A Walk in the Garden

by Karen Guffey

CHAPTER SEVEN

  In spite of her lack of sleep, Marie awoke early the next morning. She couldn't wait to go to the shore. After her walk through the garden, Rick wanted to go back to bed for a while, but she begged him to leave right away. Excitedly she put on her bathing suit, glad that there was no full-length mirror in her room. Rick had assured her that her bathing suit was very modest for 2011, but she still felt apprehensive as she stepped into the hall. "Rick! Are you ready?"

  "Just a second."

  He came out moments later in shorts and a shirt. "You're not ready!" she exclaimed in disappointment.

  He gazed at her for a few seconds, his eyes taking in every delicious curve, before replying, "I am ready. These are my swimming trunks."

  "And you swim with the shirt on?"

  "I'll take it off when we get there." How could she be so small and have such an incredible body?

  Marie glanced down at herself self-consciously. "You said that this was very modest."

  "It is."

  "Then why are you looking at me like that?"

  He swallowed. "I've never seen anyone who looks as good as you in one."

  She smiled then, reaching for his hand. "Come on--let's go."

  "Wait. You need to put on shorts and a shirt over your bathing suit."

  "Oh. OK." She went to do as he said.

  Marie had been to the shore before, but it had been years ago. Her father didn't think it was appropriate for a young woman of her position to be parading around half naked. If only he could see her now, she thought with a grin as she took off her shirt and shorts.

  There were only a handful of other people on the beach. Rick and Marie went for a stroll--or rather, Rick strolled while Marie ran into and out of the surf. When they returned to their blanket an hour later, she was tired enough to be talked into sunbathing for a while.

  "Put some of this lotion all over your skin so you won't get burned." Rick handed her a bottle.

  "Mmm. It smells like coconut pie."

  She rubbed it all over her exposed skin and then stretched out on her stomach. Rick took the bottle. "I'll rub some on your back."

  "Oh." She hadn't even thought about that.

  He rubbed lotion into her smooth, flawless skin. She was so small that when he used both hands, they almost completely covered her back. He liked touching her, and he spent so much time rubbing her back that he was afraid she was growing suspicious. But she hadn't uttered a single word. Dropping a light kiss on her shoulder, he moved away.

  Marie felt drowsy with pleasure and wished he hadn't stopped. But as he stretched out beside her, she realized how very much she wanted to return the favor. Pushing herself up, she reached for the bottle of lotion. "Turn over, and I'll put some on your back."

  He flipped onto his stomach, closing his eyes in anticipation. Ahhh. Those soft, slender hands imitated what she'd felt him do to her, rubbing and caressing. He only wished he could get her to do his chest as well so that he could gaze up at her as she ran her hands over him.

  Marie liked touching him. He was big and muscular, and she'd thought that just looking at him without his shirt was a great pleasure. But that was before she'd gotten to run her hands over him.

  After a few minutes she stopped and lay down with a sigh. The beach was beautiful, and the air smelled so good. She liked being here with Rick. All morning he'd looked at her like she was a goddess. Or a cone of ice cream. She giggled at the thought. Wondering if Rick had heard her, she glanced over at him. He hadn't moved. Raising her head, she leaned a little closer to him. He was asleep!

  She lay there for a few more minutes, but she was too restless to keep lying still, especially with no one to talk to. So at last she jumped up and ran into the waves.

  Rick woke up slowly with no idea of how long he'd been asleep. It had been an exhausting week, and he'd gotten less sleep than usual. Of course, he'd had much more fun than usual too, he thought with a lazy smile. He turned to see if Marie was asleep.

  She wasn't there! Springing to his feet, he looked around. The beach had become crowded while he was asleep, and he didn't see her anywhere. "Marie!" he called in a moderately loud voice. Maybe she'd gone for a swim. His heart pounded as he ran toward the waves. He hoped she had enough sense not to go out very far.

  Just as he ran into the surf, he heard a familiar laugh. He turned to see Marie jump to catch a frisbee. She threw it to one of three--no, four--guys surrounding her.

