Authors: Kate Vale
He nodded.
“Comfortable. Yes.”
“You remind me of the Cheshire Cat—that grin on your face.” Mike gave him a playful punch. “Anything or anyone in particular on your mind?”
“Nothing I want to share.”
“Well, f
eel free to stay
out here
as long as you want. Y
ou’re on vacation, you know.”
He nodded a
s
Mike
headed for
the back bedroom.
Marcus
look
ed
once more at the tree
, knowing it
soon
would be lit, its lower branches touching the mounds of presents to be opened in another day
.
Amanda
had taken
Cecelia
home to Minnesota for Chri
stmas. Was she enjoying herself,
or eager to get back to Shoreville, where she had promised to spend New Year’s Eve with him?
Cecelia regaled her grandmother with her soccer
games, the names of her new friends, and her teacher at the Campus School.Then she
told her about the statue of Shakespeare in Amanda’s department. “
Everyone rubs his
hat
for luck
. That’s why
it’s lighter than the rest of him. Beatrice told me it’s been there for ages and ages—older even than me
, Grandma
! Professor Hillier found
i
t and brought it home with him
from a trip to Europe.
That’s way across the ocean.
I rub it, too.”
“You don’t need any luck, dear. You’re already a great soccer player.”
“Oh, not for that. I rub it so maybe I’ll see Marcus when I have a game.”
“Who’
s Marcus?”
“He’s my friend.
Sam thought he was my dad.
Sam’s big sister,
Brittany
,
says he’s
hot
.
That means he’s handsome.
He
cheers when our team plays soccer. And,
guess what? H
is eyes are the same color as mine. What do you think about that?”
Her grandmother pursed her lips and her forehead wrinkled.
“That’s very nice, Cecelia.
”
H
er grandmother
turned to
look at
her mother
, who was
arranging presents under the tree. “Handsome, is he?”
Her mother’s
cheeks
turned
pink
.
“Is Marcus married, Cecelia?”
“No
, Grandma
.
But he likes the same books I do. We talk about them all the time
—
my
Marguerite Henry books. He knows about every
single
one of them.”
“Why in the world would a grown man be interested in children’s books?”
“Mother, he’s taught classes about literature for differen
t age groups
and how to write f
o
r them.”
“What else does he teach?”
Her grandmother
glanc
ed at her mother
again
.
“Newspaper writing, and other
journalism c
ourses. He’s working on
…
h
e’s writing a book about Ernie Pyle, the World War
II correspondent
.”
“I know who Ernie Pyle is.”
Her grand
mother sidled
back
over to her. “Well, Cecelia. We’ll have to talk more about all your friends where you are living now.
Why don’t you help me set the table for dinner?
”
Amanda
gazed at her daughter
as they flew
home
.
In the middle seat,
Cecelia was happily drawing in a picture book her grandmother had given her. Amanda looked out at the c
l
ou
ds that filled the sky below them.
Amazingly enough, the holiday with her mother hadn’t been so bad.
Except for a few times, her questions had focused more on what Cecelia was doing than on her.
Her thoughts turned again to
Marcus. Had he enjoyed his time in Omaha with his brother and his family?
Since Thanksgiving, t
heir dates
had
consumed
nearly every weekend. S
he relished their time together. She
was
certain she was
falling in love with him, but
a
part of her held back—unwilling to
fully
acknowledge it, fearful that if she did, something would happen to him and she would be lost in grief again. Only this time, it would be
so
much
worse—because Cecelia would
lose
a friend, too.
Early on,
Marcus had
made clear that he
wanted a physical relationship
with her
, though he hadn’t pushed it since
that dinner at the marina
. She wanted
it
,
too. After all, it
was the natural progression of things
these days, wasn’t it
?B
ut did she dare? Could he tell how attracted she was to him, how difficult it was becoming
for her
not to follow his lead
, what she yearned for
too? But t
he
same
‘
what if
’
messages assaulted her
, like warning signals at a railroad crossing,
whenever she contemplated going to bed with him.
Then there was Cecelia. Would she be able to tell if Marcus and she—if their relationship moved to that next level? Would her daughter be happy about it? Or confused? And how could she keep her mother from asking questions, too many questions, if Cecelia
hinted at what they were doing
?
S
he had promised to
go to the New Years’ Eve party
with Marcus
,
and had bought
a
special dress, one she knew he would like. She sighed and closed her eyes as the plane began to bounce a bit.
When she woke again, C
ecelia had snuggled next to her
,
asleep
with
one hand clutching Eeyore, the other still holding the new coloring book.
