Capture the Wind for Me (26 page)

“Alison,” I whispered, “tell me nobody'll know who he is.”

Our school chums Nicole and Cherise attended our church, and I knew they'd be dying to meet the guy visiting from Greece. Fortunately, they hadn't appeared from the Sunday school room yet. They'd probably congregated with the other girls in the bathroom, fluffing their hair and chatting up a storm.

Alison shook her head, still watching Greg. “Don't know. Thing is, nobody would
expect
him to be here.”

“Hush, there's Derek.”

“So, what would
he
care? The way he walks around like with his head in the clouds?”

I still couldn't get used to Derek without his glasses, although nothing else about him had changed. He sauntered down the aisle in his long-legged way, head tilted and fingers brushing his thumbs. And Alison was right, he forever looked like the absent-minded professor.

Miss Connie introduced Derek to Greg. Now that was a difference in male specimen. They shook hands and spoke for a moment. Then Greg had to turn aside for others waiting to shake his hand. Poor fingers, already bruised. I wondered if they would feel worse after all the pressing.

I watched Grandma Delham greet Greg, introducing him to Grandpa. Ah, my perfect cue to join their group. I sidled toward Greg and his entourage at the back of the church, his voice wrapping around me like warm velvet. He glanced from Grandma to me and smiled, obviously anxious to be with me but too polite to pull away. If I didn't get to him soon, the service would begin, and we'd end up sitting apart. I maneuvered around an elderly couple—and found myself face-to-face with Derek.

“Hi, Jackie.” He smiled at me warmly.

“Hi,” I replied, distracted.

“Looks like you're on a mission.”

Was I that obvious? “Oh. I was just . . .” My hand waved vaguely in Greg's direction. Derek followed with his eyes until they landed on Greg. Understanding and disappointment rippled across his face.

“Well.” He jerked his head sideways. “See ya later.”

“Okay.” I wound past him to Greg, who raised his hand to take mine as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I felt a blush all the way to my toes as Grandma's eyes darted from that hand to me and back. In Bradleyville, couples our age didn't hold hands in church; it just wasn't done. I slipped my fingers into his for an awkward shake, then pulled away. He cast me a perplexed look, then slowly lowered his hand. Grandma Delham, bless her, made a point to turn away and make small talk with Mr. Matthews.

“Will you come sit with me?” I whispered.

“Of course.”

I leaned in as close as I dared. “You can't hold my hand here, okay? The old people would talk.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. I wondered how it would be if we were in Greece. Maybe in his own church, the old folks wouldn't care a bit. Greg would probably sit in church with his arm around me if I allowed it.

Wouldn't that just do it,
I thought. Not a person behind us would hear a word of the sermon. Not to mention Daddy would have my head.

As it happened, for the second Sunday in a row, I heard little of the sermon myself. I was far too busy just sitting next to Greg, feeling his presence, watching the way he rested his hands on his knees, hearing him sing the hymns.
Church will never be the same after this,
I thought, never, ever. Every movement of his fingers, every shifting of his position, pulled at me. I wished for all the world we were alone, and he could put his arms around me and kiss me. That we could sit in the car again after dark, hearing the crickets chirp and the creek tumble, and I could lay my head on his shoulder.

One other thing I remember so clearly about that church service. The unmistakable hurt on Derek's face when he glanced around and saw Greg and me together. Really, sitting next to Greg, it's amazing I noticed at all. But in order to see me, Derek had to purposely look over his shoulder. Our eyes caught for a second before he pulled his away, mouth flinching. At the time, I felt too caught up in Greg to think much about it. But now the memory pangs me, like bittersweet candy on the tongue.

After the service Greg found himself surrounded once again, this time by my friends, who practically salivated as they asked him a dozen questions about Greece. I caught their envious glances as I stood next to him, oh, yes, I did. I almost wished Millicent attended our church, just to show her I could attract someone like Greg. But then, they didn't know I had, did they? They probably thought he was with me merely because of Katherine.

Suddenly, I wanted them to know.
If only he'd reach for my hand now,
I thought. My friends would fall over dead, every one of them.