  "Marie!"

  She turned to wave to him. "Hi, Rick! Do you want to play frisbee?"

  "No." He watched her play for a couple of minutes and then headed back toward the blanket.

  Marie ran after him. "Don't you want to play?" she asked, clinging to his arm.

  "No."

  She could tell he was angry. "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing." He dropped onto the blanket.

  "Yes, there is." She knelt beside him. "What is it?"

  After a few moments he turned to face her. "Do you know why those guys kept throwing the frisbee to you?"

  "To watch me jump and bend." When his eyes showed surprise, she told him, "I know I'm naive, Rick, but I'm not totally stupid. After all, you stared at me all morning."

  "That's different," he muttered, glancing away.

  "Why?" When he didn't answer, she took his hand, lacing her fingers with his. "They tried to make a game of picking me up and throwing me into the waves, but I wouldn't let them. I didn't let them touch me. Not even to help me up." She played with a damp, curling lock of his hair. "I'm still a woman of the '20s. I don't let men hold my hand or embrace me or touch me in any way . . . unless I know they truly care about me."

  He turned to her, reading trust and honesty in her eyes. Without a word he slid his arms around her, burying his face in her neck as he hugged her.

  She coaxed him into the water, where they swam and floated on gentle waves. He stayed in until his stomach was rumbling loudly enough to frighten the fish, and then he convinced Marie to leave the water by promising her a hot dog. It was a treat she rarely had. So he bought her one with the works, along with onion rings and a Sprite. She'd never had either of those two, and she sighed and rolled her eyes as if she were feasting on ambrosia. Since she'd had Coke but never heard of Sprite, he assumed that Sprite hadn't been invented by 1927, but he wondered if maybe the fact that she'd never had onion rings was due to her social class. Times had definitely changed where food was concerned. You had to be extremely wealthy and travel in very exclusive circles if you'd never had onion rings or--

  "Pizza!" she exclaimed when she saw a girl walk by with a slice. "I've seen the commercials on television. Is it really good?"

  "Fantastic. We can call and order some tonight."

  "Call and order?"

  "Yeah--pizza places deliver to your house."

  "Really?"

  He smiled at her surprise, leaning over to wipe mustard from the corner of her mouth. "Really."

  It was nearly 4:00 before he could talk her into going home. She'd built a sand dragon with a group of people, and then both she and Rick had played volleyball. She claimed that she could keep going, but she fell asleep on the way home.

  They were too tired to do anything but watch TV that evening. They went to bed early, but still, she didn't wake up until almost 9:00 the next morning. There was no use walking in the garden this morning, she decided with a yawn. She listened carefully but didn't hear Rick's shower or any noise in the kitchen. It was past his usual breakfast time, so he'd be starved when he got up. She could have breakfast ready for him, maybe even serve it to him in bed.

  Jumping up, she pulled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and ran downstairs. She didn't know how to make very much, but she could scramble some eggs, prepare bacon in the microwave, and make some toast. It didn't even take very long. She put a glass of juice and a cup of tea for Rick on the tray and a glass of milk for herself. Careful
ly she carried it upstairs.

  Rick was still asleep when she nudged the door open. She went in, set the tray on the floor, and then sat beside him. "Rick." She played with a curl on his forehead. He turned away from her hand, so she tickled his ear with her fingernail.

  His eyes finally opened, and he blinked up at her, smiling lazily. "Good morning."

  "Good morning."

  "Time to go walking in the garden?"

  "No--it's too late for that. I overslept. Are you hungry? I made you breakfast."

  "You did? I'll go down as soon as I get dressed."

  "I brought it to you." She went to pick up the tray.

  "Wow." He sat up, arranging his pillows behind him. "That looks great."

  She was happy when he began eating with gusto. "What are we going to do today?"

  "I don't know. Whatever you want."

  She smiled. "Go to the shore again?"

  He groaned, pulling the blanket just low enough for her to be able to compare the skin his swimming trunks had covered with the red skin above it. "I don't want to even see the sun."

  "I thought that was what the lotion was for."

