By Jove (17 page)

Yes. Tomorrow. Tonight she didn’t want to have to think anymore. The pressure of his hands on her back increased and she gave into it, resting her head on his shoulder again. Her eyes felt incredibly heavy. “Yes, Julian,” she whispered.

“Go get some sleep. You’re worn out with all this upset,” he said, a few minutes—or was it hours?—later. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, yes? Will you let me take you out to Dmitri’s for a quiet evening?”

“Thank you. I’d like that.” She lifted her head and smiled at him as he released her.

“Then it shall happen. Good night, my dear.” He lifted her hand and kissed it in a charmingly courtly gesture. Only when she was partway home did she realize that it had been her left hand. The one without Grant’s ring on it.

…

Theo slept well that night, better than she had for a while. She ran back to her room after her final class of the day with Dr. Forge-Smythe to dress for dinner with Julian, choosing again the turquoise scarf to casually drape over her shoulders, then ran back to Hamilton Hall.

On the second floor she tiptoed past June Cadwallader’s office on her way to Julian’s. Walking past June’s office always gave her an uneasy feeling. This time was no exception. She could feel the woman’s cold eyes on her as she passed, and would have sworn that the temperature immediately outside her door was lower than in the rest of the hallway. Unfortunately, the department mailboxes were in June’s office. Theo usually waited until June was at lunch to check hers.

At the end of the hall she saw that Julian’s door was half closed. Should she come back? Then she heard Renee’s voice coming from behind it. She smiled and started forward.

“What do you mean, why didn’t I tell you who he was before? You never asked me,” Renee was saying plaintively. Theo stopped.

Julian’s voice answered, low and angry. “I distinctly remember commenting to you on several occasions that he seemed familiar. Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“I didn’t think it mattered. I assumed you’d figure it out yourself. After all,
I
never forget a man, even if I’ve never touched him. Marlowe knows, and so does Arthur, I think. Why don’t you yell at them? I didn’t think it mattered anymore, anyway,” she repeated. Theo could hear the pout in her voice.

“Of course it matters! The only one to defy me and get away with it—”

“He didn’t precisely get away with it, did he?”

Julian ignored the interruption. “—was right there before my eyes, the one they gave him when he returned to Athens! I thought he was some minor nobody from somewhere else. Concealed himself well, though not well enough. The unmitigated gall of him, daring to come here and interfere in my business, just like before! He’ll regret the day he set foot in my department. I’ll see to that—”

Theo backed down the hallway. Who were they talking about?

Julian’s door opened. Theo ducked hastily into one of the seminar rooms and peeked around the corner just in time to see Renee go striding down the hall, her cheeks an agitated cerise. What was going on?

She stayed in the seminar room to give Julian a few minutes to compose himself, and puzzled over what she had heard.
Who
had defied Julian, and concealed himself, and was interfering with him again? When she had counted ten minutes on her watch, she slipped out of the room and returned to Julian’s door.

“My dear Theodora,” he said as he rose from his desk with a smile, looking cool and unflustered. If she hadn’t just overheard his conversation with Renee, she would have assumed he had spent a quiet afternoon alone in his office.

“Look at these. Don’t they tempt you a little?” he said, spreading a sheaf of color brochures before her, all white and blue and gold, just as she as dreamed it.

Theo picked one up. “Of course they do. I don’t need these to be tempted to come. I just don’t know that I can afford to go.”

“And if that were not an issue? Would you come then?”

“I don’t know. It’s not a simple yes-or-no decision.” She traced a finger over the arc of the Ionian Islands on the map on the brochure’s reverse.

“I understand. Keep this and look it over. If you have any questions about the trip, you can ask me any time. Think about it over spring break next week. You’ll be here?”

“I’ll be fish-sitting for Dr. Waterman,” she reminded him.

“Ah, yes. That’s right.” He sat back down in his chair, looking thoughtful. “So you will. Hmmm.” He made a steeple of his hands and stared down at them for several long seconds.

“Julian?” she said softly.

