This Very Moment (13 page)

“I’ll be back in a minute.” He turned on his heel and left. Once in his room, he headed directly toward the connecting bathroom. He stood under the shower for a long time, and then dressed quickly—as though afraid Kylee would have tired of waiting and disappeared.

But her dimpled face greeted him above a large bowl of cut-up bread. “I thought you’d drowned.”

“I’m a good swimmer.”

“You’ll have to show me sometime. Right now I need to find out how to work this oven. I got the turkey in, but it seems you have to be a computer programmer to figure out how to turn it on.”

“Sorry.” Bill pressed a few buttons. “It’s not really as complicated as it looks.”

“So you got it right the first time?”

Bill grinned self-consciously. “Okay, I did have to read through the manual a few times to get the hang of it, but it does a wonderful job cooking. You can even program it to change the temperature by itself partway through.”

“That would come in handy for pumpkin pie.”

“How long do you want me to set it for?”

She grinned. “Until it’s done. I’m not sure how long it’ll take. It’s a small one, though, so set it for three hours. That ought to do it.”

Bill did as she asked. When he finished, she dropped boxes of orange and red gelatin into his hands, and he mixed them in separate pans as Kylee finished the stuffing. While they worked, they talked about the money coming in for Children’s Hope, Bill’s job, and Kylee’s family. Bill couldn’t remember when he had felt so relaxed and content.

“Well, that’s it,” Kylee said, as she poured her homemade cranberry sauce from the pan into a serving dish. “Now we just have to wait for the turkey.”

“Then we have time to go swimming.”

“Swimming?” She glanced out at the sunlit world beyond the window. “The sun is shining, but it’s still rather cold for swimming. There’s a breeze.”

“Ah, yes, but we have an indoor pool. And a hot tub.”

“I don’t have a swimming suit.”

Bill was at once deflated. “Oh, yeah.”

Kylee laughed. “Don’t look so disappointed. I can wear a pair of your shorts and a shirt—if you really want to go.”

Bill smiled, remembering the first night he had lent her his clothes. “Okay, but don’t make a habit of it. You still haven’t returned my clothes from the last time.”

“Oh, I completely forgot. I did wash them, and I put them in a sack—somewhere. I’ll look for them tonight.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’ve been busy, and I have other clothes.” He thought her consternation adorable. “In fact, keep them. Use them as pajamas or something.” The idea appealed to him.

“All right, I guess. But I’m not in the habit of taking people’s clothing.”

“Or of staying overnight at a man’s condo. It seems you’re doing a lot of things lately that you don’t ordinarily do. Is this a phase you’re going through?”

Kylee rolled her eyes. “Do you want to go swimming or not? Boy, you’re getting to be exactly like my little brother. He never quits teasing.”

“Sounds like my kind of guy.” For some reason Bill didn’t like being compared to her brother.

Upstairs in his room, Bill gave her a pair of swimming trunks with a drawstring, so she could tighten them around her small waist. Then he let her pick out a thick navy blue T-shirt from his drawer. Once dressed, the trunks went past her knees, and the shirt nearly covered the trunks. He handed her a huge white beach towel.

At the pool, located a short walk from the back door of Bill’s condo, Kylee felt the water with her foot. “Good, it’s almost warm.” She threw her towel on a lounge chair and dove into the pool. The few people in the water glanced up briefly before returning to their conversations. Bill tossed the gym bag carrying their regular clothes onto the chair and followed Kylee. He tried to overtake her, but she was a strong swimmer. When he reached the far side of the pool, she was already there waiting.

“So that’s why you agreed to go swimming,” he said, trying to catch his breath.

She flashed him a smile. “I was our school champion, and I’ve gone swimming in just about every large body of water in the world. Swimming is the one exercise I’m not allergic to.”

“Next time we’ll try tennis.”

“I can’t play tennis.”

“Good.”

She splashed him and he splashed her back, both laughing like children.

“What’s this?” Kylee’s soft hand traced the wide scar that ran jaggedly from his shoulder down the length of his back.

“I was burned.” He didn’t need to add that it was on the train when Nicole had died; he saw in her eyes that she already knew. Instantly, he recalled the agony, the chilling screams, and his heart felt compressed into a small painful lump in his chest.

Without warning, Kylee pushed him under the water, taking him by surprise. Then she swam off again, and he followed, spluttering water. Kylee’s laugh echoed at his futile attempt to overtake her. The death grip on Bill’s heart lessened, and he silently thanked Kylee for the distraction.

When they tired of swimming, they went to soak in the steaming water of the hot tub. Kylee leaned her head back. “Ah, this feels good.”

It did. The heat seeped into Bill’s body and made him relax. “I never want to get back in the pool after being in here.”

“Why not? The change in temperature gets your heart beating. Makes you feel alive. Come on, try it.” She pulled him out of the tub and into the pool. Bill gasped as the comparatively cool water enveloped his body. Before he could fully adjust, Kylee said, “Now the hot tub again.” Once more he followed her, this time wincing at the heat.

“You know, I’m a doctor and I don’t think this is good for your body,” he feebly protested.

