by JoAnn Durgin
Taking her hand, Thornton asked the blessing. “Father, thank you for the new mercies you bring each day and especially for the opportunity to share this meal together. I ask that you be with me as I attend the board meeting and that all would go well. It’s my prayer that I represent the family interests in a manner pleasing to you. Bless this food to our bodies and us to Thy service. In Jesus’s name I ask these things. Amen.”
“Amen.” Vara squeezed his hand. “Thank you.” Using a plastic knife, she sectioned off a slice and then slid it onto his plate. She watched as he removed his suit coat and arranged it over the back of the chair. Next, he loosened his tie. Lifting it over his head, he draped it over the back of a third chair. Then he carefully rolled the sleeves of his white dress shirt.
He noted her amusement with a cocked brow. “It’s quite a process. I don’t want to take any chances.”
“I can see that. Nice tie, by the way. Was that a monogram on the cuff?”
“Thanks, and yes, it’s a TJF monogram. I detest wearing cufflinks. Rose found these great shirts that can still be monogrammed but worn with or without them.”
“Good thing for you.” Grinning, Vara twisted off the caps of their water bottles. Might as well save him a little time.
“What? You find that amusing?” Done with his task, ignoring the fork, he picked up his slice of pizza.
“You poor little rich boy. Such a dilemma. Tony and Nick never have to worry about such things.”
“Doesn’t Tony wear a suit to court?”
“It’s Florida, so they’re much more casual. I’m sure he does, depending on the situation, but I know he’d probably share your aversion to cufflinks.”
He frowned. “I’m hoping cufflinks will eventually go the way of mood rings and hemp bracelets.”
That made her laugh. “You’d better hurry up and eat. You lost valuable time.”
“Funny girl.” Thornton dug into his pizza. “I was hoping you weren’t particular with your pizza toppings. I didn’t know anyone to ask, or I would have,” he said between bites. “Trying to find a phone number for one of your sisters didn’t seem kosher. I’m not sure they’d appreciate a phone call from some random guy in Minnesota asking what kind of pizza you like.”
“Are you kidding?” Laughing, Vara grabbed her napkin and wiped her mouth. “They would love it!”
“Have you told them about me?” The question came across as nonchalant, but Vara knew better. The man was on a fishing expedition.
“You could say that. As far as pizza toppings, the only thing I don’t like is anchovies. You?”
“Same. Another thing we agree on.” He winked. “Wanna get married?”
“The pizza’s great for now, thanks. I’m surprised they’re holding a board meeting on Valentine’s Day.” Using her fork, Vara stabbed another bite.
“People are still expected to work on Valentine’s Day. As much as I disagree, it’s not a major holiday.”
“Laura told me about your Valentine’s Day theory.”
He swallowed down a bite of pizza and then downed a long drink of his water. “It’s not so much a theory as a personal credo. I’m assuming she told you how I believe every day of the year should be Valentine’s Day and not just the fourteenth of February.”
“That would be the one.”
“Having one day a year dedicated to love is fine,” he said as they continued eating. “For some couples, it’s one of the few days—if not the only day of the year—they go out together on a romantic date. That’s sad, but it’s reality.”
“I told Laura I thought your philosophy was a good one, and that was even before you were a gleam in my eye.”
Thornton laughed heartily. “Is that what you’re calling me these days?”
“Among other things.”
He took another bite and appeared to be pondering his next words. “I think a lot of people have lost the true meaning of the day.”
“That sounds like what people say about Christmas.”
“Same basic theory. People want to take Christ out of Christmas, so I guess it stands to reason there are some who want to take the love out of Valentine’s Day.”
“Then that’s their problem,” she said between bites. “I’ll admit to knowing next-to-nothing of the history of Valentine’s Day. I’m sure you can enlighten me.”
“There’s a lot of misinformation out there. I can tell you what I know, but just know to take it at face value.” He grinned. “Don’t think I didn’t catch your diversion tactic, but it was a good instinct. No sense dwelling on something we can’t change.”
Vara smiled. “You’re getting to know me well. Go for it.”
“As the legend goes, in ancient Rome, Emperor Claudius II executed two men with the name of Valentine—both on February 14th, but on different years,” he said. “At least one of them was likely Saint Valentine, a kind-hearted Roman priest who married young couples against the wishes of Claudius. I’m not sure who the other Valentine was, but their martyrdom was honored by the Catholic Church in what became known as St. Valentine’s Day.”
Tipping her water battle on a spare napkin, Vara dampened it and then wiped the corner of Thornton’s mouth.
“Thanks. I didn’t realize I had sauce there.”
She winked. “You didn’t.”
He propped his elbow on the table. “I like the way you think.”
“Tell me more.” Vara waved for him to continue. “The legend.”
“There was an ancient Roman feast called Lupercalia that ran from February 13th until February 15th.” Thornton drained his water bottle. “This is another somewhat brutal story. Sure you want to hear it now?”
“It can’t be any worse than drinking out of a skull, can it?”
“Well, it’s about men hitting on women.”
“That’s nothing new,” she said, slowly chewing a bite.
