"Are they in there together?"
"I think so, Terra."
"Do you think that they…?"
"No way, Link's too much of a gentleman and Zelda… well, I think Zel has been pretty careful in that area since her divorce."
"Let's not jump to conclusions, there, Mal. We all know Zelda can be prone to get emotional when she's forced out of that stupid bubble of hers—and if you ask me, kissing Link like that last night was pretty out of the bubble. And just because Link is a nice guy doesn't mean he wouldn't want to jump into bed with my sister the moment that the opportunity arrived."
"Viv, don't be so cynical!"
Malon, Vivien, and Terra were whispering outside of Zelda's bedroom door, the morning after she and Link had shared several amorous moments. The three women were all but listening at the keyhole, trying to figure out if Link and Zelda were both in there and if they were awake and, if so, were the talking to each other? Kissing? Making out? Doing what Malon still jokingly referred to as "the nasty?"
"Dude, what do you think you are doing?!" Vivien hissed, slapping Malon's arm as the redhead reached forward and grabbed the doorknob.
"I'm going to put an end to this stupid suspense!" Malon said back through her teeth as she slowly twisted the knob. She and Zelda's sisters waited with bated breath as Malon, moving at a snail's pace, gently pulled the door back. It was completely silent for a few moments until a loud creaking noise broke the air, bringing Malon to an immediate stop. She, Vivien, and Terra quickly looked into the room, hoping that the sound hadn't disturbed those inside.
As it transpired, they didn't need to worry. Zelda lay on her bed, fully clothed and in Link's old jacket to boot. Even when it had been worn by its original owner six years previously, it had been too big for him—so now, it was almost large enough to pass for a blanket on Zelda, who was comparatively short of stature. At first glance she appeared to be alone in the room, but by turning their heads slightly towards the left, the women looking in could see Link.
He was sitting in a chair by the night stand, leaned over slightly with his hands clasped together in front of him; just staring. The set up of the furniture and the serious expression on Link's face made it look as if he was a guest visiting a friend on a hospital bed. He had heard the door being cracked open, and out of the corner of his eye he could see some people trying to watch him discreetly. But he had ignored them, keeping his gaze on Zelda as she slept. Their evening had not—as Malon wondered despite herself, as Terra had guessed and Vivien had hoped—resulted in sex.
After spending quite a while outside in the snow, Zelda had walked back into the house, tacitly inviting Link to follow her back to her room. There, Zelda had kept them both up until three-thirty in the morning detailing to Link hundreds of memories from her childhood and her disastrous marriage that she hadn't ever before shared with anyone. Link, who had always been a good listener, threw in advice where he saw fit but most of the time did just the most important thing he could have done: validated Zelda's feelings. As a girl, Zelda had been controlled by her mother; as she grew up, her sisters didn't bother to consider the complexity of the relationship and just assumed that Zelda hadn't wanted any of the things their mother had helped her achieve—a somewhat naïve notion, and even though none of them had ever meant to be, the girls had occasionally been condescending in their treatment of their "baby" sister. Then Marth, of course, was an entirely different, horrifying story.
But finally, Zelda had utterly exhausted herself and after a long silence, drifted into sleep. At one point she had been occupying the chair that was now vacant next to Link, but once she had dozed off, Link had carefully transferred her onto the bed. From there he sat back down and watched her sleep, finding her fascinating. It was the only time he had ever seen a peaceful expression on her face. Once or twice her face was graced with a small smile, and Link hoped it was because of a good dream Zelda might be having. She deserved at least that much.
He hadn't gotten even a moment of sleep for the entire night.
It was time to face the people at the door. As lightly and quietly as possible, Link got to his feet and walked across the room to them. Malon, Vivien, and Terra backed up to give him space as he slid through the crack between the wall and the door that they had left. He finally smiled wearily at the sight of their anxious faces.
"Well?" Vivien asked him in a hushed voice, raising her eyebrows.
"No. Your sister and I did not do anything last night but talk."
"Please, we saw you guys making out on the porch!" Malon said.
