11. Roman
When the Lincoln Navigator came down the long driveway, the sun flitting off the windows, the last of the night’s apprehension melted from my shoulders.
Isabel was here.
Nelson was already waiting at the bottom of the stairs when the Navigator pulled up. George hopped out to open the back door, but Isabel didn’t appear immediately. A full minute went by, and even Nelson leaped expectantly to the back door of the SUV.
And a realization hit me. The luminous nymph might suspect I was watching. Now I had to wonder if perhaps she was taking full advantage of my anticipation.
Last night it took optimal endurance not to visit the library to see whether she’d taken the handkerchief I left for her, accepting my invitation to be in the library every morning. The slenderest tendril of fear lurked inside me that it might still be there. I didn’t even want to contemplate that Isabel wanted nothing more to do with me.
Nelson came away from the back door of the Navigator with a big confectionary box, and darted to the side to make way for Isabel. And then she breezed from the car, seeming to walk on air toward the front door. And once again, seeing her left me breathless.
She wasn’t wearing her coat and I had a full view of her in black leggings, ballet flats, and an oversized white frilly top. She looked stunning. For a moment she stopped, turned her head and looked up at me.
The sun glaring off the window made it difficult for her to see me but judging from the shadow of a smile teasing her lips, she knew I was there. Which was a merciful upgrade from the empty glare of despair I’d seen in the camera footage from the foyer of the Belmont Hotel.
I watched until she disappeared into the house. How I was going to resist the temptation to leap up to the library’s second floor, God only knew. If ever there was a time to take a breath and be patient, it was now.
It was still all up to Isabel to decide whether or not I deserved her mercy.
If she accepted my overture, it would be just us in blissful secrecy for fifteen minutes each day. I couldn’t think of anything I’d ever looked forward as much as this.