“I mean men literally hitting—striking—women.” He waited until she nodded for him to go on. “The men sacrificed a goat and a dog. Then they’d whip the women with the hides of the animals they’d just killed. Supposedly the women willingly lined up to be beaten because they believed the practice would make them fertile.”
“I guess the passing of time hasn’t made people any smarter,” Vara said. “I hope that part’s not true, but I wouldn’t be surprised, sadly enough.”
“That’s not all.”
“Of course not.” Jumping up from her chair, Vara grabbed another water bottle from the small fridge. “There’s always something more.”
“Thanks.” He took the bottle. “There was a matchmaking lottery where a young man would reach into a jar and draw out the name of a woman. Then the couple would go off together and…well, couple…for the duration of the festival. Longer if the match was considered a good one.”
“Those wild and crazy Romans. Kind of like Woodstock, wouldn’t you say?”
Thornton burst out laughing. “Why are you so fixated on that?”
“I’m not, but it seemed to fit. It made you laugh, anyway.”
“You have a way of doing that.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “It’s one of the many reasons I like you so much, Miss Alexandris.”
She grinned. “Right back at you, Mr. Fielding.”
“Later on, a pope in the fifth century muddled things by combining St. Valentine’s Day with Lupercalia, thinking it’d be a day to expel the pagan rituals. Instead, the festival became a big drunken revelry, and a day of celebrating fertility and love. But then, as the saying goes, the Christians tried to put the clothes back on it.”
Vara lowered her water bottle. “That’s an interesting way to put it. Seriously, how do you remember all these things?”
“Because it concerns my favorite subject, I suppose. Or maybe because maybe I’m just weird and enjoy legends. There’s still a little more. Are you game?”
“If you have time, sure.” He’d helped himself to another slice of pizza while they’d been talking. She motioned
to the pizza box. “Would you like more?”
“Not if I want to fit into my tux on Saturday night for the Valentine Dance.”
“Good point. I should stop, too.” Charlotte was tinier in the waist than she was, and she couldn’t afford to go wild on the extra calories. She hadn’t shared with Thornton that she’d be wearing one of Charlotte’s vintage gowns. She hoped he’d consider it special once she told him.
“Moving forward in time,” he said, “Chaucer and Shakespeare romanticized Valentine’s Day, and handmade paper cards became the tokens-du-jour during the Middle Ages. Eventually, of course, the card-giving tradition made its way to the New World.”
“Thus the birth of Hallmark,” she said. “The month of February hasn’t been the same since.”
Thornton nodded. “Did you know there’s such a day as SAD which stands for Single Awareness Day? It’s a day when singles dine alone and binge on chocolate.”
“That is sad, but why don’t we conclude today’s lesson with a happy story? Surely you have another one of those up your sleeve.”
“I do, and then I need to go,” he said. “Again, whether or not there’s any truth to it, I can’t say. But to satisfy your request, I think you’ll find this one more to your liking.”
“I’m waiting with bated breath.”
He snapped his fingers. “Oh, you are good.”
“What are you talking about now?” He actually sounded impressed.
“I mention Shakespeare, and within the minute, you’re making a pun.”
Vara stopped in the middle of gathering their used tableware. “How is that a pun? Explain thyself.”
“The word bated was supposedly invented by Shakespeare.”
“It was not. You just made that up.” After tossing their trash in the can beneath the desk, Vara returned to her chair.
“Look it up if you don’t believe me. Be sure and type the words bated breath in the search engine.”
“You’re on.” Pulling her cell phone from her pocket, Vara Googled the words and waited. When the results popped up on the screen, she quickly scanned through the information. “Okay, so Shakespeare used the words ‘bated breath’ in The Merchant of Venice in 1596. According to a website called”—she checked her phone—“Grammar Girl, Shakespeare might have the distinction of being the first author to actually write down the words on paper, parchment, or whatever he used at the time. I would need to do some more research, but it doesn’t necessarily mean The Bard actually invented the word.”
Thornton chuckled. “At least I proved my point. Sort of.” He gave her another quick kiss. She didn’t mind and loved his little stolen kisses.
“You might want to start dressing while you talk,” she teased. “I know from personal experience it might take some time, and you don’t want to be late for your board meeting.”
“In a minute. This story’s about our old friend Emperor Claudius and the kind-hearted priest Saint Valentine before he lost his head, quite literally. Some say Valentine defied Claudius by helping Christians escape the torture of the Romans. But here’s your sweet Valentine story: Claudius decided that single men made better soldiers and banned them from marrying”
“How is that sweet?”
He held up one hand. “Hear me out. As I mentioned before, Valentine reportedly continued to perform weddings of young soldiers in love, so Claudius had him imprisoned. But while imprisoned, Valentine reportedly fell in love with the jailer’s daughter, and he sent her a card signed “Love, your Valentine.”
Vara heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Well, that is a better story to end our lunch.” She squeezed his hand. “Thank you for this.”
“It was fun.” He rose to his feet and began to roll down his sleeves.
“Wait. Let me help you.” She fixed one sleeve and then started on the second.