  "So did I." He picked up his fork. "At least it worked for you." She'd been slightly pink yesterday, but today she was a lovely golden brown.

  "I was in the water more than you." She licked jelly from her lips. "Would you like me to go get you more juice?"

  "No thank you." He took a sip of tea. "No one's ever served me breakfast in bed before."

  "Really?" She smiled. "I'm glad I'm the first."

  He glanced at her left hand. She'd taken off her engagement ring yesterday before they'd left for the shore, and she hadn't put it back on last night. She wasn't wearing it this morning, either. He wondered if she realized it but decided not to ask her.

  Setting his cup down, he said, "How would you like another new experience?"

  She smiled in delight. "What?"

  "Washing my car."

  Her face fell. "I could do that in 1927."

  "But have you?"

  "No." She laughed. "Come on--let's go do it."

  He hadn't considered the fact that the water hose would be a new toy for her. "Time to rinse, Marie."

  "OK. Look--it's making a rainbow!"

  Smiling, he shook his head. "See if it'll make a rainbow on the car."

  "Good idea." She sprayed the car, but no rainbow appeared, so she adjusted the nozzle to make a wider spray. Inspired by the fine drops that shot out, she pointed the nozzle straight into the air. "Rain!"

  "Hey!" Rick backed out of the spray.

  Laughing, Marie pointed the water at him. "Have a drink!"

  "Marie!" He tried to run away, but she chased him. Thoroughly soaked, he changed tactics and ran toward her. She screeched and started to run, but he seized her around the waist and grabbed the hose. "You're in trouble now." He released her and then squirted her.

  Laughing again, Marie twirled in the spray. "This is fun!"

  Rick shook his head, grinning. "What am I going to do with you?" Dropping the hose, he went to hug her. "You're absolutely incorrigible."

  "Who, me?" She leaned back to smile up at him. "Is it my fault you have all these wonderful toys?"

  He smiled, removing a wet strand of hair from her face. "I'm glad you're having a good time."

  "I am. Thank you, Rick."

  He swallowed, his eyes locked on her face. "Do you know how incredibly beautiful you are?"

  "I'm a mess."

  "No. You're beautiful."

  She lowered her eyes. "Thank you."

  Rick tilted her chin up, making her meet his eyes. When she didn't pull away, he lowered his mouth to hers.

  Marie's heart pounded, her hands clutching convulsively at his wet shirt. Her eyes fluttered shut, but his lips had barely touched hers when she pulled back. "Rick--"

  "Marie." He brushed his lips over hers and nuzzled her cheek before burying his face in her neck.

  He was holding her so tightly and her heart was beating so hard that she was sure he could feel it. She wanted to kiss him more than she'd ever wanted anything . . . but it wasn't right. She was betrothed to Davis. She couldn't kiss another man.

  Reluctantly she pulled away. "I guess we should finish washing your car."

  "OK." His eyes focused on her lips. His tiny bit of contact with them had been electric. He suspected that if he persisted, he could break down her resistance, but he cared about her too much to do that.

  Marie couldn't stop thinking about Rick's kiss. It had been brief, but she could remember everything about it in vivid detail. She closed her eyes as she stood in the shower, reliving the moment. In her mind she could see his face as he told her she was beautiful. Her heart had sped up then but nothing like when he'd tilted her chin up and looked into her eyes. She'd known then that he was going to kiss her, but she'd been unable to turn away. And then his lips had touched hers. She shivered beneath the hot spray as she remembered the pleasure she'd felt. But that pleasure had frightened her, because it was wrong. She was betrothed to Davis.

  When she was dressed, she put her betrothal ring back on. She shouldn't have left it off last night. And she should have asked Rick to set an alarm for her so that she could have walked in the garden this morning. She shouldn't skip any mornings; she never knew which day might be the one when she'd find herself back in 1927.

  When she went downstairs, Rick was watching television. "Want to watch `Bonanza'?" he asked.

  "OK."

  He glanced at her, bemused, when she sat down on the far end of the sofa. "You can come closer. I don't bite."

