Excerpt from Stitches from the Heart

"You look very pretty today, Shannon."

Shannon jumped. It was almost the end of her shift, and she’d begun to hope that Gary wouldn’t show up again. No such luck. "Gary! I told you I don’t want to see you." In fact, she’d lost count of the number of times she’d told him that.

He smiled sheepishly. "But I miss you! And you said we could maybe go out once in a while."

She’d said that two weeks ago, back when she’d thought he might take the hint and give up on them ever having a future. "I changed my mind, Gary, and we’ve talked about that half a dozen times already."

"But I’ll treat you good! Really, I will!" He took a step toward her, and she pressed back against the shelf, wishing she wasn’t in such an isolated area of the bookstore. He towered over her, and still had plenty of the strength he’d developed during his football playing days. She didn’t think he’d harm her, but he was acting so strangely it was hard to know for sure.

"Oh, Shannon, there you are!" Ms. Wallace, the store manager, appeared at the end of the aisle. "After you finish helping that customer, I’d like to speak with you." Her voice sounded a bit crisper than usual.

"I’ll be right there," she promised. "Gary, you’ve got to leave now. And please don’t come back. I’m not going to change my mind." She quickly followed Ms. Wallace into the office area.

"Have a seat," the other woman said as she sat behind the desk in her minuscule office. "Shannon, I’m troubled by that young man who keeps coming in while you’re working."

She sighed. It was too much to hope that Gary’s visits hadn’t been noticed. "I’m sorry, Ms. Wallace. I keep asking Gary not to come in, but he won’t listen to me." That sounded like a poor excuse, so she explained, "The problem is that I broke up with him, and he hasn’t accepted it yet." She wasn’t going to admit that she’d given up her old job, moved back home temporarily, and become a virtual house prisoner, all to avoid his constant attention.

"How recently did that happen?"

"Well, I’ve been trying since Valentine’s Day, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so I wasn’t real definite about it for the first couple of weeks. But a week ago Sunday, I realized I wasn’t getting through to him, so I made it crystal clear. And since I was working with him in his father’s company, I decided I had to quit my job, too."

Ms. Wallace smiled sympathetically. "One of the drawbacks of dating a co-worker. I really wish I could just let time take care of this matter, but I’m afraid his presence is really disruptive to the rest of the staff and our customers. Do you think it would help if I had a talk with him?"

"I don’t know. My dad tried last week, and it helped a little. Gary doesn’t call me all the time anymore, but now I see him parked across the street from the house at night, and in the early morning." Talking about it made her suddenly realize how sick she was of the whole thing. "Maybe I should just give up and become a nun."

Ms. Wallace’s smile faded. "Shannon, I started out worrying that I might have to lose a good worker like you, but the more you tell me about this situation, the more concerned I am. It’s not healthy for you to be pursued like this. Have you considered getting out of town for a while?"

"Not really." Her fantasies had been more of the Gary-disappearing-into-Lake-Michigan variety. Ann Arbor had been her home for the past seven years, and Gary didn’t have the right to spoil it for her.

Shannon saw another car’s headlights behind her as she left the parking lot. But the mall had traffic coming and going all the time, so the other car probably wasn’t following her.

Still, she drove faster than usual, hoping to make it onto the freeway before Gary--if it was Gary--could see which direction she was going. She was on her way to meet some friends on the other side of town, and she couldn’t stand the idea of him sitting at the bar staring at her, watching for a chance to get her alone.

She looked in her rearview mirror every few seconds, but it was impossible to tell if that was Gary’s car back there. Maybe it would have been smarter to ask Julie to pick her up, since her parents’ house wasn’t far out of Julie’s way. But she’d known she’d be leaving from work--and anyway, Gary was her problem, not Julie’s.

She pulled quickly into the restaurant parking lot and found a space not far from the front door. But another car followed her into the lot and parked only a couple of cars away. She decided to wait a minute until the driver got out and started inside, just to make sure.

