Romance Through the Ages

by Amy Harmon

  He must have sensed my discomfort because he shifted after a moment, leaned forward and interrupted. “If you don’t mind, I’ll leave you two to talk design.”

  After he’d walked away we continued. “How did Mrs. Keller find you?” Emma asked.

  “Her son, Chad, is a friend of mine.” I was so glad Matt had left. “I was very lucky.”

  “I’d say you were all lucky. Tell me how you came up with this plan.”

  I started by explaining that they wanted something very different than the shabby chic they’d had for so many years. I also told her that Mr. Keller had wanted something a little less feminine, but I knew Mrs. Keller would need it to have pretty details or she’d be disappointed. I described our meeting and how I’d been inspired by the plates.

  Emma asked questions and we talked for more than thirty minutes. She was excited by various details, especially the rug and the fireplace. “You know, some designers aren’t brave enough. They keep things very safe and when they’re finished, you have a perfectly adequate room, but it doesn’t sing. That fireplace sings. This rug sings. These orange pillows sing. You have so many things singing in here, you’ve given them a choir.”

  It was hard not to get excited by her analogy.

  “Thank you. I’m so flattered that you like it.”

  “I don’t flatter, Elizabeth. I design and when someone does it right, I get excited.”

  “Thank you.

  “I really can’t afford to take on a new designer. It’s been about all I can do to keep the three I’ve had for several years.” My heart sank a little but I did my best to keep a pleasant look on my face. “At the same time, I’m not sure if I can let talent like this turn into competition.”

  She paused and looked around. “I can’t believe I’m saying this. I didn’t come to this party looking to interview perspective designers. In fact, I came expecting to get a little chuckle at the overdone roses. But…” She shook her head. “Let me think on this and then let’s talk.”

  “I’d love to. Thank you, Mrs. Cho.” My insides were singing along with the rest of the room.

  “Please. Emma.”

  “Thank you, Emma.”

  Emma was leaving town and so we arranged a time to meet for lunch in two weeks and Emma Cho joined her husband on the deck. I sat there for a few moments soaking in my excitement before I realized I needed to use the bathroom. I looked for Matt. His back was to me and he was talking to a couple of men, so I walked down the hall to the half bath. The door was locked so I waited in the little hallway.

  “Is everything okay, Elizabeth?” It was Mr. Keller.

  “Oh yes. I’m fine. Just waiting for the restroom,” I said.

  “You’re welcome to use the one at the top of the stairs. Second door on the right.”

  The stairs were dark and the only light in the hallway was from a lamp in one of the bedrooms. Thankfully, the bathroom was available.

  When I stepped back out, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

  “Sorry,” Chad said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  I laughed. “That’s okay. It’s just pretty dark and I didn’t expect anyone to be out here.”

  “I hope you don’t mind that I followed you. I wanted to say hi and see how your visit with Mrs. Cho went.”

  “I’m supposed to call her Emma,” I said.

  “Oh, it went that well, huh?”

  “I was just hoping I’d get to meet her. I wasn’t planning it to be a real job interview.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She said I made the room sing.” Chad smiled. “We’ve got a lunch date in two weeks. She wants to talk. She said she can’t really afford to hire another designer but she can’t really afford for me to become her competition.”

  “Wow.”

  “I’m sure she was just trying to be nice.”

  “So she’s just meeting you for lunch to be nice? I’m not buying it.”

  “She wanted a few days to think things over,” I said.

  “Well, I’m really proud of you.”

  “Thanks.”

  It was quiet for a minute. Chad leaned his shoulder against the wall. I was glad he didn’t seem in a hurry to leave. I didn’t want to ask but I had to know. “Are you here with a girlfriend?”

  “No.”

  “Oh. I saw that woman so I just thought…”

  “That’s Bethany. She’s my cousin.”

  “Oh.” I laughed a little when I realized how close I’d come to saying, “Oh, good.” I felt the color rise to my cheeks. I hoped the dim lighting would spare me from my traitorous blushing.

