Amy hadn’t meant to be enchanted by Todd’s family. She had never intended to stay beyond the first hello. But now she stood in the middle of the party, surrounded by three men who were as charming as they were good-looking. Todd’s brothers seemed to be trying to outdo one another in claiming her attention. They asked her about her inventions and regaled her with funny stories of their childhood escapades. She laughed so much she completely forgot she was suffering from a broken heart.
Todd beamed at them from across the room. “There’s nothing like having reinforcements,” he said as Justin passed by with an open bottle of champagne.
“I’ve discovered that cupid often needs assistance, sir,” Justin said.
“Right. But don’t you and Aunt Syl get any more ideas. I still haven’t forgiven you for the rope and pulley trick.”
“All’s well that ends well,” Justin said.
Todd laughed. “It hasn’t ended yet. Serve the champagne, Shakespeare.”
As Justin moved away, Todd’s attention returned to Amy. She was so interested in the pictures Jeff was showing that she automatically lifted her glass for a refill when Justin paused beside her. Todd smiled at her animated face. He knew what the pictures were. He figured he’d seen them no less than a hundred times. Jeff was the Cunningham family’s proud papa. His brothers teased him about carrying so many family photographs in his pockets. They often said he would soon have to take a wheelbarrow around to haul his pictures.
He was also the reason Todd had left Baltimore and moved to Sunday Cove. When Jeff’s engineering firm relocated him and his wife Bonnie and their brood, Todd had missed his brother so much he’d followed him to the Mississippi Gulf Coast.
Of course, that was only half the story. The other half was that he’d been dumped by his fiancée of six years, he needed a change and Jeff portrayed Sunday Cove as a semi-tropical paradise.
Todd eased closer as Bonnie, a vivacious blonde, joined the group. He was irresistibly drawn to Amy’s glowing face as she talked about the family pictures.
“Such beautiful children!” he heard her exclaim.
“I won’t argue with you,” Jeff said. “My four kids have to be the smartest, handsomest kids in Sunday Cove.”
Bonnie took Jeff’s arm and gave him an adoring smile. “Listen to the proud papa talk.” Turning to Amy, she said, “You have to take what he says with a grain of salt. He’s prejudiced.”
Amy scanned the photographs again. There were three boys and one girl, ranging from age twelve all the way down to three. The oldest boy, Ricky, had flaming red hair, but the three other children were dark-haired, blue-eyed replicas of Jeff.
“Ricky’s hair is gorgeous,” Amy said. “It reminds me of a sunset.”
“He has his father’s hair,” Bonnie said.
Startled, Amy looked at Jeff’s dark curls.
“My first husband,” Bonnie explained. “He was killed when Ricky was three. Ricky also inherited his freckles.”
“But he has his dad’s sparkling personality,” Jeff said.
Bonnie laughed and pinched his cheek. “And his big ego.”
Amy glanced in confusion from one to the other. How could all this love and laughter have come out of tragedy? What had given Bonnie the courage to risk loving again?
Todd walked quietly up behind her and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “It’s remarkable what marriage can do to a man,” he said. “You should have seen Jeff in his bachelor days. He had the name of every woman in Baltimore in his little black book. Mike and Wayne and I thought he would never tie the knot.”
“And now we’re thinking the same thing about you, Todd,” Mike added.
“Doggoned right,” Wayne said. “Isn’t that a gray hair I see near your temple?”
Jeff punched Todd’s arm. “You ought to try it, old man. There’s nothing like finding your only pair of clean socks being used to plug up a hole in the magazine basket.”
“Are you complaining?” Bonnie asked.
“Who me?” Jeff was the picture of innocence. “You know I prefer to wear my shoes without socks. It adds a little pizzazz to my life.”
Bonnie turned to Amy. “He gets like this when he’s hungry. Let me feed him before he really says something crazy.” The two of them walked toward the buffet, smiling at each other as if they had a million private jokes.
“Food. That’s a great idea,” Wayne said. “Follow that couple, Mike.” They left Amy and Todd alone.
Todd squeezed Amy’s shoulders. “What do you think of my brothers?”
“I think your brothers are terrific. And so is Bonnie.”
“They have great ideas too.”
“Todd, don’t start.”
“All right. I promise to be good.” He leaned down and nuzzled her neck.
“You call that being good?”
“Yes. I didn’t promise to be a saint. Only a saint could be around you and resist touching you.”
She knew she should pull away, but she couldn’t. She blamed it on the champagne. She knew she should go, but she didn’t have the will. She blamed it on the party atmosphere.
“Nobody loves a saint,” she said.
“What about a judge?”
Her breath caught in her throat. “Some people find them tolerable.”
“Are inventors among that group?”
“I really couldn’t say.”
“Why not?”
“My head is filled with champagne bubbles. I can’t think straight.”