A few seconds later, Gary walked right up to her car window, wearing that big goofy grin of his. "Hey, Shannon. I thought you said your car didn’t have much acceleration, but I almost lost you back at the mall. It’s cold out tonight--let’s go inside and get one of those great coffee drinks." He reached for the handle of her car door.

Why hadn’t she remembered to lock her door? She really couldn’t take having Gary touch her again, and she knew she’d never get rid of him. Without even bothering to look behind her, she shifted into Reverse and backed up, then zipped out of the parking lot. She’d call the restaurant when she got home, and leave messages for Molly and Julie on their machines. They’d understand.

Half an hour later, Shannon was pacing in front of the fire in the study. "I can’t take much more of this! I know it hasn’t been that long, but I thought Gary would give up before this. He can’t think I’m going to fall madly in love with him, the way he’s acting."

"He might think you’ll change your mind about dating him," Mom suggested gently.

"Well, I won’t. He’s being an idiot." She threw herself onto the settee. "And why me, for heaven’s sakes? It’s not like I’m beautiful or anything."

"Of course you are," Dad said, puffing on his pipe. "You girls never take a serious look at yourselves, you’re so busy being dissatisfied with your imagined faults."

She didn’t need to hear that lecture again. She appealed to her mother, "Mom, make him stop! I’m not saying I’m ugly, but I’m not gorgeous like Julie, either."

But Mom just smiled. "Julie’s pretty, dear, but so are you. And you might as well learn that men don’t look at us the same way we look at ourselves. For instance, I’d bet that Gary either doesn’t care about those freckles you hate--or else he thinks they make you even prettier than you’d be without them."

"That’s ridiculous." But then she remembered how strangely Gary had been behaving recently, and she wouldn’t put anything past him. "So, what am I going to do about him, anyway? Ms. Wallace didn’t fire me today, but if Gary shows up there again, she probably will. And it’ll be the same anywhere else I get a job--unless I do what she suggested and leave town." She braced for an explosion.

"Well, that’s certainly an option. We were planning to mention the idea to you, anyway."

She stared at her mother. "You were?"

"Yes. Aunt Helen called earlier this evening, while you were at work. She was sorry to hear that Gary’s giving you so much trouble, and she’d love it if you visited her for a few weeks."

"A few weeks? I can’t do that--I have to work."

Dad puffed a couple of times on his pipe, filling the room with the sweet smell of his tobacco. "It’s up to you, of course." Whenever he used those words, he was about to produce what he considered an unassailable argument, something that only an idiot would argue against. "But I would think that a few weeks absence would be very effective in getting through to Gary. You have to realize that every time you get mad at him, or change your plans to avoid him, you’re in effect rewarding him."

"Rewarding him?" But before Dad got further into psychology professor mode, she caught on. "Okay, I see what you mean. I’m paying attention to him that way, just like a little kid might misbehave to get his mother’s attention."

"Right. The best thing would be for you to just ignore him, as though he wasn’t even there. But that’s not easy to do."

"Especially not for you," Mom added. "You’ve always been concerned about others’ feelings, and Gary knows that. He probably figures you’ll change your mind, simply so you don’t have to deal with the constant hassle."

"Well, I’m not going to change my mind, that’s for sure." But why did he still want her? Their relationship hadn’t set the world on fire--or even the two of them, as far as she knew. The way-too-expensive Valentine’s Day necklace had been her first clue that he thought she was somebody special, and their one-and-only experiment with sex had been distinctly underwhelming.

She decided not to worry about the situation right now. "So, what’s up with Aunt Helen? Is she feeling okay?" Aunt Helen was her mother’s aunt, and had turned eighty last fall.

"She sounded fine, as uninterested in talking about her health as ever. Still busy quilting, and looking forward to the start of gardening season. She seemed to think that if you spent some time out there, your father and I might be persuaded to visit over Easter break." With a smile directed at Dad, she added, "I’ve been hearing about the Pacific Ocean and Timberline Lodge all evening."