  “I wasn’t going to come, but Mom insisted.”

  “You weren’t going to come because of me?”

  “Well, yes. But not because I don’t want to see you.” He was quiet for so long I looked up at his face. He was watching me so closely. I held his gaze. “I always want to see you.”

  I looked back at my hands.

  “Sorry, Lizzie. I shouldn’t have said that.” My stomach was twisting into knots that a boy scout would be proud of. I almost couldn’t breathe. “I thought it might be easier for Matt if he thought I was here with a date.”

  I smiled. “You’re right, of course.”

  “I thought so.”

  I looked up at him again. “Why are you so nice to me?” I said softly.

  Chad wasn’t touching me, but I could almost feel his arm close to mine. I clasped my hands together to keep from touching his arm. The silence stretched out for several seconds. “You’re easy to be nice to,” he said.

  I knew Matt was downstairs. Matt loved me. I loved him. So why did I want Chad to close that last couple of inches and take me in his arms. Why was I aching to touch him? Why did my heart feel like it was caving in? And why couldn’t I breathe?

  I took a ragged breath and finally spoke. “I’m not sure I deserve a friend like you.”

  And that did it. I’d broken the spell. Chad took a step back and I wanted to cry. “You deserve whatever you want, Lizzie,” he said.

  I wanted a do-over. I wanted to handle things differently. I wanted to wipe away the word friend. I wanted to touch his arm. I was horrified when I realized I wanted him to kiss me. What was wrong with me?

  “You’d better go back down. Matt’s going to wonder where you are.”

  “Chad…”

  “It’s okay, Lizzie. Just go. I’ll wait up here for a few more minutes.”

  I turned and hurried down the stairs. I needed air. And space. I looked around at all the people, but couldn’t see Matt. The thought of searching for him or being forced to speak to anyone was overwhelming. I walked quickly to the front door and let myself out. The air was cold and brisk and chilled my lungs as I gasped it in. I sat on the porch step and leaned my head on the rail. I closed my eyes and let the cold air wrap its arms around me.

  I’m not sure how many minutes I sat there before Matt opened the door. “What are you doing, Elizabeth?”

  “I needed some air.”

  “You look so cold. Let’s get you back inside.”

  “Can we just leave? I’m ready to go home.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  Matt reached down his hand and pulled me up. “You’re hands are like ice.”

  Matt turned up the heater in the car but it didn’t warm me. I felt cold from the inside out. Matt tried to tell me about his talk with a real estate agent who thought the market was starting to turn around. Matt thought that was good because he’d been thinking about selling his condo and buying a house. Later, as I thought back on the conversation, I wondered if Matt was trying to tell me something important. If he was, I missed it. Because all the way home, I missed Chad.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  “It’s sorta nice getting a Christmas present that I can look forward to for almost three months,” I told Janessa.

  “And you’ve wanted to see Wicked for forever,” Janessa said.

  “I j
ust didn’t know things would be so crazy right now. I wish the play was in June. It almost feels irresponsible to get all gussied up for dinner and a play when there’s so much to be done.”

  “You need a night to relax,” Janessa said. “You’ve been going non-stop since Christmas.”

  She was right. It didn’t usually take me long to get moving in the morning but the last little while, it had been harder and harder to face the day. I worked at the bank until five, or six if I had to run the drive-through, then I put in another several hours each evening at the bookstore. Add to that my determination to be a good maid of honor and I felt like my tank was nearly empty most of the time.

  I tried to ignore it, but I think part of my weariness was a nagging feeling of discontent. Something felt off kilter and I knew that at some point I’d have to do some soul-searching to make it right.

  But right now I was too busy, so I stomped down any feeling of unease and shut out wayward thoughts. I had two jobs to do, a boyfriend to keep happy, a job interview to look forward to, and a best friend getting married. That was enough for now.

