“Is that enough?” he asked.
She couldn’t manage anything more than a slight groan.
Joshua closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “Unfortunately I feel the same way myself. I promise you the day will come when we won’t stop with the kissing, Hannah. Frankly the sooner that day arrives, the better.”
Joshua left her to return to his office. The warm glow of his kisses carried Hannah all the way to Carl’s apartment building. He should be home, seeing that school had been out for several hours. Hannah had been to his place only twice. Carl was an orderly man who kept his quarters meticulously clean. Hannah had never known anyone more gifted in the area of organization than Carl Rabinsky.
Not once on the long walk did Hannah doubt that she was doing the right thing. Only when she arrived at his building did she hesitate. Gathering her courage about her, she squared her shoulders and pressed the doorbell.
Carl’s low voice came over the intercom. “Who is it?”
“Hannah,” she said, standing on her tiptoes and speaking directly into the intercom to make sure he could hear her.
“Hannah? My goodness, what are you doing here?”
“I came to talk to you. Could I come up?”
“Of course.”
A couple of seconds later a buzzer rang and the lock on the front door released, allowing Hannah inside the building. More nervous now than ever, she took the elevator up to Carl’s apartment. By the time she arrived outside his door, she was convinced her heart was ready to pound straight through her chest.
“This is a surprise,” Carl said, leading her into the living room. The area was nothing like she remembered. Books and papers littered the table. Unopened mail was scattered across the coffee table. This wasn’t like Carl. Not once in all the time she’d known him had he displayed any signs of sloppiness.
“Is something wrong?” Hannah asked, watching him.
“I don’t think there’s any reason to try to hide it any longer,” he said, sinking into the chair and covering his face with both hands. “I should have told you sooner.”
Hannah didn’t know what to think. “Told me what?” she asked gently. She’d never seen Carl like this.
He raised his head slowly, his look tortured. “But then I haven’t found the courage to tell anyone.”
Hannah waited, knowing Carl would get around to explaining himself eventually. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair and refused to look at her.
“I lost my position with the school,” he blurted out, then squeezed his eyes closed. “I couldn’t take it any longer, and I got into an argument with Hiram. Since he’s the headmaster and I’m nothing more than a teacher, he fired me.” Carl raised his head and squared his shoulders. “If you want to call off the wedding, I’ll understand. I don’t deserve a good woman like you.”
Brynn didn’t tell anyone about the formal reprimand that Mr. Whalen had placed inside her employment file. There didn’t seem to be any need. Everything he’d said was true. She had stepped over the line, but try as she would, Brynn couldn’t make herself regret the impromptu discussion with her students. If she’d managed to reach just one member of her class, then it had been worth the trouble.
Her thoughts were heavy as she made her way home that afternoon. Dinner was simmering on top of the stove when her telephone rang. She reached for it automatically.
“Hello,” she said.
“It’s Roberto.”
Brynn closed her eyes. The sound of his voice, with his soft, lilting accent, was like sinking neck deep into a warm bath in the dead of winter.
“I heard you’re teaching sex education now, too.” He sounded more amused than angry with her, which was a welcome change.
“I really stuck my foot in it this time,” she told him.
“Although he probably wouldn’t come out and say as much, I think Emilio was grateful to have someone talk frankly about the subject. Girls can be pushy these days. As pushy as the boys.”
“I’m sure that’s true.” After some of the things she’d seen in the last few weeks, there was little that would shock Brynn anymore.
“Although if you cared to get pushy with me, we might strike some agreement.”
Brynn laughed. “Keep dreaming, Roberto.”
The mechanic’s chuckle slowly faded. “You do that to me,” he said, his voice low and serious. “You make me want to dream, but then I wonder . . . Never mind. I didn’t call you to talk about dreams.”
“Oh?”
“I want to take you to dinner.” His voice grew so serious that she wondered if there were some hidden significance behind his request.
“When?” she asked, not that it would have mattered to her. He could have suggested next June and she would have agreed readily.
“Is Friday all right?”
“Yes,” she said automatically.
“I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.” How formal he sounded, as though he were unsure of himself.
“That’ll be fine,” she assured him. “I’ll look forward to it.”
“Me, too.” The smile was back in his voice, as if to say now that the awkward part was over, he could go back to being himself. “Thank you, Brynn.”
“Whatever for?” She was thinking his appreciation had something to do with what Emilio had told him about the class discussion.
“For agreeing to be my date.”
Not until Brynn was talking to Father Grady did she realize the significance in Roberto’s having asked her to dinner.
She met the parish priest after school, responding to a message he’d sent asking to speak with her. She guessed correctly that Father Grady had heard about her talk with her students.
“Are you going to lecture me about the error of my ways?” she asked him directly. They were walking toward the rectory. Father Grady’s hands were folded behind his back, and he avoided meeting her eyes.
“No,” he said slowly, “although I fully suspect you know the church’s teachings in the area of birth control.”
“I know, I just don’t happen to agree.”
Father Grady released a long, slow breath. “I’m not going to say anything about this again, but I’m disappointed in you, Brynn. I don’t know what happened for you to decide it was your duty to discuss this particular subject with your class, but my guess is this entire matter was spontaneous on your part.