  "I'm not worried about being bitten."

  "So you're worried I'll try to kiss you again?"

  She glanced at him. "Will you?"

  "Not if you tell me you don't like it."

  She wished he hadn't phrased it that way. "I'm betrothed, you know."

  "I know." That thought wouldn't stop him.

  "And I'm going back to 1927."

  That thought would. Sobered, he told her, "I'll miss you, Marie."

  "Really?"

  "Very much."

  She moved to sit beside him. "Do you see a lot of girls?"

  "You've been living with me for a week. What do you think?"

  She smiled. "One called this week."

  "Did I go out with her?"

  Her smile faded. "You should have. I don't want to disrupt your life, Rick."

  Briefly he considered trying again to kiss her but instead took a lock of her hair to play with. "You haven't disrupted it. You've made it better." He put his arm around her, squeezing her shoulders. "Anyway, today alone has been a perfect date."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Breakfast in bed, washing my car, now watching TV."

  "You call that a date?"

  "Yeah. What do you call a date?"

  "You know--going out to dinner and then dancing or to a concert or something."

  "I'd rather wash my car and have a pizza delivered."

  She frowned. "Why?"

  "Because we have a better chance to get to know each other." He took her hand, kissing the back of her fingers. "This week we've exercised, done laundry, shopped, gone to the beach, cooked, watched TV, and talked the whole time. Well, except when we were watching TV, and even then your questions helped me to get to know you."

  She laid her head on his shoulder, pleased but confused. Rick was so different from Davis. She wished that she could talk about him with her mother. But when she could again talk with her mother, there'd be no point. Rick would be gone. That thought brought tears to her eyes, and she snuggled closer to him, wishing she could have everyone she cared about in the same decade.

  They spent the afternoon watching TV, reading, and napping. "I feel so lazy," Marie said, stretching as she yawned.

  "It's nice to have a day like this every now and then, though."
>
  "Yeah." She looked at his arms with concern. "How does your sunburn feel?" she asked him.

  "Still a little sore. I should have put some lotion on this morning."

  "Go do it now."

  "I'm feeling too lazy."

  "Tell me where it is, and I'll get it for you."

  Following his instructions, she went to his bathroom and got the lotion. Opening the bottle, she sniffed it as she descended the stairs. It didn't smell as good as the sunscreen, so she wasn't tempted to rub any onto her own skin.

  "Thanks, honey--this'll feel great." He rubbed some on his legs and then stripped off his shirt.

  Marie watched in fascination as he applied the lotion to his arms and chest. When he was finished, she told him, "I'll do your back."

  "Thanks."

  She used both hands, slowly rubbing the lotion over every inch of his back. She couldn't even imagine touching Davis like this, and she didn't think it had anything to do with morals. She just didn't feel comfortable enough with him to do something this personal. Yet here she was running her hands all over the back of a man she'd known only a week. Was it a difference in morals? Or times? Or was it Rick? She'd never known a man so warm and kind and open.

  Feeling a surge of affection, she slid her arms around his waist, laying her cheek against his back. "How does that feel?"

  "Better than you could ever imagine." He sucked in his breath, standing perfectly still. He didn't want to be released from her embrace.

  But moments later she pulled away from him. "I'm hungry."

  "What do you want to do for dinner?"

  "I don't know. More pizza?" She'd loved the pizza they'd had last night. It had been thick and gooey and messy. She'd found it both delicious and fun to eat.

  "Maybe tomorrow night. I think we need something a little less fattening tonight. Why don't I barbecue some chicken?"

  She wrapped potatoes and put them in the oven while he got the grill going. "Do you barbecue in 1927?"

  "My family doesn't. Other people do."

  "Really? What do you do at all those garden parties?" He laid the chicken on the grill.

  "Gossip and eat little sandwiches and sip tea."

  "Sounds like fun." He rolled his eyes.