Pictures of the beach and mountains of Oregon filled Shannon’s head. Memories of Aunt Helen, too, and the wonderful farmhouse where Shannon had spent the best years of her childhood. But the farmhouse had been replaced by an expensive housing development, and Shannon felt a little funny about the prospect of seeing Aunt Helen in the almost-new townhouse where she now lived. "But I have to work."

"I know you have pleasant memories of working in the bookstore during college, but being a clerk won’t be a very rewarding career for you, long-term," Mom reminded her.

"No, I know that. Once Gary stops hassling me so much, I’ll talk to some of the other property developers about a job. I’ve gotten to know a few of them through Mr. Radison, and they know I was doing a good job." She had done a good job, and she was capable of much more than she’d been doing. Unfortunately, until Gary backed off and let her live her own life again, her career would have to wait.

Suddenly, a visit to Oregon seemed awfully attractive. She’d miss Mom and Dad and her friends, but she loved Aunt Helen like crazy. Maybe even better, she wouldn’t have to watch for Gary every minute of every day. "But what about money? If I quit the bookstore--"

"We’ll buy your plane ticket." Dad’s offer came so quickly that she knew he and Mom had talked about it earlier. "We could store the furniture from your apartment here, so you wouldn’t have to pay rent. I’d think your expenses would be fairly modest."

Mom nodded. "Basically just pocket money, because you know Aunt Helen. She never lets anyone pay toward the food bill."

"I’ve got a fair amount in my bank account, too." She’d been saving toward a new car, but her sanity was more important. "You’ll come out at Easter?" Even during college and two years of living by herself in an apartment, she’d never gone more than a few days without seeing them.

While Dad fiddled around relighting his pipe, Mom said, "Aunt Helen promised your father a spiral-sliced ham. What do you think?"

"I think I’m going to Oregon." Simply saying the words made her smile. She’d loved Oregon as a child, and now it had a special added attraction--the lack of Gary Radison.

When the doorbell rang, Brian was pouring himself a big mug of coffee to take upstairs to the computer. He ran down the flight of stairs and opened the front door. It was Helen, his next-door neighbor.

"I hope I’m not disturbing you, Brian dear, but I was doing some baking this morning, and I thought you might like a few of my oatmeal cookies." She offered him a plate that he knew from experience would have more than "a few" cookies on it.

He smiled at her. "I never mind you coming over, Helen, you know that. And you know equally well that I never turn down any of your baking. Thank you." He took the plate, wondering what small favor she wanted. When she stopped by unannounced like this, she had a reason. Not that he minded--he was always glad to help the dainty woman who was the closest thing he had to a family. "Would you like to come upstairs for a cup of coffee?"

"No, thanks. I’m a bit busy today. My great-niece Shannon is arriving in a few hours--"

He was so surprised that he interrupted, "She is? I don’t remember you saying anything about that before." He couldn’t imagine Helen forgetting to tell him even the most trivial news about Shannon or her mother, Linda. Helen had plenty of relatives, but Linda and Shannon were the ones she was closest to.

"I only found out yesterday," she explained, frowning. "She’s having a bit of trouble with an old boyfriend, and we thought a short vacation would do her a world of good."

He tasted something sour. A sudden trip across country wasn’t usually required for a broken romance. But Shannon’s love life--or lack thereof--was none of his concern, and to be honest, he’d always wanted to meet her. He’d heard so many stories about her, both as a little girl and as a young woman, that he was curious. Could she possibly be as wonderful as Helen’s stories made her seem? "How long will she be here?"

"A few weeks, until Easter or so."

Easter was close to a month away! And he knew Shannon had been working, at least until recently. His brain clicked through possible explanations until he realized what he was doing. It would be smarter to think about what Helen wanted him to do for her today.

Of course. It was obvious. Helen didn’t like driving on unfamiliar roads in the best of weather, and today definitely didn’t qualify for that. It was gray and rainy, and the wind whipping around their condos made the weather sound even worse than it was. "She’s flying in at what time?"

"A little after three," Helen answered with a hint of embarrassment. "And if you’re busy, I know I’ll do just fine. But I haven’t been out to the airport since they started that big construction project, and I’ve heard the signs can be quite confusing."

