“ARE YOU SURE you want me here?” Leanne asked.
“He wants you to take pictures.” Caleb handed her Matthew’s camera, then led her through the door into the waiting area of Hans Schilling’s school. “I told him I would, but he didn’t trust me to do a good enough job.” He was dressed in a business suit today, charcoal gray with a light blue dress shirt, clean shaven, no boots. Handsome as the devil and nervous as hell.
“You know he’s going to do just fine,” she said, patting Caleb on the hand.
“This is worse than when I took my medical boards, and I was pretty nervous about that.”
“Was Matthew nervous this morning?” she asked him.
“I don’t think the kid gets nervous about anything. He got up, ate his usual cereal, showered, brushed his teeth, got dressed, gathered up his music and walked out to the truck like it was any other day. But me—I couldn’t eat, I used hand sanitizer rather than shampoo, tried on three suits and four shirts, put on socks that didn’t match, and took a couple of antacid pills to settle my stomach. Then couldn’t find the keys to my truck, which were in the bowl on the kitchen table—same place I always put them.”
“It’s an important day for you,” she said.
Caleb shook his head. “Not for me. For Matthew. He needs this.”
“And he’ll get it. I met Schilling briefly the other day. He came to have a routine physical from Dad, and we chatted in passing. He seems to have great insight into life in general. I’m sure he’ll see the talent and the potential Matthew has, and accept him.”
“Wish I was that confident,” Caleb grumbled. The waiting area in the recital hall resembled a lodge, much like everything in Marrell did. Lots of wood, wide-open spaces and rustic decor. Not the kind of place he would have expected from a world-renowned pianist but, then, he’d never known a world-renowned pianist before, so he really didn’t know what to expect. “But Matthew’s only been in there five minutes, and I’m ready to fall apart.”
“How long does the total audition take?”
“About two hours. He’ll hear Matthew play first, then ask him questions. After which he’ll give him an academic test to make sure he can be placed appropriately, if accepted.”
“Then it sounds to me like Matthew’s going to have a pretty easy time of it.”
“Except that he’s two years younger than the children Schilling normally accepts. His starting age is seven, and he’s making a huge exception for Matthew, just auditioning him.” Thanks, largely, to his grandmother’s apple pies and Hans Schilling’s voracious appetite for them.
“When he’s accepted—and you notice I said when, not if—will he live here?”
“That’s a requirement. Schilling likes to keep the kids close, so he can see to the proper discipline they need, both academically as well as musically.”
“And Matthew’s agreeable to that?”
“He’s agreeable to anything that will allow him to practice on a concert grand piano. Which I don’t happen to have.” Having Matthew leave him, even if he’d only be a few miles away, was something Caleb wasn’t sure how he was going to handle. Schilling allowed liberal visiting hours. Parents were welcome anytime except during practice hours, and they could come and go as often as they pleased. Schilling also allowed plenty of time for the children to go out with their parents for hours, even for a few days when the schedule permitted. So, it wasn’t like he and Matthew were going to be separated forever. They weren’t. He’d see him every day. But he’d only be tucking him into bed on the weekends, when Matthew came home to visit, and to Caleb, that already felt like hell. “It’s a good program, and Matthew needs that kind of structure in his life, especially with his…”
“Gifts?” Leanne supplied.
“Right now, he’s easy because he’s only five. But I can see the time coming when I won’t be able to give him everything he needs. Academically maybe. Emotionally definitely. But musically… For Matthew, it’s all tied up in one tight little ball that I can’t untie. That’s where Schilling comes in. He works with the parents of children like Matthew. Teaches them how to take care of their children’s special talents.”
“So, when will Matthew be leaving?” she asked.
Caleb moaned. “Too soon. School’s on hiatus for six weeks right now, but in another couple of weeks it’ll resume, and I’m afraid my life is going to change in ways I don’t even want to think about.” He dreaded that day, didn’t know how he was going to get through it. But this was about Matthew, not him. “And I’m not looking forward to it. But you do what you have to do to take care of your kid.”
“Unlike my father, who did anything he could to occupy himself with work and not me… Anyway, can I get you some coffee, Caleb?” Leanne asked. “Or prescribe you a tranquilizer?”
“Was Henry really that bad?”
“Dad was never bad. He just never had time. I think he counted on my mother to raise me, and when she died, he didn’t know what to do. So, he didn’t do anything.”
