Chapter Ten #3
“I didn’t think about it when it was still light. I know right where the switch is,” she replied, unwilling to end the evening. “Want to come in for coffee?”
“Another time. I have another work day tomorrow on the Millers’ place.”
He drew her slowly into his arms and kissed her. Angelica closed her eyes and let the magic of the moment sweep her away. Kirk made her feel like the most precious thing on earth.
Angelica didn’t know what changed Kirk’s mind, but the next few days were more fun than she’d ever had in her life. They went back to the waterfall and pool. She still didn’t have a bathing suit, but it didn’t matter. They enjoyed another picnic and splashed each other until they were sopping wet.
They walked to the general store one afternoon and got ice cream cones, trying to lick the ice cream before it could melt in the heat and run down their arms.
Kirk took her on several hikes through the forests.
She relished the bird songs, the soft rustle of the leaves and the dappled shade.
Appreciating them even more knowing he didn’t hear them.
She couldn’t imagine not hearing. How would she live without music or the other sounds that were in her life?
Another thunderstorm had them cooking on an open fire, kissing, talking about anything that came up, and kissing.
She was beginning to wish there’d be more storms—as long as she lived next door to Kirk.
He never pushed her, never took her for granted.
She fell more and more in love which made the decisions that much harder.
Time was running out. Her agent was pressuring her to get back to New York and begin rehearsals. She’d never formally accepted the tour, holding off just in case there was another major change in her life—like Kirk falling in love with her.
But much as she enjoyed being with him, she saw nothing in him that gave her hope.
Still, she spent as much time as she could when he asked her out. They had to work around practice with the children and with Hiram. Plus her own practice. But they had plenty of quiet time together.
She loved to wander to the studio and watch him work. The sculpture was amazing. The individual trees now showed definite detail. The figure on the brink was still untouched. He said he was keeping that fine detail work until last. He wouldn’t be finished before she left.
Would he send her a picture when it was complete? She asked, he said yes, but the answer was vague and didn’t satisfy her. Maybe she’d get his grandfather to promise.
Every day he held hands, kissed her, and sometimes she didn’t think he’d let her go.
She was so deep in love by the day before the music festival she couldn’t think straight.
She wanted Kirk to be proud of her at the festival.
But how much could he really hear? Would he enjoy it as much as she hoped all the others would?
She was also nervous for Sam. The hours he’d put into practice really paid off. He was as ready as could be, but the last couple of days he’d seemed reluctant. He wasn’t getting stage fright, was he?
At least she didn’t have to worry about Hiram getting stage fright.
He talked about showing off to Marlene Parker every day.
If nothing else, he’d do it to prove to that woman that the feud from years gone by was over.
And he came out on top. Angelica wondered what caused the feud, but he never told her, just kept saying wait until Marlene saw him singing again.
The afternoon before the festival it rained. Sam came dragging in trailing his umbrella. He was soaked.
“You need to dry off before you can use the fiddle,” she said, surprised at how wet he was.
“I might get a cold and be sick tomorrow,” he said, eyeing the violin with some trepidation.
“Even with a cold, you can play. Unless you break all your fingers and your jaw, you can play,” she said leaning over to look him right in the eye.
“It’s what we do as musicians. We play when we said we would.
People are coming from all over to hear you.
How would you feel if you went someplace expecting something and it wasn’t there? ”
“Everybody plays better.”
“Not true. Most people in the audience couldn’t play a single note. They love to listen to music, but they can’t make it. There are some there better than you, some worse. Some have studied longer, but you have talent and the desire to succeed.”
She brushed his damp hair off his forehead.
“You know I’m leaving in a couple of days,” she said.
“I don’t want you to go,” he said looking so woebegone she almost smiled.
She wished Kirk had said those words.
“I know, but my life is back in New York. I’ve had a wonderful vacation here. And I’ll always remember our practicing together. So you have to do one more thing for me and play your very best tomorrow.”
He nodded, scuffing his wet sneakers.
“I wish you’d stay here. What if Webb Francis doesn’t want to teach me? What if he won’t teach Teresa Ann?”
She hugged the child, wondering the same thing.
“He will.”
She hoped she was right.
“Ick, you’re all wet,” she said, stepping back.
He giggled.
“Come on back and you can have some milk and cookies and I’ll dry your shirt in the dryer.”