On the night of the New Years’ Eve party, Marcus
whistled under his breath
as
Amanda
came downstairs in a burgundy gown, a side slit cut from hem to
just
above her knee, her feet in black strappy heels. The bodice of her dress was cut low, her curves accentuated by her gown, and her silver necklace shone. Dangly earrings completed her ensemble.
Before they left the house
, she pinned a rosebud bouto
nniere to his suit. He show
ed off his new silver cufflinks.
“F
rom my nephews. They said I need to start acting like I’m goin
g to be a famous writer someday,
because of the Ernie Pyle manuscript.”
“Your nephews must be very proud of you.”
“That’s ’
cause I’m the only uncle they have. And they figure if they don’t butter me up, I won’t come through with Christmas or birthday presents.” He laughed. “They liked what I got them this year.”
“What was that?”
“Books, of course.”
“About?”
She reached up and
brushed a
lock of hair off his forehead.
“David got one
on
Frank Lloyd Wright. He wants to be an architect.He’s only seven and the narrative’s much too old for him, but he’s like Cecelia—reads way above grade level and his mom will read it to him until he can tackle it himself. Mostly, I got it
because of
the pictures
and the line drawings
. Dean wants t
o follow in his Dad’s footsteps,
to be a cop.
So
I got him a collection of books about cops, some by cops.”
“I’ll bet they were pleased.”
Once they reached the party, he took her coat and led her toward the bar. The party
was
billed as a faculty affair
but
spouses were sprinkled throughout the crowd.
“You know everyone, don’t you?” he asked as he placed a glass in her hand.
“Most everyone,” she replied.
“How was
your
Christmas?” Her necklace glinted in the light, teasing him to look for the birthmark just below the front
edge
of her
neckline
.
“It was okay. Cece enjoyed being home more than I did. She
had fun in
the snow
and seeing some of her old friends again
.
I
’m
glad I don’t have to shovel it or warm up the car so my feet don’t freeze
. And, she enjoys my mother—”
“But not as much as your mother enjoys her, I’ll bet.”
“I suppose.”
He placed their drink glasses on the table and reached for Amanda’s hand. “A slow
dance
,
what I’ve been waiting for.”
He steered her
toward the center of the dance floor. Two dances later, he maneuvered them closer to the open doors near one end of the large room. “It’s getting a bit warm in here. How about a quick escape onto the balcony?”
“Won’t it be cold out there?”
“I don’t think so, and if it is, we can go back in.” He had an overwhelming desire to kiss Amanda, but before he could put his plan into action, Eugenie Freeman interrupted.
She thrust her champagne flute at a passing waiter, cooed to Marcus, and grasped his arm, forcing him to turn away
from the balcony doors.
“Oh, you handsome man. Where have you been all evening? I was looking for you.”
“Eugenie, you
know
Amanda Gardn
er, don’t you,
from the English d
epartment?”
The buxom woman glanced briefly at Amanda. “No, I don’t believe I do.”
“Ah, but you were both at
Dean Morrill’s house last fall,
at the
meeting of
new faculty
. How are things in the music d
epartment?”
“Fine, just fine.”
“Excuse me
a minute
, Marcus.
”
Amanda eased away from him.
“Greg is asking for me.”
He nodded as
Eugenie grasped his hand
and pulled him in the other direction
.
“We must dance, Marcus
.
And the band just picked up the beat a bit with a rock number I dared them to play.Besides,
i
t’s much too cold to go out
side
.” B
efore he could object, she pulled him onto the dance floor and clutched him close to her ample bosom, her wide hips bumping and grinding to the music of a fast number.
But his eyes remained on Amanda
as
she moved away. A
nd a
s soon as he could
do so
, he extricated himself from Eugenie and headed in Amanda’s direction
.
She
was
near their table and
about to sit down when Carlton backed into her and almost fell.
S
he reached out to prevent the
wine
glasses from sliding to the floor
. Then
Carl
pulled her into his arms and onto the dance floor
.
As soon as it was appropriate to do so,
Marcus approached them.
“Time for me to cut in.”
He
took Amanda’s hand from Carlton’s. “Thanks, Carl.” He moved h
er quickly away from her office-
mate.
“Thank you for that. He must have been drinking the entire night,” she whispered in his ear. “
I felt like I had to hold him up.
How was
your dance w
ith
Eugenie?”
“She’s been stalking me since early fall quarter. I told her you and I are going steady, but she won’t back off.
I may
have to marry Cecelia sooner than we planned so Eugenie will leave me alone.” He winked at her.