The Color of Heaven - 09 - The Color of Time

by Julianne MacLean

  Chris glanced up at the ceiling. “Maybe he’s orchestrating this whole thing, for all we know. Maybe he planted the bug in my ear to go and eat lunch at the pub the other day.”

  I chuckled softly. “Maybe so.”

  Buffy rose up on her hind legs and rested her chin on Chris’s leg. He patted her soft, fluffy head. “Do you need to go outside?”

  She perked up at that.

  “We should probably call it a night anyway,” I said. “I don’t want to rush into anything. I need to sleep on this. You should, too.”

  Though he seemed disappointed, he agreed and slid his chair back to rise. “Can I help you clean up?”

  “No, I’ll just throw everything into the dishwasher after you’ve gone.”

  I walked him to the door where he picked up Buffy’s leash and hooked it onto her collar. “Can I call you tomorrow?” he asked. “And I hope you’ll have some time off when Logan is here. I’d really like for you to meet him.”

  My head drew back and I blinked a few times in rapid succession. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” Chris cocked his head to the side. “What is it? You seem surprised.”

  I swallowed uncomfortably. “I am…kind of. I mean…I’d understand if you wouldn’t want to introduce me to him.”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you’re hesitant about bringing other women into his life?”

  Chris shook his head. “Not at all. I think it’s good for him to meet new and interesting people, and you’re someone I’ve known a long time. It would mean a lot to me. I’d love to bring him over here, if that’s okay.”

  “Of course it is, but will Katelyn be okay with that?”

  “It’s not really up to her, is it?”

  For some reason I couldn’t quite understand, his answer pleased me more than I could comprehend.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  I went to sleep that night longing for Chris, quite ardently, despite everything we’d talked about at dinner. I resisted the urge to get up and call him and tell him that I’d changed my mind—that I didn’t need to sleep on anything. I wanted to be with him. But I had made a conscious and sensible decision to take this slow and not fall head over heels. I needed to remember that this was complicated.

  That was the word he had used, and it fit the situation perfectly.

  For that reason, I forced myself to go over in my mind all the reasons why I needed to proceed with caution.

  We barely knew each other.

  He lived out West.

  His wife might want him back.

  I might have some tragic medical condition.

  Mostly, I was afraid of getting hurt again. I was afraid of falling in love and losing him. If not now, later. I feared not being able to let go of that love. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life pining away for yet another beautiful person. I’d done enough of that already.

  The following morning, I went to work and told Cassie all about my date with Chris the other night and how he had taken me to my doctor’s appointment, then dropped the bomb that his ex-wife wanted to come and spend a week with him and their son.

  “Her timing sucks,” Cassie replied as she counted the money in the till before we opened for lunch. “After four years with another guy, she expects him to take her back, and for everything to go back to the way it was? And this, as soon as he meets you? Will wonders never cease.”

  “It’s just my luck,” I replied as I set napkins and cutlery on the tables.

  My cell phone vibrated just then, so I reached for it in the pocket of my apron. It was a text from Chris: So I slept on it… Any plans for dinner? Can I take you out for seafood?

  It was not yet 11:00 in the morning. I couldn’t deny that I was thrilled he was so eager to see me again, so soon.

  I texted him back: I slept on it, too. No plans. Seafood sounds good.

  I slid the phone back into my apron pocket and arranged two more place-settings. My phone vibrated again and I was lightning-quick to reach for it.

  He wrote: Great. I’ll pick you up at 6:00. This was followed by a little red heart icon.

  My own heart exploded with happiness, and a flock of butterflies went mad in my belly. How would I ever make it through the day?

  I couldn’t believe how badly I missed him. All I wanted to do was dash out the door, drive straight over to his house, and throw my arms and legs around him.

  “Was that him?” Cassie asked as I struggled to focus on setting out the rest of the cutlery. “It must have been, because you’re all flushed.” She opened the drawer on the antique cash register and its bell dinged.

  I turned to face her. “He’s taking me out to dinner tonight.”

  She raised an eyebrow at me. “So much for playing it safe.”

  “Tell me about it. Wish me luck. I have a feeling I’m going to need a ton of it.”

  * * *

  I was sitting on the steps of the mansion in a lavender sundress and white ballerina flats when Chris pulled into the driveway. Anticipation flooded my veins. I’d been feeling it all day—an electrifying excitement that made it impossible to concentrate on anything. All I could think about was the two of us coming together again, greeting each other, having dinner together and spending the whole night talking. Maybe we would gaze up at the stars again. Maybe he would tell me he didn’t want Katelyn back and that he wanted to make plans to bring me out to Seattle.

  Clearly, I was in deep trouble.

  With my little white purse in hand, I rose to my feet and descended the stairs.

  Chris got out of the car, took one look at me and laid a hand over his heart. “Wow. You look so beautiful it hurts.”

  I rewarded him with a dazzling smile. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

  That night, he wore a white cotton button-down shirt and faded jeans that hung loose on his hips.

  Never taking his eyes off mine, he strode toward me. My heartbeat escalated until at last we met face to face and he took me into his arms—as if I were the long lost lover he hadn’t seen in a year.

