Monday morning was another first. Nina drove Kit to school. Not just to drop her off, but to go in and talk to the principal about gathering Kit’s records and transferring them back to the elementary school in Stillwater. Maybe sit in on some of her classes. Today would be Kit’s last school day in Glacier Falls. Nina had set the tone at Sunday breakfast when she casually suggested that Broker should call Dooley.
He’d called Dooley and told him to get the duplex straightened up and turn up the heat; they be arriving Wednesday afternoon. That gave them Tuesday to finish packing and clean Griffin’s place. He called Griffin, explained their plans, and they agreed to have supper Tuesday night at the Anglers to settle up and say good-bye.
Now it was almost one-thirty in the afternoon, and Nina hadn’t returned yet. Broker stood in the garage studying the stack of boxes and suitcases that he, Nina, and Kit has assembled on Sunday. Seeing them, he remembered the tense days last January, the rushed packing. He raised his right hand to his throat, felt the key to the gun locker on the leather thong. The guns would be the last thing he’d load in the Tundra.
His cell rang. It was Griffin.
“You think I could get a little more work out of you, before you split?” Griffin said.
“What’s up?”
“My truck’s still in the shop. And my wood trailer’s got a broken axle. Teedo’s home with a sick kid, so I don’t have his truck. I need a couple loads of oak carted over here at the lodge. Want to get it under a tarp before this big mother of a storm moves in.”
“Sure,” Broker said. “I’ll get on it as soon as Nina gets the truck back.”
“Look, I know you’re packing. Just bring one load over. We can trade cars, and I’ll come back for the second load.”
“No problem, any way you want to do it,” Broker said.
After he ended the call, Broker walked out into the driveway and looked at the storm clouds marshaling over the northwestern treetops. Persistent spitballs of frozen snow rattled on his parka. The mini sleet drew a faint veil over the road, and he saw Nina’s high beams knife through it. He watched the Tundra pull up the drive. Walked out to meet her.
“How’d it go?” Broker said.
Nina gave him a droll smile and did a snappy little curtsy. “Am I a soccer mom from central casting or what?” She was wearing the cross-country ski outfit he’d given her for Christmas. “I talked to the principal, Helseth, and sat in on a reading and math class. Kit wanted me to stay for lunch and for her gym class. You know, she wanted to put me on front street. Like, ‘See, I got a mom, too.’ And the paperwork is all set. They’ll ship it end of week. How’s it going here?”
Broker explained Griffin’s call, how he’d drive over to the lodge with a load of wood, then use Griffin’s Jeep to pick up Kit.
“You might want to go in early to school. When I left, they were all watching the weather in the office. They might start the buses early if this thing rolls in before school lets out.”
“Okay, I better get on it.”
Nina nodded. “I’ll sort through the upstairs bathroom, pack everything except essentials, then-” She perused the sky. “Maybe get in a run before we get dumped on.”
They set off to their separate tasks. Nina went inside as Broker took off his good parka and pulled on the beat-up brown work-crew jacket. Then he started the Tundra and backed it up to the woodpile. Half an hour later, he had the bed full of oak, got in, and headed off for the lodge.
When Broker arrived at the lodge work site, he found Griffin upbeat, busy squaring away his gear as if he relished the prospect of working in the midst of a severe winter storm. They unloaded the wood, covered it with a tarp, and weighted the tarp down with hunks of flagstone.
“You planing to work tomorrow?” Broker asked.
“Nah, but if we really get a lot of snow, it’ll take a day for the plows to clear the roads. Might as well get the wood in before it hits, so we can start on Wednesday,” Griffin said.
They hunkered in the lee of the warming tent, drank coffee from Griffin’s thermos, and watched the gauzy afternoon light slowly filling in with billows of white. Start to pick away details on the lake.
“Nina still on track?” Griffin asked.
“Life is good,” Broker said. “She went to school this morning with Kit. Stayed through lunch.”
“And the other thing?”
“Well, we’re coming to that. She said we’re going to have a long-overdue talk. But we ain’t there yet. There’s this doctor at Bragg she has to check in with. It’ll happen then.”
“Well, good luck.” Griffin squinted at the rising wind. “You still planning to head back Wednesday? This could make a mess out of the roads.”
“Why they made four-wheel drive.” Broker shrugged and studied his friend, standing there in the identical jacket and black watch cap. “Remind me to give you this coat back,” he said.
“Hey, keep it,” Griffin said, his face ruddy, his gray eyes merry, more youthful and alive than usual, as he watched the whipping snow.
“You’re in a good mood,” Broker observed. “Your lady friend Hatch come over and whip some Class A maintenance on your relationship?”
Griffin grinned and quipped, “There’s some things more exciting than mere sex.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. Like winter storms.” Griffin smiled, then upended the dregs of his coffee and pounded Broker on the shoulder. “C’mon, I gotta do a few more things here. Keys are in the Jeep. See you over at the place in an hour or so.”