“I guess I never saw that.” Probably because there had been too many other things to see, and deal with.
“When I was younger, I didn’t either. But as I got older…” She shook her head. “Anyway, about that coffee…”
He could see by the melancholy look on her face that this wasn’t a topic she wanted to talk about. So, he rooted around the rest of the questions he wanted to ask, like, Would you have been less of a bully if your dad had paid more attention to you? Or, Was your bullying merely a way to get your dad’s attention? He played it safe. For now. “Just keep talking to me. That’ll work.”
Forcing herself to smile a smile that never quite made it all the way to genuine, she held up the camera. “How about I take a picture of you?” She clicked before he had time to protest. “And another, since Matthew likes multiples of the same thing.”
“He likes to analyze them for subtle differences. He told me no two pictures are ever the same.” Caleb walked over to the front window, the one with the expansive view of the meadow in the foreground and the river in the background. A movie crew was filming down at the river today—an adventure movie, he’d heard. Meaning Marrell was brimming with activity—something entirely new for him. Something to indicate his little town really was growing up. “I appreciate you taking time off work to come with us. I know Matthew wanted you here for himself, but I think I need you more than he does.” Because, quite simply, he liked being around Leanne. It was conflicting, it was troubling, but none of that stopped him. Like it hadn’t stopped him all those years ago. Except he was older now. Knew better. He hoped.
“That’s what old friends are for,” she said, backing away from the concert grand in the lodge’s lobby, then taking a picture of it. “Will they let us in to see Matthew during any part of the interview? Because I’d like to get some pictures.”
“Right now, they’re going over some of the preliminaries with him, but when he plays, we can watch him from an observation booth.”
“Dr. Carsten?”
Caleb spun around to face the tall, austere blonde woman who was standing in the doorway through which Matthew had disappeared moments earlier. “Yes?” he asked, tentatively, as his momentary lapse of nerves was exiting and a new round tromping in.
“You and your guest are welcome to join us in the studio. Matthew is becoming acquainted with the piano, and Maestro Schilling will be joining him momentarily. So, if you’d like to follow me, I’ll be glad to explain the next part of the process to you, and allow you a minute or two with Matthew before he proceeds into the audition portion of this interview.”
“And take pictures?” Leanne asked.
“Of course.” The woman turned and headed into the studio, leaving Caleb and Leanne to follow.
“He looks so small at that piano,” Leanne said, in almost a whisper, as they entered the studio. “And serious.” Aiming the camera, she took a couple of pictures from the back of the room, then simply stood back and watched him for a minute. He was so like Caleb was, and it stirred an unexpected emotion in her. Pride. Even though Matthew wasn’t hers, she had so much pride in him her heart was swelling with it.
“You can go talk to him,” the blonde woman said, interrupting Leanna’s thoughts. “He doesn’t seem nervous, but most children like to have a little reassurance from their parents before this part of the interview commences.”
“Thank you,” Leanne said, giving Caleb a nudge forward. “You go down there. I’ll stay here and get a picture of it.”
“If my legs will carry me that far,” he said, as nervous sweat started to break out on his forehead.
“You’re not going to hyperventilate, are you?” she whispered to him.
“If I do, it’s a good thing I brought a doctor along with me, isn’t it?”
Leanne laughed. “Go talk to him, Caleb. He may appear unfazed, but he’s only five and he needs your support.” Before she left the observation area, she stretched up on tiptoe and brushed his lips lightly with a kiss. A kiss that, oddly, tingled on her lips. And one that she repeated, for a second or two longer than the first.
He looked stunned at first. Looked as taken aback as she felt. But his expression gave way quickly to a smile. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…” she began, but stopped. Now wasn’t the time to try explaining this, or even wonder why she’d done it, because she didn’t know. Caleb had looked vulnerable and she supposed she had been responding to that. But she wasn’t sure. “For luck,” she finally conceded, then walked away before he had the chance to see the red flush creeping its way up her neck.
“Thank you,” he called after her, as she headed up to the observation booth while he headed down to the stage.
She ignored that, however. Just kept on walking until she was at the top of the bowl-shaped performance area, and safely tucked away in the observation booth. Leaning against the wall. Eyes shut. Breathing hard from embarrassment or distress or whatever else was bothering her about giving him a stupid little kiss.