  “Are you sure this looks okay?” I asked Janessa.

  “You look fantastic,” she said.

  “I don’t know about this,” I said, turning and looking at my reflection.

  “Metallics are totally in. I promise.”

  “I’m not doubting you. I’m just not sure I can pull this off the way you can. I’m so… shiny.” The dress was gold metallic brocade. It had three-quarter length sleeves, a classic boat neckline and a slightly full skirt. It was a gorgeous dress. Janessa’s boss had picked it up for her at a sample sale the year before and Janessa had only worn it once.

  “Matt is going to die. I’ll bet Meg’s never worn anything like this.” I figured she probably had something like this in the back of her closet, but I didn’t want to think about Meg or her closet. “You look amazing,” Janessa said standing beside me and looking at my reflection in the full-length mirror. She fluffed up my curls. “He’s going to want you to wear this when you meet his family.”

  I smiled at Janessa’s reflection and then turned and hugged my friend. “Let’s just hope I can walk in these shoes,” I said. Tonight I’d traded in my tights and flats for a pair of strappy gold heels. Not high heels. That would be a disaster. But these were higher than I usually wore. I hardly recognized myself and I knew I’d have to concentrate as I walked so I wouldn’t take a tumble. “Thanks for sharing your fantastic wardrobe.”

  I had to smile at Matt’s reaction. “Wow, you’re stunning,” he said when I opened the door. “Let’s skip the play and I’ll just look at you.”

  “Knock it off,” I said.

  “You look like you just stepped out of a magazine.”

  “It’s not mine,” I said. I felt a little embarrassed at the lengthy inspection.

  “Well, it should be.”

  “Oh brother. Let’s go.”

  Dinner was Italian food at a little restaurant a block from the theater. The weather was cool and dry and we walked from the restaurant to the play. My feet were killing me by the time we reached our seats and I carefully slid off Janessa’s shoes and tucked them under my seat.

  I was familiar with the play. James’s wife, Laura, loved musical theater. Before she and James got married she’d been in regional productions of Phantom of the Opera and Evita. Three years ago she’d given me the soundtrack to Wicked for my birthday and I’d learned the words to every song. “When are they going to make a musical of Pride and Prejudice,” I’d asked her one night as we watched the movie.

  “Oh, they really should. Frank Wildhorn has done Jekyll and Hyde and Alice in Wonderland. He should totally do a musical version of Pride and Prejudice.

  “I wonder if Keira Knightley and Matthew Macfadyen can sing,” I’d said. “If they can, he should hurry so they could play the parts.”

  Laura had rolled her eyes. “You and Matthew Macfadyen.” What would she think if she saw Matt? Surely she’d see the resemblance. Janessa had noticed it.

  “What are you thinking?” Matt whispered in my ear and kissed my temple.

  “I was thinking they should make a musical of Pride and Prejudice,” I said.

  Matt laughed. “Don’t you think that would spoil it?”

  “Not if it was done by the right people,” I said.

  “I think most of the time people should just leave the classics alone.”

  “This is a classic,” I said, gesturing toward the stage.

  “A classic of what?” Matt asked.

  “Wicked. It’s a take-off of The Wizard of Oz.”

  “It is?”

  “Yes. It isn’t exactly the same story but you’ll see. It borrows the whole setting from The Wizard of Oz.”

  “Hmm. I didn’t know that.”

  “Hopefully that won’t ruin it for you since you think the classics should be left alone.” I elbowed him. “The music is just so good.”

  “I’m sure I’ll like it fine. And I’m here with you, right?”

  I smiled at him and he kissed my hand before holding it on his lap.

  The lights dimmed and the orchestra began playing and I snuggled into Matt’s arm. This was a wonderful Christmas present.

  The play was excellent although the blonde that played Glinda didn’t compare to Kristen Chenoweth on the soundtrack. That made “Popular” a bit of a disappointment, but when Elphaba sang “Defying Gravity,” I thought I might float away.

