“I promise to take the very best care of her.”
Gloria grinned, looking sheepish for having suggested anything else. “You’re sure you don’t mind?”
“I don’t mind in the least. I don’t think Katie does, either. Is that right, Katie?”
“Why?”
“Are you really sure? Okay, then…” Once she’d made a token protest Gloria raced off to join her friends.
Katie was content to skip and hop at Maryanne’s side until they reached a huge pile of leaves under a chestnut tree, not far from the basketball court. Almost before Maryanne realized it, Katie raced toward the leaves, bunching as many as she could in her small arms and carrying them back to Maryanne as though presenting her with the rarest of jewels.
“Look,” she cried happily. “Leafs.”
“Leaves,” Maryanne corrected, bending over and grabbing an armful herself. She tossed them in the air and grinned as Katie leapt up to catch as many as she could and in the process dropped the armload she was holding.
Laughing, Maryanne clasped the child by the waist and swung her around, while Katie shrieked with delight. Dizzy, Maryanne leaned against the tree in an effort to regain her equilibrium and her breath.
It was then that she saw Nolan had stopped playing and was standing in the middle of the basketball court, staring at her. The game was going on all around him, boys scattering in one direction and then another, racing to one end of the court and back again. Nolan seemed oblivious to them and to the game—to everything but her.
A tall boy bumped into him from behind and Nolan stumbled. Maryanne gasped, fearing he might fall, but he caught himself in time. Without a pause, he rejoined the game, racing down the court at breakneck speed. He stole the ball and made a slam dunk, coming down hard on the pavement.
Gloria ran back toward Maryanne and Katie. “I thought you said you and Mr. Adams were just friends?” she teased. She was grinning in a way that suggested she wasn’t about to be fooled again. “He nearly got creamed because he couldn’t take his eyes off you.”
With Katie on her lap, Maryanne sat beside the teenage girls watching the game. Together she and the three-year-old became Nolan’s personal cheering squad, but whether or not he appreciated their efforts she didn’t know. He didn’t give a single indication that he heard them.
When the game was finished, Nolan walked breathlessly off the court. His grey sweatshirt was stained with perspiration, and his face was red and damp from the sheer physical exhaustion of keeping up with kids half his age.
For an anxious moment, Maryanne assumed he was planning to ignore her and simply walk away. But after he’d stopped at the water fountain, he came over to the bench where she and Katie were sitting.
He slumped down beside her, dishevelled and still breathing hard. “What are you doing here?” he grumbled.
“I happened to be in the park,” she answered, feeling self-conscious now and unsure. “You don’t need to worry, Nolan. I didn’t follow you.”
“I didn’t think you had.”
“You look nice in blue,” he said hoarsely, then cleared his throat as if he hadn’t meant to say that, as if he wanted to withdraw the words.
“Thanks.” The blue sweater was one of her favorites. She’d worn her long wool coat and was surprised he’d even noticed the periwinkle-blue sweater beneath.
“Hello, Katie.”
Katie beamed, stretching out both arms for Nolan to lift her up, which he did. The little girl hugged him quickly, then leapt off the bench and ran to her sister, who stood talking to her boyfriend.
“You’re good with children,” Nolan said. His voice fell slightly, as though the fact surprised him.
“I do have a knack with them. I always have.” She’d been much-sought as a babysitter by her parents’ friends and for a time had considered becoming a teacher. If she’d pursued that field of study she would have preferred to teach kindergarten. She found five-year-olds, with their eagerness to learn about the world, delightful. A couple of articles she’d written the week before were geared toward children’s magazines. If only she’d hear something soon. It seemed to take so long.
“How many years of your life did you lose this time?” Maryanne asked teasingly.
“Another two or three, at least.”
He smiled at her and it was that rare special smile he granted her only in those brief moments when his guard was lowered. His resistance to the attraction he felt to her was at its weakest point, and they both knew it.
Maryanne went still, almost afraid to move or speak for fear of ruining the moment. His eyes, so warm and gentle, continued to hold hers. When she tried to breathe, the air seemed to catch in her lungs.
“Maryanne.” Her name was little more than a whisper.
“Yes?”
He raked his hand through his hair, then looked away. “Nothing. Never mind.”
“What is it?” she pressed, unwilling to let the matter drop.
The muscles along the side of his jaw clenched. “I said it was nothing,” he answered gruffly.
Maryanne gazed down at her hands, feeling an overwhelming sense of frustration and despair. The tension between them was so thick she could practically touch it, but nothing she could say or do would make any difference. If anything, her efforts would only make it worse.
“Hey, Nolan,” Eddie called out, loping toward them. “What’s with you, man?” He laughed, tossing his basketball from one hand to the other. “You nearly lost that game ’cause you couldn’t take your eyes off your woman.”
Nolan scowled at him. “You looking for a rematch?”
“Any time you want.”
“Not today.” Shaking his head, Nolan slowly pushed the sleeves of his sweatshirt past his elbows.