* * *
Caleb spent the next two minutes talking to Matthew, who didn’t seem daunted by anything going on, even though he himself was daunted by that kiss. It was probably just as Leanne had said…for luck. But what if it wasn’t? And why was it more on his mind right now than Matthew’s audition? Because she’d never kissed him before, that’s why. Not even in those few years when they’d been childhood friends. And there’d been so many times when he’d wanted that kiss and had known he’d never get it.
Well, he’d got it now, and it was distracting him at a time when everything he wanted for his son was walking through the door and taking a seat, getting ready to pass judgment. “Look, Matthew,” Caleb whispered in the boy’s ear, shaking himself back into the moment, “You know you can do this. Leanne and I will be up there…” He pointed to the glassed off section at the top of the room. “So, if anything…” He stopped, regrouped, then took a deep breath. “I love you,” he said. “And I’m proud of you.” Then retreated to the observation room to have a silent breakdown.
On his way up the stairs, Caleb nodded at Schilling, finally allowing himself a good look at the man. Aged well into his seventies, with long gray-white hair and impeccable navy blue suit, he sported an ascot. Red paisley print. Very proper old-world man, Caleb decided, then smiled and relaxed when Matthew giggled at something Schilling whispered to him.
“This is going to work,” he said, scooting back to the edge of his chair in the observation room, his relaxation short-lived as he watched Matthew squirm his way into position on the piano bench.
“Matthew looks like you did when you were that age,” Leanne said.
“Does he?”
“You were always so serious, like you had an agenda with the world. Even when we played, you were always focused on something else. Something I couldn’t see, or didn’t understand. Like Matthew is always so focused.”
“And ostracized for it,” he said flatly.
“You weren’t,” she said. “Not that I remember. I think people were a little afraid of you because you were so smart, but I liked you. Liked listening to you, even though I didn’t understand half of what you were telling me.”
And she’d liked ridiculing him when they got older.
How could her memories be so different from his?
This was turning into a trust issue. He wanted to, thought he did, but there was this unsettled little part of him that still warned him to be wary. “Well, Matthew’s a whole lot smarter than I was, and he’s certainly more talented. I think when I was five my only talent was making mud pies.”
“My dad said you used to drag home stray animals, that you had your own little zoo going. And you’d care for those animals. Pretend to be their doctor. He said you were actually pretty talented at discovering some simple illnesses, even at that age.”
So, she was talking to her dad about him? Yet forgetting, or pretending to forget, how things had really been? Nope, none of this was making sense to him and he wondered if Leanne was still living in a fairy-princess world where she could have things her way simply because she wanted them to be? “Haven’t had a pet since I left Marrell. If we stay here, I might get Matthew a puppy. He keeps telling me he wants one, and I think it will be good for him.”
“I’ve never had a pet. My dad didn’t have time to take care of one, and I wasn’t responsible enough.” She chuckled. “In fact, Dad told me I wasn’t responsible about a lot of things when I was young. He said it used to worry him.”
And she was sitting next to the living proof of her irresponsibility. Not remembering, or not caring enough to remember. Or maybe it had been so common with her—a second nature that he always excused because of his other feelings—that it just floated right on past her? “I remember some of that,” he said, as the lights dimmed in the studio, and the observation room speakers were turned on so they could hear what was going on.
Leanne leaned over and took hold of his hand. And he didn’t resist her. Didn’t shove her away. In fact, he was glad of her comfort. Wasn’t sure he liked being glad of it, but he was, nonetheless.
“Mr. Carsten,” Hans Schilling said, addressing Matthew. “I see, by your application, I’m going to hear to hear Chopin’s Fantaisie-Impromptu, Opus 66. But, Matthew, because I know your hands are still too small to accomplish this piece as it should be played, I’d like you to commence at the key change, beginning with the moderato cantabile, going through the next key change so I can assess how you handle the faster passages, ending just after the sempre crescendo just before you get to the forte chord. Do you understand where that is in the score?”
“Yes, sir,” Matthew said, his voice confident and strong.
“Then, please, begin anytime you’re ready.”