  I felt it, too—a desperation to touch him, to be with him intimately. I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders and buried my face in his neck.

  “I prayed all day that you wouldn’t change your mind about seeing me tonight,” he said in a low, husky voice.

  “I couldn’t have,” I replied, and before I knew it, he was kissing me, lifting me off the ground.

  Around us, the leaves on the trees whispered in the cool evening breeze off the water, and my skirt fluttered lightly around my legs. The kiss was heated and intense. It sent a tremor of rapture deep into the core of my soul.

  Eventually, he set me down and forced himself to step back. Then he whistled. “That was something.”

  I chuckled softly.

  He reached for my hand to lead me around to the passenger side of the vehicle.

  The flirtation between us felt explosive as he ushered me into the vehicle and shut the door then circled around the front to get into the driver’s seat beside me.

  A moment later, we were on our way to the restaurant, grinning at each other like a couple of star-crossed, mad-for-each-other teenagers.

  * * *

  We dined at the Sea Glass Restaurant, then Chris took me out for a sail to watch the sun go down.

  Again, we dropped anchor and sat on the boat deck, talking animatedly until midnight about everything, from our marriages to our childhood experiences and families. We reminisced about the past and the times we had spent with Ethan.

  Chris shared painful experiences with me concerning Logan’s illness. He teared up and apologized afterward.

  When he drove me home, it was nearly 1:00 in the morning. Though I was tempted to invite him in because I didn’t want such a perfect night to come to an end, I resisted the urge because I had to be at work the next morning, and had promised myself that I would take this slow. I had to make some effort to protect myself from moving too fast,
too soon.

  That didn’t stop me, however, from making out with Chris in the front seat of his car for about twenty minutes before I dragged myself away to say goodnight.

  The next morning, he texted me at work again, shortly before we opened for lunch: Dinner again tonight?

  I texted him back: Sounds good.

  We went to Portland for ribs, then we saw a movie and shared a bucket of popcorn.

  We made out again in the front seat of his car when he dropped me off, and again, I had to peel myself away from him in order to say goodnight.

  And so it went, for the next four days: Dinner every night; sailing or a walk with Buffy; window shopping in town; holding hands. The chemistry between us left me in a constant haze of suppressed passion. We could barely keep our hands off each other.

  After the life I’d lived, I hadn’t thought such feelings were possible ever again. I was still afraid to trust it.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  The aluminum ladder felt steady in my hands as Chris climbed it to clean out Gram’s gutters at the back of her house. She was finally home from the hospital, but couldn’t relax because she was fixated on the leaves clogging up the gutters. I remembered the dream I’d had and worried that she was going to try and climb the ladder herself, so I mentioned it to Chris. He immediately offered to come by and take care of it for her.

  When he walked in the door and I introduced him, she told me not to be so foolish because she remembered him perfectly well. She hugged him like a son returned from war and offered him a beer.

  Looking boyish, he was insanely attractive in faded jeans, a red T-shirt that clung to his fit muscular body, work gloves, sunglasses and a navy baseball cap, he dragged the hose up the ladder and sprayed water into the trench full of leaves to loosen the obstruction.

  “It’s a good thing you called me when you did,” he said, brushing some wet leaves over the side and glancing down at me at the base of the ladder. “This really needed to be cleaned out.”

  “Thanks for coming.” I lowered my voice. “I’m almost positive Gram would have tried to do this herself if you hadn’t shown up. I could see it in her eyes. She had that determined look about her. God knows what could have happened.”

  “She’s an amazing woman,” he replied, scooping out the leaves. “I can’t believe she’s eighty-six. I hope I’m that energetic when I’m her age.”

  “Me, too.”

  Chris pressed the lever on the hose and a spray of dirty water and rotten leaves splashed down on me. I exclaimed and stepped back.

  Chris laughed. “You might want to go inside. It’s going to get messy when I start tossing out the goop.”

  Hesitant about letting go of the ladder, I squinted up at him. The sun nearly blinded me. “You sure?”

  “Yeah, this is no problem. It won’t take long.”

  “Okay.” Reluctantly I backed away, shaded my eyes to watch him for a few seconds, then I climbed the back steps and entered the kitchen. I found Gram at the counter making sandwiches.

  “No doubt he’s working up an appetite,” she said. “Can’t let a good man like that go hungry.”

  “Certainly not.” I reached into the decorative crystal bowl for a pickle and crunched into it.

  Gram pointed at the package of sliced cheese on the table. “Hand me that, will you?”

  I fetched it and peeled off the plastic wrap to pass her one slice at a time.

  “So what’s the scoop, baby girl?” she asked. “Give me all the dirt.”

  I laughed. “You know the dirt, Gram. He’s only here for a couple of weeks, then he’s going back to Seattle to be with his son.”

  “End of story,” she said, with a hint of disapproval.

  “I don’t know.”

  She let out a huff. “What about his ex-wife? You mentioned the other day that she might come out here to visit?”

  I glanced out the kitchen window at the water dripping over the eaves. “I’m not sure about that. He’s looking forward to seeing his son, Logan, but he hasn’t said whether or not Katelyn will be coming to stay as well. It’s still up in the air, I guess.”

