A Minute to Smile (11 page)

“Oops,” said Jeremy.

Esther laughed. “I guess we weren’t destined to have beans and corn bread tonight. How about a trip to the sub shop?”

“Yahoo!”

“Let’s go find your brother.”

Alexander sat on the front porch while Daniel showed him magic tricks. The boy was actually quite good, surprising Alexander two or three times with optical illusions and clever sleight of hand.

“One more,” Daniel said, “But you have to close your eyes for a minute so I can get ready.”

Alexander obliged, gently swinging himself back and forth on the porch swing. Nearby, a wren chirped cheerfully. The scent of a riotously blooming spirea bush wafted over the wooden railings and a cluster of honeybees grumbled happily to themselves over the abundance of nectar.

“I’m ready,” Daniel said.

Alexander opened his eyes. Daniel’s large, luminous eyes shone and he tossed an errant lock of dark hair from his forehead. Struggling to keep a straight face, he said, “I have a penny, see?”

“I see.”

Daniel waved his hands, biting his lip in concentration, then held up both, palms out. “Now it’s gone.”

“Why, so it is.”

“No,” Daniel returned, shaking his head with mock puzzlement. “Here it is!” He reached over and touched Alexander’s ear, pulling out the penny. “What were you doing with it in your ear?”

Delighted, Alexander chuckled. “I’ll have to start calling you Merlin.”

“Who’s Merlin?”

“The best sorcerer that ever lived, that’s who—and he’d be quite impressed with your talents.”

Esther emerged from the house, Jeremy holding her hand. Her skirt was wrinkled, the hem dusty, her bare feet grass stained. All of her makeup from the morning had worn away and he could see how tired she was in the faint blue circles below her eyes. This was no young girl, he thought. A small tracing of lines showed at the corners of her eyes.

And yet, he felt a quickening in that ill-behaved portion of his anatomy. He would have liked to pull her into his lap and hold her until the weariness of the day had drained—then he would kiss her until she trembled with quite another emotion. Then, in the aftermath of passion, he would listen to the recounting of the days that had given her the character no young girl could hope to share, would share in turn the seasonings of his own days.

“Was Daniel showing you his magic tricks?” she asked with a smile.

“He said I should be called Merlin,” Daniel announced.

“I hadn’t thought about it before,” she said seriously, “but he’s exactly right.” She gave Alexander a grateful look and he felt as if he’d performed a great and difficult task, rather than simply allowing himself to be entranced by a sweet, smart child. “Thank you,” she said.

“It was my pleasure.” He stood up. “Did you take care of your problem?”

“You must think I’m horrible,” she said, lowering her eyes.

He glanced at Jeremy, who dug through the box of magic tricks with energetic curiosity. “He seems to have come through it all right,” he said dryly.

“Maybe I finally got through to him.” She blew a wisp of hair off her face. “Unfortunately, I also burned the corn bread for dinner. Daniel, get your things picked up. We’ll walk over to the submarine shop for some sandwiches.”

“All right.” With a mischievous giggle, he lifted the box of tricks over his head.

“Mr. Literal,” Esther said with a smile. “Put your things
away,
Daniel.” She glanced at her skirt. “I guess I’d better change. Do you want to walk along with us?”

“I have another idea,” he said with a smile, taking pity on her long day. “I’ll take the children ‘round to the shop and get your sandwiches while you treat yourself to a nice shower and a few minutes of quiet.”

She shook her head. “That’s very sweet—”

“Please,” he cut in. “I’d like to.”

“Alexander, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

“It’s two blocks there and two blocks back.”

Daniel added his voice. “We’ll be good, Mom.” He nudged his brother. “Won’t we?”

“There, you see?” Alexander said with a smile. “We’ll be fine. And,” he added, “imagine how much better you’ll feel by the time we get back.”

The doubt in her face wavered, warring with the promise of a few blissfully quiet moments. Her full red lips quirked finally into a grin. “You win. I’ll get the money.”

He almost protested, but realized she would argue again. Turning to the boys, he said, “You mustn’t disappoint your mother, now. She’s very tired tonight, and we’re going to be kind and let her relax a bit, all right?”

