Lights and Shadows (Oregon In Love)

by Bonnie Blythe

  “I...need time to think about it. Can I let you know tomorrow?”

  “That’s fine. And Julia?”

  “Yes?”

  “Um, I’ll look forward to your call.”

  When Julia hung up the phone, she knew without a doubt her answer would be yes.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Julia glanced at her watch for the tenth time in as many minutes. Marc was due at any moment and together they would drive to the Portland International Airport.

  Together. The notion disturbed her and excited her at the same time. However, she planned to keep a tight rein on her emotions. No moping and mawing and wearing her heart on her sleeve. Marc had made his intentions known about a relationship with her. This was happening merely as a favor to Brian.

  That's all.

  Turning her attention to her belongings, she double-checked that she had everything she’d need for the trip. One full suitcase to get her there, and one empty suitcase to bring back full. The rest of her belongings she would mail from San Diego. She had also packed the sleeping medication Dr. Granger prescribed for her. Julia had a feeling she’d need it if she wanted to get any rest. Already, she felt jumpy at the thought of seeing Marc again after so long.

  The doorbell rang and Sara went to the door, stepping aside to let him enter. Julia's gaze connected with his as he walked into the living room. She felt like she’d sustained a blow to her solar plexus. This is going to be a long trip. She managed a cautious smile. Marc returned her smile and bent to pick up her bags. Julia gave Sara a hug and kissed Alan's soft cheek, then followed him out to his pickup.

  After stowing her luggage in the back, he opened the passenger door for her. Julia settled in the seat, breathing deeply of his once-familiar scent. Marc got in on the other side and steered the pickup away from the B & B.

  At first, the tension in the small confines of the cab was palpable. But as the miles went by, Julia started to relax until she was able to respond to a few polite sentences. In a way, she felt detached from the situation, as if looking at things from someone else’s perspective. She wondered idly how two people who had once been so close could treat each other like strangers. She clasped her hands in her lap and reminded herself to stop thinking about it.

  ***

  Marc looked over at Julia, who had her eyes closed and her head turned toward the airplane window. His gaze traveled along the soft curves of her face and throat. Even resting, she exhibited a quiet air of elegance. He wondered if she was really asleep or just ignoring him. He'd missed her so much, but had avoided contacting her after Brian told him of her health scare. She needed time to get well. Or so he'd told himself.

  As feelings of discouragement threatened to overwhelm him, he was reminded that it was a miracle she’d agreed to his company at all. He only had himself to blame for her coolness. But for the next week, he had a chance to see if there was any hope of rekindling things between them. He almost reached out to touch her before realizing he no longer had the right. He sent up a fervent prayer for wisdom and patience.

  An hour later, they neared the city. The first thing he noticed about their destination was the smog that sullied the horizon. When the plane touched down on the runway, Julia stirred and sat up in her seat to look out the window. Now that she was home, Marc wondered if she would regret her decision to move to Oregon.

  They disembarked, retrieved their luggage, and went out to her car she’d arranged to have waiting for them. Without a word, Julia unlocked the car and handed Marc the keys. Once they were both seated, he turned the key in the ignition and the Infiniti came smoothly to life. The lush vocals of Natalie Cole emanated from the speakers in the background while Julia directed him through the airport complex.

  Merging onto the freeway, he noticed with interest the ecological differences around him. Towering palm trees swayed in the breeze against a deep blue-brown sky. Despite the frenzied traffic, the photographer-side of him looked forward to exploring the surrounding areas through the lens of his camera.

  For the most part, Julia remained silent for the trip, only speaking when she needed to give him directions. Forty minutes later, he turned down a street that led to an affluent neighborhood. Spanish-style stucco homes with tiled roofs sat in beautifully landscaped yards.

  Julia pointed to one of the houses and he pulled into the drive. After opening her door, Marc retrieved their luggage from the trunk of the car and followed her into a saltillo-tiled breezeway. Two large terra cotta pots overflowing with fuchsia bougainvillea blooms flanked a wrought iron bench. Once they went through the double front doors, Julia tossed her keys onto an antique side-table just inside the entrance. She turned to Marc as he followed her in. Appearing infinitely weary, she pointed up a flight of stairs.

  “You can have the room to the right of the bathroom.”

  Marc set the luggage on the floor and took a deep breath. “I know we didn’t discuss sleeping arrangements. I can stay at a hotel or something nearby.”

  “There’s no hotel nearby,” she said in an emotionless voice. “But suit yourself.”

  “I...don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Julia. Or give the neighbors anything to talk about.”

  She gave a drawn smile. “I’m not really acquainted with any of my neighbors. Besides, most of them are probably like me—rarely home. But it’s up to you where you stay. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll keep my bedroom door locked.”

  Marc’s lips thinned in annoyance. She wasn’t making this easier for him. “Fine. Tell me where you want your bags.”

  “In the room to the left of the bathroom.”

  Before turning toward the stairs, he caught and held her gaze. After a moment, she looked away. Expelling a silent sigh, Marc took their bags up to the next level of the house. He deposited her luggage inside an expensively decorated bedroom done in earth tones, complemented by wood accents and large, potted plants. He took his bags to the next room, which was decorated in much the same way. If I stay in a hotel, I’ll be miles away. I can’t be very helpful if I’m not close at hand.

