scared I’m going to get too used to your being here. I’m enjoying it maybe too much. It might get . . . I don’t know . . . a little tricky for me to say goodbye when the time comes.”
Meg was stunned. “You mean . . . maybe you’re developing feelings . . . or . . . you might like having a roommate . . . friend . . . What exactly are you saying, Trace?”
He took a deep breath. “I’m saying I like you. Really like you. And I know you’re going to leave in a few weeks—you have an important career. I can’t compete with that, but my heart’s involved already.” He stared out over the water. “Just be honest with me. If you’re not feeling the same way, tell me. We can go back to being friends and pretend we never had this conversation.”
“You could do that? Go back to being friends if I don’t feel the same way? ‘Cause I don’t think I can. I’ve been fretting over you all weekend—worrying about how I think I’m starting to care about you differently than you care about me.”
Trace swung his head around to look into her eyes. There it was. He was seeing what he hoped to see—the same thing he saw in his own eyes in the mirror. “Really?” He could barely get the word out.
“Yeah. I haven’t felt this way about someone in a long time. Maybe never. What should we do?”
Trace laced his fingers with hers. “Let’s just see how it plays out. Take it slow. If it ends when it’s time for you to go, we’ll deal with it. If both of us can’t bear for it to end, we’ll work through it the best we can. No pressure from either of us. Okay?”
“Okay.” She finally smiled. “No pressure. Nice and easy and slow.”
He studied her for a minute. “You look tired.”
Meg winced, “Thanks a lot. Up until that point this was a really romantic moment.”
“Sorry, no offense.” He looked chagrined.
“I didn’t sleep much last night. I was worried I had completely turned you off and you’d want nothing to do with me.”
“No, I just panicked.”
They sat in silence for a while and watched the seagulls diving over the water. “Big day today?” Trace asked.
“Just starting a new three-day workshop series—we finished the first one Friday. Also going to work on the showcase. We have to really get it nailed down and decide which students will perform and what genres we want to represent. Time’s ticking. How about you?”
“No, just an ordinary day at the office.”
“Ha ha! That’s funny!” She bumped her shoulder into his. “You said something a minute ago . . . about my having an important career. How can someone like you—who really has an important career—say that to someone like me?”
“You don’t think your career is important?” He was really surprised.
“Well, compared to what you guys do, no. It’s kind of frivolous when you think about it. I get respect in my own field, I guess, but I wouldn’t say it was that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things.”
“Well, you’d be wrong. What you and Sean—and all artists—do is really important. You bring beauty to the world. And we all need beauty in the world. Guys like me see too much ugliness.”
Meg reached up to rub his furrowed brow with her thumb. “Thank you.” She was really touched. “It’s for sure that you guys—all of our military—make it possible for us to share our art with the world. You give us that freedom. I don’t think you get enough credit for that.”
Trace tightened his hand around hers, stood up, and pulled her to her feet. He slid his arms around her. “I’ve gotta get going. Hate to leave you today, though.” He laid his forehead against hers and looked into her eyes.
“Me too.” She smiled impishly up at him. “Good talk. I’m glad we cleared the air.”
“My pleasure. And a huge relief.” He stepped back and started up the steps pulling her after him.
Meg’s cell phone rang and she dropped Trace’s hand to dig it out of her sweater pocket. “Hey,
Meg was stunned. “You mean . . . maybe you’re developing feelings . . . or . . . you might like having a roommate . . . friend . . . What exactly are you saying, Trace?”
He took a deep breath. “I’m saying I like you. Really like you. And I know you’re going to leave in a few weeks—you have an important career. I can’t compete with that, but my heart’s involved already.” He stared out over the water. “Just be honest with me. If you’re not feeling the same way, tell me. We can go back to being friends and pretend we never had this conversation.”
“You could do that? Go back to being friends if I don’t feel the same way? ‘Cause I don’t think I can. I’ve been fretting over you all weekend—worrying about how I think I’m starting to care about you differently than you care about me.”
Trace swung his head around to look into her eyes. There it was. He was seeing what he hoped to see—the same thing he saw in his own eyes in the mirror. “Really?” He could barely get the word out.
“Yeah. I haven’t felt this way about someone in a long time. Maybe never. What should we do?”
Trace laced his fingers with hers. “Let’s just see how it plays out. Take it slow. If it ends when it’s time for you to go, we’ll deal with it. If both of us can’t bear for it to end, we’ll work through it the best we can. No pressure from either of us. Okay?”
“Okay.” She finally smiled. “No pressure. Nice and easy and slow.”
He studied her for a minute. “You look tired.”
Meg winced, “Thanks a lot. Up until that point this was a really romantic moment.”
“Sorry, no offense.” He looked chagrined.
“I didn’t sleep much last night. I was worried I had completely turned you off and you’d want nothing to do with me.”
“No, I just panicked.”
They sat in silence for a while and watched the seagulls diving over the water. “Big day today?” Trace asked.
“Just starting a new three-day workshop series—we finished the first one Friday. Also going to work on the showcase. We have to really get it nailed down and decide which students will perform and what genres we want to represent. Time’s ticking. How about you?”
“No, just an ordinary day at the office.”
“Ha ha! That’s funny!” She bumped her shoulder into his. “You said something a minute ago . . . about my having an important career. How can someone like you—who really has an important career—say that to someone like me?”
“You don’t think your career is important?” He was really surprised.
“Well, compared to what you guys do, no. It’s kind of frivolous when you think about it. I get respect in my own field, I guess, but I wouldn’t say it was that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things.”
“Well, you’d be wrong. What you and Sean—and all artists—do is really important. You bring beauty to the world. And we all need beauty in the world. Guys like me see too much ugliness.”
Meg reached up to rub his furrowed brow with her thumb. “Thank you.” She was really touched. “It’s for sure that you guys—all of our military—make it possible for us to share our art with the world. You give us that freedom. I don’t think you get enough credit for that.”
Trace tightened his hand around hers, stood up, and pulled her to her feet. He slid his arms around her. “I’ve gotta get going. Hate to leave you today, though.” He laid his forehead against hers and looked into her eyes.
“Me too.” She smiled impishly up at him. “Good talk. I’m glad we cleared the air.”
“My pleasure. And a huge relief.” He stepped back and started up the steps pulling her after him.
Meg’s cell phone rang and she dropped Trace’s hand to dig it out of her sweater pocket. “Hey,
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