The Snow Maiden Read Free Page A

said.
    He paid our bills and ushered me, on shaky legs, into a taxi. I whispered my address and he gave it to the driver while I closed my eyes, lulled by his steady, even caress on my knee. He told the cabbie to wait while he tucked me into bed, where I slid into a dreamless sleep.
    #
    The sun was sitting high on her throne as I drove the long, black ribbon to the Outer Banks of North Carolina to begin my therapeutic vacation. My windows were open and the air conditioning off as I maintained the speed limit down I-74. The wind was enough to move the trickle of perspiration further between my breasts. I opened my mouth and allowed the briny ocean flavor to coat my tongue as I took the turnoff to Surfside Condos.
    Sea air had given the buildings the weathered look of most seaside homes. Paint was unnecessary, even shunned, in lieu of the convenience and beauty of bare wood.
    Rotund and rosy from exposure to the sun, the front desk receptionist stood and beamed at me as I entered. What was left of his hair was frizzy, and his bulbous nose was peeling despite a heavy smear of zinc oxide. Santa Claus on vacation. He checked me in with the leisure and small talk of someone who has spent his life on the beach. I made a mental note to tell Dr. Lawrence I liked his counterpart. He scratched his potbelly while he handed over a set of keys.
    “It’s 183, go straight back and veer right by the palmetto trees. You got a real clear view of the water and you’re a good piece from the other units.”
    “Thanks, Dr. Stroker.”
    St. Nick giggled. “Oh, I’m not Dave. He’ll be back late this afternoon sometime. Said he’d check on you, though. Make sure you’re having a good time.”
    I scaled the stairs to the unit on the uppermost floor. The windows were open, allowing the sea air to sweeten each room. I ignored the siren call of the master bedroom’s fluffy pillows and en suite garden tub, and moved into the kitchen where a gift basket beckoned.
    Inside was a scented candle, a tube of silky body lotion, and a tin of Belgian chocolates. My teeth sank into a creamy paradise and I reached for the last item. Crisp tissue paper crinkled around my trembling fingers as I read the card tied to the neck of the I hurried to the table in back of the coffee shop as fast as my legs in their four-inch spike heels allowed me without spilling my cinnamon mocha. “Hey, Jenn. Sorry I’m late. Conference call ran over.”
    “Hey, girl.” My best friend bit at her lip, leaving an edge of red on her teeth. “You gonna be mad at me if I cancel on you tonight?”
    Even though I cringed at the thought of spending Friday night alone – again – I kept my face impassive and looked straight ahead at the dark suits, almost identical to mine, scrambling by outside. “Depends on why you’re canceling. We were going to try the new Asian fusion place.”
    Her uncomfortable tone, blanketed by a thick, fluffy Southern drawl, crawled around my ears. “Um. Something came up.”
    “Was it a penis?”
    “Claire!”
    “What? I’m pretty sure I’m right. Right?”
    “Well, what happened was…”
    Oh God. This was gonna be big. Significant. Big, significant penis. I was already picturing my phallus-free evening: A glass of wine while I sat on my couch and watched reruns of Frasier. Jee-zus. I imagined having sex with Kelsey Grammer’s sitcom alter ego. Even in the heat of passion, he would call my pussy a vulva. I shuddered and pulled myself back to Jennifer’s high-pitched explanation.
    “…I’d get to wear my new dress. The red one, remember?”
    I remembered. It was a strappy little thing my D cup breasts would laugh at. Plus, Artesian was the place to be seen at and it was right up Jennifer’s alley – tiny portions served on tiny plates by tiny people. Give me a diner burger and a side of crinkle fries any day.
    As usual, Jennifer took my silence for acquiescence. “Anyway, it was a last minute thing. Oh, please don’t be mad.”
    I