fading twilight. He leaned down, studying her back while he stubbed out his cigarette. Then he crossed to stand behind her. He caught her scent again, the Rachel-scent, the lingering of fine, costly powder caught in her clothing and on her skin, and it created a maelstrom in his senses.
"I didn't come here to upset you, Rachel. Not at all. But my life is in a hell of a mess and I don't think it's going to get straightened out until I can talk to you about what happened." He touched her shoulder, making sure he didn't touch too hard. "Rachel, turn
around. I've been thinking of this day for ... 73 for years. And now you turn away. Please, Rachel."
She dropped her chin, sighed, then turned very slowly, allowing him to look at her at close range while similarly studying him. They were strangers, yet they knew each other well. Their past was best forgotten, yet it never would be. Time should have kindly seen to it that they no longer appealed to each other, yet they did.
"Jesus, you're more beautiful than ever. Did you know that?"
One of them had to be sensible. She carefully hid the pleasure brought about by his words and replied, "I'm forty-one years old, and I'm told constantly that I'm too thin. And the last two years, the last six months in particular, have put road maps on my face. It's not Rachel Hollis you think is beautiful, but Rachel Talmadge, the girl I stopped being twenty-four years ago. She's the one you came here to find."
"No. I didn't come here looking for her, only to talk about her and find out where she went and why. And why I never heard from her afterward."
Her eyes closed and he saw the flawless violet makeup tremble on her lids while he battled the urge to draw her into his arms, hold her close, and comfort her. And himself. But if he touched her, he knew she'd flee. Her deep brown eyes opened again and she asked quaveringly, "Why, Tommy Lee? Why now?"
"Because I couldn't wait another year. I've wasted too many already."
"But Owen--was
"Owen is gone. That's why I came."
She made a move as if to turn away, but he blocked her with his shoulder. "Rachel, I'm sorry if my timing is bad. I'm sorry if I haven't given you the proper time to mourn him, but I've put this off until I can't anymore. I'm forty-one, too, Rachel. Please understand."
She was afraid she was beginning to understand all too well. What he seemed to be saying was too shattering to contemplate this soon after Owen's death. He shouldn't even be here in her house, with his distinctive car parked out front where anyone and everyone could see it. Nor should he be broaching the subject that had been carefully avoided since
they were seventeen years old. 75
"I want to know what happened to you, Rachel."
She met his eyes squarely and challenged, "Ask your parents, Tommy Lee. They were in it with Daddy and Mama."
"I asked them years ago, but they would never tell me anything. Then after just so long, I stopped asking altogether. It's been years since I've talked to them."
"I know that, too." Impulsively she reached out to touch his arm, understanding fully what the estrangement must have cost all of them. "When will you decide you've made them suffer enough?"
"Never!" he spit out, and spun away, for her nearness brought too intense an ache. "Just as they've made me suffer all these years. I guess I'm not as ... as magnanimous as you are, Rachel. I can't forgive them and be their loving son again, like you forgave your parents."
The bitter feelings she'd had the day of the funeral, while gazing out the bedroom window, came back again, rife and fresh. It was rare that she let them take precedence, but they did now, and when they'd lodged like a thorn in her heart, she asked, "Don't you think there are times when I
feel bitter? When I still blame them? There are times when I have to guard myself against ... against hating them for what they did to us." Once the truth was spoken, Rachel
"I didn't come here to upset you, Rachel. Not at all. But my life is in a hell of a mess and I don't think it's going to get straightened out until I can talk to you about what happened." He touched her shoulder, making sure he didn't touch too hard. "Rachel, turn
around. I've been thinking of this day for ... 73 for years. And now you turn away. Please, Rachel."
She dropped her chin, sighed, then turned very slowly, allowing him to look at her at close range while similarly studying him. They were strangers, yet they knew each other well. Their past was best forgotten, yet it never would be. Time should have kindly seen to it that they no longer appealed to each other, yet they did.
"Jesus, you're more beautiful than ever. Did you know that?"
One of them had to be sensible. She carefully hid the pleasure brought about by his words and replied, "I'm forty-one years old, and I'm told constantly that I'm too thin. And the last two years, the last six months in particular, have put road maps on my face. It's not Rachel Hollis you think is beautiful, but Rachel Talmadge, the girl I stopped being twenty-four years ago. She's the one you came here to find."
"No. I didn't come here looking for her, only to talk about her and find out where she went and why. And why I never heard from her afterward."
Her eyes closed and he saw the flawless violet makeup tremble on her lids while he battled the urge to draw her into his arms, hold her close, and comfort her. And himself. But if he touched her, he knew she'd flee. Her deep brown eyes opened again and she asked quaveringly, "Why, Tommy Lee? Why now?"
"Because I couldn't wait another year. I've wasted too many already."
"But Owen--was
"Owen is gone. That's why I came."
She made a move as if to turn away, but he blocked her with his shoulder. "Rachel, I'm sorry if my timing is bad. I'm sorry if I haven't given you the proper time to mourn him, but I've put this off until I can't anymore. I'm forty-one, too, Rachel. Please understand."
She was afraid she was beginning to understand all too well. What he seemed to be saying was too shattering to contemplate this soon after Owen's death. He shouldn't even be here in her house, with his distinctive car parked out front where anyone and everyone could see it. Nor should he be broaching the subject that had been carefully avoided since
they were seventeen years old. 75
"I want to know what happened to you, Rachel."
She met his eyes squarely and challenged, "Ask your parents, Tommy Lee. They were in it with Daddy and Mama."
"I asked them years ago, but they would never tell me anything. Then after just so long, I stopped asking altogether. It's been years since I've talked to them."
"I know that, too." Impulsively she reached out to touch his arm, understanding fully what the estrangement must have cost all of them. "When will you decide you've made them suffer enough?"
"Never!" he spit out, and spun away, for her nearness brought too intense an ache. "Just as they've made me suffer all these years. I guess I'm not as ... as magnanimous as you are, Rachel. I can't forgive them and be their loving son again, like you forgave your parents."
The bitter feelings she'd had the day of the funeral, while gazing out the bedroom window, came back again, rife and fresh. It was rare that she let them take precedence, but they did now, and when they'd lodged like a thorn in her heart, she asked, "Don't you think there are times when I
feel bitter? When I still blame them? There are times when I have to guard myself against ... against hating them for what they did to us." Once the truth was spoken, Rachel
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