  She sat down in a lounge chair on the patio. "Life should be terribly exciting for me. Having fun is important in 1927--dancing, music, pictures--all kinds of merriment. And my father is wealthy. We have enough money to do anything we want. But all he wants to do is earn more money. When I was 19, we went to a new resort in Palm Beach. For months I looked forward to it, but it was a terrible disappointment. Father went only because a man with whom he had business was going there for the Christmas holidays. And he wouldn't allow me out. He's very protective."

  "And you didn't sneak out?" Rick asked with exaggerated astonishment.

  "Of course I did." She grinned. "But I didn't get as many opportunities as I would have liked. Still, I love my father very much. I miss him. And my mother. And--" Her voice caught in her throat, and she looked away.

  Rick leaned forward to take her hands. "I'm sorry, honey. I know it's hard for you. But I bet you'll walk back into 1927 when you least expect it." That thought depressed him.

  She saw the sadness in his eyes and leaned forward to lay her hand on his knee. "I enjoy being here with you, Rick. If I'd met you in 1927 . . ." If she'd met him in 1927, she'd probably have felt every bit as much confusion as she was feeling now.

  He took her hand, pressing his lips into her palm. "If you belonged in 2011, things would be different." He stroked her fingers thoughtfully. If she belonged here, he would be pursuing her relentlessly. But she wanted to go back to 1927. So there was absolutely no point in falling in love with her.

  Marie found herself thinking about Rick all the time that week. He was always smiling, always kind and gentle. He showed her new things he thought she'd like and took her places and bought her gifts. But what she enjoyed most was just being with him. He made her feel special. And he was protective without making her feel confined. He called her every day at lunch and sometimes later in the afternoon. Last week he'd been concerned about her, worried about how she was getting along in a strange place. But now they chatted and made plans for the evening. And he was always home by 5:30.

  All day long she looked forward to 5:30. One of her newborn fantasies revolved around Rick's afternoon return. She imagined him walking through the door, exclaiming that he couldn't stand it any longer, sweeping her into his arms, kissing her. Her favorite, though, was having him tiptoe into her room in the morning to play with her hair until her eyelids fluttered open and then bend over her to kiss her. He wouldn't be wearing a shirt, and, miraculously, her breath would be fresh and sweet.

  Those dreams were silly, of course. Not because they couldn't happen but because they could. Marie frowned as she poured soap into the washing machine. She wanted very much to kiss Rick. But she was betrothed to Davis. She shouldn't be kissing other men. But it was getting harder to remember that. Rick filled both her days and her thoughts.

  Marie wanted to go to the shore again the next weekend, but Rick's memories of his burn the previous weekend hadn't faded as fast as the burn. "Suppose I teach you to drive instead?" he suggested as they drove home Friday night after dinner and a movie.

  "Drive? Your automobile?"

  "Sure. Would you like that?"

  "I'd love it!" She almost choked on her Slurpee, the first she'd ever had. "Where can I drive to?"

  "From one end of the parking lot to the other."

  "A parking lot?"

  "I'll take you to a big, empty parking lot somewhere and let you get the feel of it. When you feel comfortable, I might let you drive around some quiet neighborhoods, but you need to study the rules of the road so you can get a license. Then we'll see about trying out the streets downtown and the highways."

  "You have to have a license to drive?"

  "Yeah--it's illegal to drive without one."

  "How do you get one?"

  "You have to study the rules and pass a written test, and then they take you out on the road and see how you drive."

  "When can I do it?" She couldn't wait to get her hands on the steering wheel.

  "Like I said, I'll let you drive in a parking lot tomorrow. I'll pick up a booklet for you to study one day this week."

  She woke up so excited the next morning that she jumped into her clothes, ran through the garden, and was racing up the stairs less than ten minutes after she'd awakened. "Rick!" she called, running into her bedroom to get her bathrobe. "Rick, wake up! It's almost 8:00!"

  Rick groaned, wishing he'd told her that driving wasn't allowed before 10:00 a.m. He turned over and went back to sleep, but 15 minutes later, after her shower, she pounded on his door. "Rick, are you up? I'll be ready in 20 minutes!"

  He couldn't help smiling as he rubbed his eyes sleepily. She was so excited about everything. He'd better not let her have tea before she got behind the wheel.

