She heard them chattering around her, all the Andrassys, but she didn't know what they said. She saw them, but only peripherally. For Julie, Stephen was the only person at the table, and the others might as well have not been there at all.
In a daze she fancied that she could read his thoughts. Don't go away, he was crying out to her. Stay. His eyes pleaded, and she couldn't avoid them.
Quickly she stood and pushed her chair back with a clatter.
"I—I believe I'll go and lie down for a while," she stammered to no one in particular. "I think my experience with the tornado yesterday affected me more than I thought."
The family conversation dimmed like the volume turned down on a radio, and then it swelled again as she ran up the stairs. Then she was in the room she shared with Gabrielle and Eva, and she was alone. She shut the door and locked it before throwing herself across the bed.
He was in love with her. Even her limited experience had prepared her to recognize the intense emotion shining from Stephen's eyes. What should she do about it?
It depended on how she felt about him. She turned on her back and stared up at the light fixture on the ceiling. How did she feel about Stephen Martinovic-Andrassy?
She felt close to him. She had discovered that she could talk to him about serious personal concerns, and he was understanding, kind, and dealt with her worries in a straightforward, common-sense sort of way. And, after the other night in her car, she knew that she was incredibly aroused by him.
"Julie? Are you all right?" Eva rattled the doorknob.
"I'm okay," Julie said. She went and unlocked the door. "You can come in if you want."
"What is this hiding thing you're doing?"
"It's a headache thing. How could I possibly hide in this house?"
"Want an aspirin? I'll get you one."
"Not right now." Julie lay moodily back down on the bed.
"We're all going for a walk down to the barn. Or at least to where the barn used to be. We want to take a look at it before Paul's workmen start clearing the rubble tomorrow. Do you want to come along?"
Julie shook her head. "Negative. Over and out." She closed her eyes.
"Stephen insisted that I come up and make sure you weren't gasping your last. I'll reassure him, don't worry." Eva whirled around and ran downstairs.
Again, proof that Stephen cared about her, that he loved her. Julie knew she had not mistaken the passionate yearning in his eyes, the sense of deep attraction. Suddenly her spirits soared and she felt euphoric. He loved her! Shouldn't that be cause for happiness?
Her mood fizzled as quickly as it developed. All the safety precautions and reassurances didn't matter because in the end what counted was that Stephen walked a cable high above the ground, and in a split second he could falter, hang for a moment in midair and fall. Death did not walk the high wire; it lurked below. And it didn't go away. It was always there, lying in wait for those who dared to defy it.
Something tightened around her heart, an icy band of pain, and she knew that she had to accept the truth: She could never love this man.
There was no need ever to confront the situation with Stephen. She could maneuver and manipulate their meetings so that they were never alone. She could make sure that they didn't talk privately. She would never give him the chance to speak of love.
It wouldn't be so hard, this avoiding him. After all, she and Nonna would be leaving soon.
* * *
Try as he might, Stephen couldn't get Julie alone. She had slept late for the past two mornings, which was unusual for her. He and the others had already gone to the meadow by the time she got up. At lunchtime on Thursday she simply wasn't there. When he commented casually on her absence, Gabrielle mentioned something about Julie's having errands to run in town.
He planned to ask Julie to go for a walk alone with him after dinner, but she and Eva went off to the movies without asking anyone else to join them. And afterward, Julie and Eva retired early. Stephen had paced up and down the floor of the room where he slept, knowing that time was short.
This day, Friday, Julie went to Michael's home to eat lunch with Lynda and the children. In the evening, she said she had to pack. She disappeared into the room she shared with Gabrielle and Eva at seven-thirty and didn't come out.
She was avoiding him. He realized that now. What had he done? Had he said the wrong thing? He was desperate to establish their special kind of closeness again, if only for an hour. She was going back to Florida the next day. He had no idea when he would see her again.
He heard Julie's cell phone ringing on the table in the hall where she must have left it. Stephen ignored the ring. In this house, someone's phone was always humming or bleeping or dinging.