“Then I’ll do the thinking for both of us. Wait right here while I get you some food.”
“I have to go.”
“No, you don’t.” He maneuvered her into a chair and joined the group at the buffet.
A distinguished-looking gray-haired man approached Amy. Smiling, he sat in the chair beside her. “You must be Amy Logan.” He held out a slim hand. “I’m Randall Crane, an associate of Todd’s.”
Amy liked the man immediately. He had a frank and friendly manner that made talking with him easy. “Yes, I’m Amy Logan. How did you know?”
“Todd has described you perfectly. Besides, you have a certain notoriety around the courthouse since your last appearance with Mrs. Hildenbrand.”
Amy laughed. “That was the highlight of my disturbing-the-peace career.”
A tall woman with burnished silver hair joined them. She crossed her slim legs as she sat beside them. “I see Randall has found you. He’s been dying to meet you ever since you brought your robot into Todd’s courtroom. He says nothing like that ever happens in his courtroom.” When she smiled, a fine network of lines radiated from her hazel eyes. “Hi. I’m Joyce, Randall’s better half.”
“A statement I’ll not dispute, my dear.” Randall smiled fondly at his wife.
Amy was so enthralled with the lovely couple that she didn’t even notice Todd until she felt his hand on her shoulder. Even though he was standing behind her, she would have known his hand if a dozen others had been touching her. It felt solid and warm. It felt like a promise.
Joyce smiled up at Todd. “You must bring Amy to visit us, Todd. I want to hear all about her inventions and her famous aunt. And I especially want to know how she got up enough courage to make a shambles out of the orderly Judge Cunningham’s courtroom. Nobody’s ever done that before.”
“I wouldn’t call it a shambles,” Todd said.
“Oh, dear,” Amy said. “Did I ruin his reputation?”
“On the contrary,” Randall assured her. “You added a little spice to his image. Sometimes we judges are considered to be colorless old relics hiding in our dusty robes.”
Joyce patted her husband’s cheek. “You’re far from colorless, dear.” Turning to Amy, she said, “Remind me to tell you about the time he stuck a toothpick in his cigar so he could mesmerize the jury with an ash that wouldn’t fall off.”
Amy laughed. “I’d love to hear about that.”
Joyce stood, pulling her husband up with her. “We’ve monopolized you long enough. I do believe Todd’s going to mutilate that poor snack plate he’s holding if we don’t leave you two alone.”
“She’s a wise and brilliant woman,” Todd said as he sat in Joyce’s vacated chair. “Have a shrimp.” He outlined Amy’s lips with a fingertip as he held the shrimp toward her.
“I really shouldn’t.” Considering that his finger had set her mouth on fire, it was a miracle she could speak. “I have to be going.”
But she didn’t go. She ate the shrimp ... and the liver pate and the cheese straws and the strawberries big enough to pass as apples. She drank the champagne and talked to the people. She learned that the man who lived next door to her always had a secret yen to own a robot, and she promised to demonstrate Herman for him. She made friends with her across-the-hall neighbor, the one who had charged her with disturbing the peace. She even charmed the old sourpuss who lived across from Todd, and who espoused the philosophy that the whole world was going to Hades in a hand basket.
And always, there was Todd. Whether he was beside her, touching her shoulder, leaning down to whisper into her ear, or was across the room from her, sending signals with his remarkable eyes, she was always aware of his presence.
She didn’t want the party to end. She wanted to shut out the real world and live forever in the security and gaiety of Todd’s apartment. She wanted to bottle the laughter and the joy. She wanted to keep the bright lights and the music going, the champagne flowing. But most of all, she wanted to hold Todd at her side forever.
Amy stayed until all the guests were gone. She was slightly tipsy on champagne and totally drunk on love. But she wouldn’t have admitted it if grizzly bears had been threatening her.
Todd was across the room, showing the last guest out. She smiled crookedly at him and tried to think how she might get upstairs without falling victim to his charm. Her legs went weak as he came toward her. All he needed to do was crook his finger and she would go flying into his arms. She would love him one more time, and then she would get on with the painful business of putting him out of her life.
He didn’t crook his finger. He knelt beside her chair and took her hand. “Thank you for staying, Amy.”
She resisted the urge to reach out and touch his hair. “I’m a weak character. I took the easy way out. Going would have taken more courage than staying.”
“You’re not weak; you’re strong.”
“Not like Bonnie.”
“No. Not like Bonnie. Each person is different, Amy. Everybody handles tragedy in his own way. Some, like Bonnie, reach out to others while some have to go through the healing process alone.”
Amy squeezed his hand. Even if she couldn’t marry Todd, she thought he was probably the best friend she would ever have. “When I put away the paintings, I thought the healing was complete.”