Alison and Jacob joined us, and I introduced them to Greg. Derek walked between two pews in an obvious detour to head for the door. He did not so much as glance at me.

Greg and I needed to get going. The sanctuary had nearly emptied. Both our families already stood outside, chatting in the parking lot. I peeked through the open doorway. Daddy appeared in deep conversation with Mr. Matthews, one hand on his chin. Celia talked with Katherine and Miss Jessie. The expression on Celia's face, the way her hand lay so familiarly on Miss Jessie's arm, spoke of a deep friendship.

“My aunt and uncle went to Greece one time,” Nicole was saying, then gabbed merrily along about how they'd raved over Athens, and did Greg ever go to the Acropolis, or was that just a tourist thing? And what did he do for hobbies, and what was school like, did he learn English there?

Before I lost my courage, I leaned into Greg's ear and whispered. “You can hold my hand now.”

The minute the words were out, I felt like an idiot. Greg would see right through me. What was he, my prize to show off to all my friends? I stepped back, casting about for some action to cover my embarrassment. Nicole's mouth never stopped running. I reached out to Cherise and fingered the stitching on her new purse. “This is nice.” She hardly heard me, her eyes on Greg.

He grinned good-naturedly at the rush of questions, his focus still politely on Nicole. Acting as if I'd not whispered a thing.

“Yes, we learn English in school,” he replied, “and another language like German or French or Italian.” He proceeded to answer Nicole's other questions, vaguely saying he liked music. And then without the slightest break in his words, he reached out and took my hand, as if we'd done it a million times. I watched my friends' eyes widen, including Alison's, their gazes dropping, then springing up again for fear they'd be caught staring. I hoped my throbbing heart wouldn't jump right out of my chest.

After a few minutes we really did have to leave. Greg wisely dropped my hand before we stepped outside. I told him I would ask Daddy about seeing him that afternoon. After apologizing to Daddy, I'd had no more time to talk to him before church, with the usual commotion of getting myself and the kids ready. Amazing that I'd faced the typical drudge of a Sunday morning, after my evening with Greg. The world should have been anything but typical. It should be shining in brilliant, panoramic color.

“Hope he says yes,” Greg told me with an enigmatic smile. “I know where we can go.”

chapter 29

S
o much for panoramic color. Katherine went home with us for lunch—our big meal of the day on Sundays—and reality soon came crashing around my shoulders. I still did not trust her one bit even though, after the previous night, I couldn't deny my gratitude that she'd put me and Greg together. Lunch proved a rather interesting venture. For self-serving reasons, I did my best to act glad of Katherine's presence. Couldn't afford to get Daddy upset with me again. Our family made sure to talk about anything and everything but Friday night, finally landing on the subject of Alma Sue. Who, by the way, still hadn't apologized for the soggy coloring book.

“I haven't seen her around here much,” I commented to Clarissa. Not that I was sorry.

“She's been sick with a cold.”

“Oh. How nice.”

“Jackie,” Daddy frowned as Katherine repressed a smile.

A canine nose stuck furtively around the dining room corner. “Winnie,” I said sharply, “we're still eating. Go lie down.” The nose disappeared. We could hear Winnie's sigh all the way from the hall as she cast her miserable, lonely self upon the floor.

Back to Alma Sue. “Well, I don't like her at all,” I said, “and one of these days I'm going to give her a piece of my mind. Since you won't,” I added with a meaningful glance at Clarissa.

“I don't want to give her a piece of my mind, and I don't want you to, either,” Clarissa retorted. “I just want her to be my friend.”

“Why? She doesn't treat you very nicely.”

“Because . . .” Clarissa chased peas around her plate. “Just because.” “Della's your friend, you could play with her.”

“I want to be friends with
everybody,
” Clarissa burst. “I just want everybody to like me!” Her eyes glistened.

Whoa. What was up with this?

“Clarissa,” Katherine soothed, “everybody does like you. Very much.”