"Julie?" Claire called up the stairwell. "I hear your phone."
Julie's door flew open, and suddenly Stephen felt a glimmer of hope that he might be able to catch her for a brief moment before she disappeared again. It wouldn't be enough time to tell her all that was in his heart, but it would be a beginning. He didn't think she noticed him sitting in his room on the couch that served as his bed.
"Oh, no," she was saying into the phone, her voice full of anxiety. "That's awful." After a pause she said in bleak resignation, "Well, how long?"
Stephen listened more closely. It was obvious from the expression on Julie's face that this was bad news. He emerged from his room as she hung up.
"Anything wrong?" Stephen asked.
"It's Molly, my best student. She's broken her leg."
"The little gymnast? The one who is so good?"
"She was thrown from a horse. She'll be in a cast for at least three months."
"I'm so sorry."
"I had such high hopes for her next meet. Of course, Molly's devastated, too."
Stephen's heart went out to Julie. She looked so upset.
Nonna beamed from the bottom of the stairwell. "Julie! Think what this means!" Her face was alight with happiness.
"It means I don't have a student to teach. I was planning to devote all my time to Molly this summer while the work load is light. Most of our gymnastics students take the summer months off for camp and vacations with their families."
"Yes, and that's what we will do also!" Nonna clapped her hands like a young girl. "Don't you see, Julie? This means that we don't have to leave tomorrow! We can spend the whole summer right here at the farm."
Chapter 7
Julie managed to stay out of Stephen's way for most of the next week. It wasn't hard, with so many Andrassys around. Eric, Claire's fourteen-year-old son, arrived home from camp, which added to the confusion. With something going on every minute that the cousins weren't practicing on the wire, Stephen had no opportunity to catch Julie alone.
Anyway, he was busy with his own concerns. His phone rang constantly. The television news spot that had been shown on the Atlanta station early in the week generated a lot of interest in the act. Stephen was constantly fielding questions about when they would perform, where they would perform, and whether it was true that they would attempt the famous Andrassy nine-person pyramid.
Nonna was in her element. She taught Tonia to sew, and all the Andrassys were reluctant recipients of calico bags loosely held together with Tonia's giant stitches. Nonna even found an old bag of Eric's marbles, and she could be found kneeling at the edge of a circle inscribed in the dust, tossing around words like "aggie" and "immy." In the evenings Nonna huddled around the kitchen table with Sam and Eric playing Monopoly. Oh, yes, no doubt about it—Nonna was having a wonderful time.
But Julie wasn't. Time hung heavy on her hands. She started one of Eva's novels but couldn't concentrate on it. She visited with Lynda, Michael's adorable redheaded wife, whom she had never really gotten to know before, but twenty minutes of discussion about what color socks to buy Tonia and what to do about Mickey's teasing of his sister bored Julie to distraction.
Thoughts of Stephen sprang from a seemingly inexhaustible wellspring, overwhelming her
at the oddest times. It didn't take much to start the images flowing; the tilt of his head when she said something of interest, and the murmur of his voice, which she called to mind with no effort at all. The rich rumble of his laughter, the touch of his hand on her shoulder, the satiny smoothness of his lips. Oh, it all stayed with her, seldom far from her consciousness. She had never been so obsessed with a man before.
Most nights she tossed, burning, beneath the cool white sheets while Eva and Gabrielle slept soundly beside her. They were both worn out from practice every day, but Julie's relatively inactive life didn't provide enough exercise. She was accustomed to working out rigorously alongside her students at the gym.
She needed an exercise program. Why not start the very next morning? She'd begin by running a couple of miles first thing.
* * *
Julie was up at dawn. She yanked on shorts and a shirt, jostling Eva's bed as she bent to tie her shoelaces.
"Wha?" Eva mumbled as she opened one eye to the sight of Julie feverishly bundling her unruly hair into a knot at the back of her head.
"Go back to sleep," Julie whispered before creeping down the dim hall to the bathroom to brush her teeth.