  "OK, I turn the key, right?" she said, almost quivering with excitement as she slid behind the wheel.

  "Yeah, but take a minute to calm down. Take a deep breath." He covered her hand with his, smiling. "Now turn the key until you hear the car start and then let go."

  She turned it and let go as soon as she heard a noise. But then the noise stopped. The second time she held the key longer, jerking her hand away when she heard a grinding sound. "What did I do?"

  "You kept the key turned too long. It's OK--you'll get the feel of it. The motor's running, so put your foot on the brake. OK, now press the button in on the handle there and move it to D." When she'd done that, he said, "Now let your foot off the brake."

  She did so. "Oh! We're moving!" She tightened her grip on the steering wheel.

  "Relax. Just turn in the direction you want to go." For a few seconds they rolled forward, and then Rick saw he
r relax. "OK, press on the gas pedal. Just a little. Not--" he grunted--"like that." She'd pressed it a little too hard and then, panicking, stepped hard on the brake.

  "I'm sorry." She bit her lower lip.

  "It's OK. We have this whole parking lot--you can't hurt anything. Just relax and take your time."

  It took a while for her to get the hang of it, but an hour or so later, she was cruising around the parking lot, making reasonably smooth starts and stops. Rick was glad to see that her initial difficulties had made her cautious. That should curb her excitement when she got out on the road.

  They drove a little the next day, and Monday Rick picked up a booklet at the DMV. Marie spent all day Tuesday studying it and was sure that she could pass the test. Rick had found out, however, that she couldn't get one without a social security number. Marie was disappointed, of course, but Rick wasn't sure it was a good idea for her to drive alone, anyway, and she'd eventually want to do that if she had a license. Besides, he was putting together a surprise for her that he knew would take her mind off driving.

  Marie was doing laundry Thursday afternoon when the phone rang. Putting down the lid and turning the machine on, she ran to answer it. "Hello?"

  "Hi, sweetheart--how is everything?"

  "Fine. I'm doing the laundry."

  "I have a blue shirt hanging on the bathroom doorknob--"

  "I found it. It's in the dryer."

  "Thanks--you're terrific. Listen, I called to tell you that I may be a little late tonight."

  "Why?"

  "I have a lot of things to wrap up before the weekend. But I have a surprise for you that'll make up for it."

  "It will have to be a really special surprise."

  He laughed. "It is. And I'll pick up a pizza for dinner. I'll try not to be very late."

  He was still smiling as he hung up. She was incredible. The last three weeks had been wonderful. She was so much fun, and he loved knowing that she'd be waiting for him when he got home. Sometimes the intimacy of living with her was a strain--sleeping and showering under the same roof, shopping for underwear and doing laundry, lazy evenings when he held her close. She was beautiful and sexy, and he ached to kiss and caress her and make love to her. But he cared about her too much to press her.

  "Marie!" he called when he got home that afternoon.

  "I'll be down in a minute!"

  He went to the kitchen and set the pizza on the table. As he was filling glasses with ice, she padded into the kitchen. "Hi. I thought you'd be later." It was only 6:30.

  "So did I. But I hurried--I couldn't wait to get home." He smiled at her. "We need to add a bathrobe to our shopping list, don't we?" She was wearing his, obviously having just showered.

  "No. I like wearing yours."

  "Do you want to run and get dressed before we eat?"

  "No. I want to know what the surprise is."

  He laughed. "You remembered that, did you?" He filled their glasses with Coke. "Well, I'll probably have to work late tomorrow too."

  She stared at him in dismay. "That's the surprise?"

  He laughed. "No. I have to work late because of the surprise. I have quite a bit of vacation time coming, and I thought I'd take some next week. Since I'm not giving much notice, I have a lot of things I have to take care of tomorrow."

  If a vacation was the surprise, it must include her, but she didn't want to make any assumptions. "What plans have you made for your vacation?"

  "I thought we'd spend Saturday shopping for whatever you may need, and we'll leave Sunday morning."

  "Leave for where?"