“What? Oh, I’m sorry. Wool-gathering for a moment. Yes, think it over during the break. Perhaps something will happen to help you decide.” He smiled. “Wine, Theodora?”

…

On the Friday morning before spring break, Theo found an envelope on her desk when she came into her Latin class. She gave the students an impromptu translation exercise and opened the note.

Dear Theo,

I know that you’ve been avoiding me this week. Truth be told, I’ve avoided you as well. Not because I didn’t want to see you, but because I didn’t know what to say. I’ve hurt you, and for that I am more sorry than words can express. Pain has been my companion for so long that I can tolerate it well, but I should not expect that of others. And I love you too much to ever want to see you hurt in any way. That is the first point of this letter: to tell you that I love you, despite my behavior over the last months that might say otherwise. And despite what you may think about my feelings for anyone else. I will say it again: I love you, you alone, forever.

Second: Some weeks ago you said that you would give me until the end of spring break to pull myself together, and that we would decide then if we had a future. I know I feel quite certain of what my decision is, but I understand that you might not be so sure. Will you hold to that promise, and let me prove to you that I am capable of loving you as you deserve to be loved? Meet me Sunday night at the end of break, and you will see then the new man I have become.

I leave for Eleusinian this evening. If you wish to reply to this note, leave one in my department mailbox. I’ll check it after lunch and brave indigestion at June’s hands.

Third: There is no third point. So I’ll reiterate the first. I love you, Theo. And I live for Sunday, when I’ll finally be able to prove it to you.

—Grant

Theo reread the letter three times, feeling her throat tighten and ache with each reading. Did he love her as he said? Would he be able to prove anything to her by next Sunday? Would she be able to listen, to expose her still-raw wounds to him once more and trust him not to etch them deeper?

No. She couldn’t sort all that out right now, not with her Latin class sitting before her, shifting and sighing as they scribbled in their notebooks. There would be time enough for thinking it over next week. She pulled a piece of paper from the back of a notebook.

Dear Grant,

Thank you for taking time to write me before you leave.

She nibbled on the end of her pen. Might as well be honest.

You’re right; I was hurt. I’m sorry for having struck out in my hurt, like an injured animal at bay, but that’s precisely how I felt. I’m looking forward to a quiet week at Dr. Waterman’s to lick my wounds and help me feel a little more human again.

There. He’d know where she was, just in case.

I will do as we agreed and meet you on Sunday, and will listen to all that you wish to say to me. I’ll see you at eight o’clock in the Great Room, if that’s okay.

Close on a gracious note. This would not be the place to express her hope that Olivia sat on a porcupine next week, or was mauled by a bear in drag.

Safe trip to Eleusinian.

—Theo

Chapter Twelve

“One teaspoon, once a day. Maybe a little more in the tanks in my room and the kitchen; they tend to eat a little more—”

“—and don’t forget to keep an eye on the heaters for the tanks on the three-season porch. It’s all right, Dr. Waterman. I know the routine. I’ll take very good care of your fish.” Theo grinned at him.

“I know you will. I just worry about my little friends here. Can’t help it.” Dr. Waterman shrugged sheepishly and rumpled his hair.

“I understand. I hated leaving my cat with my parents when I came here. I miss her dreadfully, especially when I’m going to sleep at night and don’t feel her lying on my feet so I can’t turn over.”

He laughed. “That’s not a problem I have with my fish, thank goodness.”

She followed him down the hallway back to the living room and went to stare out the sliding glass doors to the bay below. The water was a glorious but very cold-looking blue. “Where’s this conference? Can I reach you on your cell phone if necessary?”

“Well, er I’m not going to a conference,” Dr. Waterman said, turning faintly pink above his beard. He looked away from her and picked some invisible lint from his coat sleeve.

“Oh.” Theo was nonplussed. It was none of her business where or why he was going away. “A vacation. That’s nice.”

“No, not quite a vacation. Actually,” he said in a rush, “I’m going to visit my wife.”

Huh? She blinked at him. “I didn’t realize you were married.”

