Justin looked down and shook his head. Finally, he raised his chin and stared at her solemnly. “I guess there’s nothing more to say.” He fished his car keys out of his pocket. Then he gave her one more steely eyed gaze.
“What?” Lilah asked.
“You still haven’t answered my question.”
And she never did.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
One week later
OF COURSE SHE LOVED HIM.
She didn’t talk about it to anyone in Congo. She’d spent all of her energy just to get to the village for Esther’s funeral, where she hugged everyone and everyone hugged her. Where she grieved for the loss of her dear friend who had been so brave. And while she worried what would happen to her children, she saw that despite their obvious sadness, the other women in the village immediately adopted them into their families. So, really, there was nothing for her to do but marvel at the resilience of those who’d survived. And maybe feel sorry for herself.
She tried shifting her nurturing instincts to Matt, who truly had joined the organization under fire. “You can go home, if you want,” she encouraged him. True, she had arranged for armed guards for them, even before she landed. But that protection was no guarantee that trouble couldn’t happen again.
But he’d shrugged his shoulders in his loose T-shirt and acted very logical. “I’m not sure what exactly I thought I was getting into when I signed up. But I certainly can’t go back now. We have the next traveling clinic to work on, and the doctors and nurses are really cool.”
She could see she wasn’t needed there. So she sought out Noreen. Somewhere in the shift of continents, Noreen had abandoned her designer duds and taken to wearing old Grantham University T-shirts and cargo shorts. Still, the statuesque redhead cut a dramatic figure as she made her way through the villages, the children running after her, shouting, “La Rousse. La Rousse.” “The redhead, the redhead,” and waiting for handouts of sugarless gum that she always seemed to have in supply.
“You’re sure this isn’t too much for you, Noreen?” Lilah would ask. “It’s not exactly Grantham.”
“It’s scary and incredible all at the same time. I can’t take it all in,” Noreen would respond.
“But if you need to go home early?”
“I’ll stay the two weeks that I signed up for. I’ve heard from Mimi and Conrad, and they’re managing to hold the fort. Besides I’m just starting to talk to the women about the limited schooling possibilities. I really think it’s an area where we can make an impact with our donors.” She’d look inquiringly at Lilah, her hair a frizzy mound but somehow glamorous anyway.
How does she manage that? Lilah wondered as she pushed her own bangs out of her eyes. She knew she looked exhausted, circles under her eyes, her skin pasty, her heart and soul aching.
“That sounds very exciting. I’m glad you came then so that you can see it all in person,” Lilah answered. And she was excited, she really was. Only…
“It will require someone to organize the effort, someone who is an expert in early education, and who could spend a lot of time traveling,” Noreen noted.
“I agree. Perhaps the village elders might have some ideas,” Lilah answered.
“Perhaps.” And then she paused. “You haven’t spoken with Justin lately, have you?”
Lilah shook her head. “No, not since coming over here. I’m sure he’s busy though.” And then she purposely avoided the topic, even later when Noreen brought up his name in conversation.
And she really wasn’t fishing for information when she called Mimi on Skype. “How are things holding up?” Lilah asked.
“We’re managing. Now that school’s out, it’s more time-consuming. I now know every park, playground and petting farm in a ten-mile radius. By the way, if you ever go to Broward Farm, avoid at all costs getting a cider slushee and a bag of cinnamon donuts. Your stomach will never tolerate the mix—trust me.”
Lilah looked down, her own stomach more concave than usual. She just couldn’t work up an appetite these days.
“And your father?” Lilah tiptoed into dangerous waters.
“We tend to limit our communications to text messages, but at least they’re civil. Anyway, he’s acknowledged he owes me for letting him know about Press’s court mess, so I can hold that over him for a while, at least.” Mimi had seen the court summons in the mail after she’d arrived to help with Brigid, and when she’d confronted Conrad about it, he’d claimed he didn’t know anything. And then, the proverbial lightbulb had apparently gone off, and he’d made some inquiries.
“He fessed up to me about how the whole thing started, and when I heard, I had the mother of all fits. If he hadn’t sworn on a stack of Bibles that he would go to court for Press I was going to personally blackball him out of the Grantham Club of New York.”
“What did Press say about the whole thing? About your involvement?”