In the observation booth, Caleb sucked in a deep breath and held it, and didn’t let it go until Matthew played his first note, which seemed an eternity. In slow motion. Then it all went by in a blur. Caleb recognized the music, but he was more intent on watching Schilling for a reaction. So, he focused on the maestro, and the music flowed on, perfectly as far as he could tell. And Leanne’s hold on his hand turned into a harder squeeze, getting harder and harder as the audition progressed. Still, he kept his eyes on Schilling, who gave nothing away. Then suddenly the music stopped, Leanne’s squeeze on his hand let up, Matthew stepped away from the piano bench and took a bow to the single applauding member of the audience. It was over. All those months of work and this was it. Caleb didn’t know whether to stand up and cheer or melt into a nervous breakdown on the floor.
He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, slumped back in his seat, and finally allowed himself to breathe. Then looked over and smiled at Leanne, who was slumped back much the way he was.
“He’s stunning,” she whispered, wiping tears from her eyes. “I never expected… Caleb, I can’t even tell you how wonderful he is.”
Caleb nodded, fighting back his own tears. “He is,” he whispered in return.
“Now, Mr. Carsten, referring to your repertoire list, I see that you have listed Mozart’s Piano Sonata No. 16 in C Major, K. 545. Do you have that committed to memory?”
“I commit everything to memory, sir,” Matthew answered, not in the least shy.
“Please, then, start at the beginning and play until I tell you to stop.”
“He hasn’t practiced that one for the audition,” Caleb said, sucking in another sharp breath and scooting back to the edge of his seat. “Why would Schilling do that to him?”
“He’ll be fine,” Leanne said, scooting to the edge of her own seat again and taking hold of Caleb’s hand once more, like it was the natural thing to do between them now. “And maybe Schilling’s doing that because he’s so impressed he wants to see the full of extent of Matthew’s talent.”
“It’s killing me. Just killing me. And look at my son. He’s calm. How can he be that calm, Leanne?”
She laughed. “You’re just being a typical parent, Caleb. But don’t worry about Matthew. Do you see his face? This is the world where he belongs.”
Caleb nodded, but nothing alleviated his nerves as Matthew’s melodious strains started to fill the studio. Surprisingly, Schilling listened to the entire first movement of the Mozart, rather than cutting it off. Then asked Matthew to perform another off his repertoire list, a Bach Two-part Invention. When the audition was over, Matthew hopped off the bench, took his bow, then asked Schilling for a drink of water.
“Through those doors at the rear,” Schilling said, turning to the observation booth and gesturing for Caleb to join him. “The woman outside, Miss Dobson, will give you a drink. We also have lemonade and milk, if you’d prefer.”
“Lemonade has sugar, which is not good for you, unless it’s in moderation.” He grinned at the use of his new word. “And I don’t like milk so much.”
“But our water here is very good. Healthy. Lots of beneficial minerals.” Schilling laughed. “Make sure you tell Miss Dobson you want the healthy water.”
Matthew nodded, then skipped out of the studio as Caleb and Leanne entered. “You know Dr. Sinclair,” Caleb said, taking hold of Leanne’s arm and leading her toward the front of the studio.
“Ah, yes. We met briefly just the other day. I’m assuming she’ll be my new doctor, now that her father is retiring. And, I hope, the doctor who replaces her father as the school doctor.”
Leanne shook her head. “That won’t be me, but I think Dr. Carsten here can be persuaded.”
“Very good,” Schilling said, extending a hand to Caleb. “Now, about Matthew…” Schilling’s warm smile grew wider. “The audition went well. Much better than I anticipated. And I love his intellect. He reminds me of myself when I was his age. Too intelligent, and very gifted, without the proper instruction on how to deal with it. My parents tried, but I was…different. And that can be quite a burden for someone so young, which is why I created the school: to start children like Matthew off in a direction that better suits their capabilities. And educate their parents on how to handle such a special child. So, if everything else in this interview goes as I anticipate it will, I think Matthew will be a nice addition to our family, even though he’s a bit younger than I’m used to training.”
Caleb was so relieved to hear the news he didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry. “I haven’t been able to find the best teachers for him. He can be…intimidating, and I think he scares a lot of people because he does get a kick out of trying to present himself as knowing more than they do.”
Schilling laughed. “Little tykes like that, especially ones with an attitude, don’t intimidate me, no matter how good they are at the piano, and no matter how intelligent they are. In fact, it’s my goal to intimidate them a little. Keeps them humble.”