“It was so far as Tim is concerned, but you’ve lost more than a husband. I think you never came to terms with losing your parents.”
“I did. I had Aunt Syl. I had a happy childhood.”
“I don’t dispute that. Your dream gave me the clue, though. I think you’re afraid to risk loving and losing again.”
“Then why are you bothering with me? Why don’t you find somebody who isn’t afraid?”
“Because I intend to break through that barrier you’ve put up. I intend to confront your old dragon, fear, and slay it.”
“I never knew judges were dragon slayers.”
“Judges are many things, including gallant knights.” He lifted her from her chair. “And to show you how gallant I am, I’m taking you back to your apartment instead of into my bedroom where you belong.”
Her knees went weak at the thought of his bedroom. She knew how the room would look in the moonlight. She knew exactly how the sheets would feel. She knew precisely how Todd’s head would look on the pillow next to hers.
She gave him an enigmatic smile. “Is that gallantry or fear? Perhaps you’re afraid I’ll say no again.”
He was delighted with her comeback. “Perhaps I am. Why don’t you do a little dragon slaying of your own?”
“Not tonight. I’m fresh out of dragon bait.”
Todd didn’t know how he managed to get her out of his apartment without giving in to temptation. All he knew was that he was finally standing outside her door and he couldn’t let her go.
“Something to keep the dragons away,” he said, and then he leaned in for a long, searching kiss.
When it seemed they might stay locked together in the darkened hallway forever, she said, “I like the way you chase dragons, Judge.”
“If they bother you tonight, give me a call. You should see my technique for putting them to rout in a bedroom.”
“I already have. Good night, Todd.”
“Goodnight, Amy.”
He stood in the empty hallway for a full two minutes after she’d disappeared inside. His breathing was ragged and his heart was pumping full blast. As he looked at her closed door, he vowed that he would tear down her walls of fear, even if it took the rest of his life.
Inside her apartment, Amy leaned against her door. If she had been confused Sunday, she was thoroughly bewildered now. How could she resolve to forget Todd, then go so willingly into his arms? How could she vow to put him out of her life forever, then kiss him as if she would never let go?
She was tempted to open the door and invite him in. She was tempted to let him examine her dragons, label them and slay them, one by one. Could he? Or was that something she had to do herself?
At last she heard his footsteps in the hall. The moment for exploring fears had passed. It was just as well, she decided. After swinging from her window by a rope and drinking two glasses of champagne, she was in no condition to slay mice, let alone dragons.
o0o
Amy slept late on Wednesday. When she awoke, Aunt Syl was in the kitchen surrounded by pots and pans.
“Good morning, dear,” Aunt Syl said cheerfully. “I’m cooking breakfast. Pancakes.”
“You’re cooking?”
“It’s a peace offering. To make up for the rope and pulley.”
“Nothing can make up for that trick, Aunt Syl.”
Amy’s smile spoiled the intended effect of her words.
Aunt Syl didn’t miss a thing. Not the smile or the softening of the face or the sparkling eyes. “I can see how upset you are. How was the party?”
“Fine.”
“There’s a thesaurus on my desk, Amy. Run in there and see if you can’t come up with something more descriptive. Fabulous. Extraordinary. Fantastic. Mind-boggling. Londerful.”
“Londerful?”
“A combination of love and wonderful.”
Amy poured herself a cup of tea and sat at the table. “Now, Aunt Syl, just because I was forced to attend that party, don’t think I’ve changed my mind about anything else.”
“Did I say anything?”
“No. But I know what you were thinking.”
“When did you take up mind reading?”
“About the same time you took up matchmaking. “
Aunt Syl laughed. “I enjoyed it. I may give up mystery writing and go into matchmaking full time. Sort of like Dolly Levi. What do you think, Amy?”
“I don’t think Broadway is ready for you.”
Aunt Syl turned back to her cooking. “Balderdash!” she said as she looked into her mixing bowl. “Have you ever seen pancake batter that turned purple and bubbled?”
Amy walked over to the counter and peered over Aunt Syl’s shoulder. The purple pancake batter was bubbling happily in the bowl. “What did you put in it?”
“You know those wonderful blueberry pancakes on the waterfront?” Amy nodded. “Well,” Aunt Syl continued, “I didn’t have blueberries so I put in grapes.”
“Is that all?”
“Well, let me see now ...” Aunt Syl scanned the littered countertops. “There’s flour and eggs and sugar and a pinch of soda ... maybe more than a pinch.” Her face brightened. “Oh, yes, I added a little wine for good measure.”
Amy picked up the empty bottle. “A little wine?”
“Maybe more than a little ... enough to taste.”
Amy laughed. “I think I’ll have cereal this morning.” As she got the milk from the refrigerator, she said over her shoulder, “Remind me not to let you make my wedding cake.”