He smiled. "I’m not busy, and I’ll be glad to drive. Do you mind if we take your car? It’s more comfortable than mine for three people plus luggage."

"Oh, no. That would be fine," she said with a relieved smile. They arranged to leave about two-thirty, and she returned to her preparations.

He spent the intervening hours working. He was an engineering manager at DesignTek, and that kept his workdays more than full. But programming was something he enjoyed and excelled at, so in order to avoid letting his skills grow rusty, he wrote small chunks of code for his team’s project on most weekends.

The drive to the airport was wet, with huge puddles on the road in several places. He was glad Helen wasn’t braving it on her own. As usual, the traffic was bumper-to-bumper as it approached the terminal. He warned Helen, "Be sure to tell me if you see Shannon--or even if it might be her. The passenger waiting area is pretty small and I won’t have much chance to pull over."

But he turned out to be the one who spotted Shannon, recognizing her from the pictures Helen had on her mantel. He pulled into the turnout. "Is that her?"

Helen looked where he was pointing, and immediately reached for the door handle. "Shannon!"

Within a few minutes, they were headed back out of the airport, Shannon’s bags safely stowed in the trunk. Shannon was in the front passenger seat, turned sideways and chatting excitedly with Helen.

And Brian was testing the limits of his peripheral vision, trying to figure out how this petite pixie with freckles had turned a dreary day into one filled with promise.

Shannon closed her eyes tightly, wishing she could pretend it wasn’t morning yet. She loved sleeping under the quilt that had been her favorite since she was five years old, and she would gladly stay right here for days.

Aunt Helen had made the quilt from scraps of old dresses, some of them Shannon’s. She and her mother had been living with Aunt Helen then, and Shannon had pretended it was a magic quilt with the power to wipe away all her troubles. The magic had been amazingly effective, and even all these years later, its healing power was at work again. The world felt much more safe and secure this morning than it had yesterday.

A place filled with the smell of cinnamon rolls, in fact! Bed suddenly lost its appeal, and Shannon hurried downstairs. Aunt Helen simply smiled and said, "I thought that smell would get you up. Would you like cocoa with breakfast?"

Aunt Helen made real cocoa with hot milk, not the instant kind. "Yes, please," Shannon answered. She’d be grown-up and drink coffee some other morning.

After they ate, Aunt Helen said, "You look much more like yourself this morning, dear. You seemed so tired yesterday."

She smiled. "It’s that wonderful quilt that did the trick. I slept great."

"I’m glad. You certainly needed the rest. But what you said about the quilt ties in with something I was thinking earlier."

"It does? What?" Aunt Helen wasn’t going to give her that quilt, was she? That would be fantastic, but--well, it wouldn’t seem right. She liked knowing that Aunt Helen had that quilt in her guest room, waiting for Shannon or her parents to visit.

Aunt Helen smiled fondly. "I was just remembering how fascinated you were when I made that quilt. You watched me every second you were allowed, and you were so careful not to get in my way. I wondered if you might like to learn how to make a quilt yourself."

Her heart lurched. "Do you really think I could?"

"Of course you could. It’s not that difficult. You simply need a bit of time, and the willingness to take things carefully, step by step."

"Well, I certainly have plenty of time, and I’m usually pretty patient. Are you really sure you wouldn’t mind teaching me?"

Aunt Helen gave her hand a squeeze. "I’d love to, dear. Your mother’s always wanted to learn, but she never slows down long enough to get started."

Shannon smiled at the mental image of her mother trying to measure and cut fabric precisely while doing aerobics and listening to language tapes. "I’d love to learn to quilt. Thanks so much for suggesting it! What do we do first?"

"Well, you’ll need to decide what you want to make--what pattern, how big, and what colors. Probably the best thing is for you to look through my quilt books and mark the ones you like best. Then, I’ll help you pick one that won’t be too complicated for your first project. If you’re ready, we can buy the fabric tomorrow, after my sewing group in the morning." She pushed her chair back from the table and stood. "Come into the sewing room with me, and I’ll show you where my quilt books are."

