Short Stories Project

Thursday, April 21, 2005

Once and Again (Chapter 2)

:: TWO ::

When Quinn finally came to, her head felt like there were armies of soldiers waging wars within it. Her vision was blurry, but the shimmering waves that distorted the room soon settled.

There was a man, standing by the window, his fingers pinching his lips that she recognised as a sign of uncertainty. The man was tall, at least six feet one, broad shouldered and well-muscled. He had short hair the colour of polished mahogany, hair that Quinn knew he once pulled into a stubby ponytail. His eyes would be hazelnut brown and full of secrets, making his rugged, handsome face look mysterious.

“Hello, Cole.” Her voice came out a rasp.

He whipped his head around at her voice and rushed to her side.

“How are you feeling?” Cole asked brusquely as he knelt down beside her. “Still feeling cold?”

As if he were clairvoyant, tremors suddenly rocked her body, even as Cole drew extra blankets over her.

“You’re shivering, shivering is good. I think.”

Shivering so hard that her teeth started to clatter, Quinn drew her body into a tight ball, humiliated that she was found in a state of weakness by this man. She tried to turn away but couldn’t summon the strength to do so. Even this slightest exertion exhausted her. It slowly sapped her strength until maintaining a coherent thought took much too of an effort.

Quinn felt the floor tip as she was lifted off the ground in strong arms. Against her will, she felt a flood of warmth rush through her body as Cole clutched her close to his chest.

She should protest.

She should fight him.

But instead, as she slipped into darkness once more, all she felt like doing was to snuggle deeper into the arms of this man who broke her heart twelve years ago.

And when Cole reached the bed in his bedroom a short while later, that was how he found Quinn. Even in sleep, her arms were trustingly curled against his chest. Unable to help himself, he pressed a light, wistful kiss on her forehead.

This was the way it should have been, Cole thought sadly.

*

“Up already?”

Quinn halted halfway through her next step. So much for sneaking out of the house.

Cole turned around in the small kitchen, two hot mugs of hot chocolate in his hands. Sipping one of them, he offered the other mug to Quinn.

“No, thanks. I should get to the ranch. My parents will worry.”

“Take a look outside the window.” Cole gestured with his head.

Warily, Quinn moved to the windows and took a peek outside. Her spirits plummeted. It was snowing even more heavily than before, if that were possible. She could barely see ten feet out.

“You’d get buried in snow if you tried to get out now.” Cole informed her helpfully. “Here, take one.”

Quinn had to agree with him, albeit reluctantly and accepted the mug.

Sipping the hot drink, Quinn observed Cole as he tended to the dying fire, building it up to send warmth across the room. The dark woollen sweatshirt stretched across his broad back and shoulders as he lifted log after log and stacked them evenly in the hearth. He looked wonderful, after all those years.

Dammit! The least he could do was to turn bald and paunchy after breaking her heart!

Without warning, Cole turned and smiled at her, totally disarming her with that warm smile like the day they’d first met. Touched in so many ways that terrified her to recall, Quinn tried to draw on the scenarios she’d created throughout the years when she’d dreamt of seeing him again. She could be vengeful, grabbing him by the collar, demanding an explanation for his actions. She could be cool and sophisticated, pretending that she hadn’t been hurt to the core. Or she could be calm and mature, sitting both of them down for a long talk on what had happened, why he’d betrayed her trust.

Instead, now that she was in the presence of the man she once thought she’d share a lifetime with, she could not recall a single word of the clever monologue she’d rehearsed over the years.

“Hungry?”

Quinn nearly jumped as her reverie was interrupted.

“Umm. A little actually.”

“I could start dinner. What would you like to eat? Tonight’s fine menu consists of either hard spaghetti with soggy eggs, or steaks that may be medium rare, fine or overcooked, depending on your luck.”

Involuntarily, Quinn choked on the hot chocolate and ended up half sputtering and laughing.

“Looks like your culinary skills have not improved since the past.” She teased.

“Sure they have.” Cole laughed along. “You will notice that burnt soufflés are not my specialty anymore.”

They grinned at each other as memories of past dinners resurfaced. Candles, moonlight, and cheap wine.

Stolen kisses, intimacy and long sultry nights.

The tension between the two of them suddenly flared as old feelings threatened to emerge. Their soft laughter turned to awkward, self-conscious chuckles.

“Uh, I guess I’d better go and get dinner ready.” Cole said, making to move into the kitchen.

“Let me.”

Cole turned and regarded her quizzically. “I’m sorry?”

“I mean let me prepare the food.”

One dark brow climbed up his handsome face. “Be my guest.”
*

Cole wanted to groan in ecstasy.

“Since when did you learn to cook like that?” He moaned as he surveyed the empty dishes. Dinner had been a scrumptious affair with juicy slabs of perfectly done steaks, complemented by side dishes of baked potatoes topped with fried bacon as well as creamy clam chowder.