The air was chilly, and she set off at a brisk walk to warm up. By the time Julie reached the driveway, she had hit her stride. She plowed through curling remnants of the morning mist, her spirits lifting.
She ran lightly, easily, feeling the fresh air sweep the cobwebs from her brain. She would run all the way to the road, then continue to the Andrassy Acres subdivision, circling until she came to the meadow where the practice wires were set up. She'd get back to the house just in time for breakfast.
On the old cow path, she rounded a stand of trees. In the distance she saw the high wire and was surprised to see that someone was on it. She slowed to a stop. There was no mistaking the figure on the high wire. It was Stephen.
Why was he out here so early in the morning? She walked several steps, hands on her hips, breathing heavily. As she drew closer, she saw that Stephen was alone. He was totally engrossed in what he was doing, aware of nothing and no one.
He was silhouetted against the opalescent sky of sunrise, and his stance was majestic, magnificent. He seemed illumined with light from within. His hair blew gently in the slight breeze; he stood immobile. At the same time he managed to look both determined and transfixed by whatever drove him to walk the wire. He was beautiful.
Mesmerized, she watched as Stephen knelt on the cable, then, with exquisite grace, lay down so that one foot swung beneath it. He remained like that, totally at ease as he rested and contemplated the transformation of sky from gray to pink to blue.
If she moved forward now, he might see that she had been watching. Or was his concentration so deep that he still saw nothing? Julie felt as though she had caught Stephen in the middle of something very private.
After a time—Julie didn't know how long—Stephen rose from the wire as gracefully as he had stretched himself upon it. He stood, face to the sky, and then, slowly and surely, slid one foot forward, then the other. Every muscle was in control, every molecule of his being was concentrated on the cable.
Alone he dared the sky; alone he touched the stars. Clearly he savored his solitude. Stephen had spoken to her of the peace of giving himself to the wire completely and centering down until he felt at one with the air. Stephen's perfection and mastery of his art moved Julie quite unexpectedly. She let out a shaky breath as she realized that Stephen Andrassy didn't so much control the wire as he made it a part of himself. She couldn't deny, after watching Stephen, that of all the places in the universe, the wire was the right place for him.
She dared not let him see her. If he did, he would know that his performance had stirred her in a strange and wondrous way. And she didn't want him to know that she had finally and illogically admitted to herself that walking the wire was what Stephen was meant to do with his life. She could hardly believe that her thinking had changed so radically.
Carefully she stood and made her way back to the trees at the edge of the meadow. She'd go back to the house through the subdivision, the way she had come.
Her last view of Stephen before she rounded the bend in the path was of him crossing the wire, surefooted and erect, his arms joyfully stretched toward the rising sun.
* * *
At lunchtime, Julie arranged tuna sandwiches on a plate and shot Stephen a sidelong glance as he hurried through the kitchen with his cell phone pressed to his ear.
"Yes? Yes, I can see you today." There was a pent-up excitement in Stephen's tone, and she wondered who the caller was. She became even more curious when Stephen provided directions to the farm.
"I am expecting a guest this evening," Stephen announced as they sat down to lunch.
"Who?" asked Eva, not as unwilling to ask as Julie was.
"Oh, a man from Atlanta. Please pass the carrot sticks, will you, Sam?"
Nothing more was said about the impending visit until a man wearing sunglasses and a business suit drove up in a car with a rental sticker on the windshield. Stephen hurried out to meet him, and the two of them closeted themselves in the room that served as Stephen's bedroom and office. It was two hours before they came out.
Julie, who was sitting on the front porch sharing conversation and a peach with Paul, noticed that Stephen seemed aquiver with excitement as he walked his guest to his car. There was only one thing that could engender such enthusiasm in Stephen—something to do with walking the wire.
"What was that all about?" Paul asked, tossing the peach pit over the porch railing as Stephen mounted the steps.