She didn’t notice her slip of the tongue, but Aunt Syl did. Smiling brightly, she dipped a spoon Into the pancake batter and lifted it to her lips. “Ummm. Not bad, even if I do say so myself.”
Amy smiled about the purple pancake batter all day. At least she told herself that was why she was smiling. She felt so good she almost finished her perpetual popcorn popper.
Todd called that night.
“Seen any dragons lately, love?” he asked.
“Only Aunt Syl’s purple pancake batter.” She told him the story of their would-be breakfast.
Todd laughed, and they talked of inconsequential things—the weather, the movies, the next outdoor concert. They skirted around the real issues of love already declared and marriage denied and fears not faced.
After they hung, up, Amy was vaguely dissatisfied. She prowled around the apartment, selected and rejected three books, and finally ended up leaning on the windowsill looking out across the darkened Gulf. The fragrance coming from her multicolored petunias reminded her of orange blossoms.
Surely the so-called legend was nothing more than myth.
“Do you smell something, Aunt Syl?” she asked, hoping the answer would be no.
“Of course, dear. It’s orange blossoms.”
“It can’t be. These are petunias.”
“I don’t care if they are kittens on a stem. They still smell like orange blossoms.” Aunt Syl smiled at her. “True love is afoot.”
“Is that a line from your book?”
“No, but it ought to be. Maybe I’ll add it to chapter fourteen.”
Amy lowered her face to the petunia blossoms, determined to prove the legend false. But the scent of orange blossoms as so strong it was still with her when she went to bed.
That night she dreamed of reaching for Todd through the fog. She could almost feel the damp chill on her face as she stretched her hand through the cotton-wool blur that obscured him. Suddenly her hand closed around something solid. Todd’s hand. She caught it and held on. In her dream she clung to him. Although his face was lost in the fog, his hand was always there.
o0o
Thursday evening Todd sent roses and an invitation to dinner. Amy declined.
When Justin returned with her note, Todd questioned him,
“How did she look, Justin? Was she cheerful? Was she rested?”
Justin laughed. “A body would think you hadn’t seen her in three years. Why don’t you go upstairs and see for yourself?”
“I’ll wait. She’ll call to thank me for the flowers.”
He prowled his immaculate apartment, waiting for the phone to ring. He put a jazz tape on and flipped through the latest issue of U.S. News and World Report. From time to time he glanced toward the phone, but it remained silent.
He threw the magazine aside and stared out the window. How long would it take Amy to realize that life was full of risks? How long would it take her to see that some things were worth the risk? Maybe giving her so much time was a mistake. Maybe she was using the time to put him out of her mind rather than to resolve her fears. Maybe he should give fate another little push.
He reached for the phone, then withdrew his hand. What did he think he could do? Carry her to the altar kicking and screaming? There were some things Amy had to decide for herself.
He stalked into his pristine kitchen and poured himself a tall glass of lemonade. It was cool and slightly tart, with pulp from real lemons floating in the glass. But it was not refreshing. Todd sat glumly at his spotless table and decided nothing would ever refresh him again.
Taking his glass, he walked through his apartment, hoping to feel that familiar surge of pleasure the orderliness of his home always gave him. Instead, he imagined a bawdy-tongued parrot swinging from a chandelier and a woman with a China doll face standing in the midst of a cluttered workroom.
He slammed his glass so hard against a marble-topped table, the ice rattled.
“She could have at least called about the roses.”
When the phone rang, he nearly knocked over a chair getting to it. It turned out to be his brother Jeff.
“It’s you,” Todd said.
“What do you mean, it’s me? Were you expecting somebody else? Amy, maybe?” Jeff’s voice dripped good cheer, and, as usual, he got right to the point.
“Why would I be expecting Amy to call?” Todd asked testily. “She made her policy of no commitments perfectly clear in the beginning. Anybody would need to have his head examined for sending flowers to press a hopeless case.”
“Uh-oh. The woman’s playing hard to get.”
“She’s not playing. She’s running scared and I’m getting ridiculous for being a sentimental fool.” Todd scowled at his glass; it was sweating a puddle on his immaculate table. “My life was perfectly satisfactory before she came here. I don’t know why I would want somebody like her anyway.”
“Like what?”
“She doesn’t know the meaning of order. Her apartment looks like she’s getting ready for a rummage sale, and she never has anything in her refrigerator except wilted lettuce.”
“That’s just what you need, brother. Somebody to put a little zip in your life.”
“If I want zip, I’ll have Justin add Tabasco to my tomato juice.”