There was a bookshelf in the sewing room, just full of books about quilting. What a perfect way to spend a magical day.

Brian should have refused Helen’s invitation to Sunday dinner. He knew it was primarily a thank-you for driving her to the airport yesterday, and since he’d been glad to do it, no thanks were necessary. But Shannon would be there, and he couldn’t pass up a chance to get to know her.

Amazingly, she proved even more delightful than Helen’s stories had indicated. She both listened and talked with enthusiasm, in such a natural way that he couldn’t help being charmed. And while she wasn’t a classic beauty, he found himself mesmerized by her looks. She was dainty, a good eight or so inches shorter than he was, with short mink-brown hair. Her eyes were huge, and their brilliant deep blue stopped all thought whenever he glimpsed them.

While they were enjoying a glass of wine before dinner, Helen asked her, "Have you decided which quilt patterns you like best?"

Shannon’s face took on an almost-dreamy quality. "They’re all so beautiful. I love seeing how different fabrics can make the same pattern look completely different."

He asked, "Have you seen the quilt puzzle your aunt has? It’s made up of a number of small quilt blocks. There are two blocks of each pattern, but the colors are so different, I didn’t recognize them as the same at first."

Shannon’s eyes widened and her smile made him dizzy. "I’d forgotten about that puzzle! I gave it to Aunt Helen years ago." She turned back to Helen and added, "As far as what pattern I’d like to make, my very most favorite is the Triple Around the World, like the one on my bed here. But it looks awfully complicated, so it might be too hard."

Helen thought for a moment before answering. "I don’t think it is. I’ll take a quick look at the directions, but I hadn’t done much quilting when I made that one. Have you thought about a color scheme?"

"I thought maybe different shades of blue, since that’s my favorite color--but what do you think?"

"That sounds lovely, and there are always plenty of attractive blues in the fabric store."

Brian knew they’d never find a prettier blue than the one in Shannon’s eyes.

Shannon couldn’t believe it. Here she was, playing cards with Aunt Helen and Brian, and she was having a good time. She’d played cards with Aunt Helen since she was little, so that wasn’t a surprise. Brian was the amazement.

First of all, he was a truly nice guy, friendly but not pushy. He was easy to be with, and quick with a smile no matter who was currently on a lucky streak. And his smiles were great--open and infectious, and they showed off perfect white teeth.

Another surprise was that she was--well, noticing things about him. Like the way a few locks of his chestnut brown hair would fall on his forehead every once in a while, and how he’d shove it back in place without seeming to care if it looked perfect. Or what attractive hands he had, with slender tapered fingers instead of the fat stubby ones Gary had inherited from his father. She wondered what they’d feel like, touching--

No! She couldn’t let herself think about things like that, and certainly not right in front of Aunt Helen. Not in front of Brian, either, not when she was so bad at hiding her thoughts. She was here in Oregon for a vacation, for a break from Gary hassling her. She wasn’t in the market for another boyfriend.

She looked down at her cards, refreshing her memory about what cards she needed. Aunt Helen had just picked up the discard pile, so she was probably getting ready to score a lot of points. And she could never tell about Brian. He might have nothing useful in his hand, or he might go out next time around.

He flashed her a smile right then, and maybe it was only her imagination, but she thought it was a great deal more personal than the ones they’d shared earlier in the game. And what harm was there, if it was? Brian was a charming man, and she deserved a little fun.
 
 

Brian adjusted his day planner on the table, using the maneuver primarily to check his watch. Four-forty-five, and they were only on the second agenda item? This meeting would last until next week!

Geoff, his former boss and constant mentor, was sitting next to him. He jostled Brian’s arm, drawing his attention to a note written on his scratch pad. "Hot date tonight?"

Brian almost laughed out loud, but caught himself in time to scribble "Just bored" instead. No, a sane person would not consider tonight a hot date. He was doing the same thing he’d done most Wednesday nights for the past several years--spending an hour drinking wine and relaxing with Helen. Of course, Shannon would be there tonight, and his sanity was questionable where she was concerned.