  Before returning downstairs, Marc paused to say another quick prayer, suddenly wondering what he’d gotten himself into.

  He took in the huge basket of tropical fruit in the middle of the gleaming black tiles of the kitchen counter. Thick glass-blown bottles of various colors glowed in the light from the window. The kitchen opened into a large living room lavishly appointed with caramel-colored leather furniture, beautifully restored antiques, and a jungle-like array of potted tropical plants reaching up toward skylights in the ceiling.

  Julia leaned against the kitchen counter, watching him, as if gauging his reaction to her home. “I’m pretty tired,” she said. “I’m going to my room to rest. There’s a bathroom downstairs as well.” Pointing into the living room, she continued. “And the TV and stereo are behind the doors of the armoire. Please make yourself at home.”

  Marc watched as she left the room. After making a call to Brian and Sara letting them know they'd arrived safely, he jammed his hands in his pockets and surveyed his surroundings. The decor was perfectly precise, like something out of a magazine. There were none of the touches that made a house homey. In spite of the warm colors and greenery, the effect felt cold and impersonal.

  Unsure of what to do next, he sat down on one of the couches. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed two picture frames on an end table he’d failed to see before. They seemed out of place in the impeccable design and ornamentation of the room. One held a photo of Brian and Sara on their wedding day. Marc picked up the other frame which held a photo of Brian and Julia on a beach. They looked young, maybe seventeen or eighteen. Brian was tan, buff, and had a cocky, defiant gleam in his eyes. One of his arms was around a surfboard and the other casually slung around his sister’s shoulders.

  Julia looked like the quintessential California girl. In a tank top and shorts, she was also tan and her long blonde hair, streaked lighter by the sun, lifted in the br
eeze. She wore the gracious smile he knew well and her green eyes glowed in her fresh, pretty face.

  Marc stared at the picture for a long time, thinking about the differences between the girl in the photo compared to the woman he’d come to know. While he considered her to be more beautiful than ever, her green eyes seemed older now, hinting at emotionally difficult experiences. As Marc replaced the frame on the table with a click, he realized he’d been partly responsible for the hurt in her life.

  Way to go, Dorin.

  ***

  Marc sat on the edge of the bed in the guest room, tinkering with a new Nikon camera he’d recently purchased. His stomach grumbled, distracting him, and he glanced at his watch. It was nearly seven o’clock in the evening and he hadn’t eaten since having breakfast back in his apartment in Oregon. He considered going down and peeking in the refrigerator but felt reasonably sure it was empty. Even the fruit bowl looked too much like art to eat from it.

  Julia had been resting for the entire afternoon. At least he assumed that was the case. He wouldn’t be surprised if she was really in there punching away on her laptop on some new important project.

  Hearing her bedroom door open, Marc replaced the cap on the lens of his camera and got up off the bed. Out in the hall, he saw her going down the stairs. When he said her name, she looked up and waited for him to come alongside her. “Did you get any rest?”

  “A little,” she said noncommittally.

  Marc followed her down the stairs and into the living room. She went over and perched on the edge of one of the couches. She seemed so small sitting there all alone and it was all he could do to remain where he was on the opposite couch.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked suddenly.

  Marc smiled. “Guilty.”

  “Well, there’s nothing much here to fix. I can make a call to order in some dinner.”

  Marc got up, retrieved her BlackBerry off the counter and brought it to where she sat.

  As she took it from his hand, she arched a brow. “You don’t have to act like my servant, you know.”

  “I just want you to get well, Julia.”

  Rolling her eyes, she punched a button on the phone. “Marty? This is Julia Wilcox. Yes, I know it’s been a while. I’ve been out of town. Good, and you? The usual, please. For two. Oh, and add a piece of that New York cheesecake. Okay, bye.”

  While she spoke, Marc suppressed a grin at the knowledge she had a restaurant number on speed dial. While they waited for their dinner, his attempt to engage her in small talk brought only unenthusiastic responses. He was relieved when the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get that.” A few moments later, Marc returned to the kitchen with several white bags, which emitted a heavenly fresh bread aroma. Ignoring her protests, he found plates and silverware and served up shrimp salad, hot, crusty bread and two bottles of mineral water.

  “I’m not an invalid,” Julia said as she sat on a stool at the counter. “And I’ll pay you back for the food.”

  “Get over it,” he said good-naturedly. “Now, eat your dinner.”

  Pretending not to notice her lowering expression, Marc munched on his salad. When he finished, and saw she had finished as well, he scooped up the plates and silverware and loaded them into the dishwasher. Coming back to the counter, he rested his chin in his hand and said, “Now, tell me more about your plans for the week.”

  Julia folded her hands on the opposite side. “Tomorrow, I need to go by the firm and clean out my desk. In the evening they’re having a farewell party for me. Tuesday, we drive to my mother’s to settle my lease and say my, er, goodbyes.”

  Marc raised a brow at her tone of voice, but she continued.