After he had hung up, Todd hugged his righteous anger to himself, thinking the remark about Tabasco proved he could handle anything, even losing Amy.
o0o
After she had sent Justin away, Amy put her roses in water and spent the next fifteen minutes moving them around her apartment. She wanted them to be in exactly the right spot, so she could see them no matter where she was. She thought of dividing the bouquet and putting each rose in a bud vase, one in every corner of the apartment. But then she wouldn’t be able to pass by and smell the delicious fragrance of the whole bouquet. She finally put them beside her favorite chair.
She sat down, letting their sweet smell wash over her. From time to time she glanced at the phone. He would surely call, she thought. Hadn’t he vowed to break down her barriers? Hadn’t he promised to slay her dragons?
The silent phone mocked her. Maybe she should call him. Maybe she should let him know that she had found him in her fog dream. At least she should thank him for the roses. She reached for the phone, then withdrew her hand. Was the dream important? Did it mean she was willing to risk losing someone she loved again? Could she marry Todd and not be haunted by the fear that he would be taken from her?
She plucked a rose from the vase and held it to her face. Tomorrow would be soon enough to think about the future. She placed the rose on her pillow when she went to bed.
o0o
Late Friday afternoon Jeff stopped by to visit his brother.
“Bonnie and I thought we’d have the two of you over for dinner tomorrow night.” Jeff tried to make the invitation sound casual, as if he and his wife hadn’t been hatching an elaborate matchmaking scheme.
Todd didn’t have to ask who the other person was. Amy. Just thinking her name brought a hollow feeling to the pit of his stomach. Another whole day had gone by without hearing from her, and he felt as if the earth had been snatched from under his feet.
“Forget it. The lady’s surrounded herself by a wall of silence. What makes you think a dinner invitation will break it down?”
Jeff didn’t lose his good cheer. He plopped onto the sofa and stretched his long legs in front of him. “The rocky road to romance can sometime made you feel like you don’t know which end is up.”
“It’ll pass.”
“One thing you have to know about love, brother, is that you can’t sentence it like a criminal and expect it to disappear onto the top shelf of the closet.”
Todd’s grunt passed for laughter. “Your metaphors stink.”
“What do you expect from an engineer?” Jeff rose. “Dinner’s at eight.”
He was out the door before Todd could say he wouldn’t be there.
o0o
Amy was flabbergasted when Todd’s brother showed up at her apartment. She was even more aghast when he invited her to Saturday night dinner.
“Well, of course, I can’t go,” she said.
“Why not?”
“Because ...” She couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Don’t you eat?”
“Yes.”
“It’s settled then. Bonnie will pick you up at seven-thirty.”
He was gone before she could say no.
All day Saturday, Amy tried to put Todd out of her mind, but every time she looked at the roses she felt such weak-kneed desire, she had to sit down. “I really should throw them into the trash can,” she muttered on more than one occasion.
At least five times during the day she reached for the phone to call Bonnie and politely decline the dinner invitation. Visions of Todd always stopped her, though—the way he looked in the sailboat with the wind in his hair, the way his smile went crooked and dreamy when they made love, the way he squeezed her hand in response to her unspoken need.
By late afternoon she was exhausted from the effort of indecision and feelings of frustration. When the hands of the clock approached six, she showered and shampooed her hair. “I must be crazy,” she mumbled as she dried off.
Afterward she tried on and rejected three dresses. “Of course I’m not going,” she muttered. “I will not be manipulated this way.” She smoothed her slip over her slim hips and reached into her closet for a green silk dress. The full skirt billowed as she slipped it over her head. “This is another of Todd’s schemes to make me change my mind.” She struggled with the zipper as she talked. “If he thinks having dinner with his brother’s family will make me change my mind, he’s sadly mistaken.”
The green silk swirled around her legs as she paced the floor. What was she going to do? She should have called Jeff and Bonnie immediately to say she couldn’t come. What had stopped her? Was she so weak that she constantly let other people manipulate her, or was she so in love that she let her heart rule her head? She didn’t even want to think about that possibility. Nobody could be that much in love. She had to be practical. She had to remember that the pain of loving and losing was too great to risk again.
She glanced at the clock. Seven. Too late to call and cancel now. Bonnie would have made dinner preparations. Not going would be unthinkable. Amy sighed. What was she going to do about this dilemma?
She sat down at her dressing table and carefully applied her makeup. The only thing to do was make the best of a bad situation. Perhaps she could even use this opportunity to make it perfectly clear to Todd that she had no intention of changing her mind. At that thought, her loneliness almost overwhelmed her. She leaned her head on her hands and took a big, gulping breath. Why didn’t life come with guarantees?
Lifting her head, she finished her makeup, then walked carefully into the sitting room as if any unnecessary movement might shatter her resolve.
“Aunt Syl,” she called, “I’m going out to dinner.”
Aunt Syl emerged from her room, trailing a shocking pink feather boa and pushing at her topsy-turvy matching wig. “Wonderful, dear. With Todd, I hope. It’s time to quit this silly cat-and-mouse game.”