“We’ll be good,” Jeremy said. “I won’t even be a raven this time.”

Esther returned with the money and a list of what she wanted. “Be sure to tell them that the bologna has
nothing
on it. Just bologna and bread, period.”

“That’s for me,” Jeremy said.

“Mommy likes egg salad with everything,” Daniel put in.

Alexander grinned at her. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.” He tucked the list and cash into his pocket and held out his hands. “Shall we, gentlemen?”

They each took a hand. “Be good boys,” Esther called behind them, “or else.”

As they set off down the sidewalk, lined with spruce and elm and cottonwood trees, the two small hands tucked in his own, Alexander felt a warmth spread through him. Aside from the pleasure of the children themselves, he liked knowing he could do something physical for her. Until that moment, he’d not been aware how much he missed giving his time to another human being.

* * *

When Alexander and the boys returned from the sub shop, Esther had spread a red-checkered cloth over the grass in the backyard. Her mood was much improved, thanks to the quick but reviving shower that had washed away the grime of day. And when Alexander had no tales of horror to report, she relaxed.

They ate together in the warm evening—even Alexander, who devoured a ten-inch pepper-steak sandwich in spite of the supper he’d already eaten.

Afterward, the boys begged for a lesson in tai chi. Alexander teasingly pretended to consider their request, pulling on his beard somberly. “I don’t know,” he said with a mock frown. “It’s a very serious thing.”

“Please?” Daniel wheedled, bouncing on his knees. A smile in his eyes showed he knew he was being teased.

Alexander stood up. “All right. Take off your shoes,” he said, shucking his. His fingers went to the buttons up his shirt and Esther had an instant to think,
oh, no,
before he’d shed that, too.

Her stomach flopped back and forth as she took in the sight of him, tanned and vigorous. His jeans were old and fit his long legs with almost loving closeness, showing the taut muscles of thighs and his high, firm rear end. Her eyes traveled upward over his washboard stomach and broad, golden chest, then to his face.

A slightly mocking grin met her appraisal. “Feel free,” he said in a husky voice, “to join us.” He glanced pointedly at her blouse.

“Very funny.”

He extended a hand. “Come on. Join us. It will make you sleep well tonight.”

A memory of the women sparring at the dojo flitted over her mind. She’d been wondering what it would be like to leash that power. Intrigued, she stood up.

He led them slowly through the exercises, step by step. “Grasp sparrow’s tail,” he said, lifting one hand, the other falling, his waist shifting.

They followed as well as they could. Esther felt a strange spell fall over her senses. His deep, accented voice was hypnotic, mesmerizing, and she felt herself moving with his words, imitating his body without self-consciousness. The exercises were difficult but somehow graceful and powerful.

“Carry tiger to mountain,” he said and the boys obeyed, both of them mimicking him well.

The sun behind them lowered in the sky and a band of deep yellow light fingered Alexander. Esther paused, caught by the beauty of the picture. His dark hair fell over his forehead and his muscles rippled under tawny skin as sleekly as those of a lion in pursuit of his prey. And once again, the controlled power of the discipline exhilarated her.

Realizing she had stopped completely, she hurried to take the next position and forced herself to concentrate on what she was doing, rather than on the man who illustrated it for her.

* * *

When evening fell, both boys were drooping. “Time for bed, guys.”

As she stood up, Alexander admired the smooth curve of her calves. Replete with the meal and the pleasure of the evening, it was easy to imagine simply reaching out to see if that curve was as silky as it looked. Reluctantly he stood up. “Let me help you gather all this up before I go,” he said.

She looked at him quickly. “Oh, I guess it
is
getting late.”

Her disappointment was unmistakable and satisfying. “Would you like me to stay?” he asked.

For a moment, he thought she would refuse. To the children, she said, “Go on inside, boys, and brush your teeth. I’ll be right there.” Then she raised her head and looked at him directly. “It won’t take long for me to get them to bed—a quick story and prayers and I’ll be back.”