It was bittersweet watching him practice for the last time. She’d never thought she’d enjoy teaching so much. She was as proud of him as she would have been of her own mastering of a difficult piece.
Teresa Ann showed up and the two children squabbled and practiced and both asked her to stay and never go away.
Angelica hugged them both when they left, promising to meet them at the festival. She and Teresa Ann were going to be backstage when Sam played.
Kirk came over after the children left. She was going to miss him even more than the children. She didn’t want to think about that. Despite her earlier assertion, she’d fallen big time for this man.
And he’d never even hinted she should stay.
“Want to go for a ride?” he asked.
“Sure.”
The last few days were hard to live through. She was saving up memories like mad. She didn’t want to forget a single moment of her wonderful summer.
A short time later they were flying along the quiet country road, wind seeping beneath the helmet, warm and humid. Clouds built in the west. Another storm? Or would it blow north of them? The green trees sped by, and the air was fragrant, rich and moist.
Angelica hugged Kirk, relishing the feel of him against her, wishing they could ride like this forever.
She’d never forget her summer in Smoky Hollow.
Would she come back?
It might be too hard to see Kirk again once she was used to not being with him. Better for her state of mind to focus on where to go next and not yearn for the impossible.
She had the tour in Europe, another season with the symphony. Other concerts.
Somehow the future didn’t look as exciting as it once had.
It was dusk when they returned. Rumblings in the distance signaled the storm was heading their way. Would they lose power like the last time?
He drove up to his house and stopped.
“Come in and eat with me,” he invited. “Or we could go to the diner.”
“Don’t you think it’s going to rain soon? Probably safer to stay here.”
They prepared the meal together, she making the salad and setting the table, Kirk grilling two steaks and corn on the cob. From time to time, Angelica stopped working to look at him. Once he turned his head and caught her gaze.
He cocked an eyebrow in silent question, but she merely shook her head and resumed her task, not wanting him to know she was memorizing every move he made to remember forever.
“Nervous about tomorrow?” he asked when they were eating.
“Not so much. I’ve done this a lot. Not this song or to this audience. I’m more concerned about Sam. He’s practiced so hard. I want him to do well.”
“He’ll do fine. No one will expect virtuoso level from him. This is his first time and he’s only eight.”
However they would expect a virtuoso level from her. She sometimes wished she played for fun and not as a career. Could she enjoy it more, be more forgiving of mistakes?
“When are you leaving?” Kirk asked, studying the iced tea in his glass.
She waited until he raised his gaze to hers.
“The day after tomorrow. I have responsibilities that I can’t get out of. I wish I could blow them off, but I’m not made that way.”
“We knew you’d be leaving,” he said, his dark eyes fascinating her.
She wished he’d ask her to stay, or at least say he didn’t want her to leave like Sam had.
“Do you ever go to New York?” she asked, desperately longing for something to hold on to.
He hesitated a moment as if in thought, then slowly shook his head.
“This is my place,” he said.
She knew that. Here he was needed. Here he could do what he did best, helping his neighbors, making amazing wood sculptures. This was his place.
But it wasn’t hers.
“Webb Francis called today, his sister is bringing him early to the festival. He’s determined to get a front row seat,” she said, deliberately changing the subject before she burst into tears.
“I heard from him, too. We’ll probably sit together. I’ll be bringing my grandfather. Do you need a ride?”
She shook her head.
“I’m going with Sam and his parents. And Teresa Ann.”
When the dishes were done the rain began.
“I’m going to dash home now before it gets worse,” she said, watching the first of the drops splash against the kitchen window. The breeze blew it almost sideways.
“You’ll get soaked.”
“No telling how long it’ll last. I can dry off before bed this way.”
He walked her to her door, despite her protest he’d get twice as wet. The porch was sheltered from the rain, the sound loud against its roof.
Kirk cradled her head in his hands, his thumbs rubbing lightly against her cheeks as he stared down into her eyes. She could hardly see him in the darkness, only the light from the back of the cottage shone through the windows giving faint illumination.
“You’re very special, Angel. I wish for you the best life has to offer.”
He kissed her, softly, sweetly. Then dropped his hands.
“See you tomorrow.”
She watched as he ran across the lawn and disappeared into the night. His figure was blurred—from the rain or the tears that now fell she wasn’t sure.
“I love you,” she whispered into the night.