The meeting went on interminably, but finally Chuck interrupted to say, "I’m sorry, but I need to catch the five-thirty bus. Could you guys handle the rest of this off-line?"

Terrence and John looked startled, but since they were the major ones this design detail affected, they mumbled their agreement. They launched back into their respective arguments as the room rapidly emptied.

That was one of the things Brian liked about working at DesignTek. The work environment was intense, with lots of pressure, but people were treated like adults who could manage their own responsibilities. Even more, they were expected to have lives outside of work, and to sometimes need to participate in those lives. A father with kids who played soccer could attend their afternoon games, and if someone said they needed to leave at a certain time, no one told them they couldn’t--or even that they shouldn’t. As long as people did the jobs they were hired to do, the company was satisfied.

Normally, Brian would have gone back to his office after the meeting and at least caught up on the day’s e-mail. But not today. He always looked forward to stopping off at Helen’s on Wednesday evening. Helen wasn’t like anyone else he knew. She liked him because of the person he was, not because of his looks, his job, or his credit cards. She didn’t keep track of favors given and received, either. She simply seemed to assume that the scales would naturally balance out.

But, in reality, as fond as he was of Helen, Shannon was the real attraction for him tonight.

Thursday was another wonderful day for Shannon. Despite Aunt Helen’s confidence in her, she’d been secretly afraid that making a quilt was beyond her capabilities. She remembered watching Aunt Helen measuring, cutting, sewing--and then grumbling and ripping out the seams she’d just sewn. Aunt Helen had made lots of clothes for Shannon and her mother when they lived with her. If quilt-making was hard for someone with all that sewing experience, wouldn’t it be too complicated for someone who barely knew which part of the machine to thread?

But Aunt Helen was a wonderfully patient teacher, and Shannon had learned that quilting primarily required careful attention to detail. When she sewed a seam on the machine, all she needed to do was align the two pieces of fabric properly, then sew them together, maintaining the proper quarter-inch seam allowance the whole way. Granted, that was easier said than done, but it was possible, and practice helped a lot.

Her quilt was actually beginning to take shape now. Well, a lay person might not think so, but she wasn’t truly a lay person any longer. Her first step had been to cut strips four inches wide of each of her seven different fabrics. Then she made what the instruction book called sheets, sewing strips of fabrics together lengthwise in the specified order. Today, Aunt Helen helped her to cut the sheets crosswise into strips, so that she ended up with strips made up of four-inch-square blocks of the various fabrics.

The final step--of this part of the process, at least--was to sew the strips together in the order listed in the book. She’d just finished sewing the first two strips together, and, like magic, the Around the World pattern began to emerge. Only seven more seams, and she’d be able to see the whole thing!

"Those colors are great." Brian’s voice came from behind her.

She spun around. "I didn’t hear you come in."

"You were concentrating," he said. "I’m sorry to interrupt, but I just got home from work and it’s so nice outside that I’m going to take a walk." He smiled, making her melt inside. "It’s been rainy most of the time since you got here, and I thought you might like to go with me."

Go with him? Anywhere! She couldn’t say that, though, so she struggled to think through his suggestion, and whether she actually could go. "That would be great, but I’d better check with Aunt Helen about dinner."

Aunt Helen was in the kitchen, and she smiled when Shannon asked. "That’s a good idea, dear. You’ve been working awfully hard on your quilt all week, and the fresh air will do you good. Dinner won’t be ready for another half hour at least." Before they could leave, she added, "And Brian, why don’t you come back for dinner? I’ve made plenty."

He shook his head. "Thanks, but not tonight." To Shannon, he said, "You might want a jacket. It’s not warm out."

"Take one of mine from the hall closet," Aunt Helen suggested.

She put on a lightweight white jacket, and as they passed the half-bath just inside the front door, she realized that her hair was probably a mess. She couldn’t do anything about that now, though, and anyway, Brian had already seen it.

"Let’s walk around the lake," he said as they crossed the courtyard. "Have you done that yet?"