“I think his reaction was one of shock and awe. Anyway, it’s not like our relationship has suddenly gotten all soft and fuzzy,” Mimi admitted. “Though Press did allow me to drive him to his dorm at Columbia, where the museum is putting up the summer interns. And get this, since that meant I wasn’t in Grantham, I forced my father to take Brigid to Yoga and Me. I have this sneaky ambition to make it part of his weekly schedule now that I’ve commandeered Noreen’s whiteboard and felt-tip pens. I mean, it’s not as if I’m about to go. Really. Can you imagine me at a yoga class?”
“No, I can’t say that I can.” Lilah found herself laughing, even if most of what Mimi was telling her didn’t really make any sense from halfway around the world.
“So tell me, have you spoken to Justin at all?”
Why did the whole world seem to want to know? “No, but I know he’s been busy with the end of school.” She repeated her well-worn and unconvincing mantra. Lilah had yet to break the news to Mimi that the two of them were no longer an item, or whatever parlance was appropriate for the end of a spring fling. She had left the States so abruptly, with so many other things preoccupying her, that she had never found the time to tell anyone.
Yeah, right. It was more like she’d chickened out. She just hadn’t been able to face a Mimi-type rehashing of events. “Any reason you ask?” was about as nonrevealing as she got.
“No, somebody mentioned him to me the other day. I’m not sure who. Maybe one of the moms waiting to pick up their kids after school. And did I tell you how vicious it is out there? If you want to be toward the front of the line, do you know how early you need to get there? And I ask you, how can they drive these monster SUVs while talking on their phones? It’s a miracle someone doesn’t…”
Lilah tuned out the nonessential bits and eventually said goodbye.
But that call had been a few days ago. In between she’d spoken with her parents several times as they offered their love and support.
“We think you’re doing great things, pumpkin,” Walt had said in their last call.
“No one could ask for a better daughter,” her mother had added before filling her in on the graduation traditions that Lilah knew so well from her family’s little island.
“And have you talked to your friends?” her father had seemingly innocently asked.
But Lilah had heard some scolding in the background before her mother joined in, “And when you speak to Mimi, tell her how much she’s welcome to visit anytime.” Mention of Justin was left hanging. Her mother must have sensed from an earlier conversation that that discussion was verboten.
But today she was left by herself. Matt had pulled out with the medical crew and one of the traveling clinics, on their way to two neighboring villages. Noreen had tagged along to talk to the village women about schools. A Jeep followed, full of bodyguards riding shotgun.
Lilah had been prepared t
o go along—Sisters for Sisters was after all her initiative. But they had all insisted that she still needed some time after Esther’s death to just stay and soak in her memory of Esther, talk about her with the other women. Hug her children.
And she did. But she couldn’t help feeling empty. Empty from grief. Empty from love lost—Esther’s and Justin’s.
As she sat on a stoop at the open door to Esther’s empty hut, Lilah contemplated just how lonely she felt. Yes, she was embraced by friends who treated her as one of their own. She had achieved recognition for her efforts, a successful reward after ten years of backbreaking work. Esther was gone, but her children lived on, including her youngest daughter, Lilah—yes, a special gift bestowed on her by her late friend.
And if she was truthful, she didn’t need to do a damn thing today if she wanted it that way. She could sit and soak up the sun that had been absent for days. Listen to the birds calling, the insects buzzing, the children playing, the women going about their chores, the two remaining guards trading good-natured insults as they played cards near the village well. In fact, just enjoy a moment of living.
She closed her eyes, but try as she might, her muscles remained tense. Maybe that was her trouble? She shouldn’t try so hard? Maybe she needed Yoga and Me classes?
The sound of a sputtering car engine broke the humdrum noises. Lilah opened her eyes and with her hand shadowing her brow, peered down the winding road that led to the village. Clouds of red dust kicked up, announcing the vehicle’s entrance. And the noise brought a few of the smallest children out of their huts to investigate.
Their mothers quickly ran out to snatch them back inside. Lilah rose. She thought of the shotgun she had left by her cot. They were all tense from the recent brutalities.
The guards abandoned their game and readied their rifles. “Arrêt! Stop!” they ordered.
A single Jeep came to a stop. There were none of the volleys of gunfire that accompanied a raid. Instead, a dusty man rose from the passenger seat, his hands raised. A hat covered his head, hiding his features, and he wore the ubiquitous T-shirt, cargo pants and hiking boots of all aid workers. But there was something different. It was his gait, his loping stride.
Lilah turned quickly to the guards, who were still at the ready. “Tout va bien. C’est un ami.” “Everything’s all right. It’s a friend,” she said, directing them to stand down.
She took a step, then another. “Justin,” she called out, but her voice hardly carried.