“What? You mean this?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, I had too much free time during one of the semester breaks and simply decided to brush up on my skills.”

“Cordon Bleu?”

“If only,” Quinn laughed. “More like hours of sweat and frustration in the kitchen with dozens of cookbooks.” And something to kill time with while battling for her life, Quinn added silently.

Cole chuckled softly along with her.

“Would you like some music?” Cole asked when their chuckles subsided and pushed back his chair.

“Why not?” She nodded.

“What’d you like to hear?”

“What are my choices?”

“Anything we can get from this old receiver.” Cole tuned the radio meticulously, trying hard not to distracted by her nearness. “Nothing much tonight, I’m afraid, mostly Christmas carols.”

“That’s fine, right there.” Quinn said when “I saw Mummy kissing Santa Claus” starting playing.

Cole slowly tuned the radio to eliminate the static, taking his time while he decided how to handle the evening ahead.

In his dreams, he had known exactly what to do with her. The moment the music started to play, he would sweep her up into his arms in a slow waltz. Quinn would take one look into his eyes, apologize for letting him down, and they would hug each other tightly. He would tell her that he still loved her, and she would do likewise, and the two of them would live happily ever after.

Instead, now that they were really in his cabin alone, he was trying his best not to morph into a bumbling adolescent with the graces of a chimpanzee.

“So how’s teaching?” He asked, choosing a safe topic as he sat back down.

“Fine.” Quinn replied. “Teaching’s still fine. A bit frustrating at times but mostly rewarding.”

“Frustrating because of the papers you have to grade?”

“Not at all. The frustration comes from the knowledge that all my students will probably move on to doing more meaningful and successful things in life, while I’ll still be doing the same thing ten years down the road.”

“What are you talking about?” Cole protested. “What you are doing now is meaningful. You’re helping hundreds of people to achieve their dreams, for crying out loud. What can be more meaningful than that?”

“There comes the rewarding part.” Quinn laughed. “That’s when I start playing the martyr, telling myself that the kids couldn’t have done it without me. Talk about ego.” Cole laughed too, knowing that no matter what she may say, Quinn loved teaching, loved to impart knowledge. This was the Quinn he had known twelve years ago. Generous, giving Quinn. It was as if time had stopped running for her in all those years, and here she was once more, the same Quinn that Cole had wanted to spend his life with.

“What about you?” Quinn asked when both of them grew silent. “What has Cole Hollister been doing all these years?”

“Nothing much, really. After quitting the Majors, I started up my own flight charter business. I’m taking a break now.”

“What? You’ve stopped playing baseball?” Of course! Quinn remembered now. Six years ago, it had made the headline news in sports. She could have kicked herself for her insensitivity. It’d apparently involved a three way collision on the field, resulting in multiple fractures of the hip, lengthy court battles, followed by the Cole Hollister retiring from the baseball scene.

“How’re your injuries now?”

“The fractures? They healed ages ago. No more contact sport for me though.”

“I see. How does it feel? Not playing baseball anymore?” Quinn was curious.

“For a while, I had it real bad.” Cole said, but didn’t elaborate. His eyes darkened and the crevices near the corners of his mouth deepened.

“It must have been difficult for you to start over.”

“People ask me why I quit the scene so irrevocably, when I could have been a broadcaster, a coach or a commentator. I could have gotten a job with a network, or a broadcast station. It wasn’t the end of the line, they’d say.”

“It’s not simply a job.” Quinn said softly.

“No, it’s not.” Cole agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. “Playing baseball was too much a part of me then, so much that I didn’t know who I was without it. For a long time, I was afraid that if I looked, I’d find that I was really nobody.”

His solemn candour stunned her. Looking at him, Quinn could see the disappointment that still lingered in his eyes after all this time. She wanted to breech the distance between them and hug him, soothe away his hurt. It seemed as if from somewhere across the years, the Cole she’d knew and loved had come back. She recalled every fibre of him now, remembered all the hurt and disappointment he’d shared with her, the pain of his mother dying, the shame of his father leaving them.

She remembered too, the plans they’d made for their future, the hopes they’d held on to.

The agony and sheer heartbreak when he’d broken their promise to each other.

She gave herself a mental shake. She must not, will not, allow history to repeat itself, especially at this fragile stage of her life. Besides, no love could possibly last twelve years, could it?

“Well,” she chirped with brightness that she did not feel. “I’m beat. Let’s catch up again tomorrow, shall we? Need any help with the cleaning up?”

Cole straightened up in his chair and blinked, as if he hadn’t expected that from her.

“Uh… no, I’ll handle the dishes.” He hastily followed suit as Quinn stood up. “Tired already?”

“Well, it’s not everyday I get stranded in a snowstorm. I guess I’m not used to it.” Quinn said and smiled wanly.

“Yeah, I guess so. Now’s a good time to turn in.” Cole picked up the dishes and turned away before Quinn could answer.