“I strongly suspect one of the girls is pregnant. Well, it isn’t the first time, nor will it be the last. These things happen.”
“Birth control—”
“Promotes promiscuity,” the priest argued.
“It would be better if we agreed to disagree,” Brynn said evenly. She didn’t want to get into a verbal battle with the one person she considered her friend.
They didn’t speak for several moments.
“Roberto asked me to dinner Friday night,” Brynn said, wanting to break the tension between them.
Father Grady’s face broke into a wide smile. “He asked you, did he?”
“Is there something important about this dinner date I don’t know about?”
“Not particularly,” the priest informed her, “only that it’s probably the first time Roberto’s dated in the last four or five years.”
“You’re joking!”
“No. While he was in high school, he held down two part-time jobs in an effort to earn enough money for his mother to travel to the United States. Every penny went toward that goal. There wasn’t time for dances or anything else a normal teenager enjoys.”
“But he’s an excellent dancer.” Being in his arms had seemed as right as rain, as the saying went.
“He comes by that talent naturally,” Father Grady explained. “But he’s never taken the opportunity to indulge in the small pleasures in life. He sacrificed his youth for the sake of his mother.”
“I’ve never met her.”
“You won’t,” Father Grady said sadly. “She died before Roberto had saved enough money.”
&n
bsp; Brynn felt Roberto’s frustration. “I’m so sorry.”
“Roberto blamed himself.”
“But how could he?” She hated the thought of his taking on blame when he’d already sacrificed so much.
“He seemed to think that he’d failed her.”
“Surely he understands that isn’t the case.”
“Intellectually I believe he does, but not emotionally, although I have hope now that he’s taken such a keen interest in you.” Father looked well pleased with himself, as though he were the one responsible for bringing her and Roberto together. “You’ve been good for that young man, but by the same token Roberto has been good for you.”
“I like him so much,” she whispered. Sometimes it frightened her how deeply she cared for Roberto. He wasn’t like any other man she’d dated. He was deep and intense, intelligent and generous.
“I suspected you did.”
“Not at first,” she countered. “Roberto and I rubbed each other the wrong way in the beginning.” Even now they were at different poles on the subject of education. No matter how hard she tried to persuade him, Roberto refused to listen to reason.
Then it dawned on her why Roberto was so opinionated. Father Grady had unraveled the mystery. Roberto had stayed in school and worked, saving his money in order to bring his mother from Mexico. She’d died before he had been able to save enough. If Roberto had been working full-time instead of trying to balance two part-time jobs with his schooling, he might have been able to help his mother. Because he’d stayed in high school the help he had to offer her had come too late.
Twelve
Emilio followed Roberto around the apartment like a lost puppy, offering him unwanted advice for his dinner date with Brynn.
“First you’ve got to tell Miss Cassidy how beautiful she looks,” Emilio instructed, “then gently take her in your arms and kiss her, but only lightly. Remember that, because it’s important. You don’t want to start something too soon. Women don’t like a guy coming on heavy first thing. They want to be wined and dined first.”
“Emilio,” Roberto warned under his breath as he tightened the knot in his tie in front of the bedroom mirror, “I can handle this on my own.”
“But I know Miss Cassidy better than you do. Don’t forget I see her practically every day.”
But his brother didn’t view her as Roberto did. To Emilio she was his teacher, the first one he’d liked well enough to mention. To Roberto Brynn was a warm, desirable, generous woman. When they kissed the electricity between them was as powerful as Hoover Dam.
In the beginning he’d attempted to ignore the way the air sizzled every time they were together. A touch of antagonism had proved to be his best defense, and it had worked until Father Grady had manipulated them into chaperoning the dance at the church hall. Before he knew what had happened to him, Brynn was in his arms and life hadn’t been the same since.
“Where are you taking her to dinner?” Emilio asked, following him across the bedroom.
Roberto splashed on a touch of spice-scented cologne. “I haven’t decided yet.” Actually he had, but he didn’t want his brother dropping by unexpectedly with some phony excuse.
Emilio frowned with disapproval. “That’s not going to work, bro, you’ve got to plan these things well in advance. You should have made reservations for a classy woman like Miss Cassidy.”
If the truth be known, Emilio’s attitude toward Brynn amused him. The way Emilio talked about her, one would think his brother was half in love with her himself.
“You can’t just walk into any restaurant and expect a decent table to be waiting for you.”
Roberto reached for his wool jacket. He hoped Brynn didn’t recognize it as the same one from the dance. He owned only one suit, and he wasn’t about to go out and purchase another just because of a silly dinner date.
“How do you know all this?” Roberto probed.
“I been around,” Emilio answered with a hint of defiance.
That might be true, but Roberto didn’t think Emilio had ever taken a girl out on a fancy dinner date.
“You got her flowers, didn’t you?”
Roberto hadn’t thought of that. “No.”
“Oh, man,” he said, shaking his head, “you’re going to blow this.”
“I’ll pick some up on the way.”
Emilio’s face relaxed. “Good idea.”
Roberto headed for the door, then stopped for his overcoat and gloves. The leather gloves were new and necessary to hide the car grease he couldn’t remove from around his nails.