  "Los Angeles."

  She frowned. "Los Angeles?"

  "Hollywood."

  Marie screamed, almost knocking Rick off his feet when she leapt into his arms. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I can't believe it!" She hugged him hard and kissed his cheek. "Do you mean it?"

  "Of course I mean it. That would be a terrible joke."

  "Oh, Rick, thank you so much! I'm going to go pack." She turned to go upstairs.

  "Whoa." He caught her hand, chuckling. "It's three days before we leave. I think you can sit down and eat first."

  But she was too excited to eat. "Will we get to meet any stars?"

  "I don't know. They guard their privacy. But we'll do the Paramount and Universal tours."

  "The what?"

  "Tours of Paramount Studios and Universal Studios."

  "Really?" she squealed. "Will we get to be in a movie?"

  "No." He reached out to squeeze her hand. "Listen, sweetheart--Hollywood probably isn't what you imagine. Everyone in the world would love to be in the movies, and there's a lot of lying and cheating and scheming to get ahead in the industry. Hollywood's specialty is illusion. I don't want you to be too disappointed."

  "How could I be? I never even thought I'd get to go! Thank you so much, Rick." She jumped up to kiss his cheek again.

  Marie couldn't sleep that night. She was going to Hollywood! She wouldn't be able to see Mary Pickford or Douglas Fairbanks, but maybe she'd see some of her new favorites, like Mel Gibson and Julia Roberts.

  She managed to doze a little but was wide awake before dawn. Deciding to do an aerobics tape until it was light enough to walk in the garden, she put on her workout clothes and went downstairs.

  She didn't know how she was going to be able to wait two entire days. She was so excited that she felt like she could run all the way to Hollywood. After 45 minutes of aerobics, she still wasn't tired! She wouldn't be able to sit still and watch TV today. She'd do all their laundry and clean the house from top to bottom and have dinner ready when Rick got home. She glanced at her watch and decided to get everything ready for breakfast so that it wouldn't take long to cook it for Rick as soon as they got back from her walk.

  She froze in place. What if she got back to 1927 today? She wouldn't get to go to Hollywood.

  Dropping into a chair, she drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees. She wanted to go to Hollywood more than she'd ever wanted anything. Well, not more than she wanted to go home. She was having fun here, but it was as if she were on holiday. She missed her mother and father and friends, and she didn't think she could bear it if she thought she'd never get back. What if she skipped her walk in the garden today and today turned out to be her chance to get back? But she knew that no one in 1927 was going to take her to Hollywood. She smiled, remembering with pleasure the moment when Rick had said he was taking her to Hollywood. Her heart sped up again at just the memory. Hollywood! Rick was giving her her dream. He'd known her only three weeks and was taking time off from his job to take her where she wanted to go. No one had ever been as sweet to her or as thoughtful as Rick.

  "Morning."

  Marie jumped, looking up at Rick. "Good morning." She glanced out the window and realized she must have been sitting there for nearly 30 minutes.

  "Have you been out to the garden already?"

  "No." She stood and went to him. "I want to go home--"

  "I know, sweetheart." He caressed her hair, wishing he knew how to comfort her.

  "I want to go home, but I also want to go to Hollywood."

  He chuckled. "Do you want to cut out the walk in the garden until we get back?"

  "I'm afraid--oh." It had just now occurred to her that she wouldn't be able to walk in the garden for the whole week they were gone. But she just couldn't pass up the chance to go to Hollywood.

  She'd compromise. She'd walk today and tomorrow, and if she got back home . . . well, at least she'd be back home. That thought filled her with an astonishing sadness. Sadness, not just disappointment over Hollywood—-because she'd miss Rick.

  "Afraid of what?" Rick stroked her cheek with his thumb.

  "Hmmm? Oh. Nothing." Standing on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek. "I'll go change clothes and be right back."

  She wished she could wear her sneakers, she mused as she
roamed through the garden in her bulky black shoes. But she couldn't very well walk into her house wearing shorts and sneakers. She did, however, have on black lace underwear that she'd gotten at the mall. No one would know about that, and it would be a reminder of her adventure in 2011.