Link's smile faltered, but then he let out a soft chuckle. "Okay, you saw that. I swear to you, that's all that happened."
"We have to believe you, I mean, unless Zelda went to the trouble of putting all those clothes back on like she guessed that we would come and try to see if anything happened between you two," Terra said in one breath. "In fact, that's totally something she would do. But far be it from me to make any moral judgments on her…"
"Ask her yourselves if you want to," Link said, completely at ease because he knew he was telling the truth.
They all narrowed their eyes at him, trying to discern if he was being honest. It was hard, especially for Terra and Vivien, to trust guys with Zelda. But after they had each considered it, Terra said, "I've got breakfast going downstairs, Link, if you want some. The kids all woke up two hours ago to go and play and the snow—Megan's having a ball, I don't think she'll ever want to move back to sunny California now."
Link smiled gratefully, nodded, and followed Terra down the hallway and the stairs to the kitchen. Vivien made for Zelda's bedroom, and Malon was about to do the same before Jack came charging up the staircase.
"Malon, there you are," he said. "Megan's been looking for you, she wants to talk to you. Or build a snowman with you or something."
"That's funny, usually Link's the one she'd go to if she wanted to do something like that," Malon remarked, shrugging and following Jack down the stairs. She stopped at the back door to put on her coat, and had to smile at the sight she saw outside. There were at least fifteen of Clarissa Cleverly's grandkids running around in the picturesque winter scene outdoors: throwing snowballs, making forts and snow angels, picking long icicles off of the house and sword-fighting with them. Megan seemed isolated, off by a side of the yard away from the other children as she struggled with a large ball of snow.
"Hey, kiddo, what's going on?" Malon asked, once she'd gotten her boots on and had ventured outside.
Megan looked up and smiled; her cheeks were pink with the cold. "Hey, Malon! Could you help me make a snowman? Everyone else is too busy making up teams for a snowball fight they wanna have later. I don't think I'd be any good at that, so…"
"Well, I'm not an expert, but I can sure try to help you out," Malon offered. "Is this the first time you've ever been in snow?"
"Yes!" Megan laughed, and even though she was shivering pretty noticeably, it could not be more clear that she was having an amazing time. "Do you think my mom's gonna wake up soon? She's never seen snow, either!"
Not until last night, anyway, Malon thought wryly to herself. "Yeah, if she's not down here in a while, I'll go up and drag her butt outside!"
For a few minutes they worked on the snowman, talking only about how to make it as big and pretty as possible. Malon taught Megan how to pack in the snow so that their creation wouldn't crumble, and after working silently in this vein for a while, Megan brought up a new subject.
"Malon, you like my mom, right?"
"Honey, I love your mom," Malon said in response. "We've been best friends for as long as I can remember."
"Oh. Cool." Another silence. Then, "She's really pretty, right? And you guys are friends. Why isn't she married, Malon?"
Malon stared at her, wondering what kind of answer she could possibly give. She got distracted when one of Vivien's kids threw a snowball that hit her square in the back; Malon whirled around threw one that hit the kid in the chest. He went down with a dramatic shout. Malon turned around, hoping maybe that Megan might have forgotten her question with the coolness of the snowball throw, but no dice.
"Um…honestly, Megan? That's something only your mother knows. I mean, it's not always love at first sight!"
"What's love at first sight?"
"What's…well…it's like, the first time you meet someone, you fall in love with them. Right away. Zip, bam, boom, no questions asked. You know, like Cinderella or Snow White or one of those people."
Megan looked confused for a moment. "Oh right, I've heard of them."
"You've heard of them?" Malon asked. "Honey, you've seen the movies, haven't you?" She was dumbfounded when Megan continued to stare blankly back at her. "The Disney movies, Megan?"
"Disney movies," Megan finally said, with a knowing look on her face. "Mom never let me watch those."
Malon had to work hard to keep her jaw from dropping. "Giroux," she muttered darkly, recalling the name of a very anti-Disney writer whose work Zelda had read. In a louder voice, Malon said, "I'll be talking to your mother about that."
