Heart in the Field (30 page)

           
“No. I’ll walk. Thanks.”

           
The colors of the autumn leaves were
now beginning to dull a little, and the air was fragrant with smoke, but there
was still
a warmth
to the air as Serena strode back
through the village to her house. She realized she had expanded as a person in
the past weeks. It wasn’t all Nick. Some of it was her renewed relationship
with Seth and the family outings with her mother. But most of it was Nick. He’d
taken away the heavy weight of her father’s legacy and replaced it with some
good times.
         

           
These last few nights, after
lovemaking, they had talked a lot about their philosophies and the places they
had visited in their lives, mentally and physically. They both had hilarious
stories of goof-ups while on air, and they related so much on that plane.
Serena thought she was as much a tonic for Nick as he was for her.

           
If he wasn’t leaving, she thought as
she pushed her key into her front door, then she was sure she would be planning
a wedding.

           
She found Pascal sleeping by her
desk. The number one showed up on her answering machine and she pressed play.

           
“Serena. It’s Angela. I called Steel
TV but they told me you were at home today. They wouldn’t give out your cell
phone number, but your home number was written on the card you gave me. I want
to make arrangements for that interview. Could you meet me by Max on Wednesday
afternoon at two o’clock? If you’re not there I’ll know that you don’t want to
do the program anymore. I hope to see you.”

           
“Yes,” Serena told Pascal. “Yes.
Yes. Yes.” And then she let out a loud, “Yahoo!”

Chapter Seventeen

Nick typed
in more items about Stuart Redding Brown and then stopped. He really wasn’t
very interested in the man anymore. He was more interested in the man’s family,
Serena,
Reeva
, Seth. Stuart Redding Brown had already
documented his own life in his book and in his newscasts. He’d died because
he’d been blown up in a country that had been besieged by war in that moment of
its history. For some reason Nick had lost something more than his intense
interest in Stuart Redding
Brown. He didn’t quite hold all of his philosophies quite so dear any more.

           
Leaning back in his chair, Nick
stared at the computer monitor. Then he twirled the chair around and stared out
of the window instead. What he wanted to do, deep down inside himself,
something he’d wanted to do all his life, was write his own books. Not just one
book but lots of books.
Non-fiction, fiction, whatever.
He just wanted to explore some of the themes he’d tried to explore in his
teens, before he’d gone on the run to learn more about life.

           
He picked up his coffee cup and
drained the rest of the contents. A day without Serena made him introspective.
Or had it been meeting Serena that had made him have more darn feelings about
things? He felt as if he’d opened a wound and let it bleed. But it wasn’t all
uncomfortable. It felt quite good to feel.

           
The phone rang and he hoped it was
Serena, but it was his mother and that surprised him.

           
“Nick. You don’t mind me phoning?”

           
“Of course not.
What’s up? How’s the ankle?”

           
“It’s very painful. Your father is
out at the moment and I wondered if you’d like to come over for a while. I’d
like to talk to you.”

           
“Sure.” Already he’d turned back to
the computer and was using the mouse to save and close his files. “It’ll take
me about half an hour.”

           
“I’ll have the tea on.”

           
“Mom.”

           
“What?”

           
“I’d rather have a beer if you’ve
got it.”

           
“Yes. We have beer.
Of course.
You can have one of your father’s.”

           
His mother was walking again now.
She limped to the door to open it. “I haven’t been out yet.”

           
“Do you want me to take you out?”

           
“No. It’s all right. Sit down. I’ll
get your beer.”

           
“I’ll get it.”

           
He went to the refrigerator where he
found half a dozen bottles on the top shelf. He rummaged in a drawer for a
bottle opener while his mother put a tall glass on the table beside her own tea
things. She sat in the chair he held for her. When his mother was comfortable
he sat down in the chair next to her. Not across from her. Not at the other end
of the table.
But next to her.
He never would have
done that before, but he felt something had changed. He was beginning to
suspect it might have been himself who had done the changing.

           
Maria put her hands on the table.
Nick saw she was a little shaky. “I’ve convinced your father to sell, Nick.”

           
He smiled with his relief that
things would go right. “That’s great. You won’t regret it.”

           
“There’s not much time left for
regrets, is there? But I can’t live here anymore, unfortunately, so we have to
move. You said you’d help?”

           
“Absolutely.
We’ll find somewhere nice and comfortable for you.”

           
Maria almost reached to Nick’s hands
on the table. “Your father is a very stubborn man. He hates to admit he’s
wrong. So he told me to let you know we have to move because of me. It’s
nothing to do with the store or his heart. He’s fine.” She smiled. “You
understand. Don’t say anything to him.”

           
“I understand. I’m just pleased
you’re giving me the chance to help you. If you don’t get moving now I might be
gone again by the time you made up your minds.”

           
His mother glanced away at the
fridge. “Do you want another bottle of beer?”

           
Did she not want him to leave again?
Or was that his imagination? Nick didn’t want to ask in case it was his
imagination.

           
Before he went home, he stopped in
at a real estate agent’s office close to his parents’ store and talked about
listing the store and apartment. He had sent the ball rolling.

           
There was a phone message from
Serena at home, but she didn’t answer her phone when he called back. He
wondered what she wanted. Was she lonely? Did she need him? He was amazed at
how anxious he could feel about her when he wasn’t with her. He missed her and
he was so pleased that they were together again.

           
He called again later but she still
didn’t answer her home phone or her cell phone. He was watching Pat
McHaney’s
This
is Science
show on Steel and hoping the phone would
ring when the doorbell pealed.

           
It was Serena in jeans, leather
jacket, leather gloves and leather boots. Her hair was in a braid.