"It is—" Stephen stopped when he saw the expression of dread on Julie's face. It was as though she had guessed, as though she knew. But he had only made his final decision minutes ago. He cleared his throat. He would have to handle this carefully, for Julie's sake.
"Come inside," he said. "I have an announcement to make."
Silently Julie and Paul followed him into the house. The family gathered around in the living room. Claire switched on a lamp.
"It is settled," Stephen said. "And you shall all be the first to know. In order to get publicity for the return of the Amazing Andrassys to the high wire, I have just signed a contract to appear on the television show Dare!"
"You, Stephen? You alone?"
"Yes. Me alone."
"I watch it all the time. They feature live daredevil acts, like the guy who jumps a bunch of school buses on his motorcycle," Eric said.
"The Amazing Andrassys aren't exactly daredevils. We're performers!" Michael sounded puzzled and also annoyed.
"We are performers, yes. But we can also be daredevils at times, depending on where we perform."
"And where will that be?" Julie whispered, fear stabbing into her heart. She thought she knew.
"I," he said slowly and with a sense of drama, "I am going to walk a cable across the Tallulah Gorge."
It was completely quiet. Then the room erupted with questions, with astonished exclamations. Everyone crowded around Stephen, talking all at once. Julie stumbled blindly toward the front door. No one would miss her now; no one would see her leave.
No one, that is, except Stephen himself. His gaze followed her as she slowly let herself out.
Julie got into her car and drove to keep herself from thinking of the wild and awesome Tallulah Gorge and of Stephen suspended above it.
Her car swallowed up the miles to town until she approached the stoplight in Peaceable Kingdom. She slowed down, intending to drive on. But as she sat at the red light, she realized that beyond the town lay only a dark and lonely road. If she didn't do something to distract herself, she'd focus on Stephen crossing the Gorge, and she didn't want to do that. Abruptly she turned the corner and swung her car into a diagonal parking place not far from the Peaceable Kingdom Cinema.
It was a Friday night, and the locals had turned out in force to cruise the town. Cars circled the courthouse square, then peeled off at the st
oplight. Kids leaned out of car windows, yelling to their friends gathering under the trees where old codgers played checkers during the day. A carnival atmosphere prevailed, and that was all to the good for Julie's purposes.
Without really thinking about it, she found herself standing in line waiting to buy a ticket to the movie. There were twin theaters inside, but she and Eva had already seen the science fiction feature playing in Cinema 1. Okay, so she'd go to Cinema 2. It didn't matter as long as there was something to fill her field of vision, anything other than the mental picture of Stephen crossing Tallulah Gorge.
* * *
Stephen saw Julie standing in line in front of the Cinema and, surprised, braked the car he had borrowed from Paul. He was glad to find her in so ordinary a place. He'd had no idea where she'd intended to go.
She was feeling this—he could tell. He joined her in line as though he was supposed to have been there all the time. The people behind her glared at him for breaking in. He hoped they'd think he'd been parking their car, that he was Julie's date—or husband.
"Which movie are you going to see?" he asked.
She shrugged. "Not the science fiction film. The other one."
He paid for the tickets and she stood aside, unprotesting.
Inside, an overzealous teenager wearing a white paper cap stood behind the popcorn machine, keeping up a steady chatter as the moviegoers entered the theater.
"Fresh-made popcorn, get it right here. Sure, here's a jumbo-size box. Have a cold drink to go with it? Step to the right, the girl at the end of the counter will help you. Lots of fresh, buttered popcorn! How about it, sir? Popcorn for you?"
Stephen was startled when he realized that the boy was talking to him.
"Er, yes," he said, inserting his hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out change. The boy handed him a red-and-white striped box.
"And how about some for your lady?" he said.
"My la—? Oh, of course. Juliana? Would you care for popcorn?"
Julie shook her head. Without thinking Stephen curved his free arm around her shoulders. It seemed like the natural thing to do, but he was chastened when Julie shook his arm off and strode ahead of him into the darkened theater.
Touch the Stars Page 9
