by Leah Atwood
She closed out her email entirely and took a sip of tea before returning to work and busying herself with research. The center had an immediate need for funds, particularly for the after-school programs. For the remainder of the afternoon, she searched through old records, many of which were boxed in a dusty closet, and she made a list of previous donors, both individuals and corporations. She also examined multiple grant programs for which she could apply.
At five o’clock she shut down her computer and packed several files in her briefcase for review later that night. She flipped the light switch and locked her office, before walking to the gymnasium.
Wes Applegate, the man in charge of the summer and after-school rec program, jogged down the court, dribbling a basketball. A few teens ran behind him, chasing him on the court. The smiles on their face were all the motivation Maisy needed to procure the necessary funds. These kids needed this safe place in their lives. Wes raised his arms and shot the ball into the basket. It swished as it passed through the net, never touching the rim before bouncing on the floor and landing at her feet. Everyone’s attention turned to her.
“Afternoon, Ms. Rothchild.” The middle-aged man’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “I was just showing these young ones how that this old man still has skill.”
“Aww, we let you win, Mr. Applegate.” A boy she recognized as Toby puffed his chest. Though the youngest of the teens playing, he was usually the most vocal.
Maisy laughed. “I’m sure you did, Toby.”
“Was there anything I can do for you?” Wes took the towel from around his neck and wiped away the beads of sweat.
“No, I just dropped by to tell you I’m headed out for the day and to remind you about tomorrow’s meeting.” She purposefully didn’t say what the meeting was about. The boys didn’t need to know about the center’s financial problems. This was their place to escape and she would ensure it remained for years to come.
“I’ll be there.” Worry flickered over his eyes. “Nine sharp, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll see you then.” His smile reappeared. “Have a good evening, Ms. Rothchild.”
“You too, Wes.” She went to her car, clicked the button on her key fob to unlock her door, got in and left. Heavy traffic added an extra twenty minutes to her commute. Her gaze continually drifted to the small clock display. Dominic was coming over at seven, which wouldn’t be a problem, except she was a mess and needed to freshen up.
The location for tonight’s date, if it could be called a date, was a surprise. They still hadn’t discussed progressing their friendship, but she hadn’t missed the more frequent hugs and subtle touches to her face and arms ever since last week. Whatever they were, and wherever they were going, didn’t change the face she had to change before he arrived. She wasn’t going to spend their last evening before he left on tour in dusty work clothes.
Time seemed to be further against her when she pulled into her apartment complex. An exasperated groan drowned out the radio when she saw a car broken down at the gate, blocking all other entrants. Seventeen minutes later—yes, she monitored the clock that closely—a group of men successfully pushed the navy blue sedan aside. The four vehicles ahead of her passed through the gate, and then she went.
The parking lot was empty compared to what it normally was at this time of day, and she found a spot near her building entrance. She grabbed her purse and briefcase, leaped from her car, then ran up the stairs. Once inside, she dropped her bags on the wrought iron and glass console table by the door and darted into her bedroom.
She rummaged through her closet, searching for the perfect outfit. Tonight’s outing was different since it was their last evening together before Dominic left for his first tour. The way her heart tightened when she even thought about him leaving, she didn’t want to think about how she’d feel tomorrow.
If she was honest, she was terrified. So much could happen in six weeks. The previous ones were proof of that—in a similar time span, she’d lost her job, moved, her father had been arrested, she’d found a new job, and forged a new friendship with Dominic. When the fear became too much, she clung to her newfound faith, but it was difficult.
Dominic would soon have women fawning all over him if he didn’t already. He didn’t that she knew of, but that didn’t mean anything since she wasn’t with him all the time. There’d be women more worthy of his attention, women, that hadn’t abandoned him. Would he realize he could do better than her? And if he wanted to date someone, what was there to stop him? They were friends. They had no commitment.
Stop it, Macilynne Alice Rothchild. You are forgiven by God and Dominic. You are worthy. Your relationship with Dominic is in the hands of God.
Life was simpler without love in the equation. Of course, she’d loved Dominic for so long that she couldn’t imagine a world in which she didn’t. She’d have to be content for the moment and hold the faith. No matter what happened, she wasn’t alone anymore, not in the way she’d felt for much of her life, especially during the years she’d been estranged from Dominic. She knew God listened to and heard her prayers.
Armed with that confidence, renewed calm filled her, and she began to think with reason instead of emotion. She unequivocally didn’t have to worry about Dominic giving credence to female groupies. Beyond the fact it wasn’t his style, he had said that he wanted to start with friendship and see where that led. It wasn’t a formal commitment to each other, but enough so in Dominic’s mind that he wouldn’t seek out another woman unless he’d made clear to Maisy there was no future for them. She prayed that would never happen.
When it came down to it, she didn’t believe it would. She didn’t have to search deep down to know that Dominic and she had ‘forever’ written in their hearts, which made moot every single fear and insecurity that had attacked her today.
Continuing the search through her closet, she pushed aside a business suit, and smiled as she looked for tonight’s perfect outfit. Patience was all she needed, and life had seen to it that she learned that virtue from an early age.
