Girl in Ice(44)

“Okay, I believe you. Never mind.” But I didn’t believe her. I would never put my pills in my pocket, for one thing.

“Maybe it’s a sign.”

“Sign?”

“Maybe this isn’t the place for you.”

I glanced outside. The picture window framed a crystalline landscape soaked in bruise-colored light. My stomach tightened down.

“Maybe you’re in a little over your head. Ever think of that?” She worked the cleaver free, laid it down on the soft wood of the cutting board with a strange reverence. “You know, everything was so peaceful here before Andy came. Wyatt and me, we had these long, quiet days, just getting work done. None of this high drama.”

“I’ll expect my pills back by breakfast,” I said, my voice higher and breathier than I’d intended. “In my room. No questions asked.”

“Val, I didn’t take your precious pills.” She turned to face me, wiping her meat-stained hands on a rag. “And speaking of missing things, I’m down a knife. My crescent knife. Have you seen it?”

“No,” I said, my face hot.

She opened the oven door; the aroma of baking cornbread flowed out. Suddenly I was dizzy with hunger. “You know,” she said, “Andy lost things all the time.”

The mention of his name a shot of pain between my eyes.

She took out the hot bread and set it on the rack. “Every day, we’re looking for his spikes, his headlamp, his knife, his gloves.”

“Well, I’m not like him. I don’t misplace things. People assume twins are the same—”

“He was a pretty mellow guy, when he was in a good mood. When he wasn’t freaking out about the end of the world. Loved to cook. Loved to bake. I even let him, and you know I don’t like anybody in my kitchen.”

Memories of Andy flooded me; he did love to bake! It relaxed him. He always made our birthday cake. Even when we were kids, he let me choose from our two favorites: chocolate and coconut, often compromising with chocolate cake and coconut frosting.

“What did he bake here?”

“These great mocha brownies. Just killer. I had to hand it to him. And Rice Krispie squares.”

“With chocolate chips?”

“When we had ’em. Plus he played practical jokes on us all the time. Used to put Wyatt’s frozen specimens—you know, lemmings and so on, in his bed. Wyatt freaked out. But they were like brothers, those two. Never saw anybody crack Wyatt up like Andy could with his silly drawings and whatnot. And the way they talked? Couldn’t get a word in edgewise.”

I was quiet, hungry for more, but she misinterpreted me.

“Hey, I’m sorry. Yapping about all this stuff. Can’t imagine how you must feel.”

“It’s okay.”

“I mean, I get depressed too. I get down. I miss my husband, my Frances. They were everything to me. Every bit of light in the sky. But I’d never do it. I’d never end things like that. I’m not made that way. Point of pride. Sometimes it almost feels silly, because, you know, what do I really have here? What’s left in this world for me, besides fixing the next thing that breaks, and the next, and the next? Guess I’m a stubborn old broad. I just hang on.” She raised her mug of wine to me, drank it down, and set it on the counter with a flourish. “See you in an hour for supper?”

“Sure,” I said, unable to repress an image of the cleaver tomahawking into my back as I walked away.





seventeen


“Jeanne and I are headed back to Glacier 35A tomorrow,” Wyatt announced as he sliced into his caribou steak. “We’ll be back pretty late, so you’re all on your own for dinner.”

“Brilliant,” Nora said, winking at Raj. “We’ll get a curry.”

Raj’s face stayed serious. “What’s going on out there? Why are you going back?”

“Just feel like there’s more to learn about the girl out there.”

I took a swallow of wine, said, “If it’s about Sigrid, I need to go.”

“Not a good idea.” Wyatt’s voice was flat.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, but as I pictured the Enormity, I quelled a rising nausea. The vastness would certainly suck me away, erase me. The heavy meal turned in my stomach.

“This is serious work,” Wyatt said. “We can’t be worrying about you—”

“Since when have—”

“I have to consider everyone’s safety—”

“I won’t even leave the cat.”

He served himself some rice, not meeting my eye. “There’s no reason for you to come. You need to watch the girl. Make some actual progress.”

Just the sound of knives slicing across plates, glasses clinking. I cut into my caribou steak picturing a herd of them swimming across the icy waters of the fjord, antlered heads held high, slowly starving as they searched for lichen trapped under a glaze of ice.

“Sigrid can hang out with us,” Nora said cautiously. “Seal Man would love it, right?”

Raj shrugged a yes, a bit oblivious as he buttered a piece of cornbread. “Sure. We’ll keep an eye on her.”

Wyatt swept a hand through an oily forelock. “We can talk about this in the morning.”