           
“Guess what, Nick?”

           
He closed the door and leaned
against it. He’d never seen her so spontaneous. “I hope you’ve won the lottery.”

           
She grinned. “It’s not better than
that, but it’s close. Angela’s agreed to do the story. I have to meet her on
Wednesday with Max.”

           
He was pleased for her. She’d been
disappointed about this one. It was a story dear to her heart. “That’s great.
Really great.
What do you think she’s going to go for?”

           
She tugged off her leather gloves
and stuffed them into her jacket pockets. “Well, I haven’t actually talked to
her yet. I get the feeling this is sans Lawson. I don’t think he’ll know about
it.” She flipped her braid from her shoulder and perched on the arm of one of
his chairs. “As I drove down here, I decided that I want to get right into the
gritty emotional reasons for Angela being with this man. I don’t care about
what he did or why. I want Angela’s story.”

           
“I see that, but we’ll have to bring
in some of Lawson’s story.”

           
“Yes. I know, but I’m not sure how
yet. I’d like him to unfold with Angela’s story.”

           
“That could be the right approach.”
Nick rose to his feet. “What can I get you to drink?”

           
“Do you have any wine?”

           
“White on tap,
just for you.”

           
“Thanks.”

           
She removed her jacket to reveal a
dark blue ribbed sweater that hugged her breasts and left an inch of flesh
between the
belt
of her jeans. She followed him into
the kitchen, saying, “I went to get the Jeep overhauled today, and when I
picked it up I just kept driving here. I wasn’t sure where you were.”

           
He removed a bottle of wine from the
fridge and took two glasses down from the cupboard. “I was here and there. My
parents have agreed to move, so I’m putting their property up for sale.”

           
She leaned against the counter near
him. “That’s wonderful. We’ve got two things to celebrate.”

           
He poured the wine and handed her a
glass. They
clinked
glasses. “Cheers.”

           
“Cheers.”

           
He didn’t know what it was, but he
felt she wasn’t quite so close to him as usual. And it wasn’t the same reaction
he’d felt when he first met her, when he’d sensed her withdrawal. There was no
withdrawal. She was here, she was bright and she smiled a lot. She was excited
that Angela had agreed to do her show. But that wasn’t all. She was sure of
herself in a way he hadn’t seen her quite so sure of herself before. She seemed
to have power inside herself.

           
He knew it when she placed her arm
around his shoulders and kissed his mouth. She tasted of cold wine. “I want to
go to bed with you, Nick,” she whispered.

           
“Let’s drink our wine first.”

           
She put her head to one side. “What
now?”

           
“Nothing now.”
She irritated him like this. “I just want to drink our wine. I didn’t expect
you tonight.”

           
“Who did you expect?”

           
“Nobody.”
What was wrong with them? Why did he feel her difference made it difficult to
relate to her? Did he like being in control so much? Didn’t he like it when she
tried to show some initiative?

           
She dropped her arm from him and
walked back to the living room. He followed. She was sexy and magnetic in her
tight jeans and sweater. But he’d annoyed her. Her features were taut with
controlled feeling. Sipping her wine, she strolled around his room for a while.
She stopped by his desk and began leafing through his papers by his computer.
She pushed a few sheets of paper aside and picked up the book that had been
underneath.

           
She stared at the photograph on the
front. She showed the cover to Nick. “That’s what he used to look like when he
came home. He’d look nice when he walked through the door. But a few days
later, after he’d been into the whiskey, he’d get bleary-eyed and his hair
would be a mess. He had a pair of jeans with ripped hems and an old T-shirt
that he used to flop about in. Sometimes he picked me up from school when he
was home. His eyes would glitter. Stoned, you might call it. I didn’t know then
quite what he was. But I knew as I grew older.”

           
Nick sipped his wine and perched on
the arm of a chair. A thin wire might have been stretched between them.

           
She looked at him. “Did you know he
was a druggie?”

           
“It’s in his book.”

           
“Well, he was what you could call an
honest journalist. He told the truth.”

           
“If you want to find out, read his
book? I think it’s about time you did. Do you good.”

           
She kept the book in one hand, her
wine in the other. “You keep telling me that. The only thing that does me good
and gets rid of my frustration is having sex with you. That’s what it’s come
down to. I’m seeing a
man
who is like my father, and
it’s good for me, but it’s going to end for me as well.
Like
he ended.”
She flung the book on his desk and it skidded to a stop
beside his empty coffee cup from the afternoon.

           
His heart felt heavy for her because
he did love her. He just didn’t really know what to do with that love. He
didn’t want to tell her how he felt, only to discover she didn’t return his
love. For all he knew, she might be on a sexual roll. The same one he was
supposed to be on. Luckily, he was well equipped to play act until the end.
After that, well, he’d just have to figure out what to do when the time came
for them to part.

           
He shrugged his shoulders to release
a lot of tension. “I’m not planning on getting killed.”

           
She looked him in the eye and then
stared at his scar. “How do you know that the next bullet might not be lower?”

           
“That’s a risk I take. We wear
bullet proof vests.” He hated himself for sounding so damn cavalier about
safety.

           
She finished her wine in a couple of
gulps, and put down the glass. “I was going to stay tonight but I guess I’m not
now.”

           
“What changed your mind?”

           
“You.”

           
“You’re not driving home after that
wine.”’

           
“I’m okay.”

           
She wasn’t. He knew one way to stop
her leaving. He placed his own untouched glass on a table. She was standing in front
of him, breathing hard. He took hold of her hands and found them cold. He
rubbed her fingers between his hands to warm her.