Once more Emilio followed him. “I know the perfect restaurant,” he said excitedly, and snapped his fingers. “It’s perfect. Call Mama Celeste’s and make a reservation. The food’s great and they think you walk on water ever since you repaired their van.”
“Good idea.” Unfortunately that was exactly where Roberto had already planned to take Brynn. He turned and met his brother, eye to eye. He couldn’t remember when Emilio had grown so tall. Nearly ten years separated them, and Roberto had become accustomed to being the older, wiser, bigger brother. He wasn’t taller by much, and that surprised him.
“I’ve already made arrangements to take Brynn to Mama Celeste’s,” he admitted. “And I don’t want you making any excuses to stop by there this evening. Do I make myself clear?”
One corner of Emilio’s mouth lifted with a cocky half smile. “What’s it worth to you?”
Roberto eyes narrowed into a dark scowl, and Emilio laughed. “Hey, I was just kidding, bro.”
Roberto opened the front door. “Don’t wait up for me.”
“Are you kidding, man? This is one night I’m going to want to hear about.”
Brynn had been less nervous for her first high school prom. She checked her appearance a dozen or more times before the doorbell rang. Her inclination was to rush across the room and throw open the door, but she forced herself to remain calm and collected.
Roberto stood on the other side of the door, so handsome her breath locked in her lungs. It reminded her of the night of the church dance. He’d knocked her senses for a loop then, too.
Looking away, she stepped aside to allow him into her apartment. “Hello, Roberto.”
He inclined his head slightly. “You look lovely.” Smiling, he stepped into her apartment and tenderly pressed his lips to her cheek.
Surprised and delighted, Brynn raised her hand to her face, her fingers investigating the spot where he’d kissed her.
Next he presented her with a small bouquet of flowers.
“Roberto, how sweet. Thank you.” She led the way into the kitchen, where she placed the bouquet of pink carnations and miniature purple irises in a tall crystal vase.
“I didn’t think to buy any wine,” she said, regretting now that she hadn’t thought of that beforehand.
“We’ll have wine later,” he said.
“I’ll only be a minute,” she said, and gestured self-consciously toward the bedroom. “I need to get my coat.”
The ride to the restaurant, an Italian one from the looks of it, took several minutes. Roberto, the perfect gentleman, helped her out of the car and then escorted her inside.
The moment she walked through the door, Brynn was greeted with the scents of basil and simmering tomato. Garlic permeated the air, and she inhaled deeply, the smell alone enough to make her hungry. No one needed to tell her how good the food would be.
Roberto apparently knew the owners, and standing with his arm tucked around her waist, he introduced her.
“Brynn Cassidy, meet Stefano and Celeste Seti.”
She shook hands with the white-haired gentleman who was smiling broadly. His wife, Mama Celeste herself, planted her hands on her face and mumbled something in Italian to her husband. Brynn couldn’t understand a word. Whatever it was appeared to please the grandmotherly woman. With a wide smile she kissed Roberto on both cheeks and promised them, in heavily accented English, the best dinner of their lives.
&n
bsp; Soon they were seated at a table. Before Brynn had a chance to smooth the linen napkin on her lap, she was served red wine, thick slices of bread, and a large block of cheese.
The food never seemed to stop coming. Brynn sampled one fabulous dish after another. There must have been three or four different appetizers—shrimp, eggplant, tiny meatballs—before a huge Caesar salad arrived. When Brynn was convinced she couldn’t eat another bite, the pasta was brought to their table by Stefano, who insisted she would break Celeste’s heart if she didn’t take a large portion of the specialty of the house. From the envious looks being sent her way, Brynn had the feeling if she couldn’t finish the clam spaghetti, any number of volunteers would gladly step in for her.
“More wine, more wine,” Stefano insisted, replenishing their glasses when she’d finished the best pasta she’d ever tasted. Brynn wasn’t given a chance to refuse the wine. Stefano filled her glass and carried away their empty plates.
“I’ve never had such good food in my life,” she murmured, and scooted back her chair. She planted her hands on her stomach. “But if I don’t stop eating now, I won’t be able to walk.”
“No dessert?” Roberto teased.
They finished with a cup of dark coffee. Stefano and Celeste visited their table before they left, and this time it was Brynn who was hugged and kissed. Mama’s eyes watered, and she dabbed at their corners with the hem of her apron.
Once they were outside, Roberto headed for the car.
“Would you mind very much if we walked awhile?” Brynn asked. Physical movement would help ease the stuffed feeling. Besides, she didn’t want the evening to end so soon.
“By all means, let’s walk,” Roberto agreed. He reached for her hand and set a slow, easy pace. The night was crisp and cold.
“It looks like it might snow.”
Roberto glanced skyward. “Wishful thinking on your part,” he murmured. “There’s barely a cloud in the sky.”
He was right. The image of them walking together, hand in hand through lightly falling snow, appealed to her.
Although she’d enjoyed their dinner, her one regret was that with all the food being served, and Stefano checking to be sure everything was to their liking, there hadn’t been much of a chance for the two of them to talk.
Touched By Angels Page 17