“Right,” Eddie said with a knowing laugh. “I didn’t think so, with your woman here and all.”
“Maryanne isn’t my woman,” Nolan informed him curtly, his frown darkening.
“Right,” Eddie responded. “Hey, dude, this is me, Eddie. Can’t fool me! You practically went comatose when you saw her. I don’t blame you, though. She ain’t bad. So when are you two getting married?”
CHAPTER NINE
“I’ve changed my mind,” Barbara announced at closing time Monday evening.
Maryanne was busy refilling the salt and pepper shakers and reloading the napkin holders. “About what?” she asked absently, stuffing napkins into the small chrome canisters.
“You and Nolan.”
If Barbara hadn’t had Maryanne’s attention earlier, she did now. Nolan had left the restaurant about forty minutes earlier, after having his customary meal of chili and coffee. He’d barely said two words to Maryanne the whole time he was there. He’d buried his face in the evening edition of the Sun and done a brilliant job of pretending he didn’t know her.
“What about us?” Maryanne’s expression might have remained aloof, but her heart was pounding furiously.
“Since the night of our pity party, I’ve had a change of heart. You’re exactly the right kind of woman for Nolan. The two of you…balance each other. At first I agreed with Carol. My opinion of Nolan isn’t as negative as hers, but you have to remember that those two work for rival papers. At any rate, I was concerned. You are really sweet.”
Maryanne winced at the “sweet.” It rather sounded as though friendship with her was like falling into a jar of honey.
“And now?”
“I don’t know exactly what changed my mind. Partly it was watching Nolan when he was here. I got quite a kick out of him.”
“How do you mean?”
Barbara’s grin was broad as she continued to wipe the counter. “I swear that man couldn’t keep his eyes off you.”
Maryanne was puzzled. “What are you talking abou
t? Nolan didn’t look my way even once.”
“Oh, he’d scowl every time you were close, but behind that cross expression of his was an intensity I’ve never seen in him before. It was like he had to come in and get his daily fix of you.”
Maryanne’s heart couldn’t decide whether to lift with happiness or sink with doubt. “You’re wrong. Other than ordering his meal, he didn’t speak to me at all. I might as well have been a robot.”
“That’s what he’d like you to believe.”
“He was reading the paper,” Maryanne said. “The same way he reads it every time he comes here.”
“Correction,” Barbara said, and her face broke into a spontaneous smile. “He pretended to be reading the paper, but when you weren’t looking his eyes were following you like a hawk.”
“Oh, Barbara, really?” It seemed almost more than she dared hope for. He’d hardly spoken to her in the past few days, and he seemed to be avoiding her. The kids in the park had taken to teasing them about being “in love” and asking pointed questions, and Nolan had practically fallen all over himself denying that they were anything other than friends.
“It’s more than just the way he was watching you,” Barbara said, slipping on to a stool. “Have you read his columns the past couple of weeks?”
Naturally Maryanne had, more impressed by his work every time she did. The range of his talent and the power of his writing were unmistakable. Within a few years, if not sooner, she expected his newspaper column to be picked up for syndication.
“Lately, I’ve noticed something unusual about his writing,” Barbara said, still clutching the dishrag. “That cynical edge of his—it isn’t quite as sharp. His writing’s less sarcastic now. I heard one of my customers comment earlier today that Nolan’s going soft on us. I hadn’t thought about it much until then, but Ernie’s right. I don’t know what’s made the difference, but I figure it must be love. Oh, I doubt there’s much in this life that’s going to change Nolan Adams. He’ll always be stubborn as a mule, headstrong and temperamental. That’s just part of his nature. But mark my words, he’s in love.”
“What you said earlier, about us being so different…”
“You are, with you so nice and all, and Nolan such a grouch. At least he likes to pretend he’s one. You and I know better, but most folks don’t.”
“And?” Maryanne probed.
“And, well, it seems to me the two of you fit together perfectly. Like two pieces of a puzzle.”
It seemed that way to Maryanne, too.
“You heard, didn’t you?” Barbara muttered, abruptly changing the subject.
Maryanne nodded. Mom’s Place was going to close in a month for remodelling.
“What are you going to do?”
Maryanne didn’t know yet. “Find a temporary job, I suppose. What about you?” By then, she should have sold a few of the articles she’d submitted. At least she hadn’t been rejected yet. She should be hearing any time.
“I’m not that worried about taking a month or so off work,” Barbara returned, her look thoughtful. “I could use a vacation, especially over the holidays. I was thinking of staying home and baking Christmas gifts this year. My fudge is out of this world.”
“I suppose I should start looking for another job now.” Maryanne was already worried about meeting expenses. Mom’s Place couldn’t have chosen a worse time to close.
* * *
A half hour later, she was waiting for the bus, her mind spinning with what Barbara had said. The diner’s closing was a concern, but Barbara’s comments about Nolan gladdened Maryanne’s heart.
Nolan did feel something for her, something more powerful than he’d let on.