"No. I’ve just seen it out the window." The best view was from her bedroom, and even that showed only a small sliver of lake between buildings. Even on rainy days, she’d seen a number of people doing what seemed to be laps around the one-third mile circumference lake.

"Has Helen told you the history of the Commons?" It had to be her imagination, but his voice sounded different now that it was just the two of them. A little more confiding, maybe.

"Pretty much, I guess. She told me how it’s all been developed in the last six years or so, and that Tualatin didn’t have a downtown before this." They’d made it to the park area across from the condo complex, and she had her first good view of the whole lake. "This is impressive--the lake’s so clean and pretty, and all the buildings have the same classy look."

He smiled. "You’d never believe it was the same place as when I bought here. Our complex and the hotel over there had been built, but everything else was mud."

"What made you choose to live here? Your condo? I know Aunt Helen really loves hers."

"I guess it was the layout of the condo, and the ponds in back. There are windows in every room, which is great, and the living room and my bedroom both look out at one of the waterfalls. I love hearing them whenever I have my windows open."

"Isn’t it fairly far to work? Aunt Helen said you work at DesignTek, and I remember that being up by Washington Square." They crossed the area of tile and metal grates that made up the fountain the Commons was famous for. Aunt Helen had told her the fountain was turned off until the first of April.

"DesignTek moved several years ago. We’re just a few miles south of Tualatin, on our own campus. It only takes me ten minutes to get to work."

She asked about his job, and they talked about that for the next few minutes. Then he stopped and gestured at the lake. "We’re at the opposite end of the lake from the condos now. As often as I come here, I still find that it looks strange to me."

She leaned on the railing at the edge of the lake, seeing the lakefront side of the apartment building she’d seen from the sewing room all week. From this angle, though, the restaurants and offices on the ground floor were the most noticeable. "You’re right. It looks totally different. I had no idea that building was so large."

He didn’t respond right away, so she turned her head to look at him. He was staring at her, something like amazement in his expression. After a moment, he asked, "Will you go out with me?"

She opened her mouth and the answer came rushing out. "Yes."

"Dinner on Saturday?"

She nodded. She couldn’t look away, and he didn’t. His eyes were the color of molasses, and they called to her. Her mouth dried and her head felt so disconnected from the rest of her body that she might pass out.

He reached out and touched her cheek with a single finger. First with just the tip, but then, as though it couldn’t resist the temptation, the whole finger pressed against the curve of her cheekbone.

The touch calmed her, grounding her senses in her body again. But it did something more. It wiped out everything that had ever happened before, every person who had ever touched her.

She waited for him to kiss her. He had to.

But he didn’t. After they spent a few moments in that world far away, his finger slowly retreated and he released a huge breath. "We should go back."

She wanted to protest that they couldn’t. She wasn’t the same person she’d been five minutes ago. Then, she’d been intrigued by Aunt Helen’s neighbor who was as nice as he was handsome. But since then, she’d fallen headfirst into something she didn’t have a name for. It wasn’t love, she was smart enough to know that. But if this was lust, no wonder a lot of otherwise intelligent people behaved stupidly when under its influence.

He wasn’t talking about how she felt, though, so she forced herself to look down at her hands gripping the railing and said, "Right. Should we go back the way we came, or the rest of the way around the lake?"

"We’ll save the rest for another day," he said and started back across the Commons.

The walk seemed to take no time, even though they were both totally silent. Before she thought of a single worthwhile thing to say, they were crossing the rounded gray paving stones of the courtyard. Then they stepped into the entryway that Brian’s and Aunt Helen’s units shared, and she wished they were a million miles away. Somewhere with no other people. Somewhere where she wouldn’t have to say goodnight and go inside.

He stepped in front of her, and she looked up at him. He lowered his head toward her, slowly, gradually, as though the molasses of his eyes had affected his movements.

Finally--at last!--their lips met, in a meeting that was somehow a completion as well as a beginning. And when the kiss finally ended and Shannon went inside, all she knew was that Saturday night was a lifetime away.