Free The Hamlet Trap by Kate Wilhelm Page A

been rain off and on for a week. Laura sat at the dinette table and talked to her mother, who reported three inches of snow on the ground. They had had a white Christmas, she said. Laura called Marianne next and heard about more snow and parties and how hard it was to get anyone to replace her. She gazed out the window at the dripping trees and found herself weeping. She could not explain it to Marianne; she simply hung up on her friend. She would say the connection was broken somewhere along the line. For a long time she wept. Everything she did was wrong, she kept thinking. She had complained about not having the car and he had put on his raincoat and walked to the theater; Ginnie had driven him home hours later. She complained about not going anywhere and he took her to one of their parties where she was miserable. And tonight, when she wanted him to go to a movie with her, and listen to jazz in a tavern with her, he had to go to a damn high-school play and check out the kids. When he asked her to go with him, she practically screamed no at him. No more plays, no more performances, no more theater, even if it was in a high-school auditorium and the kids were wonderful.
    By the time Gray arrived with the car, she was carefully made up, no traces of tears remaining.
    â€œI’ll drop you off at the movie,” he said. “I’ll go on to the school thing and meet you at the bar at nine or nine-thirty. Would that satisfy you? We can stay as long as you want.”
    She shrugged. The movie house was only two blocks from the tavern and it was a reasonable concession, but she was in no mood even to pretend she was pleased with it. Neither spoke when they left the house.
    Peter had brought steaks, salad greens, potatoes. “I knew you would skip food,” he said reproachfully. “Look at you, five pounds lighter than last week.”
    She eyed the steaks hungrily and moved out of his way. It was not that she didn’t get hungry when she was working hard, it was only that real meals were a nuisance and she ate whatever she could find that did not require cooking. Cereal, peanut butter, fruit.
    â€œAnyway, I’m done,” she said, seated at the table where he brought her guacamole and tortilla chips. Fattening foods, she thought, and ate gratefully.
    â€œI knew you would be. There’s a map on the table. I marked our trip for tomorrow. Want to take a look?”
    It was a topographical map with a yellow highlighted line that weaved in and out of the hills to the northwest. “What’s there?”
    â€œYou’ll see when we get there. The woods are wet, remember to bring some extra socks.”
    â€œAnd snowshoes?”
    â€œNope. We won’t be going up. In fact, it’s lower than it is here. Eight hundred feet maybe. Now, no more questions.”
    They would take their first trip and return to her house, he told her over dinner, and on the next day, Sunday, on to the coast, to Whale’s Head. There were cottages with fireplaces, overlooking the ocean, and a gourmet restaurant ten minutes from them… .
    He took her hand. “Okay? I’m not asking for any commitment, not for more than the next week anyway. The rest can wait.”
    â€œIt isn’t fair to you,” she said softly.
    â€œIt’s much better to be me in love with you than to be anyone else on earth,” he said. “That’s as fair as I expect life to be.” He squeezed her hand slightly. “Okay?”
    She nodded. “I have to get the sketches to Uncle Ro in the morning, and tell him I’m going.”
    â€œCan’t you do that tonight? I want us to start without anything hanging over us, just you and me—no work, no problems.”
    â€œYou win. I’ll write him a note and leave it with the drawings at the theater. That’s where he’ll go first thing in the morning anyway.”
    â€œGood. I’ll come and we can pick up my gear and be all set