She supposed she should confront him with it, force him to acknowledge his feelings. A brief smile crossed her lips as she envisioned what would happen if she actually did such a thing. She nearly laughed out loud at the thought.
Nolan would deny it, of course, loudly and vehemently, and she’d have to counteract with a loud argument of her own. The smile appeared again. Her decision was made.
Feeling almost light-headed, Maryanne glanced down the street, eager for the bus to arrive so she could get home. The first thing she intended to do was march into Nolan’s apartment and demand the truth. If he tried to ignore her, as he usually did, then she had the perfect solution.
She’d kiss him.
A kiss would silence his protests in the most effective way she could imagine. Maryanne almost melted at the memory of being kissed by Nolan, being held in his arms. It was like walking through the gates of an undiscovered paradise. Just remembering those moments made her feel faint with desire, weak with excitement. He seemed to experience the same emotions, Maryanne remembered hopefully.
Cheered by the thought, she nearly applauded when her bus arrived. The ride passed quickly and she hurried into the building, eager to see Nolan.
Consumed by her sense of purpose, she went directly to his apartment. She stood in front of his door, took several deep breaths, then knocked politely. No answer. She tried again, harder this time.
“Who is it?” Nolan growled from the other side.
“Maryanne. I want to talk to you.”
“I’m busy.”
She was only a little discouraged by his unfriendliness. “This’ll just take a minute.”
The door was yanked open with excessive force. Nolan stood before her, dressed in a black tuxedo and white cummerbund, looking so handsome that he caught her completely by surprise. Her mouth sagged open.
“Yes?” he asked crossly.
“Hello, Nolan,” she said, aware that her mission had been thwarted. Nothing he could’ve said or done would have affected her as profoundly as finding him dressed like this. Because it meant he was going out on a date.
“Hello,” he said, tugging at the cuffs of his jacket, adjusting the fit. He frowned, apparently waiting for her to say something.
“Uh…” She tried to gather her scattered composure, and finally managed to squeak, “You’re going out?”
He scowled. “I don’t dress like this for a jaunt to the corner store.”
“No, I don’t suppose you do.”
“You wanted something?”
She’d been so confident, so sure she was doing the right thing. But now, seeing Nolan looking more dressed up and formal than he’d ever looked for her, she found herself speechless.
She couldn’t help wondering where he was going—and with whom. The “with whom” part bothered her the most.
He glanced pointedly at his wristwatch. “How long is this going to take?” he asked coolly. “I’m supposed to pick up Prudence in fifteen minutes.”
“Prudence?” His face, tight with impatience, drew her full attention. Prudence, her mind repeated. Who was this woman?
Then in a flash, Maryanne knew. It was all she could do not to laugh and inform him that his little plan just wasn’t working. No imaginary date was going to make her jealous.
He wasn’t seeing anyone named Prudence. Good grief, if he had to invent a name, the least he could’ve done was come up with something a little more plausible than Prudence.
In fact, Maryanne remembered Nolan casually mentioning a week or so earlier that he’d been asked to speak at a Chamber of Commerce banquet. There had also been a notice in the paper. Who did he think he was kidding?
Of course he wanted her to believe he was dating another woman. That was supposed to discourage her, she guessed. Except that it didn’t.
“It wasn’t important…” she said, gesturing vaguely. “The radiators were giving me trouble this morning, but I’ll manage. I was planning to go out tonight myself.”
His eyes connected with hers. “Another pity party?”
“Not this time.” She considered announcing she h
ad a hot date herself, but that would have been carrying this farce a little too far. “Barbara and I will probably go to a movie.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“I’m sure it will be.” She smiled up at him, past the square cut of his jaw to his incredibly dark eyes. “Have a good time with… Prudence,” she said with a bright knowing smile.
Holding back a laugh, she returned to her own apartment. The rat. The low-down dirty rat! He was pretending to escort some imaginary woman to a fancy affair. Oh, he’d like nothing better than for Maryanne to think he considered her a pest. But she knew that wasn’t quite the case.
Where was the man who’d rushed to her rescue when the pipes needed a little coaxing? Where was the man who’d nearly been run over on a basketball court when he saw her standing on the sidelines? Where was the man who’d tried to set her up with someone else he thought more suitable? Nolan Adams had just proved what she’d suspected all along. He was a coward—at least when it came to love.
Suddenly depressed, Maryanne slowly crossed the living room and sank on to her sofa, trying to gather her wits. Ten minutes later, she still sat there, mulling things over and feeling sorry for herself, when she heard Nolan’s door open and close. She immediately perked up, wondering if he’d had a change of heart. He seemed to pause for a moment outside her door, but any second thoughts he might be having didn’t last long.
Barbara phoned soon after, full of apologies, to cancel their movie plans, so Maryanne spent the evening drowning her sorrows in television reruns and slices of cold pizza.
She must have fallen asleep because a harsh ringing jolted her awake a couple of hours later. She leapt off the sofa and stumbled dazedly around before she realized the sound came from the phone. She rushed across the room.
A greeting had barely left her lips when her father’s booming voice assailed her.
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