  “Wednesday, I pack, Thursday, we drive to Monterey to see my dad, we stay until Friday, then he takes us to the San Jose airport. From there we go back to Portland.” As if speaking suddenly tired her, she sighed.

  “You’ll need to let me know how I can help, okay?”

  Looking distinctly uncomfortable at the prospect, she nodded. “Thank you. And by the way, the cheesecake is for you. That dinner was fairly light. I don’t want you to starve.”

  Marc went to the refrigerator with alacrity. “Are you sure you don’t want some?”

  Julia shook her head while Marc placed the slice on a clean plate. He tried to eat it slowly, especially since he could feel her attention upon him. When he finished, he smiled. “That was great. Would you mind if I licked the plate?”

  Julia smiled at his remark, but seeing she was obviously exhausted, Marc decided not to tease her anymore. Instead, he said goodnight and went up to his room.

  ***

  Once Marc was out of sight, Julia put her head in her arms resting on the counter. How, oh how did she think she was going to survive this week? Having Marc just a few feet away for the next several days would surely try her sanity.

  The brief hope he was helping to renew their relationship fizzled and died. If that was the case, all he had to do was take her in his arms. She’d go without resistance. But his politeness, even his indifferent friendliness, brought her to the conclusion he offered to help as a way of doing a favor for Brian. That was all.

  If she marched up to his room this minute, told him she loved him, and he rejected her once again, she’d have no choice but to...join the Foreign Legion. Besides, she had promised herself she wouldn’t force herself on him or any other man. Julia squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for strength to endure the next week.

  And Brian thought this was helping?

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The following morning, Marc arose early and decided to go for a run before beginning the itinerary of the day. After dressing in shorts, T-shirt, and running shoes, he went down the hall and raised his hand to knock softly on Julia’s door. When he found the door standing open, he peeked inside and saw she still slept. Seeing her sprawled diagonally on the bed with the blankets half on and half off was an amazing sight for someone who seemed the epitome of poise when awake.

  Marc went into the kitchen, left her a note, and headed outside. An hour later after an enjoyable run, he returned to the house and went upstairs. Unable to resist checking on Julia once again, he peered into her room where she continued to sleep. It suddenly dawned on him she was in the exact same position she’d been in when he left.

  His heart thudded duly in his chest as an awful thought entered his brain. Marc pushed open the door and crossed to the bed. He reached out to check for a pulse. Suddenly, she emitted a small groan and shifted, covering her eyes with her arm.

  Breathing heavily, Marc backed out of her room and went into the guest room. Despite the fact Julia wasn’t recovering from a life-threatening illness, for a split-second he’d imagined the worst. And it suddenly brought to the fore his foolishness for not confessing his love for her while he had the chance.

  ***

  The tantalizing aroma of fresh cinnamon rolls must have roused Julia, because she ventured downstairs shortly after they arrived. Marc thought she looked fairly rested and as usual, incredibly lovely when she entered the kitchen.

  “I’m adapting to life in Southern California quite well,” he said, hoping to coax a smile out of her.

  “Oh, really? And how’s that?”

  “I called a bakery using the speed dial on your phone and violá, these arrived as if by magic at the front door.”

  Julia smiled and nibbled her lip, raising her brows when she saw the box of rolls on the counter.

  “Don’t you know how unhealthy those things are? I suppose at home you eat Lucky Charms and Fruity Pebbles.”

  Marc grinned, thrilled he’d achieved his objective. “These are made from whole wheat flour.”

  Julia didn’t seem convinced. “They sure are messy,” she said, watching him lick the sugary frosting off his fingers. She approached him and gently ran her finger along his chin. “You have frosting on your face,” she said softly.

  Marc stared at her, wanting nothing more than to sna
ke his arm around her waist and kiss her until she was as breathless as he felt. But he held back, worried it might be too much, too soon. He wanted to be sure of her. He wanted a guarantee she would take him back.

  Coward.

  “Julia,” he said, his voice deeper than usual.

  Quickly stepping around to the other side of the kitchen counter, she sent him a guileless look. “Yes?”

  “Was there a specific time you wanted to leave?”

  She glanced at her wristwatch. “How about now?”

  ***

  Julia wondered if she’d run mad. That little episode in the kitchen this morning with Marc was over the top. What had she been thinking? Where were her principles? What happened to her decision to not push him in any way? Obviously, it’s easier said than done.

  Crossing her arms over her chest to keep from reaching out to Marc, she peered up through her lashes at where he sat behind the wheel of the Infinity. They were en route to a small get-together hosted by her boss, Lawrence Steiner, the senior member of her now ex-consulting firm. Earlier in the day, she’d gone to the office to clean out her desk. The task had been surprisingly easy, accomplished with little regret. Julia had to admit to a growing excitement at the new direction her life was taking. And while she wasn’t yet sure where that direction would take her, she knew God was in control.

  They pulled alongside the curb in front of Mr. Steiner’s home and parked, and once again Julia found herself admiring the man beside her. He wore a black sport coat over a black shirt, open at the neck, along with black slacks. The shagginess of his hair gave him a slightly raffish air and Julia suddenly wondered if the other women at the party would think he was fair game. She frowned at the thought.