He grimaced down at his sleeve. “We decided some years ago—career demands, that sort of thing—that we were better off living our lives this way. But we get together as frequently as possible. I don’t like to talk about it—it works for us, but others don’t always understand. I should have known you would, but I never got around to telling you.”

Oh, gosh. The poor man! “It’s no business of mine, Dr. Waterman. It must’ve been a hard decision to make, though, even if it’s what works best for you.”

“It was. I miss ’Trite a great deal. But we’re both happier this way.” He looked up at her and smiled. “You’re a good girl, Theo. I’m glad you’re my student.”

She walked him out to his car and waved as he drove down the long driveway, then wandered around the corner of the house to the patio that overlooked the water. But it faced east and was too shady and chilly this time of the year. Instead she went back around and sat down on the front steps in the fickle March sunshine.

How sad for Dr. Waterman. Theo liked him very much, and found his friendly paternal manner with her comforting. He should have had a house full of boisterous teenaged children and a charming, loving wife instead of tank after tank of rare fish and sea life. What was this mysterious wife like, whom he could live neither with nor without? Probably a female Grant Proctor, she thought with a smile. If she were to stay with Grant, would they end up like this? Unable to handle being together but unable to part?

“Mmmmreooow?”

Theo started and looked around. That had sounded just like—but it couldn’t be. “Dido?” she called incredulously.

“Mmmmrrurrph.”

A large cat ambled up the driveway, sleek and gray, with a magnificent fluffy tail. It stopped in the center of the circular drive, stared at Theo, then uttered a joyous “prrrt?” and trotted up to her.

“Hello, handsome,” Theo said, reaching down to let the cat sniff her before running her hand down its back. It didn’t feel like a stray. Too well-groomed and fed. “You must belong to a neighbor. I thought you were my Dido for a minute. You sounded just like her.”

The cat closed its eyes as she rubbed the side of its face and sat down next to her.

Theo chuckled. “I get the hint, buddy. All right, I don’t have anything else to do just now.” She smiled down at the furry face. The cat regarded her through eyes half closed in ecstasy, and began to purr loudly.

“I’ll bet Dr. Waterman doesn’t like you hanging out here, just in case you take a fancy for a bit of fresh fish for dinner, huh? God, I miss having a cat around. Tell you what. I won’t tell him you were here if you promise to behave yourself, okay?” She switched to rubbing the cat’s other cheek, and the purr grew louder.

There was nothing like a purring cat to help put life into perspective. “Maybe you’re what Grant needs,” she mused aloud. “A cat might be able to teach him a thing or two about immediacy and proximity. Not to mention the joys of snuggling.”

Right on cue, the cat reached up and put a tentative paw on her leg. Then it climbed half onto her lap and gazed up at her worshipfully. She reached under its chin to scratch it there.

Grant. And Julian. She would have to think about both of them now. Two men were trying to convince her to spend the summer with them, Grant with words of love, Julian with —what? What would Grant have to say to her on Sunday that was so important—and so mysterious that she might not believe him?

“Murrrn,” the cat said with a reproachful glance as she stood up and dumped it to the ground.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” She glanced up at the sun sinking behind the trees. “Anyway, it’s starting to get dark. Time you went home. Bye, kitty.” She bent down and rubbed its head for a minute, then turned to the door.

“Mreeeee?” the cat said, close on her heels.

“Hey, stop that! This isn’t your house,” she said, blocking the doorway with her foot. “Go to your own home. I’ll see you later.” She slipped through the narrow opening and shut the door firmly behind her.

…

It was nice to just eat and sleep and stare at Dr. Waterman’s hypnotic fish. She didn’t open even one of her books for the next two days, and exerted herself only enough to drive into school to feed the fish there and stop at the store for necessities. In the afternoons she pulled a chaise longue from the terrace around to the western side of the house and sat in the sun, happy to be outside for a little while after the vile weather of the winter. Every afternoon the cat came back to visit her and climbed purring into her lap to be petted as she relaxed in the chaise and thought of nothing. It was positively idyllic.