It occurred to him that her evenings probably stretched as empty and lonely as his own. He also realized that she had no true idea of how enticing a picture she made against the soft light of the evening, her hair gold and copper along the edge of her shoulders. Her simple peasant blouse displayed a swath of white flesh at the scoop neck and for an instant, Alexander wished heartily that he could explore again the hollow of her throat, the lovely swell of her breasts and the soft cloud of her hair.

If he stayed, he would be fighting the physical temptation she presented for every single instant. And yet, she trusted him—he would have to stick to his promise. Could he do so?

“Will you let me hold your hand?” he asked finally.

She seemed to understand exactly what he was saying. Her wide brown eyes were serious. “Yes.”

And because there was so much more to her than the sheer power of her robust and beautiful form, he smiled. “I’m going to walk home and get my jacket. By the time you finish, I’ll be back. How’s that?”

“Fine.”

E
sther tucked her children safely into bed after listening to sleepily murmured prayers and checking to see that teeth had been properly brushed. As she headed back downstairs a sense of anticipation tugged her middle.

Alexander Stone.

He seemed almost too good to be true. She liked his ability to be honest with her and his easy way with the children. Often adults without children of their own mistakenly believed that their smallness of body indicated a small mind. Alexander seemed to understand that, while their young minds were still quite easily mystified and prompted toward wonder and excitement, they were quite capable of understanding ordinary conversation. Jeremy and Daniel, sensing his underlying respect, had played none of their games with him tonight.

On the landing of the stairs, she stopped to look out the window, hoping for a chance to watch him unobserved. And there he was, bent over the herb garden. She could only make out the light color of his jeans and jacket in the gathering darkness, but it was enough. He was so fantastically attractive and smart and kind…

She turned away from the window, a hand pressed to her tumbling stomach.
Whoa,
she told herself—
slow down. We’re going to be friends, remember?

But for the life of her, she couldn’t remember why she had thought that necessary. Men like Alexander Stone didn’t come along very often, after all, and he seemed genuinely attracted to her. He said she made him feel alive.

She smiled and went to the coat closet to get a jacket. Shadows had crept through the room and she reached for the buttons that turned on the dining-room light. As she punched the On button, a pop sounded and the light burned out. Again. Annoyed at the thought of standing up on the table to reach the ten-foot ceiling in the dark, she shook her head and found a jacket by feel. A fresh light bulb could wait until morning.

As she stepped into the kitchen, she realized the coat she’d chosen was an old jean jacket she had owned since college. Oversized and worn nearly white, it was embroidered with herbs and their Latin names. She chuckled to herself—it seemed harmless enough in light of her present occupation as the owner/operator of a natural foods emporium, but it had been a gesture of rebellion in those days.

Leaving the porch light off, she joined Alexander at the picnic table. He, too, had donned a light jacket.

“It’s already chilly,” Esther commented as she sat down. A cool wind lifted her hair. “My mother insisted that my father take her back to Georgia a few years ago—she said cold summer nights were uncivilized.”

“And you? Do you like the cool nights here?”

“Hot nights are miserable,” Esther replied, thinking of Texas, where they had lived when she was in late grade school. “You can’t sleep and the sheets get tangled and when you wake up, you have to start all over again.”

“But what of the romance of sultry summer nights?” he teased.

Esther shrugged. “When it’s that hot, who wants to get cozy with another sweaty person?”

He laughed. The sound came from deep within his broad chest, ringing into the still night like the notes of an oboe, reedy and rich. Esther realized she hadn’t heard him really laugh before and was delighted to find what a unique tone there was to it. “Good point,” he said, “but terribly practical.”

“Believe it or not,” she countered, tucking her feet beneath her skirt, “I am a very practical person.”

“Is that so?” Light spilled from the kitchen window, touching half his face. Amusement lifted one side of his mouth and mustache.

“Yes, I am.”

He reached over to touch the sleeve of her jacket, his index finger tracing the embroidered stem of lavender on the worn cuff. “Your manner of dress says something to the contrary.”

She waved a hand. “This is a college relic and not admissible as evidence.”

“What did you study?” He drew a bottle of beer from the tin bucket she’d filled with ice and she watched him twist the top and drink, wondering irrelevantly what it would feel like to have hair on her face all the time.