“You know, this is romantic having you do this for me.” Thornton’s lazy smile made her feel warm all over.
“I’m glad you think so. I like doing it for you. Now, lift your elbow for me, please. It’ll make it easier to fasten the button at your wrist.” Thornton did as she asked, and Vara felt the heat of his gaze as she worked.
“Thank you,” he said as he pulled the tie over his head. Repositioning it, he tightened the knot and then reached for his suit jacket.
Lifting his jacket from the back of the chair, Vara held it for him. He leaned back slightly and pushed his arms through the sleeves. Then turned around to face her. “I talk about every day being Valentine’s Day, but there is something uniquely special about today.”
Vara adjusted the jacket on his shoulders and then checked the knot in his tie. “For one thing, it’s the one day a year you can wear a ridiculous tie like this and make it seem completely appropriate.” Her eyes widened. “Don’t tell me this is also a sentimental gift Charlotte gave you. Or that it’s from an ex-girlfriend.”
“You should feel special, Vara. I don’t bring Valentine-shaped pizzas to just any girl, you know. And Charlotte didn’t give me the tie, Rose did.”
“Ah, yes. The other woman in your life.” Vara ran her fingers down one edge of the tie. “Should I worry that I have competition from two women for your affections?”
“No,” he said. “Completely different situations.” Thornton slipped his arms around her waist. “Vara, you have to know how I feel about you.”
“I do, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’ll be leaving soon.”
“The only fact that matters in this moment is that I’m falling in love with you.” When he lowered his head, she lifted her lips to meet his.
“That was…great.” Thornton shook his head, appearing a little dazed. His goofy grin filled her with feminine satisfaction and prompted her own silly smile.
“You’d better leave now or you won’t be able to concentrate,” she whispered against his lips. “I know I’m going to have a difficult time.”
“As you wish.” Stepping back, he pressed a kiss to her palm. This was the way he’d been saying good-bye at Andrea’s or at the house following Charlotte’s sessions. “I’ll see you tonight. You sure you’d rather not go somewhere here in the city for dinner?”
“All those places will be packed.”
He grinned. “So will The Cherish Diner. We’ll probably be sitting in a booth sandwiched between Frankie and her boy of the month.”
“Thornton!”
“I have it on very good authority that Frankie likes the bad boys. If she is there, don’t think I won’t sit between them.”
She couldn’t help teasing him. “And who’s going to sit between us if you get a little fresh with me tonight?”
He laughed. “I’ll try to be on my best behavior, Vara Valentine.”
That reminded her of something. “Was this the last day for the quotes on the chalkboard at Andrea’s?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact.”
She frowned a little. “Something about that makes me sad. Are you going to tell me who’s behind them?”
Thornton shuffled his feet and pushed his hands down into the pockets of his dress slacks. Standing before her, wearing a mischievous grin, he looked like a schoolboy caught in a prank. “Do you really need to ask? I think you know.”
She tilted her head, puzzled. “On that very first day, you told me emphatically that you weren’t the one writing them on the board.”
“Think about what you just said, Vara. The literal interpretation.”
She stared at him for a long moment, and then it dawned on her. “You weren’t the one who wrote them, but you are the one behind them.”
“That is correct. I take full responsibility, but I think next year, I’ll pass on the mantle and let someone else have the honors.” He shrugged with a cute grin. “Start another new tradition in Cherish, perhaps.”
Vara only prayed he would be around at this time next year. “I think that sounds like a terrific idea, Thornton. So, tell me, what was the final love quote for today? The Valentine’s Day quote?
I imagine it was a very special one.”
“I call it The Valentine Verse.”
She nodded. “I like it. And what is The Valentine Verse?”
“The verse of Scripture that tells the story.”
“The story?” It seemed he wanted to be mysterious. “There are a lot of verses about love in the Bible, Thornton. You have a meeting, and so do I.”
“The story.” As Thornton waited, watching, Vara began to run a few familiar verses of Scripture about love through her mind.
Of course. John 3:16. He wouldn’t have chosen any other verse. The story of life, the story of eternal life, the story of God’s love for His Son, and, quite simply, the ultimate love story for all time.
“For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son…” Vara stopped, tears choking her throat, and gestured for him to continue.
“That whosoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life,” he finished.
Walking to meet him in the middle of her office, Vara wrapped her arms around Thornton and kissed him. “Thank you for my Valentine verse,” she whispered. She looked up at him through misty eyes. “I do love you, you know.”
“I know.” Thornton’s smile emerged from what Vara knew to be the true heart of this man.
She returned to her chair behind the desk. “Thank you for the surprise visit. I’ll see you tonight at seven.”
“You betcha.” With a devastating smile, Thornton disappeared around the corner.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Saturday Early Evening
Vara waited until the chauffeur closed the little window between them before retrieving her cell phone from her evening bag—a tiny satin bag with barely enough room to fit the thing inside. She tugged it out with a small grunt and then quickly punched the number for her youngest sister.
As soon as Brie picked up, Vara didn’t give her an opportunity to speak. “You would not even believe where I am right now.”