“He’ll have time here to be just a regular little boy, won’t he?” Leanne asked.
“Mandatory. Children like Matthew can get so wrapped up in their pursuits they lose their childhood, so I strive to make everything here as normal as I can, to teach these kids they must live in the world, and not separate from it. Accordingly, we have television, movies, video games, outdoor activities. Horses. Like I said, I grew up like Matthew—sheltered as a prodigy and a genius, and it’s not a life any child should have, which is why we work for as much normalcy as we can get. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to prepare for the interview portion of this, and if you two would like, please have a look around the property. Everything is open for your inspection.” Then he exited the studio through the side door, leaving Caleb and Leanne standing there, Caleb simply staring into space while Leanne snapped photos.
“I think he’s in,” Caleb finally said.
“Was there ever any doubt?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure.” He took hold of her arm and led her to the back door. “Anyway, care to take a walk with me?”
“If we could go outside so I can take some pictures. I want to make sure he gets this full day journaled, and that includes the riding stable out back.”
“You two seem to share the same photographic interest,” Caleb commented.
“I’d forgotten how much I loved it. When I was a child, my dad would let me wander around by myself a lot of the time because he was too busy to go with me. And I’d always take my camera because, with it, it wasn’t so lonely being by myself. I always had it as a distraction to keep my mind off how I was really feeling. But then I grew up and…” She shrugged. “You know how it is. Other interests take over.”
In Leanne’s case, her other interests had turned quite social. She’d been the popular girl in school, the one every other girl wanted as a friend, and every boy wanted to date. She’d known it, and had taken full advantage of it. But today wasn’t the day to dwell on all that. It was Matthew’s day, and Matthew was his focus. “Outside sounds perfect. Especially the stables. Matthew’s been telling me he wants to learn to ride.”
Leanne pointed the camera at his face and snapped. “That one’s going to be titled ‘Dad with Concerned Look.’”
Smiling, she spun around and flounced to the front door while Caleb held back and watched her. Caution and all, she was certainly hard to resist. Always had been.
* * *
“He’s sleeping,” Caleb said, closing the bedroom door behind him. The three of them had spent the entire day together. First the audition. Then ice cream. After that, Matthew had insisted on taking photos of Stiller’s Well, a sizable sinkhole, fenced off for safety’s sake, about twenty miles outside town. The trip out there took nearly two hours, as Matthew was so keyed up he wanted to stop every hundred feet for a photo. And the trip back took nearly as long, as Leanne asked to stop at an old trading post, where she bought herself a brand-new camera, zoom lenses, filters, tripods and other accessories.
Overall, it had been a nice day, other than his case of audition jitters, and he was pleased that Leanne was forging quite a bond with his son. It worried him, though, because he didn’t want Matthew getting too attached to someone who’d already made it perfectly clear she wasn’t staying. He’d sailed through his mother’s abandonment like a little trouper, but he’d been only two, and the full impact of it might not have sunk in. But getting attached to Leanne, like he clearly was, and her leaving him…
“I think the day just wore him out. Normally, he’s not in bed for a couple more hours.”
Leanne sat on Caleb’s butter-soft leather couch, shut her eyes and leaned her head back. “He gets tired easily because he’s only five, Caleb. Sometimes I think you forget that.”
“I do, because he’s so…old.”
“He’s also barely more than a baby.”
Caleb crossed the room and sprawled out in the chair across from Leanne rather than plopping down next to her. “I appreciate you being there. It could have turned into a long, difficult day for me, just sitting around, biting my nails and waiting for Matthew to get through his interviews.”
“Well, one of the perks of owning the hospital is that I can schedule myself in and out any way I need to so long as everything’s covered.”
“So, what are you going to do, Leanne? Have you given it any thought?”
She shook her head. “Nothing solid after I leave here. Since my plans with Eric fell through—”
“Hard and ugly,” he interrupted. “I’m sorry about that. And I’m also sorry for the things I said to you that day. I was wrong, and you didn’t deserve it.”
“Apology accepted. And, overall, the breakup could have been worse. I might have actually planned my life around him. Instead, I was still in the planning on planning my life around him stage. Really messed up, huh?”
“Well, then, I’m sorry your life is so messed up.”
“Messed up and transitional.” She grimaced. “Sounds pretty bad, doesn’t it?”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I know how you feel. Been there myself.”
