Jayne had tried to prepare Ellen for the inevitable, but there had been only so far she could go, and then the whole thing had blown up. Ellen had gone back to wearing her shapeless clothes and burying herself in her workroom. She’d turned down their invitations, claiming she was simply too busy to socialize. It wasn’t until Ellen had hired Walker as her general manager that things had begun to look up.
Jayne whimpered in her sleep, reaching out for him, and Paul hurried back to the bed. He cuddled up to his sleeping wife, shaping his body around hers, and then he went back to sleep, home once again with the woman he loved.
SEVENTEEN
Ellen’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “You want me to do what?”
“Come on, Ellen, just try it. It’s really a lot of fun.”
“Forget it, Walker. That snow’s cold. And flat on my back? No, thanks!”
Walker looked down at her with amusement and Ellen felt herself blushing. If anyone overheard them, it would be all over the building in no time flat. “Have a little common sense, Walker. What if someone saw us? I’d never be able to face them in the morning.”
“That’s just an excuse.” Walker looked very serious. “You know no one’s up this time of night. And even if they see us, so what? They’d probably say, Isn’t that nice? Walker and Ellen are having fun in the snow. You’re just paranoid, Ellen. My wife showed me how when we first started dating, and we must have done it in every vacant lot in Chicago.”
Ellen couldn’t help it. She almost fell over, she laughed so hard. Walker stared at her in confusion for a second, and then he started to laugh with her. “Okay, okay. I know how it sounds. But I still don’t see why you won’t try it. It’ll only take a couple of minutes.”
“Only a couple of minutes?” Ellen doubled over with an attack of the giggles. “Okay, I’ll do it just to shut you up, but you’ll have to teach me. I’ve never done it with anyone else before.”
That sent them off into new gales of laughter. Finally Walker calmed down enough to give her instructions.
“Ready?” Walker pulled her over to a spot where the snow was an unbroken sheet of sparkling white. “Now remember, Ellen. You’re falling uphill and the snow is deep, so it’ll be just like landing on a feather bed. After you’re down, don’t move a muscle until I tell you what to do next.”
Ellen gave a little cry as they fell backward. Her first instinct was to scramble to her feet, but she certainly didn’t want to do this twice.
“Ellen? Are your arms tight against your hips?”
“Yup.” She giggled.
“Good.” Walker sounded very serious. “Did you ever do an exercise called the jumping jack in school?”
“Of course I did. I used to teach first grade and Mary Christine Fanger lost her hair ribbon the first time we did it in gym.”
“Good, you’ve got plenty of experience. We’re going to do a jumping jack with our arms. Leave them level with the snow and drag them up over your head. Then back down to your side again. That’ll make the wings.”
“Got it.” Ellen raised her arms and brought them back down again. Walker was right. The snow was like a feather bed, a very cold feather bed, and she looked up into the deep black night to see thousands of stars sparkling overhead. They looked so close, she felt she could almost reach up and touch them. She shivered as she was suddenly struck by the vastness of space. She was only a miniscule speck of warm life in the icy void, so small and insignificant that she could disappear without anyone noticing or caring.
“Now the legs.” Walker’s disembodied voice pulled her back and she had an almost overpowering urge to reach out to touch him, just to make sure he was real.
“It’s almost the same as the arms. Spread them out as far as you can, then bring them back together again. And then don’t move. Ready?”
“Yes.” Ellen pushed her legs out to the side and brought them back. Then, rather than risk feeling that terrible loneliness again, she shut her eyes and told herself that she wasn’t alone, that Walker was only a few feet away.
“And now I bet you’re wondering how we get up without ruining it, right?”
“I guess so.” Ellen smiled to herself. That problem hadn’t even occurred to her until right now. She turned her head just a fraction of an inch and watched Walker roll forward in one fluid motion until he was up on his feet. And then he was standing in front of her, smiling.
“Hold out your hands and keep your body as stiff as a board.”
Ellen hung on as Walker pulled her forward. A second later they were both standing at the foot of their creations.
“They do look like angels!” Ellen studied them with an appraising eye. “That was fun in a crazy sort of way.”
“Told you. And these are superior angels. If it doesn’t snow anymore tonight, they’ll still be there in the morning.”
Ellen stomped her feet and brushed the powdery snow off her clothes. The night was friendly now that she could see Walker, and the air was crisp and clean with the scent of pine. “Come on, let’s walk through the pine grove. I’ve always wanted to go out there at night, but it’s frightening by yourself.”
“Most things are.” Walker took her hand to help her down the steep incline, but they both slipped several times anyway. Ellen’s face was flushed and she was out of breath as they ended up running the last several feet to keep from falling.
When they reached level ground, Walker still didn’t release her hand and Ellen found she was glad. It felt good to walk across the huge glittering sheet of snow, swinging arms.
It was much darker when they entered the pine grove, where giant branches filtered the blue-white moonlight into lacy patterns against the snow. Ellen sighed in pure contentment; it was just as beautiful as she’d imagined. Pinecones hung from the branches like Christmas tree ornaments and icicles glistened in the blue-white light.
“Come here for a minute, Ellen.” Walker reached out with one mittened hand and pulled her under the branches of a huge pine tree. “I used to love to play under these things when I was a kid.”
Ellen ducked under a low branch. The top of her head brushed against it, sending down a shower of snow. Walker pulled her next to the trunk of the tree and dusted her off.
“Look around. What do you think?”
“It’s enchanting.” Ellen looked up at the dark cavern of branches above them, drooping down to touch the ground. “It’s like a little house under here, and it smells so good.”
Walker nodded. “When I was a little kid, I told my mother I wanted to live under the pine tree in our backyard.”
“I can see why.” Ellen looked down at the ground. There was no snow, only a cushion of aromatic pine needles. “Did she point out that it would get chilly in February?”
“That’s exactly what she said. But I kept on dreaming of that little room under the pine tree, and when summer rolled around, I asked her again.”
Ellen smiled. “And she said no?”
“Nope. She said it’d be fine with her as long as I came in to wash up once in a while. So I fixed up a room under there with a sleeping bag and my comic books and a stash of cookies.”
“She actually let you move out there?” Ellen turned to him in surprise. “If I’d tried to do something like that, my parents would have told me to grow up and quit acting so foolish.”
Walker grinned. “My mother was a very smart woman. That night, she went upstairs to bed and I went out to my pine tree.”
“What happened?”