"Well, that's not really important," Megan said impatiently, pulling down the sleeves of her jacket so they would meet the bottom of her mittens. "I asked you because I think that Link's in love with my mom. And I think that if she stopped running around doing work for five minutes, she would be in love with him, too."
"Wow, Megan." Malon now had to work even harder not to burst out laughing. The girl had hit the nail on the head—but Malon did not feel it was her place to tell Megan what exactly had gone down only last night. She'd let Zelda handle that one... whenever she decided to get up… Malon glanced at the Zelda's bedroom window on the second story, and was surprised to see Zelda standing there, looking out. She waved down at Malon, then turned around when the bedroom door closed behind her.
"Are you feeling all right now?" Link asked her, having been the one to shut the door and now walking slowly towards Zelda.
"Oh, goodness…Link I'm so embarrassed at my behavior last night, crying all over you, dumping all of that on you, it was so careless of me," Zelda said. It was strange; as if brought on by the snow and ice outside, there was now definitely a colder, more formal edge to Zelda's voice that was reminiscent of how she had usually spoken to Link before last night. "I promise you it won't happen again."
Link put his hands in his pockets and stared at the ground. Zelda, still wearing his coat, was standing by the window with an imperious look on her face. The Ice Queen. Before Link could ask anything, Zelda went on, "I can sometimes let my feelings get the better of me…well, I mean to say that I usually don't anymore, I don't know what came over me last night." Yes I do. I realized how much I love you. Dismissing this thought, Zelda repeated, "Really, it won't happen again."
"No?" Link asked with a shrug. "It won't ever, huh? Why's that?"
Zelda still refused to look at him, preferring instead to stare out at the snow, but her brow furrowed and she pulled the jacket closer to herself. "Well, in retrospect it kind of made me feel uncomfortable, and so I can only imagine that if that's how it made me feel, you must have been in an even more awkward situation than me."
"Don't go jumping to conclusions, now," Link said, taking a few steps closer to her. He stepped to the side of the window, in case for some reason Clarissa was outside and looked up and saw him in the bedroom with her daughter—who looked as if she might not be wearing anything underneath that large jacket she was hugging to her body (which wasn't the case). To solve this, Link pulled roughly on the drapes, and they closed dramatically. Zelda winced and finally looked over at him.
"Come on, Link," she muttered. "Be fair."
"No, you be fair, Zelda Cleverly," he said back, using a much more assertive tone than he ever had with her. "I don't care whether or not you're fair to me, but at least be fair to yourself." No reaction. "Oh. Oh, I see what this is about now." He chuckled dryly. "What is it, boss? You want to be tough? Want everyone to be afraid of you? Last night you opened to me for this first time, and I get the feeling you hadn't done that to anyone in quite a while. Don't you get it? I want to help you."
"I don't need any help, Link," Zelda said through her teeth.
"Oh, yeah? If that's so, why don't you drop that vice grip you've got there on my jacket, then, huh?"
Throwing him a withering look, Zelda bit her lip from saying something she might regret. With sudden, vindictive force, she took the jacket off as if it had burned her. She made to throw it at Link, but found herself unable to let go of it. Instead, her arm swayed out in front of her, with the jacket slung over her arm. In his mind, Link counted to ten with the best poker face he could muster. In just those ten seconds, he saw Zelda's expression slip from shaky confidence to indescribable sadness.
"Please, Link," she said in a hoarse voice. "Please, take it."
Link shook his head in disbelief. Didn't she remember last night at all? She had kissed him, repeatedly! And then spilled her life story on his lap. Why then, this morning, was she stiff as a board and unwilling to pick up where they had left off? He wondered briefly how she would react if he were to push her back on that bed and—
Oh, Goddesses, what am I thinking?! he said internally, disgusted with himself for even getting the idea in his mind. She's so vulnerable, how I could even possibly entertain that thought for one second? I'm no better than Marth. Feeling a little sick to his stomach, Link spared Zelda one more look before crossing the room and exiting it, opening and closing the door much louder than he had meant to.