  One of my favorite parts of the evening happened behind us when the man on stage held up the green baby. A little boy behind us started to giggle. “Look Mom, it’s a green baby.”

  “I know, honey. Shhh,” his mother said.

  He giggled again. “I’ve never seen a green baby,” he whispered. “It’s so cute.”

  The mom shushed him again but a moment later he giggled again. “I want to see the green baby again,” he whispered. I couldn’t help but smile. A short time later, his mother had to quiet him when he started singing along to “Dancing Through Life.”

  “Maybe he’s too young to be here,” Matt whispered in my ear.

  I shook my head. “I think it’s great. Listen to how much he’s loving it,” I whispered.

  * * *

  I sighed happily and sat contentedly in my seat when the lights came up at the end of the play. “Thank you, Matt. It was even better than I expected it to be.”

  “I’m sorry if Kael bothered you during the play,” the little boy’s mom said.

  “He didn’t bother me at all. It was fun to see how much he was enjoying it.” The woman smiled. “Do you know all the songs?” I asked the little boy.

  He nodded.

  “Which one do you like best?”

  “My favorite is “One Short Day” but I like them all.”

  “It must have been hard not to sing along. You were a good boy.”

  He smiled and tucked his head into his mother’s side.

  “Thank you,” she said and they left.

  Slowly the audience spilled out of the theater. We sat in the crushed, red velvet seats and waited, watching the finely dressed people leave. Some raved about the show, others were quietly lost in their thoughts. Finally Matt stood and reached his hand down to me. He was smiling.

  “What are you smiling about?” I asked.

  “How nice you were to that little boy. He knew more about the play than I did. I shouldn’t have been so hard on him.”

  I smiled back and took his arm. “He was pretty cute, wasn’t he?”

  “You like kids a lot?”

  “I love kids.”

  “No wonder you’re doing such a good job on the Children’s Room.”

  * * *

  The conversion of the sun porch from a cluttered storage room to a haven for book-loving children moved along steadily. I finished painting the shelves and the table and chairs. I hired the tattooed electrician and he and his embellished apprentice installed recessed lighting in the bookshelves. H
anging from the ceiling down the middle of the room were four clusters of pendant lights. Each cluster had seven lights with shades in different shapes and colors. I’d seen a similar look, all done in white, on the website for a nightclub in New York. Theirs looked pretty. Mine looked fun and I was happy with the outcome.

  Sam finished the mural and even Meg had to admit it was stunning. The children were so realistic and their expressions reflected the wonder of the adventure of reading. The pages were alive and the characters and places floated into the air with a feeling of abandon.

  Two days after Sam completed the mural, the carpet layers went to work. The day after that, I brought in the furniture, the beanbag chairs and the blocks. It was finished.

  * * *

  I took two pain relievers on the way to see Emma Cho. My head was aching and I wanted to be at my best.

  “Elizabeth, thanks for coming in,” Emma said.

  Emma Cho Design had its own building. Surrounding it was a strip mall, a gas station and a McDonalds. It seemed out of place with the rest of the businesses because it was such a beautiful building. White walls, glass and columns opened up into a large showroom filled with exquisite and expensive furnishings and accessories. Just walking through the showroom to Emma’s office made me want to redecorate the world.

  “Thanks for seeing me,” I said.

  I sat down in a low backed chartreuse armchair. The office was done in shades of gray and black. The only color came from the two chairs and the framed artwork. It was bold and elegant.

  Emma jumped right in with questions about my education and my design aesthetic. It felt comfortable and friendly and not at all like an interview.

  “This is difficult for me,” Emma said. “I can tell you’re a real talent and I don’t want to let you get away, but at the same time, no matter how I look at things here, I can’t hire someone right now. I’d like to make a proposal, however, and see what you think. I understand if you find a better situation, but we’re one of the best design houses in Portland and I’m crossing my fingers you’ll see the advantage of what I’m going to suggest.”