It was a relief for Quinn to escape from his gaze, intense in its subtle sorrow and pain. More of a relief was the fact that in a few minutes, she would be alone, a safe distance away from his soulful eyes and her ridiculous urge to put her arms around him.

“You can have my room, I’ll sleep out on the couch.” Cole called out in the kitchen.

“What? I mean, no. No thanks, I’ll sleep out on the couch, if it’s alright with you.” There was no way Quinn could sleep in a bed that Cole had lain in. Goldilocks could have Papa Bear’s bed to herself, she was staying on the couch, thank you very much.

“Why? I really don’t mind…”

“And I’d really rather.”

Cole finished soaking the dishes in the sink and turned to face her, wiping his wet hands on a dishcloth. “I’ll get some blankets then.”

He returned a short while later with a pile of blankets and a pillow, which he dropped on the couch. He also held a navy blue thermal shirt and a matching pair of sweatpants. “I thought you’d like to change into something more comfortable.”

“These are great. Anywhere I can change?”

“The bathroom is just down the hallway, second door on the left.”

She hesitated before asking. “May I use the shower?”

“Of course, there are fresh towels in the bathroom.”

Quinn nodded her thanks and walked down the short hallway. She could feel his gaze on her the entire time.

“Quinn.”

“What?”

Cole was hesitating. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Alright?”

“Um, from the snowstorm, I mean.”

“Oh that. I’m feeling fine.”

“Sure?”

“Sure I’m alright. Don’t worry.” Nothing you can help with anyway. She smiled to reassure him before moving into the bathroom.

Cole tried to concentrate on preparing a bed for Quinn on the sofa, spreading out the blankets and fluffing the pillow. Instead, he was distracted by the imaginary image of water slicing down Quinn’s slim body, of his two hands exploring it, like what they’d done twelve years ago. A sharp blade of sadness sliced through him as the past surfaced unbidden into his mind.

The promise she’d never kept.

Tortured by the memories, he could feel his insides shrivel up. She’d not talked about the incident since then, and he wished he had the nerve to confront her about that. Then again, maybe it was better to pretend that the episode never happened at all, rather than to tear open old wounds. Wounds that had never healed. But that was his problem, something she need not find out.

He’d just added another log to the flames, and was poking at the embers energetically, when he heard her walk into the room. He stood up to face her, but the words stuck in his throat. Quinn was, if possible, even more beautiful now than when she was young. She still had a slim frame, but was filling up and lengthening in appropriate places, until she became nearer to perfection than any other woman had a right to be. His thermal shirt looked a thousand dollars on her.

As if Quinn could feel his approval, she practically leapt onto the sofa and dragged the blankets up to her chin.

“Any other things I can get you?” Cole managed to choke out.

“No, nothing, I’m perfectly fine.”

Cole stood there, staring at her face, comparing it to the one he’d known so well twelve years ago. He jolted when Quinn cleared her throat. “Uh, well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then. Sleep tight.”

“Good night, Cole.” Quinn said, watching him back away as if the sofa was on fire.

Later, she wished she could mentally back away from Cole as easily as he’d retreated from the sofa, for sleep was elusive as her thoughts remained on the beautiful man with hazel eyes just sleeping down the hallway.
*

Cole tossed in his bed for just about the five-hundredth time. His mind was having an OBE - out of body experience - lingering on the woman who was twenty-nine paces down the hallway. He’d counted the steps the first time he tiptoed down to check on her.

Had things been different, Cole thought, she’d be right here beside him, instead of being twenty-nine paces away.

Why, he wanted to ask her. Why, his heart wanted to know. Why had she thrown away all that they had without even as much as a warning? He remembered the carving they’d made on the rock, the promises they’d made then under the rock. Was it something he did? He turned restlessly again, but all he saw were their bodies, entwined in the night.

What he remembered, however, was the cold and empty feeling in his gut as he waited for her to show up by the rock, waited until the sun descended in a orange blanket of light, until what left of his hope extinguished like a weak flame in the wind.

Sighing, Cole pushed his blanket aside and stood up. Looks like this was not going to be an easy night.

Softly, he walked out into the sitting room where Quinn’s still figure lay. He added three more logs to the pile of smouldering wood, and then stoked them till they caught fire. That done, he brushed his hands against his sweatpants then softly crossed to the couch where Quinn lay sleeping, and straightened her blankets. Pausing slightly as if unsure of his next move, Cole’s right hand froze in mid air, right beside Quinn’s face. His hand slowly gravitated to her cheek as if against his will, then stroked it lightly with a finger. He trailed the finger down to her lips and touched them softly in a gesture of longing. Abruptly, Cole drew his hand back and padded back to his bedroom.

When he left, Quinn raised two hands, one to trail the path his finger had taken, the other to wipe away the single tear that slid down her cheek.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home