“This is not a game, Aunt Syl; it’s my life. Everybody seems to keep forgetting that.”
“I’ll admit to being brash and pushy about this romance. One of the perks of being my age is that you can do and say anything you like and nobody dares reprimand you for fear you’ll die and they’ll feel guilty.”
Amy chuckled. “Aunt Syl, you’re impossible.”
“But adorable, don’t you think?”
o0o
Bonnie and Jeff lived in a charming antebellum home that overlooked the Gulf. Huge cascades of summer flowers spilled over polished tabletops, and the delicious yeasty aroma of home-baked bread filled the air. Children’s laughter echoed down the stairway, and Jeff outdid himself in being gracious.
The cheerful, homey atmosphere caught Amy off guard. She found it impossible to remain cool and detached. By the time Todd arrived, she was engaged in a lively debate with Jeff about the impact of robots on industry.
When Todd entered the room, her sentence trailed into nothingness, and the subject of robots skittered completely out of her mind. He stood in the doorway, bronzed and handsome, filling her vision. He must have said something to Bonnie and Jeff, for his lips were moving, but Amy heard nothing except the symphony of her own heart.
He walked toward her, his lips curved into the merest suggestion of a smile, his eyes locked on hers. “Amy,” he said in that wonderful drums and cymbals voice. She wondered if her legs would continue to hold her up.
“Todd.” She hoped he wouldn’t try to touch her. If he touched her, she might make a fool of herself in front of his family. She might wrap herself in his arms and stay there forever.
Her sigh of relief was audible when he stopped inches away.
“How are you?” His question was polite, remote, as if they were nothing more than acquaintances.
“Fine,” she said aloud. Lonesome, she said to herself. Vulnerable. Scared. Uncertain.
They stood facing each other, both desperate to reach out and touch, both clinging to a fragile thread of self-control. The fragrance of orange blossoms drifted around them and the hall clock chimed eight.
Their forgotten hosts exchanged a significant look. “Why don’t we go into the dining room?” Jeff said. “Bonnie’s made her specialty.”
Todd shrugged his shoulders as if throwing off a magic spell and turned to his brother. “Corned beef?” he asked. He was grateful for this new topic of conversation—food. He was grateful for anything that kept him from forgetting that Amy was out of his reach, shut up behind her wall of fear.
“With cabbage and potatoes.” Jeff took Amy’s arm. “I have to watch my brother. If he didn’t have Justin, I’m afraid he’d take Bonnie away from me simply because of her cooking.”
“How did he get Justin?” Amy asked, but only half-listened as Jeff told her how Justin had answered Todd’s classified ad for a housekeeper. As they walked to the dining room she was vividly aware of Todd walking behind her, of his gaze on her. The back of her neck tingled. She felt breathless and flushed. This was no way to forget a man.
Conversation during dinner was strained. Amy and Todd went to elaborate lengths to avoid talking directly to each other, while Jeff and Bonnie made valiant efforts to bring them together. Over dessert Amy decided that it had been the longest meal in the history of eating.
Bonnie looked around the table and gave everybody a lovely smile. “Jeff is going to help me make coffee. Why don’t you show Amy the garden, Todd?”
“My pleasure,” he said.
Amy wanted to scream. Since when did it take two to make coffee? She looked down at her empty plate as if she found the cake crumbs fascinating.
Todd pulled back her chair and led her outside. The brick patio was softly lit by the moon and outdoor lanterns. An informal rose garden flanked its south side.
“Bonnie has thirty-five varieties of roses,” Todd said. “She started this rose garden right after she and Jeff moved here.” He ached to take Amy into his arms. He longed to kiss her until she forgot about death and pain and loss. But he wouldn’t barge across the barriers she had erected.
Amy walked away from him and knelt beside a bush that was ablaze with fiery red roses. She pressed her face into a flower and closed her eyes. Miraculously, it was not roses but the overwhelming fragrance of orange blossoms held her in its spell. She was so still she could almost hear the moon tracking across the sky.
After a while, Todd continued his spiel. “Bonnie knows more about aphids and black rose blight than anybody in Sunday Cove. She calls last summer the summer of the snail. Jeff says she spent more time out here battling the slimy things than she did with him.”
Abruptly, Amy stood up. “Thank you.” She almost reached for him, but she settled for a smile. It didn’t feel as good as touching him, but it felt safe.
“For what?” he asked.
“For being my best friend. For talking about roses and aphids instead of—” She hesitated, watching her lower lip between her teeth.
“Dragons?”
“Yes.”
“I want to. I want to make you put those fears aside. I want to force you to give your life a chance to happen.”
“You can’t. I’m the only person who can decide how to live my life.”
