“Actually, yes. Once I could think straight, I remembered I’ve been wanting to take you to the Saturday Market.”
At her questioning look, he smiled. “Trust me, you’ll love it.”
Julia liked his enthusiasm, but her mind stuck on the word love.
***
After finding a parking place, they walked hand in hand for several blocks. Julia found it difficult to tear her attention away from Marc’s face. It was some time before she became aware of the increasing number of people crowding the walkways.
She turned her attention to her surroundings. Marc’s words proved true when she took in the sight of booths of arts and crafts. As they passed several booths, she saw handcrafted pottery, jewelry, tie-dyed underwear, and all manner of wonderful, funky items for sale by professional and not-so-professional artisans. Somewhere nearby the plaintive tones of old-time fiddle music mingled in the air with a reggae beat.
They spent hours lingering, inspecting, and talking about non-serious subjects—as if they had an unspoken agreement to avoid reality. At a booth specializing in original sterling silver designs, Julia had fun trying on a few semi-precious encrusted bracelets and rings, but refrained from purchasing anything. If her spending were to match her mood, she’d be broke by the end of the day.
Soon the breeze brought with it the tempting aromas of food. Marc noticed as well because he leaned down and whispered in her ear. “I guess we forgot to have breakfast.”
Julia smiled, knowing her cheeks were flaming. At a booth featuring Greek food, Julia chose a salad with tomatoes, olives, and feta cheese. Marc got a veggie pita, and they lunched in the shadow of the Burnside Bridge under which the market was held.
“You know,” said Julia after lunch, “There’s something about Portland that reminds me of San Diego, minus the smog.”
“And plus the rain.”
“That’s true. It does seem to rain an awful lot, but it’s nice to see more green than brown. I really like it here.”
Marc’s eyes shone as he brought her hand to his lips. The look there made her catch her breath. Somewhere in the distance she heard the strains of a familiar romantic tune, which drove home the realization that she had fallen in love with this man.
Chapter Fifteen
Early the next morning, Julia quietly entered the main house for a cup of coffee. She found her brother moving slowly around the kitchen. His hair stuck up all over his head and he badly needed a shave. His hello sounded more like a rumble.
Julia waved him into a chair and took over the coffee preparations. “Long night?”
Brian cast a bloodshot look in her direction.
“Am I correct to assume little Alan kept you up most of the night?”
Brian grunted. “With a vengeance. You wouldn’t believe the volume of sound that can come out of such a small package.”
“How’s Sara doing?”
“She’s pretty tired. I think all the visitors wore her out. Hattie will be over here some time today to stay and help out, and several women from church will be doing meals. So between hired help and friends and family, we should get Alan settled in, and hopefully on some kind of routine.” He made the last statement while rubbing his face.
“Just make sure Sara gets plenty of rest,” she said. “She won’t be able to if a lot of people are coming and going.”
Julia brought him a cup of coffee and sat down opposite him at the table. “I read in one of her books that it’s helpful for the new mom to wear a bathrobe while she has visitors. If she’s dressed and up and around, people will be inclined to stay longer, which will only make her more tired.”
“Thanks. I’ll let her know.” Brian took a long drink of his coffee. “So, what are your plans for the day?”
Julia kept her expression bland. “I’m going to church.”
“Oh, then could you tell Pastor McKenzie that I won’t be able to help with ushering today?”
Lightly clearing her throat, she took a breath. “I’m going to a different church, but I’ll be glad to make a call for you.”
“Which church?”
“I’m not exactly sure what the name of it is.” She lowered her eyes. “It’s in Portland.”
Brian leaned back in his chair. “So, you’re going with Marc?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Well, when you see him today, tell him to give me a call. I still need to get some more details about that equipment rack he wants built.”
“You’re making an assumption,” she said, piqued.
“But I’m right.”
Julia felt heat rise in her cheeks.
“What are you being so defensive about?”
“I’m not being defensive.”
Brian drained his coffee cup and stood up. “You just don’t want to admit someone finally got under your skin. Personally, I couldn’t be more pleased.”
“Brian, if this mug wasn’t full of coffee, I’d throw it at that smug expression of yours.”
“Does Marc know about your appalling temper yet? Maybe I should caution him.”
She pursed her lips. “I’m warning you.”
Brian patted her head. “Just let me know when the wedding is.”
“No one’s talking about any weddings,” she said in a thin voice.
Brian stretched his arms high above his head. “Whatever.” Striding from the room, he turned. “Thanks for perking me up this morning.”
Julia looked about for a handy missile but he disappeared into his room before she could find anything.
As she went back to the cottage, she thought about his words. Last night, she’d gone as far as admitting to herself she was in love with Marc. She hadn’t dared allow her thoughts to go any further, but now that the word wedding was out in the open, her heart swelled with an uneasy—and terrifying—yearning.
***
After visiting the hospital and chatting with Sara for a few minutes to assure herself all was well, Julia headed up to Portland. She went into Marc’s building and knocked on his door. A few minutes later, he opened it, appearing freshly showered but sleepy, wearing a T shirt and sweat pants.