She moved a hanger, and the shifting of clothes caused a dress to fall to the floor. Bending down, she picked it up and started to hang it up, but stopped when a cardstock tag attached to the dress scraped her. She brushed it away but took a long look at the dress. It had to be a sign. Of all the clothes that could have fallen, it was that one. Why she still had it, she couldn’t answer. She’d bought it four years ago, in anticipation of a weekend honeymoon with Dominic.
A honeymoon that had never happened.
Exuberant laughter gurgled in her throat. Her search for tonight’s outfit ended and she held the dress to her. If I even fit into it anymore. The dress was made of a lightweight cotton with some give to it, but she had gained ten pounds since then and her curves were more pronounced. Dominic didn’t seem to mind the extra baggage—she’d caught his admiring gaze on multiple occasions.
After exchanging her work clothes for the dress, she left the closet and viewed her reflection in the mirror hanging from the rear side of the bedroom door. Immediately, she remembered why she’d bought the dress. The sunshine yellow fabric brought out the gold flecks in her eyes and clung to her in all the right spots without being immodest or improper. It was a tad snug in areas it hadn’t been four years ago, but not uncomfortably so.
She returned to her closet and dug through three racks of shoes until she settled on a pair of white, strappy sandals with a flat heel—the safest bet when she didn’t know where they’d be going. One foot at a time, she slid on the sandals, then glided to the bathroom to apply makeup and style her hair.
In the course of a half hour, she’d gone from worried to giddy. Instead of thinking about Dominic leaving, she planned to make the best of tonight so she’d have those memories to cherish in the upcoming weeks.
The intercom rang while she had a large lock of hair gathered in her hand, about to secure it in a barrette. Still holding back a clump of her tresses, she went to
buzz in Dominic then hurried to finish her hair. It wasn’t her favorite hairstyle, but it was quick and flattered her oval-shaped face.
Dominic knocked at the door, and she let him in after a quick glance through the peephole. His eyes lacked the sparkle she’d expected, his greeting wavered with disappointment.
“What’s wrong?”
He shook his head, as though he hadn’t realized he’d allowed his emotions to show. “There’s a storm rolling in.”
“And that has you upset, why?” She squinted, confused.
“I had the perfect evening planned.” He leaned against the doorjamb. “I never bothered to consider the weather.”
“I guess our plans involved the outdoors?” Maybe I should rethink the dress.
“Entirely.” His jaw twitched.
Maisy knew him so well that she understood something so minor could trigger his feelings of inadequacy. For all he’d been through, Dominic was too hard on himself, too sensitive to perceived failure. No thanks to her, at that. She closed the distance between them, put her hands on his crossed arms. “We’ll have fun, whatever we do because we’re together. That’s what’s important.”
One side of his mouth curled. “Yeah.” He didn’t sound convinced.
“What did you plan?” She stepped backward. She’d find a way to turn the evening around, kick Dominic into happy mode again.
His lips formed to an ironic smile. “A picnic at the park and a walk across the bridge.”
“You remembered,” she whispered, pressing a palm to his chest.
“I promised you we would on our next date.” His voice was low and husky.
“That was four years ago.” Warm puddles of tear pooled at the corners of her eyes.
“We never got our chance, and I’m a man of my word.” His shoulder rose with a slight shrug.
“Are you saying tonight’s a date?” She felt his heart beating under her splayed fingers.
“Yes.”
A definite answer, so much more than she’d hoped for.
“Then where are my flowers?” Afraid she’d burst into jubilant tears, she resorted to humor and batted her lashes.
“Can you take a rain check?”
“No pun intended?”
“Ha.” He finally moved from the door. “I don’t have a plan B.”
She thought quickly as thunder rumbled in the distance. “Do you have everything with you that is needed for the picnic?”
He nodded. “It’s in the truck.”
“Go get it. We’ll have it here, on the balcony overlooking the garden.” She looked out the window at the impending black clouds.
His eyebrows shot up. “You hate storms.”
“I hate being alone during a storm,” she countered. “But I’ll be with you.”
His face lit with a smile. “If you say so. I’ll be right back.”
When he retreated to get the picnic wares, Maisy went to the linen closet and grabbed an old blanket. She went to the patio and pushed the chairs and a small table to the edge. Then she spread the bedding over the cement flooring.
Dominic returned, the basket in one hand, the other holding something behind his back. She reached for the basket, but he held out a bouquet and did a comic bow. “Your flowers, madam.”
“Thank you.” She giggled at his gesture and took the flowers and held them to her nose, inhaling the sweet, fresh scent of the yellow lilies and daisies. “Aren’t you full of surprises?”
“Lucky guess, picking ones that matched your dress.” His eyes roved over her, from head to toe. “Which looks great on you.”
“Thank you, again.” Goodness, was that a blush drifting up her neck? One would think they were on a first date. Well, they were, kind of… “Summer storms rarely last long. With any luck, it will pass by the time we finish eating, and then we can still go walk the bridge.”
“That’d be nice.” He brushed past her and knelt on the blanket, began unloading the basket—a real, honest-to-goodness picnic basket that had a split lid which lifted at each side.