Naturally, Zelda misinterpreted this for anger and/or annoyance with her. Not that she could blame him; she was acting like a complete jerk. After standing there numbly for a few moments, she gently sat herself back down on the bed, Link's jacket in her lap. How could she have possibly been so terrible to him just now, when all he wanted to do was help her? He had said last night that he loved her…and she…well, actually, she had been the first one to say that she loved him. The words had just come out…
"ZELDA!"
She jumped and nearly fell off the bed at the unexpectedness and volume of her best friend shouting her name. Unseen by her at first, Malon had come into the bedroom and now (slamming the door shut behind her) stalking towards the bed with a look on her face not unlike that a charging rhinoceros might wear.
"What in hell or high water were you THINKING?!"
"Malon, what are you talking about?" Zelda asked wearily.
"I've been outside with Megan, and just a minute ago Link comes downstairs and out with a—a look on his face I've never seen there before, it just wasn't natural! Not on him! He was crestfallen, he was hurt, and I know he came directly from this room! Tell me what you did that was so awful to that sweet, love-struck boy down there, the one who would follow you to the ends of the earth, the one who would do just about anything short of murder for you! Tell me!"
"Malon, please, you have to understand!" Zelda said, tears threatening to come out of her eyes. She blinked—and come they did. "You don't know what it's like, Mal, you have no idea!"
The redhead stared at her. "Zel…are you crying?"
"No!" Zelda sobbed, leaning over and planting her face in a pillow.
Not for the life of her could Malon recall the last time she had seen Zelda cry. If, in fact, she ever had. The sight was so heart-breaking, that Malon almost forgot why she had come up in the first place. Well, she supposed, she could try and be a little more sympathetic. Malon sat down next to Zelda on the bed, trying to pull her friend up. It took quite a bit of effort to get Zelda into a sitting position, and when she was, it took her a few moments to become coherent.
"I haven't…I haven't been a serious relationship—any relationship—since Marth and I got divorced," Zelda said, choking through her tears. "And last night, h-he kissed me, and I just…it was so…" She took a deep breath and let out a strange laugh, brief and mirthless—a noise that made Malon feel as bad as the sight of Zelda crying, because the laugh seemed to mock not only others but the laugher herself. "I let myself get too carried away," Zelda finished in a hollow voice. "And this morning it just all came roaring back to me, what happened the last time I loved someone so much."
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. "Look, Zelda, can you take some constructive criticism? Well, what am I saying, you're a lawyer, sure you can!" Malon said bracingly, tightening her grip on Zelda's arm. "You are one of the most intelligent people that I know, Zelda. It scares me how much your last name suits you. But it always used to blow my mind that you could be so blindly in love with a jerk like Marth, no offense."
"None taken," Zelda snorted. "I was an idiot in the highest degree."
"No, not yet you weren't," Malon said. "The title of 'idiot in the highest degree' would belong only to someone who couldn't see that one of the world's most perfect guys was madly in love with her. Marth …was not ever in love with you. Truth hurts, babe, you've got to come to terms with it. Marth was only ever interested in you because ....well, let's face it, you were—well, you still are—pretty much the sexiest creature on this planet, yes?"
Zelda whimpered a weak chuckle. "Oh, sure."
"Really, Zel, I want to know. Do you have any sort of… I mean, could you just tell me what it was? What drew you to Marth and kept you tied to him for so long?"
Long, wistful sigh. "Oh, Mal…what difference does it make now? I can't really explain it. I mean, I don't know, mom always raised me to believe that if there was anything I wanted in this world, I could get it if I worked for it. I was a kid the first time I met Marth, barely in high school. He was everything a freshman girl could want—he was gorgeous, the teachers loved him, he was an athlete, and he… he was into me. He felt like any moment he spent not kissing me or touching me was a moment wasted, and I thought that was so romantic."
"And your ideas of romance did not change as time wore on?"
"Well, I just couldn't picture being with anyone else. Marth was the only person I'd ever been on a date with, the only boyfriend I ever had. Look at my home life, Mal, it's not like I had a steady example for me with my mom. I just took it for granted that every guy would have his faults, and who else would ever want to be with me, anyway?"