My sister said no more, her attention focused on the last pea on her plate. Evidently, it was a very important pea. She and I would have to talk about this later. Clarissa's need for acceptance should not relegate her to a doormat for the likes of Alma Sue. I thought of Charlotte, how Greg had ever so politely put the haughty girl in her place. I doubted my emotions-on-the-sleeve sister would ever possess such subtlety. But for Alma Sue and all the oppressive people in Clarissa's future that she represented, a little lack of subtlety would be just fine with me.

“So.” Daddy hit the table with drumming fingers. “Jackie, how was your date?”

Wonderful. I got to discuss my first date with my entire family. “Good.”

Robert eyed me with interest, which surprised me. I didn't think he cared much about first dates. “Where did you go?” he asked.

“Clayton's Place.”

“Clayton's Place, my, my,” said Katherine. She and Daddy exchanged impressed glances.

“What's so great about it?” Robert wanted to know.

“It's expensive.” Katherine whispered in a conspiratorial tone. “The most expensive restaurant in Albertsville.”

“Greg's probably rich.” Clarissa seemed very pleased at the thought, as if somehow the money might trickle her way.

“I don't think he's all that rich yet,” Katherine told her. “His group's just getting started.”

“Well, then, he will be.”

“Why'd he take you to such an expensive place?” Robert asked.

I could have strangled him. Why was he so talkative all of a sudden? “Guess he just wanted to.”

“Whatdja have for dessert?” Clarissa, ever the sweet-minded.

“Um. Nothing.”

“Why not?”

“Because we . . . left before that.”

“Why?”

I turned on her, air puffing from my mouth with annoyance. “What is this, twenty questions? We left because we wanted to, that's all.”

Katherine and Daddy eyed me, clearly suspicious of the parts I'd left out. Fine, they could think what they wanted. I hardly cared to detail the wiles of stupid Charlotte to my entire family.

“Just so you had a good time.” Katherine shook her head the slightest bit to Daddy, as if to say,
Don't press her, this is girl stuff.

I felt grudgingly grateful for her tact, even as I told myself it was just one more way she worked to regain my trust. Which she didn't deserve.

Later, as we cleared the table, Daddy told me he wanted to take Katherine out for a drive. They'd had little time to be alone since Friday night, he added, and they needed to talk.

Translation: I had to stay with the kids.

“But I wanted to go out with Greg!” I set dirty plates on the counter. “We've only got today and tomorrow and then he's gone. You and Katherine have lots of time.”

Katherine entered the kitchen, dirty plates in each hand. Upon hearing the gist of the conversation, she laid the plates in the sink and left. “Clarissa,” I heard her call, “why don't you show me another game on your computer?”

Winnie shuffled underfoot, ears up, hoping for scraps. “Will you get out of the way,” I complained. “Come here.” I walked to the open sliding glass door and pulled back the screen. “Go outside.” Winnie withered me with a look—
how can you take your troubles out on your ever-faithful dog?—and slunk out.

“We've had very little time,” Daddy said quietly, not wanting his voice to travel.

“But she'll still be here after Greg—”

“Wait a minute, what exactly is happening here?” Daddy faced me, arms folding. “When we talked about this last week, we agreed you were just goin' to meet him, remember? Just get to know him a little? Now at lunch you're vague about your date, plus you're wanting to see this boy again today and apparently tomorrow.”

Here we go again.
I leaned against the counter, searching for words. Was this still just because Greg was Danny Cander's brother?

“We talked about this, Jackie,” Daddy said almost pleadingly. “About the fact that Greg would not be here long, that I didn't want you to put too much stock in his visit.”

Put too much stock in it? What was Greg, the bank? “Daddy, I just want to see him while I have the chance.”

“He's leaving, Jackie.”

“I know that, Daddy,” I cried, “that's just the problem!”

His shoulders drooped. He regarded the floor, mouth pulled in at the corners. “I knew this would happen,” he said half to himself. “I never should have let you meet him.”

Well, it was a little late now.

“You really like him, I suppose.”

The way he said it, as if I'd betrayed him somehow. As if this had anything to do with years ago, when he'd lost his first love to someone else.