“I know that.” His blue gaze was so intense it seemed to burn right through her. “I’ve tried to be patient. I’ve even tried to be mad at you.” In one swift movement pulled her into his arms. “I must be going crazy.” He smoothed back her hair and cradled her as if she were both fragile and precious.
She leaned against him, loving his strength, reveling in his nearness, grateful for his self-control.
They held on to each other for a small eternity. The heady scent of a thousand roses swirled around them, overlaid with the swirling fragrance of orange blossoms, and the beams from the summer moon washed over them. It was a night made for romance.
To Bonnie and Jeff, peering out the window, Amy and Todd might have been the perfect lovers. But they were fooled by appearances. They couldn’t see the anguish of indecision, the turmoil of restraint. They couldn’t see the shadows of the past, the misgivings about the future. In their blindness they turned from the window and congratulated each other on the success of their matchmaking scheme.
And on the patio, the forlorn lovers drew apart.
“Give us a chance, Amy,” Todd said.
“I can’t.”
o0o
It had been three days since the dinner, and Todd still had not heard from her. He was bleary-eyed from lack of sleep, and his usual good nature had been replaced by a snappishness that tried even Justin’s patience.
He stomped down to the laundry room, taking a perverse satisfaction in the blistering heat. Why should he be comfortable? He was miserable on the inside; he might as well be miserable on the outside too.
He slung his clothes into the machines, not caring whether he mixed colors with whites, then sank into a chair and hunched over a legal tome. Sweat poured down the side of his face and dampened the front of his T-shirt. A mosquito buzzed around his head. He welcomed that annoyance, too.
He tried to concentrate, but the words on the page blurred. He slammed the book shut and paced the room. He had always been a man of action, a man for whom decisions came easy, but Amy had him on the horns of a dilemma. As much as he wanted to have her, he knew he couldn’t make her decisions for her. She had to come to terms with her past in her own way.
He sat back down and listened to the mechanical chugging of the machines.
o0o
Amy hadn’t been able to work for three days. She felt helpless and frustrated. Instead of using the dinner to put Todd completely out of her life, she had used it to store up memories of him. What was she going to do? She had thought she couldn’t risk loving and losing him, but she was beginning to think she couldn’t live without him. If only she could talk to her best friend. But that was impossible. Her best friend was Todd.
She smiled sadly. Friend and lover. Were they one and the same, or could they be separated? She had to talk to him. She reached for the phone, then drew back her hand. It wouldn’t be fair. She couldn’t ask him to be an objective friend in a matter that also involved his heart.
The stifling heat seemed to be closing in on her. She had to get out of the apartment. It felt like a prison.
“Aunt Syl,” she called. “I’m going out.”
“On your way back, stop by the laundry room and get the tea towels out of the dryer. I forgot them.”
“I will.”
“Thanks. Have fun, dear.”
The city of Sunday Cove was a heated blur. After only ten minutes of walking, Amy turned back to her apartment. Her thoughts were her jailer. They had followed her down the streets, relentless in their pursuit. Should she reach out to Todd? Should she embrace life, as Aunt Syl always said, or shut herself away? Wasn’t loneliness almost as painful as loss? Wasn’t it a kind of death?
Her footsteps quickened as she neared the apartment building. The hallway felt cool after the outside heat. She started toward the stairs, then remembered Aunt Syl’s laundry. She changed her direction and took the back stairs down to the basement. As she neared it she could hear the clanging of the ancient, overworked machines.
The steam coming from the laundry room assaulted her face, and the man bending over the machines assaulted her heart. “Todd.”
He turned around, holding a soggy pink undershirt in his hand. Grinning, he said, “I put my whites in with Grandpa Tuck’s red union suit.”
Happy memories flooded over her. The early morning sunrise with Todd at her side, the kisses on the sandy beach. She laughed aloud. “Oh, Todd. The union suit.” She crossed the room and took the pink T-shirt from him. “What am I going to do about you?” she asked softly.
“Marry me.”
“I don’t know. You almost persuade me.” She held the wet T-shirt in front of her like a barrier, but this time Todd crossed over.
He bent swiftly, capturing her lips in a kiss edged with desperation. It confirmed what Amy was almost ready to admit: Life without Todd was no life at all.
“Come with me, Amy,” he murmured into her ear. “Be my love.”
She buried her face against his chest. “Not yet. Oh, please, not yet. This is too important. I have to be very sure.”
His hands caressed her back. “I know, love. I know. But don’t be surprised if Justin kicks me out of the apartment while you’re making up your mind.”
“Out of your own apartment?”
“He’s possessive about his work. He doesn’t like bedroom slippers in the refrigerator and water rings on the coffee table.”
She pulled out of his arms. “I’m afraid we’re wet.” She held up the T-shirt that had been scrunched between them. The fronts of both their shirts were damp and slightly pink.