“I’m afraid I slept in,” he said with a groggy smile.
“I’m glad somebody got some rest,” she said thinking of her restless night.
He ushered her inside and closed the door. “How are you this morning?”
“I’d be better if you kissed me,” she whispered, feeling brave and anxious at the same time. A look of relief flitted across his feature as he pulled her into his arms. She gave herself over to the sweetness of his lingering kisses.
He raised his head and spoke in a hoarse voice. “Oh man, we’re going to be late!”
Julia stifled a smile as he rushed into his room to change. While she waited, she wandered about the living room, looking at all the pictures on the wall—some his work, and some done by other artists.
A few minutes later, he reappeared wearing black pants and an indigo dress shirt. He shrugged into a black jacket and hastened her out the door.
The commute brought them into an older, well-kept neighborhood that reminded Julia of English country gardens. Stately homes presided over lush green lawns, amid riotous blooms of flowers and bushes. The church, built from old stone, was beautiful. Inside, the stained glass windows depicted the life of Christ, complemented by massive wooden arches that drew one’s attention heavenward. She could see how such a sanctuary would appeal to Marc’s aesthetic sensibilities.
Gentlemanly ushers greeted them as they selected a pew near the back. Marc put his arm around her. Julia nestled against his side, aware she was becoming needful of his touch. She was intrigued that he would choose a church as formal as this, populated by primarily older saints and established families. Most Christians she knew frequented younger, more trendy congregations.
The worship began, aided only by an organ. Julia, used to a live worship band with a full complement of instruments, was surprised how completely the
reverent hymns hushed her soul. She closed her eyes, humming softly, irresistibly drawn near to the Lord. The gentle tugging of the familiar lyrics revealed an old ache in her soul—something she struggled with, but couldn’t name. How can I admit to an unexplainable hunger inside me? Isn’t that like saying God isn’t sufficient? She’d always concentrated on pleasing God with her life. Times like this, when she felt there was still something missing, when perfect peace seemed just out of her grasp, left her bewildered. It just doesn’t make any sense!
Julia fought against the heat developing behind her eyes. I don’t want to cry. I’m so tired of crying. Fear of losing emotional control made it difficult for her to fully surrender all to the Lord. She clenched her hands in her lap and prayed. Help me try harder, God, with all my heart, I want to be a pleasure to you.
The music ended. Julia opened her eyes and glanced up at Marc. When she saw the tender concern in his eyes, she almost lost it again. He took her hand in his and caressed her fingers with his thumb. She managed a small smile and turned her attention to the rest of the service, hoping this feeling of vulnerability would pass.
After an encouraging sermon by a venerable, white-haired pastor, the congregation was dismissed. They were quickly approached by several of the parishioners. Speculative comments and praise by smartly dressed matrons that Marc was ‘such a nice young man’ kept them occupied for quite a while. Julia stopped trying to remember all the names of those she shook hands with.
On their way out to his truck, she couldn’t resist teasing just a little. “‘fess up, Marc. How many dinners have you been corralled into by sweet grandmas trying to fix you up with their granddaughters?”
He grinned and refused to comment.
They had lunch in a nearby restaurant, and afterwards drove to a park in an area he said was noted for its many weeping willow trees and verdant vegetation. They sat on an old wrought iron park bench and talked while the breeze tugged locks free from the confines of the pins in her hair. After a while, Marc lapsed into silence and studied her face.
“Can I take your picture?” he said at last.
She pulled a strand of hair from her eyes, unsure whether to be nervous or flattered. “Okay.”
He stood up.
Julia put out her hand. “Right now?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Chiaroscuro.”
She sent him a puzzled look. “Is that an Italian word?”
Marc pulled his keys out of his pocket. “Yes.”
“What does it mean?”
He studied the surroundings with a photographer’s eye. “Lights and shadows.”
As he walked over to his truck, she glanced around, trying to see what he saw. Bright sunlight shimmered through the lacy leaves of the willow trees, dappling her form with a movement of patterned light.
Marc returned, shrugging out of his jacket, and unloaded his tripod and camera case. He set it up on the sidewalk a short distance from her. Julia sat patiently while he went through all the motions of preparing for a shoot. She glanced down at her sheer white poet’s blouse worn over a white camisole, combined with a plum colored linen skirt, and hoped it was a suitable look for what he had in mind.
When he appeared to be satisfied with his equipment, he walked up to her. “Are you sure you don’t mind this?”
“Actually, I abhor having my picture taken, but for you, I’ll make an exception.”
Marc smiled and lightly traced the curve of her jaw with his fingertips. Then he bent down and brushed a feather soft kiss against her lips.
Dazed from the sweetness of his touch, Julia watched as he went behind the camera and pressed the shutter release. The electronic whir of automatically advancing film was the only sound beside the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze. She did her best to appear relaxed, but was unable to look at the camera for long. Trying to bring her galloping pulse under control, she turned away and absently noticed a few people in the distance walking their dogs.
Marc came up and repositioned her arms. She tolerated it, glad she could be so close to him, but after an extended time of fussing about, Julia grew impatient and pulled him down onto the bench next to her. “Enough. I need another kiss to sustain me before you take any more pictures.”