“So, you know the end of the story? Please tell me you do.” She smiled at him. “Please tell me how it turns out.”
Caleb chuckled. “Wish I could. But I haven’t reached the end yet, and I don’t have a clue what it’s going to be. As for you, I suppose your ending can actually turn into a beginning.”
“That sounds interesting, especially since I’m wondering if I can even go back and work in the same hospital with him. And since I know he’s not going anywhere…guess that leaves me in a me or him kind of a situation, doesn’t it?”
“I’m curious. What do you say in matters like this? Sorry for your loss?”
“More like, good riddance.” Leanne straightened up on the sofa. “So, as far as what I’ll be doing next, I don’t know. Maybe take some more time off and hang around here a while longer. Or look for another position in Seattle, because I really do love it there. He took a lot from me, Caleb. My dignity. My reputation. Probably my job. And I feel so…unsure.”
“Unsure isn’t easy,” he said, commiserating with her yet, at the same time, thinking back on all the times she’d made him feel unsure. Wishing those thoughts would just go away because the here-and-now Leanne was the one he’d always wanted her to be. The memories wouldn’t disappear, though. No matter how hard he tried to force them away, they were still hanging in as a warning. A guard against letting down his guard. “I suppose you either ignore it, or embrace it. If you ignore it, you pretend none of it matters, or didn’t happen.” Like how she was ignoring the uncertainties she’d heaped on him. “If you embrace it, you let it teach you a lesson.” How not to trust so easily. How not to be so gullible the way he’d been. And, to an extent, was now.
“Well, even though I don’t know where I’m going, I do know where I’m not staying. So, after this audition, I’m expecting your answer. And Eric…well, that’s water under the bridge. I’m moving on. Not sure which direction, but that really doesn’t bother me so much because I’ve always liked new directions. Old ones get…boring.”
She was so matter-of-fact about it. Out with the old, in with the new. For a moment, he thought he’d seen a true change in her. But now he wondered. Again. Back and forth. Seeing the changes, then unseeing them because she was taking this the way she took everything else—brushing it aside for something else.
Caleb frowned to cover his disappointment. This was the old Leanne sitting here in front of him now. Just a more mature version than the one he’d known before. As much as he didn’t want her to be, the signs were all there. “Want something to eat? Or drink?” he asked, trying to put it out of his mind the way she did.
“That hamburger we had after the interview was plenty for me, but I wouldn’t mind something to drink.”
“Wine? Coffee? Water?” Asked hospitably, even though he was ready for her to go. She weighed him down emotionally. Raised his hopes, let them down. And right now, he was too tired to fend for himself. Too tired to cope.
“Wine would be good,” she said.
“Red or white?” he asked, not wholeheartedly into the evening with her anymore.
* * *
“Surprise me with the wine.” Leanne watched Caleb get up and walk into the kitchen. Admired the look of him. Strong. Nicely muscled. He looked like her fantasy version of a cowboy, and she liked that. She liked Caleb, hot or cold. Was it because she had expectations of him that reached as far back as their childhoods? Or new expectations that had nothing to do with who they’d been then? Absolutely, she was attracted. Physically, emotionally, intellectually. Even when he turned cold on her, like he was doing now. It didn’t go away. In fact, it made her want to push on through and get to the other side. Because there was another side. With Caleb, there always had been. “Why weren’t we better friends back in school?” she called out to him, out of the blue.
Caleb dropped the wineglass he was holding into the sink, where it shattered into hundreds of clear shards. He looked down at the mess, blew out a frustrated breath, then reached for another wineglass. “I wasn’t in your league,” he called back, his voice as rigid as a taut trip wire.
Leanne blinked hard. “I’m not aware that I had a league.” She’d been popular, sure. Her dad had been the wealthiest man in town, which wasn’t saying a whole lot since the town was so small. And maybe she had let that go to her head a little. But being in any particular league? No, she didn’t understand that at all.
“You were the league,” he said, reappearing in the living room, holding two glasses of red wine.
She studied him for a moment. Yes, he was in his mood again, and she’d caused it, but she didn’t know how. “Which means?”
He crossed the room, handed her the stemmed glass, then returned to his chair across from her. Sitting rigidly. Ramrod straight. Unyielding. “Which means you had your group of friends, and you weren’t really interested in letting anybody else into it.”