  She wandered full circle and, for the first time, wasn't disappointed when she saw Rick's fountain. He stood up when he saw her, and she walked into his arms. "What do I need to do to get ready for Hollywood?" she asked, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder.

  She spent the day washing and ironing and folding clothes and cleaning the house. While the lasagna she'd made for dinner baked, she made a list of what she wanted to buy the next day. They needed new beach towels and more sunscreen and aloe vera lotion. She wanted a nice dress to wear in the evening, but she hesitated about putting it on the list. She didn't want to ask Rick for anything frivolous, and she'd probably get to wear the dress only once or twice. But she didn't want him to be embarrassed by a companion who wasn't dressed appropriately. Well, she'd ask him where he planned to take her and what she should wear.

  "Why don't we find you a nice, simple dress?" Rick asked the next day after they'd bought towels and lotions and visors and sunglasses.

  She smiled, hugging his arm. She hadn't even mentioned the dress. "Thank you. I was hoping I could get one."

  He glanced down at her. "Sweetheart, you can get anything you want."

  With delight she browsed through racks of dresses and then tried on half a dozen. "I like the black one the best," Rick told her.

  "Really? You like it better than the red?"

  "Yeah. The red one is very pretty, but the black one is elegant and sophisticated."

  "OK. I'll take it."

  They bought the dress and matching sandals. As soon as they got home, Marie spread out all their purchases, looking at them with delight. "I can't wait!" she exclaimed, smoothing her dress over the arm of the recliner.

  Rick smiled. "Do you think we have everything we need?"

  "Yes. Thank you so much, Rick." She flung her arms around him.

  She packed for both of them and finally, unable to find anything else to do, dropped onto the sofa beside him. "I'm excited."

  "I hadn't noticed." He squeezed her shoulders. "Are you ready to watch `E.T.'?" He'd rented the movie because of the "E.T." ride they'd see at Universal Studios.

  "Yeah.” She sighed, snuggling closer to him as he pressed the remote button. "Thank you, Rick."

  "For the movie?"

  "No. For the trip. I can't believe you're taking me to Hollywood. I can't believe you're going to Hollywood just for me."

  "I'm going to have as much fun as you are." He stroked her hair. "I love being with you, Marie. And I love seeing your excitement. Every time I see you get excited about a microwave or a dishwasher or a blacklight, it makes me want to think of something else I can show you or give you."

  Her heart tightened. "Thank you." She tilted her head back to look up at him. "Thank you so much, Rick."

  He stroked her cheek with his forefinger. "I'd do anything for you, sweetheart." When she didn't look away, simply continuing to gaze into his eyes, he slowly lowered his mouth to hers, brushing his lips over hers. She didn't pull away. Gathering her closer, he kissed her gently.

  Marie's pulse raced as Rick's lips moved over hers. This . . . this was nothing like Davis's kisses. Rick's kiss was making her tremble. She returned it briefly and then pulled away, hiding her face against his shoulder in confusion. How could she like Rick's kiss more than Davis'? How could his kiss make her feel so hot and weak?

  Rick drew in a shaky breath, laying his cheek against her hair. That one small, hesitant kiss had been so exciting that he knew he'd be lost if she ever kissed him the way he wanted. And he knew himself well enough and was honest enough to admit that it wasn't just because she was beautiful and sexy. He was in love with her.

  Marie's pulse rate was almost back to normal, but her mind was still racing. "Rick," she began without looking at him, "if I told you that your kiss hurt me, what would you do?"

  He tilted her chin up to look at her anxiously. "Did I hurt you? What did--"

  "No, no--you didn't hurt me." She caressed his cheek. "But what if you did? What if you kissed me so hard that-that my teeth cut my lips? What if--"

  "I would never, ever hurt you." He caressed her hair. "If I ever do anything that hurts you or that you don't like, tell me, and I'll stop. Right away. I care about you, Marie, and I'd rather never kiss you again than hurt you."

  She laid her head on his shoulder again. She believed him.