When the Music Stops (20 page)

h

Tuesday evening dinner with Steve and his parents challenged Marta to track several conversations: the upcoming Presidential election, the trouble in Venezuela, the opening of the new Air Force Academy in Colorado, and the NASA projects. By the time Steve walked her to the guest room door, she felt as drained as if she’d danced for hours.

“Well, what do you think about my parents?”

She smiled. “They’re kind to let me stay here but are they always so intense?”

“Being in the newspaper world makes for lots of discussions about world issues.” Steve kissed her nose. “But you held your own, especially when we talked about the arts.” He encircled her in a loose hug as they leaned against the door to her room. “Tomorrow we have lots to talk about, so get a good night’s sleep.”

As Marta got ready for bed, she replayed tonight’s conversation. It worried her. If she and Steve ended up together, would they engage in such intense conversations? Would she be expected to know about political unrest in Africa, the value of the franc, and the upcoming World’s Fair in Seattle? Why didn’t she know about the fair? It was an hour ferry’s ride from where she lived. She needed to subscribe to the
Bremerton Sun
or a Seattle paper when she returned home.

h

The morning drive through the valley and into the mountains brought back impressions from February, the last time she’d traveled the road. This year less snow surrounded their drive. “It’s been a dry holiday season,” Steve said and smiled. “What snow we have is buried under dirt and sand on the sides of the road, but who knows? We could get snowed in.”

Once they pulled into the driveway, Marta stood next to the car staring at the cabin railing and the drip line of the eaves. “When we visited last February, the snow covered everything. Now I can see where I landed when I fell through the railing. I was so frightened I’d die here alone in the dark during last New Year’s weekend.”

Steve stepped behind her and wrapped her in his arms. “I wish things had been different, that you’d called to tell me you and Lynne were coming up early. I should have been here for you. Maybe your career wouldn’t have been ruined.”

Marta turned around and leaned her head against Steve’s chest. “Maybe. But something else might have happened, a different accident.” She reached for his hand and pulled him toward the steps. “Let’s head inside and start a fire.”

The large open room comforted her seeing with the same tan leather couches and green overstuffed chairs facing the river rock fireplace. Blankets and quilts lay draped over the furniture ready for wrapping around chilly bodies. Marta looked at the game board shelf remembering their wild Valentine’s evening game of Monopoly when Steve washed her hair to remove the stickiness from the spilled soda pop. He’d kissed her. That wonderful evening was soon overshadowed by the horrible nightmare. It still sent chills through her body. What a strange combination of events. That’s when she first realized she loved Steve.

“Marta?”

“Hm-m?”

“You looked as if you moved a thousand miles away. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just replaying our last trip. I enjoyed being here with you, getting away from being a captive in the boarding house. I hope I never need another cast.” She walked to the wood storage bin and lifted the bin. “After we refill this and build a fire, I challenge you to a Monopoly rematch, if you’re up for it.”

“Sounds good.” Steve flexed his arms as though preparing for a boxing match. “Expect another thrashing from Mr. Monopoly.”

As it turned out, they never played Monopoly. Instead they spent hours wrapped in blankets seated close to the fireplace talking, cuddling, and taking turns feeding the fire. They tiptoed around a conversation of Steve’s unexpected visit and her kissing Dennis.

“I’d like to move on, Marta, if you’re sure the Dennis incident was a momentary lapse.”

“It was. I’ve thought a lot about you since then,” she said.

“And?”

Marta looked around the cabin, then back at Steve. “It feels so good to be here with you. I love the cabin and the quiet.”

Steve tipped his head to one side to look at her face. “And me? Do you love me? I’ll gladly take third place after the quiet.”

Marta played with a curl of hair, kissed Steve’s cheek, and laughed. “Hm-m-m. I put you higher than third place. Maybe second. Now, are we ever going to discuss your plans? I know you’ve been interviewing.”

“I have a job offer in Sacramento. I’d do investigative reporting on migrant worker issues. It could be fine, but I’m hoping to find work covering state and national politics. I have two weeks to give them an answer.” Steve turned to Marta and trailed his fingers down her cheek. “Would you consider moving to California? I’m sure they need dancers and dance instructors.”

“I’m committed to help Lindsay until she returns from having her baby. That means staying in Bremerton until the end of summer or longer.”

Steve nodded. “That could work. I haven’t heard from Seattle or other papers I’m interviewing with, but I hope to know this spring. But you’d consider moving?”

She shrugged and slid her fingers along Steve’s shoulder. “I might. It’s hard to guess what may happen between now and then.” Marta stopped moving her hand. If she wasn’t careful in what she said, she’d slip into a corner or maybe a box and lose her chance to pursue her dance dreams, if her ankle recovered. “I’d consider lots of things once we both knew where we might end up.”

At midnight Steve opened a bottle of champagne and served Marta’s drink with an engagement ring resting in the bottom of her glass.

Marta stared at the glass. “What’s…?”

Steve kissed her cheek and slid around to kiss her lips. “Happy New Year. I thought I’d try asking you again.” He took her hand and led her to a couch and stared at her eyes as though expecting a reply before he asked his next question. “May I ask my burning question again? I don’t want to lose you, and I don’t think we should wait any longer.”

Marta felt gears grinding in her head and a chill trace her spine even though sweat beaded on her upper lip. She shivered.

“Marta?”

She put her hand on his arm and smiled but shook her head. “I think we need to wait.”

Steve looked stunned. He pushed himself to his feet and walked to the log bin where he grabbed a log for the fire and tossed it in. He stood with his back to Marta for several moments, then turned. “Why? What’s your excuse
this
time?”

Marta pulled in her lips. She closed her eyes before she answered. “We need to wait until both of us have jobs, so we know where we’re landing. I have my recovery to continue working on and…what’s the rush?”