“Aren’t all teenagers that way, though?” she asked him, still perplexed by the direction of this conversation. Not only was his body language angry now, so were his words. And his eyes…narrowed in such coldness it almost scared her.
“I wasn’t. But, then, I was always the outsider, looking in.” He took a sip of wine. “Had a good, long look from that vantage point.”
“Caleb, I know we grew apart, but we were kids. That happens.” Honestly, those days were so vague, she really didn’t dredge them up too often. Probably because she sorted her life into two categories: Marrell, and post-Marrell. Nothing about Marrell had ever registered very much with her, as she’d spent her entire time here looking for ways to get out. And anything that had had even the slightest potential of stopping her had gotten discarded.
Had she, somehow, perceived Caleb as having the potential to stop her? Was that why they’d grown apart? She didn’t know. Couldn’t dredge up a memory. Got all sweaty and nervous when she tried.
“Yep, happens,” he agreed, took another sip of wine.
“So maybe what you were interpreting as out of your league was more like two kids growing up and growing apart?” She knew that wasn’t the answer. Could tell from his body language. And it was frustrating because she knew she was missing something she should know. Something he should be telling her, but wasn’t.
“What I was interpreting was that you were high society and I was the boy who swept up the clinic floors. The one who got hauled off to the town lockup more times than I can count, who eventually ended up in the county jail, then a state juvenile detention center. You know, the boy who never could get the girl.”
Had she been the girl for him? She didn’t remember it that way. In fact, she only remembered being crushed when he’d turned away from her. “But a lot of girls go after the bad boys.”
“Except I wasn’t a bad boy, Leanne. I was a misguided boy, and a very confused one, and that’s a big difference. Bad boys want to be bad to make an impression. Misguided boys just want to fit in.”
“So, you’re describing yourself as confused back then?”
He took another sip of wine. “I’m describing myself as a boy who got warned, over and over, but stepped into it, anyway.”
“What, Caleb? What did you step into?” She wanted to know. No more hints and vague accusations. “If there’s something specific I’m missing…or missed back then, tell me. I have a right to know.”
“You missed me, Leanne. I was head over heels crazy about you, and you missed it. Or took advantage of it. I’m not sure which. But, however it was, I was too dumb to know what I was doing at the time, although I learned my lesson eventually, and it’s the lesson I’m going to teach Matthew. Because he’s different, the way I was, and I don’t ever want him to be the outsider who has to content himself with just looking in.”
He stopped, shook his head, then forced a tight smile. One that made her uncomfortable. So, she forged ahead. “I guess I never knew it was that bad for you, and I’m sorry for that. Of course, all I was doing was trying to find a way out, so there may have been a lot of things I didn’t notice.”
“Yet, here you are, back again.”
“Same could be said of you, Caleb. You’re back, too,” she said, the annoyance in her voice obvious. He was accusing her of things she didn’t know, didn’t understand, and she had no way to fight back or defend herself. So, she wasn’t going to engage. What was the point, when she’d only be fighting a demon she couldn’t even see? Instead, she forced herself to relax. Take a deep breath. Refocus. “And that seems to be working out.”
“Because I’m back for Matthew. Not for me. I didn’t have a choice because I wanted to be a better dad to him.”
She took a sip of her own wine, then shook her head.
“Like I had to come back to help my dad. I never realized how alike we are. Both of us taking care of the greater obligations in our lives.”
“And there you are, changing the subject, like what was between us never existed.”
“There wasn’t anything between us, Caleb.” The annoyance was bubbling up. Again. “You might have been crazy about me, but I wasn’t about to let anything or anybody stand in my way, and I took care not to get involved. So much so, I didn’t even know you wanted to become a doctor.”
“I think everybody in Marrell who ever cared about me knew I wanted to be a doctor.”
And she hadn’t. Two kids from the same small town, former best friends with the same goal, and she’d had no idea. But had Caleb, back then, been much like he was now—always keeping to himself, always trying to push people away? Was that why they hadn’t struck up the friendship she’d believed they could have had, and maybe even should have had? What had she missed out on? Suddenly, Leanne was overwhelmed by the feeling that by excluding Caleb, as he said she’d done, she’d missed out on so much. “If I was too focused on myself to pay attention to you, I really am sorry. But I was struggling, Caleb.”