Seriously? Malon had to count to ten again to keep herself from smacking Zelda upside the head. "I don't know, who would want to be with you, Zel, when all you do is pity yourself behind that tough, hard-as-nails exterior you like to hide behind? Maybe you could have gotten some respect from Marth—respect for yourself—if you had stood up to him once in a while! Geez, who raised you to be all obsequious?!"
"Not my mom, that's for sure," Zelda said thickly. "Maybe that was it. Maybe because it was a decision I could make on my own, that she couldn't interfere in, maybe that's why I wanted to keep it going, I…I don't know."
"Zel, tell me whatever it is you DO know," Malon pleaded. "Or how about this, wanna hear more of my obnoxious spin? You thought Marth fondling and trying to get his tongue in you was romantic? Here's what I think is romantic: the first snow of the year, in the evening. Sharing a chair, sharing a jacket. Having the opportunity to sleep with you, to do you—and yet not take advantage of your emotional state, and instead just let you vent. Watching you sleep, like a freaking guardian angel or something. That iswhat I think constitutes romance. A lot better than anything Nicholas Sparks could ever dream up, I'll tell you that." She let this sink in, and was satisfied by the effect it seemed to be having on her friend. "Can't you tell the difference at all between your feelings for Marth and the ones you have for Link?"
"I just don't want to get hurt again," Zelda whispered.
"Oh, for the love of—" Grumbling incoherently, Malon vaulted off the bed and walked over to the window, opening the curtains loudly. "Look! Come and have a look at him, Zel!" She tapped her foot impatiently as Zelda dragged herself out of the bed and leaned against the wall just beside the window, so she could look out of it without being seen. "Do you see him, right there?" Malon asked, pointing. Link was holding a box of raisins and a carrot, helping Megan to finish the snowman that Malon had assisted her to start. "Does he look like the kind of guy who would ever hurt you?"
Zelda couldn't say anything. She was enamored with the way that this impossibly kind man was playing with her daughter. With a jolt, Zelda remembered what Link had told her last night, about Megan knowing the truth about her horrendous father. "I should really go and, um… talk to Megan about something," Zelda muttered.
"Hey, that reminds me," Malon said when Zelda was halfway to the door. "I was talking to Megan this morning. She's a pretty perceptive kid, I must say. I guess she gets it from you. Anyway, she has a hunch that Link's in love with you. And she's pretty sure that you're in love with him, too."
"From the mouths of babes," Zelda said with a small smile.
"Zel, are you? I mean, was Megan right…?"
With a slightly more pronounced smile, Zelda threw Link's jacket on once more. "I think there's a very good possibility that she may have been, yes." She made to head for the door again, but was brought to another halt by Malon.
"Dude, don't you have any nicer jackets you could wear? Honestly, isn't there like a Cleverly dress code or something?"
Zelda snorted a laugh. "Malon…do you by any chance remember this one night, um, six years ago …I had gone to New York for see Deb's graduation." Malon nodded. "Well, do you remember that guy I told you about? The one I met at the movie theater who took me to see Little Women?"
"Uh…oh, yeah! Gosh, yes. Oh my goodness, wait. That's his jacket, isn't it?"
"Yes…and Link's as well."
Malon's eyes narrowed in confusion, then they popped open wide. "NO. WAY."
With a sardonic grin, Zelda merely said, "Way," then finally left the bedroom. She raced down the stairs, passed Jack in the kitchen, and nearly bulldozed over her mother, who was just about to step outside—Zelda accidentally knocked into her but kept moving as if she hadn't noticed, blazing forth into the wintry snow. There was Megan, and there was Link, straightening up after having stooped down to put a final, prune button on the snowman's chest. Not caring that her daughter, her mother, and countless other family members were watching, Zelda sloshed her way through the snow to Link, threw her arms around him and kissed him with so much force that they both collapsed onto the snow.
"I was so awful to you just now," Zelda breathed after breaking for air. She was on top of him, looking sorrowfully down at her conquest.