With a soft laugh, Marc pulled her close. His kiss, light and teasing, ignited unexpectedly and soon she was lost to the world, anchored in the velvet haven of his arms. The sound of his camera whirring brought her back to reality with a start. Julia eased from his embrace and looked up.
A woman holding the leash of a little white dog stood near the camera and shrugged. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist.” With a cheeky wave, she set off down the sidewalk.
“Did she take a picture of us?” Julia asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Marc got up to examine his camera, and gave her an apologetic grin. “Yep. Luckily, I do all my own developing.”
Julia groaned, embarrassed to be caught kissing in public.
He coaxed her into letting him finish exposing the roll. With that done, he loaded his equipment back into his truck.
“Are you ready to go?”
She nodded.
“Do you want to come with me to get these developed?”
Julia gave him a sidelong glance, wondering if she could bear to part from him at all. “Okay.”
In an industrial area of town, not far from his apartment, Marc pulled up alongside a brick warehouse. He unlocked an unmarked door and stood aside to let her enter. It was dark and smelled musty and stale.
“What is this place?”
“There’s a darkroom here that I share with another photographer. We split the rent. My apartment is just too small for me to use for developing.”
“Doesn’t everyone do digital photography now? You don’t need a darkroom for that.”
“I do have a digital camera, but for some things, I still prefer doing it the old fashioned way.”
He unlocked another door, and they entered a room furnished with a couple of chairs and stacks of boxes labeled with words Julia guessed to be names of chemicals. If she’d been with anyone else, she’d feel very creepy about being in such a place.
Marc flipped a switch and all the shadows fled. A small door on the right posted a hand-written sign that said knock first! He turned the handle and went right in, closing it once Julia was inside.
“You forgot to knock,” she teased.
“We’re the only ones here. The other photographer is on an assignment in Alaska.”
He turned on a light, bathing the room in an eerie red glow. Julia remained silent as she observed him remove the strip of film from the canister. Watching the meticulous way he worked was satisfying to a perfectionist like herself. First Marc developed the negatives and inspected them by holding them up to the light. Next, using an enlarger, he transferred the images from the negatives to specially coated paper. Absorbed in his task, he didn’t explain the process, and she was content to let him work without chatter.
“Come here,” he said. “This is the fun part.”
Standing shoulder to shoulder with him, Julia watched a black and white image of herself appear on the paper submerged in a tray of developer. When the appropriate contrast had been achieved, he moved the print into the fixer bath. One by one, he developed each print until they were all done. After the prints were hung on the line and the tiny room tidied, he turned on the regular light.
The sudden brightness made Julia wince after the soft, intimate dimness. In the light, Marc examined each print. Julia peered around his shoulder at the prints, and felt chagrined to see the look of unabashed love radiating from her eyes. Did he see it as well? And the picture of them on the park bench was even more disconcerting. If she’d seen a couple act with such abandon in public, she probably would’ve deemed it improper behavior. Yikes.
Noticing him frown slightly, Julia cleared her throat. “Do they pass muster?”
Marc turned to her with a
n odd expression. He spoke in a tight voice she’d never heard him use before. “They’re perfect, of course. I’m sure you’re told often enough that you’re beautiful.”
She averted her eyes in confusion. Doesn’t he know it doesn’t mean anything unless it comes from someone you care about? “Not really,” she said finally. Julia bit her lip, made uneasy by the vibes she sensed coming from him. The darkroom suddenly seemed cramped. She had a mad desire to escape.
As if reading her mind, Marc opened the door and let her out. He followed her through the second door and out onto the street. A chill wind flew down the block, blowing a page of newspaper against his leg. He kicked it away before opening the door of his truck for her.
The drive passed in silence. Julia wracked her brain trying to figure out what had changed between them. And something definitely was wrong. She saw a muscle twitch in Marc’s jaw as he gripped the steering wheel.
After arriving back at his apartment, in a voice void of enthusiasm, he asked if she wanted to come in. Too insecure in the newness of their relationship, she didn’t feel she could ask him the reason for his strange behavior. “I should probably get back and see how Sara’s doing.”
Marc gave a curt nod and walked her to her Camry. She hesitated before getting in the car, hoping he’d say something to alleviate the tension. Suddenly he reached out and pulled her into his arms. As his lips met hers, Julia sensed a desperation in his kiss—and somehow it felt like goodbye. She grew cold at the thought.
Before completely pulling away, he let his mouth graze her temple. Then, putting his hands in his pockets, he stepped away, leaving nothing for Julia to do but get in her car and go.
Chapter Sixteen
As soon as Julia’s car was out of sight, Marc trudged up the stairs to his apartment and changed into a T-shirt and shorts. He pulled on his running shoes and jerked the lace so hard, it snapped in his hand.
It took him a while to locate a replacement shoestring, which did nothing to improve his mood. When finally ready to go out, he grabbed his iPod. Turning up the volume louder than was probably safe, he left his building and began his usual five-mile run.
Lights and Shadows (Oregon In Love) Page 11