“We were all struggling, Leanne. You, me… God only knows who else. Only no one else took it out on people the way you did.”
There it was again. The hint of an accusation. Why was he doing this to her? “What did I do to you, Caleb?” It must have been something so significant to Caleb he’d never let it go, even after all these years. For her, she didn’t even remember it. How could that be? She didn’t want to deal with it now. Maybe later, but not now, not when she was so frustrated. So, maybe running away wasn’t such a bad thing after all, because that’s what she wanted to do right now. Run away from something she didn’t understand, or couldn’t see from his perspective.
“Look, I don’t want to do this now. OK? I just want to go home.” She gulped down the last of her wine and stood. “Tell Matthew I enjoyed the day, and thank him for asking me along.” It had been Matthew’s idea. Not Caleb’s. Which was a little disappointing. “Also, tell him that if you’re not busy Sunday afternoon, I have an awesome new photo editing program, and he’s welcome to come over and use it.” She looked up at Caleb, and wished…well, she didn’t know what she wished. But it wasn’t this distance between them. “You’re welcome to come along, too. I might even be persuaded to cook.”
As she brushed by Caleb on her way to the front door she stopped, looked up, and for some unknown reason stood on tiptoe and brushed a gentle kiss to his lips. Twice in one day. It stunned her that she’d done that the first time, and stunned her yet again that she’d gone in for a second one. Especially since the evening had turned so tense. But it felt right. Even though he was totally not sending out signals of any kind, it still felt right to her. Almost natural, and she didn’t regret it, because sometimes being impulsive led to things a person could never anticipate. With Caleb, she wasn’t sure what that could be. But in spite of herself and, more to the point, in spite of him, she liked him. And now he knew it. “It really was a lovely day, Caleb. Thank you for including me. And for what it’s worth—whatever it is we’ve got rocking back and forth between us, I want to be your friend. We’ve just got to figure out how, I think.”
“Sunday,” he said, his voice unusually calm. Almost subdued. Then suddenly he pulled her into him roughly and kissed her back, but not in the light way she’d kissed him. More like the way a hungry man kissed a woman he wanted. Craved. Desired.
And as his mouth opened to her, and she felt his tongue delve inside hers, she melted into him, into a kiss she’d never had before. Never come close to having. Never wanted to end. For that one moment, everything seemed simple. He was a man, she was a woman, both finally on the same journey. Yet when she dared brave a look up at him, she saw that he was looking her, his expression intense, almost threatening.
Was he still angry? Was it because of the way he responded to her now? She could definitely feel his hard response pressing at her. She wondered, but before she could ponder it further, he yanked her even harder to him and pressed her mouth even more, probed even deeper. Moaned.
She responded immediately, surprising herself. Wanting more of him. Snaking her hands around his neck to hold him there. His mouth was so warm, the press of his lips insistent. And she was so eager for anything, everything, preparing herself for it, wanting it so badly. But as the realization of what she was doing was sweeping over her, his kiss lightened, turned into a whisper, then disappeared. Then he stepped back. Cleared his throat, ran his hand through his hair. And looked…stunned. Not angry. Just stunned.
“Well, that was—” he started.
“Unexpected,” she finished, wishing she had something to fan herself with.
“I was going to say nice. But unexpected works.” He took another step backward, then smiled awkwardly. “Anyway…”
“Yes, anyway…” Talk about the need to diffuse an uncomfortable moment. But for the life of her, she couldn’t think of a graceful way out of it. So, she simply took a few steps backward herself, turned to the door and opened it. Then left. Quickly. Confused. No words. Practically running down his front steps. Not stopping. Not even looking back. But she did hear the click of the door shutting behind her and wondered, for an instant, if he was watching her out the sidelight. Hoped he was. Hoped he took that kiss to bed with him and it kept him awake for a while, because it would surely keep her awake.
Yep, she liked Caleb despite himself. Couldn’t explain why, didn’t really want to. And if she decided to stay in Marrell for a while longer, she wondered how far she would let that fondness for him go. Wondered how far he would let it go before he stopped it. Because she had an idea that he didn’t let anything personal in his life go on for too long before he put an end to it. Pity, as she had a hunch that, deep down, he had a lot to offer. Of course, she wasn’t going to stay around long enough, or get herself that entangled, to find out what.