“Probably not. But you feel alive, don’t you? Tingly?”

Now that she mentioned it, he did feel vitally alive. “Yeah, I’m tingling all over.”

“In high school we used to go up to these hills where there was a natural hot spring near a cold river. We especially liked to go there in the winter. We’d go into the hot water and then into the cold river water and back again. Mmmm, delicious!”

Bill noticed that the other occupants in the pool had departed, and they were alone. Kylee sat very close to him, close enough for him to see the texture of her skin. So close that her leg touched his. Her borrowed shirt floated in the water about her without defining any curves, yet he felt more attracted to her than he ever remembered. He stared into her eyes for a long moment, saw her become aware of her effect on him. She didn’t move away but sat waiting, her eyes locked on his. It would be so easy to follow his emotions, to sweep her into his arms. And yet he couldn’t.

He eased away from Kylee under the pretense of adjusting the air stream in the tub.

“We’d better change and get back to the house,” she said. “I need to check the turkey.” He felt more than saw her slip out of the water.

Good,
he thought.
Let’s not talk about it. Then we can pretend we’re still just friends.
What he didn’t admit to himself, at least not in words, was how much he had come to depend upon her in the last month. How, even when he wasn’t with her, thoughts of her filled his mind.

She stopped and squatted down near where he still sat in the hot tub, her clothes dripping water onto the decorative cement. Out of the water, her shirt clung to her body, and he couldn’t drag his eyes away. “Nicole would want us to be happy. I hope you’ll think about that.”

Before he could reply she was at the side of the pool, vigorously drying herself with the white towel and then heading to the small changing room.

Bill watched her leave, a numbness spreading through his body. He wanted to shout for her to come back, to cry out the pain of his past in her arms, but that meant he would have to offer her something more than friendship. Why couldn’t he do that?
I want to,
he thought. Maybe that was the first step—the desire to change. She was right about one thing; Nicole had always wanted his happiness.

He remembered Nicole once standing at the airport with him in Paris. Her face was somber, and tears pooled in her dark eyes. “Don’t cry,” he had murmured.

“I can’t pretend I’m not going to miss you.”

“It won’t be forever. A few more months and I’ll be home for good.”

She sighed and gave him a weak smile. “I know. And I’m okay with that. Really. I love you so much. The important thing to me is that you’re happy.”

He had held her then and kissed her, wishing more than anything that he didn’t feel obligated to return to America and his studies. Six months later he had finished and had come home to ask her to marry him. She said yes. A month more, and she was dead.

So much wasted time.

Bill shut his eyes and let himself sink under the hot water, hiding the tears that wet his face. He emerged, gasping for breath. Then he pulled himself out of the water, banishing all thoughts and feelings until he could examine them later—when Kylee had gone home.

Back at Bill’s place, they went about the meal preparations with no further incident. Once more, he relaxed and enjoyed her presence. She maintained a physical distance between them, but that only reassured him there would be no more awkwardness. He didn’t think he could handle another vision of Nicole or the turbulent emotions that accompanied each flashback.

When the table was set, Kylee asked if she could offer a prayer over the food, and Bill acquiesced without comment. She closed her eyes, bowed her head, and folded her hands, but he sat without moving and watched her as she prayed.

Afterwards, Kylee said, “While I was growing up, my family didn’t go to church or pray or anything, but at Thanksgiving we did tell each other what we were thankful for. And this time, Bill, I’m thankful we met again. I’m thankful for your friendship. I hope that we . . .” She paused, as though not knowing how to continue. “I hope it’s a long one. A long friendship, I mean.”

This was a custom Bill was comfortable with. “I’m also grateful for you,” he said with sincerity. “I’m really glad you came today.”

They finished the best meal Bill had eaten since he left France. Neither the expensive banquets he had attended, nor his favorite restaurant could compare to Kylee’s food. Or her company.

Later, after the clean up, they whipped cream and had barely sat down to eat Kylee’s pies when the doorbell rang. “More lady admirers?” Kylee teased.

“Not hardly. I’ve scared them off by now.” Bill opened the door to his elderly neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Simpton, both as thin as they were energetic.

“Hello, Dr. Dubrey,” said Mrs. Simpton. She caught sight of Kylee behind him. “Oh, we didn’t realize you had company. I just made some of my turkey-shaped cookies and wanted to bring you some.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Bill said. The woman had taken to baking him goodies several years ago when she realized he stayed home alone for every holiday. “But I do love your cookies.”

“I like to make them for you.” The lady’s sharp, questioning eyes were on Kylee.

“Come on in for a minute and meet my friend Kylee.” Bill made the introductions.

Kylee smiled. “We’re going to have some pie in the dining room. Will you join us? We have plenty.”

“Sure,” Mrs. Simpton said. “We’d love to.” Her eager eyes reminded Bill that he had never invited the couple past his entryway before.

Kylee served their guests. “This is great pie, young lady,” Mr. Simpton told her. “Just like my wife’s.”

“Thank you.”

They ate slowly, enjoying each bite. Bill had a second helping while Mrs. Simpton passed on the local gossip.