For a long moment the only sound in the cabin was the crackle of the fire. Steve stared at her. “I’m twenty-three and I’m ready to settle down. I don’t want to lose you to some carpenter or a young lawyer. I don’t want you to look around and decide you can do better than me.”

The sadness she heard in Steve’s voice ripped through her like an icy wind. If he’d gotten angry or shouted, the effect wouldn’t have been so strong. Could she convince him once again to wait while she pieced the rest of her life back together?

When she started to speak, Steve slid his fingertips down her cheek, sliding them over to cover her lips. “Don’t say anything more, please.”

She closed her eyes and inhaled slowly before looking at Steve again.

“You might be right, Marta, but I love you and I want to have you in my life every day. A few minutes ago you said you loved me.”

“I do, but Steve—”

“Sh-h. No buts. I know you think we need to wait, but what if I find my career in California and you find yours in Washington? How will we ever get together? Can’t you marry me and be content taking care of me?”

“Take care of
you
? I can barely take care of myself, so how could I take care of you? If it weren’t for the diet--” Her eyes widened.

Steve’s head whipped up. He grabbed her wrists. “Wait. You’re still taking those damn diet pills after what they did to Bartley?” He gave her arms a violent shake. “Marta? Tell me!”

Tears slid down her face. “I only use them when my life is too busy to rest or eat like these past weeks working on the Christmas shows. It’s okay, Steve.”

“No, it’s not. Stop with the pills!” He walked away from her as she reached out to touch his face. He stopped and turned. “Do you have any pills with you tonight?”

She shrugged.

“Show me what’s in your purse.”

Marta’s hands trembled as she rummaged through the pockets in her purse. She pulled out two pills. She watched as Steve’s eyes trailed from the pills to her face and back to the pills. He shook his head, grabbed his coat, and disappeared out the door.

The silence in the cabin felt as heavy as the quilt she’d wrapped up in earlier that evening. She stared around the empty room. When she heard Steve’s car start, she raced to the window in time to see him backing out of the driveway.

h

Marta watched the large sunburst clock on the river rock wall as the minutes passed as slow as hours. She sat by the fire, paced the room, looked out the window, and paced again. Had Steve gone for a drive, or had he driven home? Would he return for her or send Lynne to pick her up? If she’d chosen her words more carefully—

Two a.m. Three a.m. Marta saw lights trace the row of trees lining the driveway. A car door slammed. When the cabin door opened, Steve entered, his face somber.

“Where were you, Steve?”

“Do you care where I was? Really?”

“Of course I do.”

He sat down in a nearby chair keeping his back to Marta. “I went to town to an all-night café to think.” He stood and started pacing. “Sometimes you upset me so much I want to walk away and erase you from my life.”

The comments felt like a slap to her face. She didn’t know what to say or do, so she stood silent.

His pacing stopped several feet from Marta. “Even though I’d like to think I could walk away from you once and for all and never return, I can’t. For some crazy reason I love you and want you to be with me.”

“I love you too, Steve, but—”

“Then stopped taking those blasted pills.”

Marta lowered her face and felt herself trembling. “I can try.”

“No, Marta. Trying isn’t good enough. I don’t want you to end up like Bartley.”

“I’ve never taken as many pills as she did. I only take a couple a day once in a while.”

“Listen to yourself! You’re rationalizing.” He looked around the room as though searching for an answer. Marta watched and waited.

He shook his head. “I’ll make you a deal. You stop taking pills, and I’ll stop asking you to marry me.”

Marta grabbed a chair back for support. “So you’re giving up on me?”

“No. I’m asking you to stop because you need to stop. I’ll quit hounding you until I have a permanent job and you’ve recovered. Deal, Marta?”

“I guess. I’m beginning to manage more than a few days at a time. When Lindsay needed me to take over the Christmas programs and the upcoming recital details, I tried to avoid the pills, but that responsibility put a lot of pressure on me.”

“I get that, but you need to make a change. I’d hoped you’d do it for me, for us, but that didn’t happen. Just do it for yourself.” He checked his watch. “It’s after three. When I came in it started snowing, so the temperature is dropping. I suggest you sleep on the couch by the fire. I’ll be in the loft if you need anything.”

Steve disappeared up the ladder without giving her a kiss or hug. She watched him step off the ladder and disappear into the bedroom. After she turned off the lamps, she stood at the window watching it snow. She touched the spider frost on the glass with her finger; their twist and turns resembled twists and turns in lives. She saw Bartley’s life like the short finger of ice. The diet pills she had taken over several years destroyed her. Marta saw herself as a long trail of ice. Sure she’d taken pills, but only when she needed a boost of energy. That made a difference, didn’t it?

h

At dawn, Marta watched Steve climb down the ladder. “Hi,” she said.

“Hi.” Steve’s voice sounded mechanical. “Did you sleep?”

She closed the blanket she had draped over her shoulders. “Not much. How about you?”

Steve shrugged. “I think I slept, but not for very long.” He stepped toward the kitchen, then stopped and turned to face Marta. “We should pack up and head back to town. How long do you need?”

“I’m ready now.” Marta loosened the blanket she’d wrapped up in and folded it. “Can we stop along the way so I can call Lynne? Maybe I can stay with her until I fly out tomorrow.”

Steve nodded but didn’t look at Marta. “Sounds good.”

Neither spoke during the drive down the mountains, making the trip long and sad. Should she have lied and taken the ring? Maybe the diet pills would have never become an issue if she had. Their relationship was rocky, but it always ended up sorting itself out. Would that pattern continue this time?

Marta phoned Lynne from each small town on their way back to Billings. No answer. Fidgets circled inside her; the longer they drove, the more her options shrank.