“Amy, a man can stand only so much temptation.”
Her laugh was shaky. “I’m going.”
He caught her hand. “If I don’t hear from you soon, I’m liable to come break your door down.”
“That would be disturbing the peace.”
“That’s all right. I know the judge.”
She left before things got completely out of hand.
That night she lay in her bed thinking about her choices. She could continue to refuse Todd. She could live a careful life, making no commitments, taking no risks. She’d have her robot and Aunt Syl. And she would be lonely. Or she could reach out to Todd. She could have love and laughter and joy. She could have a rich and full life. But she would have no guarantees. Todd couldn’t make those guarantees. Nobody could. Was she willing to take the risk?
The fog dream returned, but something was different. A bright shaft of sunlight burned the mists away, and she could see Todd clearly. She reached out her hand and he was there. Not just his hand, but all of him. In her dream she looked up into his face and smiled. It was a smile of affirmation.
The next day Amy was positively inspired. She whistled as she worked. If she kept up this pace, her perpetual popcorn popper would be finished by nightfall.
As she worked she thought of Todd. She thought of his wacky sense of humor, of the washtub boat and the union suit flag. She thought of his keen appreciation of nature, of the beauty of the sunset on the Gulf and the glory of the sunrise. She remembered his warmth, his way of touching her at unexpected times. And she knew without any shadow of doubt that she would risk anything— even the pain of loss—to be with him. Not just for a day or a week or a year, but as long as their forever lasted.
“Aunt Syl,” she called. “Stir up some purple pancake batter. Get out your bazookas and tin drums. Put on your party wig.”
Aunt Syl left her typewriter and fairly flew into the room. “What’s all the excitement?”
“There’s going to be a wedding.”
“Hooray and hallelujah.” She grabbed Amy and twirled around the room. There was so much laughter and excitement, Hortense took refuge on the chandelier.
Suddenly Aunt Syl stopped dancing. “Does Todd know?”
“No. I haven’t told him yet.”
“My dear, don’t you think he should know?”
“Yes. He should be back from court soon. I’ll call him.”
“Oh, my, no. That will never do.”
“Why not?”
“Too unromantic. We must think of a plan,” Aunt Syl said.
o0o
As Amy leaned out the window and watched for Todd, she began to have doubts about the plan. She really wouldn’t blame Todd if he ran like a scared rabbit. She didn’t know how she had let herself be talked into this. Aunt Syl had wisely departed from the scene of the crime, saying she would take in a long movie. Even her argument— that if Todd was going to be a part of the family he had better get used to craziness—was beginning to lose its appeal. Maybe she would call him after all.
She wandered over to her perpetual popcorn popper and aimlessly flipped it on. She was proud of her latest invention.
“Look at this. Herman.” She ran across the room and turned him on. “How can you look if nobody turns you on?”
The robot circled the room, seeming to beam approvingly at the popcorn popper.
Smiling, Amy returned to the window. She stared down at the sidewalk until she began to feel dizzy. Where was Todd?
Suddenly she saw him coming down the street. He was walking with that familiar jaunty self-confidence she loved so much. She was entranced with watching him and almost forgot about her plan. He was directly beneath her window when she remembered.
“Look out below!” she yelled.
She had waited too long. Instead of falling at his feet, the withered rose landed on his head, its petals cascading down his face. The rose was from the bouquet he had sent, the bouquet she hadn’t been able to throw away even after all the petals had dried up.
He glanced up at the window. The nearly naked rose stem fell to the sidewalk. “I’m seeing angels today,” he said.
“Messenger angels. Pick up the rose.”
He knelt and opened the note attached to the flower stem. Marry me, it said.
His smile outdid the sun as he looked up again. “Amy?”
She nodded her head vigorously. “Yes.”
“Stay right there.” He ran around the building and burst through the front door, then bounded up the stairs two at a time.
Amy’s apartment door was unlocked. He pushed it open and walked into bedlam. Hortense swung from the chandelier, Herman whizzed around the room, and the latest invention had gone crazy. Popcorn was spewing into the air and blanketing the floor.
Todd didn’t notice a thing except Amy. He waded through the popcorn and took her into his arms.
“I love you, Amy Logan.”
“And I love you, Judge Todd Cunningham. Now and for always.”
He hugged her close and tipped her face up. “If you hadn’t sent that rose flying out your window today, I was going to storm your castle and take you by force tonight.”
“I thought of tossing the window box. Aunt Syl talked me out of that before she left for the movie.”
“I’m glad she did.”
“Of course, there was another consideration.”
“What’s that, love?”
“I didn’t want to crush the father of all my children.”
“All? That sounds ominous.”
“It is. I want at least six.”
“Then I have a wonderful suggestion.”
“What?”
“I suggest we get started.”
And they did. Right in the middle of the popcorn.