Stitch in Snow

'You bet. If big birds annoy Snowking, big birds must pay.'

The orange juice was real, and I sipped appreciatively, beginning to take an interest in details. There was toast, an assortment of danish pastries, marmalade, jelly, a plateful of butter and two covered dishes at each place. I hate eggs first thing in the morning.

'Steak?' I exclaimed, peeking under the lid.

'This hyar is cow country, ma'am, best steaks in the world.'

'For breakfast? This is not Australia.' I lifted the lid higher to see if there were eggs on the meat.

'You need feeding up.'

'Christ, I need a diet!'

'You're an ungrateful wench.'

'I am not. Not really,' I said, moderating my tone because I really did appreciate his thoughtfulness, even the steak. 'It's just that I'm not a big eater, usually.'

'Snacking. That's what you've been doing,' he said in a carping tone, pursing his lips like an irate father. 'Never eating properly; then you don't understand why you're too tired to enjoy life.'

'Oh, not at breakfast… daddy.'

He laughed and I could see where he'd nicked himself shaving, and even missed a few odd hairs on one side of his jaw. Somehow that little detail softened my attitude towards him. He folded up the paper.

'Look at it this way, Jenny. With a good steak under your belt, you don't need to mess with lunch.'

'Oh, in that case…' and I took the lid off the steak and lifted my cutlery.

After the first bite, I began to see the solid sense of a steak for breakfast, particularly good juicy tender tasty steak.

'Feel better?' he asked when we had both finished.

'Indeed I do and I thank you and apologise for my grembling.'

'Grembling?'

'That's a combination of greeting and grumbling. Greeting being the Scots for moaning.'

'Grembling. Very descriptive.' He handed me the paper. 'Not that there's much in it.' He poured more coffee, draining the pot. 'Shall I order more?'

I shook my head. I had an overstuffed feeling since my usual breakfast is five or six cups of coffee.

'Say, how did you get in this morning?'

His eyes danced. 'You are awake now, aren't you?'

I repeated my question.

He shrugged, avoiding my eyes. 'I did order breakfast for two.'

'Then the bellboy…'

'Unlocked the door to admit your breakfast and… me.' He wore an air of injured innocence. 'You are too suspicious by far, Madame. I was only doing me daily good deed.'

I gave a heavy sigh. 'You are gallantry itself, sir. Chivalry is not dead.'

'Not as long as you keep me in my place.' He cocked his head at me, that devil gleam back in his eyes. He was teasing, wasn't he?

The room phone buzzed, startling me, and him. I rose hurriedly, almost knocking the service table over, to answer the phone, feeling oddly guilty. It was the airlines, apologising for the delay and contritely explaining that the runways were clogged with snow, making take-off or landing impossible. I would be kept advised of any changes. Did I wish them to contact anyone at Portland? No? Then I was to enjoy the facilities of the hotel.

I heard Dan moving, saw him head towards the door, gesturing at me that he was going to his room, undoubtedly to receive a similar call. I heard the muted burr of his phone and the rumble of his voice as I set about dressing. I'd even put some things in the basin to wash when the phone rang again, and it was Dan on the line.

'So, now what are we going to do with our day?' he asked.

'I don't know about you but I've…'

'Knitting?'

'I'll reserve that for later.'

'There's a swimming pool here. Have a dip with me?'

'After that steak? I'd sink. So would you.'

'In an hour?'

'Well,… I've no swimming suit.'

'That's no big problem.'

'Tank suits,' I said in clear acid tones, 'are great for the young…' thinking of the sort of emergency equipment likely to be in dressing rooms of hotels.

'You really need to work off that steak, and last night's brandy,' he replied with a tolerant, patient chuckle for my evasion. 'All that standing about yakatting, drinking cocktails, fending off undesirables…'

'That can be exercise, too…'

'Okay.' He rang off.

It struck me that he gave up easily, or maybe I'd been too egregiously disagreeable. He was only being chivalrous. Undoubtedly time would hang heavy in a storm-struck hotel without a pleasant companion, and I had been accessible and considerably more agreeable last night.

The maid came to do the room so I went downstairs to get some stamps. This would be an ideal time to catch up on thank-you notes and answer the fan letters which had been forwarded from my publishers to St. Louis. And I'd have to tell Tim about being blizzarded. I had, after all, several times wished in his presence that I'd see some snow while I was back in the States.

The lobby was full, mostly of disgruntled travellers. While I could appreciate their positions, and supposed that if my lecture dates were being missed, I'd complain, too, I was glad enough to complete my errand and retire to my room. There was a disquieting unease in the lobby…

The maid was just finishing my room when I returned so I settled dutifully at the desk with my paper work. I'd brought my diary up to date, including the meeting with Dan-man, and got as far as addressing an envelope to Tim and heading his letter before I realised that I did not want to write. I stared out at the swirling snow for inspiration and found none. I was reaching for the knitting bag when I heard a knock on the door.

I was so glad to see Dan standing there that my face must have mirrored my relief. His eyebrows went up and his eyes twinkled.

'There's nobody, but nobody in that pool. They're all… what was your word, ah yes,… grembling in the lobby and the bars. The atmosphere is intense.' Then he held up both hands: in one was a woman's black swimming suit and in the other, a man's green trunks. 'As requested, untankstyle. How's about it?' He held the suit out to me.

'How'd you know my size?'

'I asked for a fourteen?' he grimaced against my reaction.

'That should do.'

He grinned with relief. 'Thought so. You're not skinny, you're not fat but you have… ahem… broad shoulders. I took a chance. You're not insulted? Good. Lifeguard says we can change there but bring towels or it's another buck.'

The pool was not in the basement, but at the end of one wing of the ground floor. Snow was piled against the glass surrounding the pool and lay heavy on the winter roofing. We were still the only ones taking advantage of the facility. I wondered about swimming because the pool room was chilly, with steam rising from the water.

I put an exploratory hand in the water and found it suitable.

'To your liking, madam?' asked Dan, and I was glad I was still in my clothes because I suspected he might have unceremoniously dumped me into the water if I had been changed.

'Passable, passable.' I retreated with great dignity to the dressing rooms, his chuckle echoing in the empty chamber.

The fourteen fit but it was only a shade more flattering than a tank suit. There's no escaping the fact that my figure is thickening in the middle. I turned this way and that, sucking in my guts but Esther Williams I am not, even if my legs are still rather good. Ah, who cares?

I jammed a cap over my hair. Vanity! Vanity!

He was cavorting in the water, launching himself up and down, arms extended, bringing them down hard, to splash mightily, the way kids do. It was gratifying to me to notice that he was thickening about the middle, too, though with his breadth of shoulder, his spread wasn't noticeable when he was clothed. He breast-stroked to the side of the pool when he saw me.