“Can I help with anything?” She sat beside him, her legs curled to the side of her. The skirt of her dress spread out, covering down to her feet because of the position in which she sat.
“Just relax.” He gave her a smile. “I’ll take care of everything.”
One at a time he removed the containers until there were five on the blanket. The contents of the first three she could guess by their scent. Fried chicken bites, cucumber and tomato salad, and fresh yeast rolls. The fourth one, she thought she knew, but didn’t know where he would have gotten it in Nashville.
Dominic laughed when she told him her guesses and flashed a teasing smile when she mentioned her thoughts on the fourth food. He lifted it and removed the lid, held it out for her to see. “A little piece of home.”
A slow smile stretched her lips. “Where’d you find Carolina barbecue? I’ve been searching for weeks and haven’t found anything. A few places claimed it, but it wasn’t the real deal.”
“I begged mercy on Roxy until she sent her secret recipe, and then I made it.” He laughed. “By the way, I owe her a weekend of babysitting the next time I’m free to get home.”
“I can’t believe you went through all this trouble.” She waved a hand over their meal.
“You were worth it, Maisy.”
Another clap of thunder cracked over the sky. The storm was very near, but Maisy didn’t mind. With Dominic by her side, she wasn’t afraid.
They began eating. True to their picnic style, there were no plates. Eating straight from the containers was a tradition started years ago when Dominic would tease her about taking all his food after she’d claimed she wasn’t hungry.
“Fine,” she had said. “We’ll share all our food so we can’t tell who ate more.”
“Fine,” he’d agreed, and that was that.
Rain erupted from the sky, but the direction of the wind and the balcony above kept them dry. An occasional drop blew their way, but not enough to force them inside. Lightning bolts streaked downward around them but stayed mostly to the south. The temperature dropped and Maisy shivered.
Dominic’s arm wrapped around her shoulders. Comforting warmth enveloped her and she leaned her head against his shoulder. They stayed that way, riding out the remainder of the storm. An indefinite amount of time had passed before the thunder and lightning moved to the east, but when the tumultuous clouds moved out, they were replaced by nighttime’s cloak.
“Do you still want to go the bridge?” Dominic straightened, forcing her head up in the process.
The loss of his touch reached into her soul. She wanted to reclaim her spot on his shoulder, but she nodded. “I’ll clean this up first.”
She took the half-empty containers and carried them to the fridge, placing them inside so they wouldn’t spoil. Only as she was walking back to the balcony, did she realize the fifth one wasn’t there and she never did find out its contents.
“Looking for this?” Grinning, Dominic met her by the couch and held out the cardboard box.
The lid was flipped open, and Maisy peeked inside. “Petits fours and you kept them from me?”
“I wanted to make sure you ate something else first so I had half a chance of having one.” A playful wink bounced her way.
“Just for that.” She snatched the box, plucked a small cake from it, and took a bite. “Mmm.” She closed her eyes, savoring the sugary pastry. “These are amazing.”
“Good, because they cost a small fortune.” He was joking, evident by the lightness of tone.
“Seriously, you have to try this.” She looked at him, held the other half of the petit four to his mouth.
Her thumb brushed against his lips when he took a bite. The contact set her hand to shaking. Dominic covered it with his while he slowly chewed. There were other things on his mind besides the cake—she saw it in his eyes, where her own thoughts were reflected. His swallow was forced. He took the box from her and set it on the cou
ch, his gaze never wavering.
He licked his lips—something held him back. “I don’t want to leave tomorrow.”
“But you have to.” She pursed her mouth, wishing he didn’t have to go for so long.
One hand still held hers, and he let go to comb fingers through his hair. “I’m no good at this.”
She pressed a palm to his cheek. “At what?”
“Leaving you.” He took a step so that no space remained between them. “I’m scared, afraid I’ll come back in six weeks and you’ll be gone—that these last months were nothing more than a dream.”
The words stung, but the moment wasn’t about her. Dominic needed her assurance. “I’ll be here. I’m in for the distance.”
“As a friend?” His hand trailed over her hair, coming to a stop at the back of her neck.
“Or more.” Her chest rose and fell, her breathing abnormal. “That’s your call.”
“This ‘just friends’ thing, it’s never worked for us.” His warm breath tickled her jaw. “We’ve always been more.”
“Even when we weren’t.” She didn’t know if he understood what she was trying to say, that she never stopped loving him, even when she had left.
He lowered his head, and his lips hovered above hers, so close she could smell the sweetness left on his breath. “Don’t break my heart again.”
“Never.” She should tell him now so they could enter this new stage with no secrets. Then he’d have no doubt she left because she loved him. “Dominic…” She trailed off, losing the nerve to tell him. The night was perfect—no reason to risk spoiling it by bringing up unpleasant memories.
“Yes?”
“I’ve missed us.”
“Me too.” He elaborated his reply by closing the short distance between his lips and hers. His kiss was sweet, tentative at first.
Her hands moved to his shoulders, gripping them as if that could prevent anything from coming between them ever again. His thumb drew tiny circles on her nape as he deepened the kiss. Four years left them with a lot of making up to do.