  “You guess. Now there’s a recipe for disaster.” She put the sandwiches together and reached for the knife to slice them into triangles. “I hope you’re putting up a good fight on your end.”

  I laughed. “I’m not sure what you mean by that, Gram, but I don’t think I should have to fight. If it’s meant to be, it will be.”

  She slapped a slice of ham onto the mayonnaise-coated bread. “Phooey on that. If you don’t make sure he knows how you feel, he’ll be ripe for the picking—by that other woman who betrayed him and broke his heart all those years ago.”

  “That ‘other woman’ is the mother of his child,” I replied. “And his child has leukemia. Sometimes I wonder if I should just get out of the way and let them put their broken family back together. I don’t want to be a homewrecker, especially in a case like this.”

  “You’re not the homewrecker,” my grandmother said, facing me. “She was.”

  I thought about that for a moment, and was surprised by the sorrow and compassion that seeped into my soul. “We all make mistakes.”

  My grandmother set down the knife and stood motionless at the counter for a few seconds, staring at the triangular sandwiches. Then she turned to me and cupped my chin in her gnarly fingers. “You’re a good person, Sylvie. So kind and sympathetic. You deserve to be happy.”

  She carried the plate of sandwiches to the table and set it down.

  “So what do you think I should do?” I asked.

  “I can’t make that decision for you, but he should at least know how you feel. It won’t work if you keep him at a distance. His wife will come out here and throw herself at him, all sexy and seductive, while you stand back, behind protective glass.”

  “What are you saying, Gram? That I should sleep with him?”

  “Gracious, no,” she replied as she turned on the coffeemaker. “Making a man wait always works to a woman’s advantage, but in this case, I don’t think you’ll be doing yourself any favors by playing it cool. If you want to be with him, make sure he knows you’d get on a plane and change your life for him.”

  “You mean move to Seattle?”

  “If that’s what it takes. If you want to be a part of his life, you might need to consider making some sacrifices—like getting rid of that giant house you don’t want to let go of. You’ll have to decide what’s more important to you. The past or the future.”

  A big glob of wet leaves and muck fell past the window, and suddenly I could hear the sound of the high pressure water sluicing across the clean gutter. A moment later, the hose shut off and Chris climbed safely down the ladder.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  I drove straight to work after Chris and I finished at Gram’s house, as I was scheduled for the evening shift that day. Grateful for the distractions of my job—for I’d been analyzing my love life so obsessively over the past few days, my brain was beginning to throb—I focused on the food orders and drinks and welcomed the insanity of a busy night at the pub.

  Later, I went to bed fantasizing about a future with Chris where he had never been married and there were no obstacles to get in the way of us being together. But when I woke, everything was still the same.

  My cell phone vibrated, and I knocked over an empty water glass as I reached for it in my sleepy state.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, it’s me.” The sound of Chris’s voice on the other end of the line roused me like the delectable smell of coffee first thing in the morning.

  I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “What time is it?”

  “It’s just past 11:00. Did I wake you?”

  “Yeah, but it’s time to get up anyway.” I tossed the covers aside and slid off the bed, padded to the mirror to look at myself, still half asleep. “What’s up?”

  He was quiet for a few seconds. “Are you working this morning?”

  “No,
I’m off until the dinner shift.”

  “Can I see you? Right now? I have something I need to talk to you about.”

  A feeling of apprehension rolled into my belly. I suppose I was jaded, always expecting the ceiling to come crashing down on my head.

  “Sure. I just need to hop in the shower and get dressed. Do you want to come over for breakfast?”

  “I’ll be there in half an hour, but don’t cook anything. I’ll bring breakfast.” His voice was clipped and in a hurry. “See you soon.”

  After I ended the call, I sank onto the edge of the bed and rubbed my hands over my face to try and wake myself.

  * * *

  “There’s been a change of plans,” Chris said as he set a paper bag and tray of coffee on the center island in the kitchen. He reached into the bag and withdrew two breakfast sandwiches he’d picked up at the deli in town. “I’m not sure how you’re going to feel about it.”

  Though my insides were knotting up with dread, I tried to maintain a light and casual tone. “What is it?”

  He backed away to lean against the counter. “Logan had a doctor’s appointment rescheduled for next week, so we had to change his flight. He’s coming early. He’ll be here today.”

  The fact that Chris feared I would be unsettled by this news was unsettling on its own. “But that’s good, isn’t it? You were really missing him.”

  “I was,” he replied, looking me intently in the eye. “But Katelyn is bringing him out.”

  “Ah, I see.” The sense of easy contentment left me as I regarded Chris in the morning light beaming in through the windows. I dragged one of the stools out from under the kitchen island and sat down.

  “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with this,” Chris said. “Katelyn and I had a long talk on the phone last night and she didn’t want Logan to fly out here all alone. That’s all. I told her I didn’t want her to stay for the whole week and she accepted that, so she’s flying home first thing tomorrow morning, on a 6:00 a.m. flight. I’ll bring Logan back to Seattle myself, in time for his appointment.”