"Oh, uh, I didn't really mind that, actually," Link said.
It took her a moment to get it, then Zelda laughed—and this time the sound was a much happier, almost carefree one. "No, I mean in my bedroom. All those thoughtless, rude things, I'm so, so sorry." As if to emphasize this, she leaned down and kissed him again, savoring the feeling of his lips against her own, his hands in her hair, his face under her fingertips. It didn't feel like she was out in freezing snow at all.
"Do you promise not to freak out on me like that again?" Link asked, struggling to a sitting position (which got easier once Zelda moved off of him). "Because I don't know if I can—"
"Sh." Zelda put a finger to his lips and said, "I promise I'm going to make this work, Link. I won't pull something like that on you again, ever, not if I can help it."
"Then you need to believe me," Link said, taking both of Zelda's hands in his own and clasping them together. "You have to believe me when I say that I would never, ever consciously do anything that could potentially hurt you in any way, shape, or form." He leaned in to kiss her again, but a long shadow loomed over the two of them before anything else could happen.
In unison, Link and Zelda looked up to see Clarissa Cleverly glaring down at them. "Zelda, dear," she said in a syrupy voice that deceived neither of them, "I heard your phone ringing just now, and it's a good thing I did. It's your Jewish friend from work, apparently there's something important she needs to tell you."
"Mom, it can wait, I'm on holiday," Zelda said.
"Work waits for no man," Clarissa said in a sing-song voice.
Zelda considered this for a moment. She touched Link on the cheek, then gave him a small kiss before getting to her feet. Now the cold was starting to sink in. Her teeth chattered together as she headed for the kitchen, but she got apprehended by her daughter, who was punching the air victoriously and yelling, "I knew it! I knew it!" She hugged her mother tightly around the waist, and for a moment or two Zelda looked as if she didn't know what she was supposed to do. Then, with a hesitant smile, she bent down and embraced Megan with more maternal affection than she'd possibly ever been able to garner in the young girl's life.
"Honey, the phone," Clarissa said.
"Schreiber can wait for just one more second," Zelda muttered. She then stooped down so that she was Megan's height; she pulled down the sides of Megan's hat so that it covered her ears a bit more, and pulled up the collar of her winter coat. "I'll be right back, sweetheart, I promise. Then we're going to play."
"You're going to play?" Megan asked in shock, her eyebrows nearly disappearing underneath her hat. She was entirely incapable of summoning a visual of her mother, the stringent, well-dressed lawyer, playing in the snow.
"Yes, it's a Thanksgiving miracle!" Zelda laughed before finally going inside. In a show of gumption that she hadn't had seen she was a young adolescent, Zelda stuck her tongue out at her mother before taking her phone. "Hey, Schreiber!"
"Zelda, I am so sorry to call you on vacation like this," Eliza groaned. "But for some reason or another, Dragmire doesn't have your number and he insisted that I get in touch with you as soon as possible. Because he's a sad, lonely old man with no family and no life whom we should all pity, he took time this morning to check all of our office messages. Apparently there's one for you that sounded extremely desperate and Dragmire wants you to call him back at once. Oh, and um, you can't call your machine to check it because Dragmire's a technological idiot and he accidentally erased everybody's messages this morning. Good thing he's old-fashioned and wrote them all down first."
"Oy, vey," Zelda sighed, looking around the kitchen for a piece of paper and a pencil. She borrowed a grocery list that Vivien had going on the side of the fridge, and managed to find a pen in one of the drawers. "Okay, I guess I'll get on it sometime later today. Do you have the number?"
"Yeah, just a sec." Eliza pulled up the phone number and gave it to Zelda, and was about to hang up before Zelda asked her what exactly the name was of the guy she was supposed to be calling. "Oh, that's right. Yeah, it was a weird name, I'd never heard it before. Oh, here we go. It's Marth…Malloy. Malloy? Yes. Marth Malloy. Okay, well, sorry again to interrupt you like this, but I'm only acting on orders from above. …Zel? Zelda, are you there?"