It was enough, because he immediately turned and strode in her direction.
“You’re here? Not in Grantham?” she said when he stopped several feet away. He looked tired and grimy and sunburned and incredibly…right.
“I took an unpaid leave-of-absence from my teaching job next fall. There was no way I was going to keep compromising my principles with that jackass. You made me see that.” He dropped his rucksack on the ground. “You were right to say I was a coward, that I ran away from confrontation.”
She grimaced. “No, I never should have mouthed off like that. What do I know about teaching and testing? I was in pain and I lashed out—cruelly—in a way that I knew would hurt you. And the things I said about you and your dad? I feel so bad. I mean, I have a great relationship with my mom and dad. I don’t know how I’d act if I had a father that didn’t support me.”
Lilah replayed his words over in her mind. “Wait a minute. Unpaid? What are you going to live on, then?”
“Noreen had been emailing me for advice about establishing a more modern curriculum for local schools and the pros and cons of long-distance learning, and I decided to make her a preemptive offer to head up the schools program for Sisters for Sisters.”
“And she accepted?”
“Not yet. She said she’s run the numbers, and they look good. But she wanted to talk it over with you when things had settled down a little.”
“Yes, everyone has been walking on eggshells around me. They think I’m some fragile piece of porcelain that will crack.”
“No, they just love and respect you and don’t want to overburden you. Accept help when it’s given—okay? It makes other people feel good to give it.”
She nodded. “I’ll try. You’re right. But I still can’t get over that you’re here. Wait a minute. If you took an unpaid leave and we still haven’t worked out the terms of your contract—” she gave him a once-up-and-down “—how did you afford the plane ticket?”
“Well, I was ready to charge it, but I didn’t have to. I made a sale instead.”
“A sale?” She looked quizzical.
“My car. I sold it.”
“Oh, no, your pride and joy, I can’t believe it. Who bought it? Don’t tell me your father?”
Justin shook his head. “That would be too unbelievable. No, Penelope, my sister. It seems she’s taken a job at the rare book library at Grantham and, having never owned a car in Chicago, was in need of wheels.”
“But it’s more than wheels. It’s…it’s…”
“It’s a car. And you…well…you are you.”
Lilah smiled reluctantly. “Are you sure I am who you think I am? I mean, back in Grantham, even though we said we weren’t ruled by the past, I can’t help thinking we were somehow still caught up in memories.”
“And memories can be less than accurate?”
“Well, that’s why I’ve flown all this way to get reacquainted—no, acquainted. Call me crazy, but I think there’s this amazing possibility that if we actually get to know each other under normal—well, normal for us—circumstances, we may just have a long and very happy future together.”
Lilah smiled wholeheartedly. Who wouldn’t? She held out her hand. “I don’t think we’ve properly met. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Lilah Evans, founder of Sisters for Sisters and a terrible softball player.”
“And I’m Justinian Bigelow, an unemployed schoolteacher.”
“Justinian?” Lilah interrupted. “I never knew your real name was Justinian.”
“There’re a lot of things you never knew about me.” He held out his hand, looked at it, then withdrew it, swearing softly under his breath.
Lilah watched his actions then looked at his face, confused. “You don’t want to shake hands?”
“We’re done with the introductions,” he said and pulled her close and kissed her. Really kissed her. And it wasn’t like friends.
And when they finally broke apart he searched her face. “I know it’s early goings, but would you be offended if I said I loved you?”
“Only if I didn’t love you back.”
And he was about to kiss her for a second time when she held up her hand.
“Recite the lines,” she said with a grin twitching her lips.
“What lines?” He angled his head and tried again.
But again she pressed her fingertips to his lips. “Recite the lines from Shakespeare’s sonnet that you used to use on all the women at Grantham.”
“I thought we’d moved beyond college?”
“We have. But that still doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear it.... C’mon. ‘Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?’”
He took her in his arms. His long legs straddled hers. He whispered the love poem by heart.
The warm vibrations from his mouth close to her ear tickled her skin.
And then he finished with the familiar words, “‘and this gives life to thee.’”
Lilah sighed.
“This is the moment, of course, when I kiss the girl.”
“By all means,” she agreed.
And he did—with a vibrant love that touched her heart.
When he ended the kiss, she pulled back and exclaimed, “My hero.”
“No, you’re my hero. And
my love.”
This time, she was the one kissing Justin Bigelow.
* * * * *
ISBN: 9781459221123
Copyright © 2012 by Louise Handelman
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On Common Ground (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 24
