LITMIR.BIZ

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But the mere reminder started a gnawing feeling in his stomach.

       “You’re right. Forget I mentioned it.” Rich tugged his hat over his head and clapped Aidan on the shoulder. “Catch you later, buddy.”

       He strode off, leaving Aidan in turmoil. Would the Whistler Mountain management team have forgotten, or at least forgiven, the cloud that surrounded him over what happened six years ago? Now that Emily was old enough to understand the rumors that still circulated about him, the last thing he wanted was for the circumstances of Charmaine’s death to be raked up again.

       Frederik was waiting for Aidan outside by the ski rack. He took one look at Aidan’s face and said, “Something is wrong, ja?”

       Aidan put on his mirrored sunglasses. He literally trusted Frederik with his life, he had to in this job, but he couldn’t bring himself to confide in him. “I was just thinking about Emily.”

       Frederik slid his skis out of the rack and dropped them to the ground to lock his boots into the bindings. “You worry about your daughter too much. Relax. Whatever is the problem, everything will be okay,” he advised. “Kids are tougher than you think.”

       For Emily’s sake, Aidan hoped he was right.

       Nicola got behind the wheel of June’s Suburban and familiarized herself with the controls. Emily was sitting in the back, blond hair braided and tucked under her bright multicolored hat. June sat in the front passenger seat and clasped her gloved hands tightly together as if to stop herself from reaching over and taking control of the car.

       “Are you sure you know how to drive on the right side of the road?” June asked nervously. “It’s not like Australia.”

       “No problem,” Nicola replied breezily. Her aunt had arranged a ride home with a neighbor, leaving Nicola use of the vehicle; and Nicola refused to be stuck home simply because she’d learned to drive on the left-hand side of the road. The snow-packed streets added an unexpected challenge, but she’d bluffed her way through more difficult situations than this.

       “Well, okay,” June said doubtfully. “Turn right when you get to the highway.”

       “I know.” Nicola turned off the radio, the better to concentrate, and backed out of the driveway. Emerald Drive had been plowed while they were having breakfast but was nevertheless more like one wide lane than two. She pointed the vehicle downhill. So far so good.

       Once they were on the highway it was easier; she could follow other cars. She dropped June off at the Whistler Conference Center for her committee meeting before taking Emily on to Myrtle Philip Elementary.

       “My other grandmother lives there,” Emily said, pointing down the road toward the Tapley Estate.

       Nicola remembered attending a prewedding dinner at Aidan’s parents’ house in one of the older subdivisions in Whistler. His father’s business was building log homes and his mother was a public health nurse. Aidan had two brothers—no, one brother and a cousin who had grown up with them. She remembered being overawed by the three handsome athletic young men.

       Cars were lined up along the school road for parents to drop their children off. Nicola maneuvered the big vehicle into a vacated slot and parked. Snowballs flew in the playground and some of the children were sliding down a small hill on plastic disks.

       Nicola took Emily’s hand and walked up the scraped and salted paved walk to the front doors of the school. “Your grandmother called to tell the principal I’d be picking you up,” she explained to the girl. “I’ll come in and introduce myself to your teacher so she knows who I am.”

       “I’ll take you to my classroom,” Emily said importantly. “You can see my picture of a snowman.”

       As they entered the building a striking blond woman came out. Her bright red hat and tailored winter coat trimmed with black fur matched the color of her lips. She wore black leather gloves and leather fashion boots.

       “Hi, Emily.” She smiled at the girl and eyed Nicola with friendly curiosity. She hesitated as if she would have stopped to talk, but Emily tugged on Nicola’s hand, leading her into the school.

       “Who was that?” Nicola glanced over her shoulder to see the other woman also looking back.

       “My auntie Angela.”

       “Is she married to your dad’s brother?” Nicola guessed.

       Emily nodded. “Uncle Nate.”

       “Do her kids go to school here, too?”

       “She doesn’t have any kids, but sometimes she drops off Ricky. He’s in grade six. She’s his aunt, too, but he’s not my cousin.” Emily gave a puzzled sigh. “Grandma explained it but I don’t really understand.”

       Nicola was still trying to work out the family tree when Emily stopped in front of a classroom. The walls were covered with wobbly snowmen with black pipes and bowler hats and folded paper cutout snowflakes. “That’s mine,” Emily said, pointing to one of the drawings.

       “It’s very good,” Nicola commended. “After school we can build a snowman in the backyard.”

       Nicola glanced through the open door. An older woman dressed in black pants and a red and green sweater with a Christmas motif was seated at a desk at the front of the room, marking papers. She looked vaguely familiar. “What’s your teacher’s name?”

       “Mrs. Winston.”

       “Mrs. Winston?” Nicola laughed in surprise. “She was my teacher in Squamish, before they had schools in Whistler.” Although the older woman’s hair was now gray, she wore it in the same smooth page-boy style as she had years ago. Nicola knocked on the door to announce her presence.

       Mrs. Winston glanced up and asked politely, “May I help you?” Then she noticed Emily. “Good morning, Emily. Is this your cousin who’s looking after you for a while?”

       “Second cousin, actually,” Nicola said coming into the room. “I’m Nicola Bond. You probably don’t remember me. I was in your grade five class back in—oh, I can’t remember the year. Emily’s mother, Charmaine, was my cousin.”

       Mrs. Winston rose and came forward, hand outstretched. “Nicola! I remember all my students. You were a quiet thing but you had such neat handwriting. I thought your family moved to Australia.”

       “That’s right, Mrs. Winston. My parents bought a small farm outside Sydney. I’m here for work and to visit my aunt and uncle.”

       “Please, call me Sara,” she said, smiling. “Is this the first time you’ve been back?”

       “I was a bridesmaid at Charmaine’s wedding.” Her smile faded and she cast a quick glance toward Emily. The girl had gone to her desk midway down the far row. “I didn’t get back for her funeral.”

       Sara shook her head and commiserated in a low voice. “A terrible tragedy. Poor Emily, only a baby. And the way Aidan’s been pilloried by the community.”

       “What do you mean?” Nicola asked. “Why would he be pilloried?”

       Sara frowned, as if suddenly realizing she’d said too much, and went back to her desk. “Nothing. It was just mean-spirited gossip.”

       “Gossip about what?” Nicola persisted.

       “I shouldn’t have said anything,” Sara replied, shifting a pile of her students’ printing exercises to one side. “I thought you’d know all about it since you’re part of the family.”

       “My father and June are brother and sister but they’ve never been particularly close. The most they communicate is a card and a family photo at Christmas.”

       “You should talk to your aunt,” Sara told her. “It’s not my place to say anything.”

       “June isn’t comfortable talking about Charmaine.”

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