Capture the Wind for Me (19 page)

Still I hesitated. I wanted to take the credit for making a bang-up meal.

Katherine placed a hand on her hip. “Look. Are you planning on seeing Greg again this weekend? If so, you'd better not let anything slide around here. I've gone out on a limb for you; now don't blow it.”

What was this—all the sudden she was boss in our house? A retort sprang to my lips. I bit it back. Katherine was right; she
had
been a big help.

“Okay. I'm in my bedroom, doing homework. And on my way, I'm checking out Robert. How's that?”

She studied me, as if trying to figure if I was being smart. Then she flicked her eyes. “Listen to me, telling you what to do. Sorry. I'm . . . I just want the best for you.”

“It's okay. Thanks.”

Before holing myself in my bedroom—probably to do little more than daydream—I looked in on Robert. He sat propped against pillows on his bed, good knee up, reading a magazine. In the last few days school friends had covered his cast with get-well scribbles. Adults had signed it, too, as they'd stopped in to say hello, most of them bearing gifts. Grandma and Grandpa Westerdahl had brought Robert a new computer game, and Coach Crary had presented him with a stack of sports magazines he hadn't read. Seemed most of them were now scattered across his bed.

“Studying hard, I see.”

He grunted.

“Robert, just 'cause your leg's broken and you're the town hero doesn't mean you can let your studies slide.”

As if I had room to talk.

“I'm done with homework.”

“You are not.”

“Am too.”

I sighed. Amazing how my life could continue in such banality when pure magic had entered it. “Fine, Robert, do what you want.”

“Why not? They can't exactly kick me off the team for low grades now, can they.”

The bitterness in my brother's voice stopped me short. Suddenly I realized how self-centered I'd been the last few days. All caught up in Greg, not pausing to think how disappointed Robert must be in losing the rest of softball season. I slipped into his room and sat beside him. Brushed the hair off his forehead.

“I'm sorry. This must be awful hard for you.”

He let the magazine fall closed and stared sightlessly across the room.

“Robert. You helped win the game for your team. And your leg will heal. You'll be able to play next year.”

“What if it won't?” He turned toward me, pain in his eyes. “What if it's messed up, and I can't ever run right again?”

“From what I've heard, that's not what the doctor said.”

The faint sound of cabinets opening and closing filtered in from the kitchen. Robert ruffled the pages of the magazine with his thumb. “But what if he's wrong, Jackie? What if one stupid move will cost me for the rest of my life?”

My fingers stilled on his head. What a horrible thought. Surely God would not let that happen. “Robert, I honestly don't think that will be the case. You can't let fear of the future keep you from doin' the things you should be doin' now, while you're in the cast. And you know you've got people prayin' for you.”

He nodded solemnly. “Yeah.”

I gave his shoulder a squeeze, then stood, sensing he'd said all he wanted on the subject. “Suppose I better do my own homework.”

He gave another grunt. “You're not doin' homework; you're starin' at that guy's picture.” He picked up his magazine and flipped to where he'd been reading.

Oh, fine, that's the appreciation I got. “Thank you, dear brother, for your learned opinion.”

I closed his door firmly on my way out.

Two hours later, my homework done, believe it or not, I stood in the kitchen with Katherine, making a salad. Clarissa sat at the table, miraculously working on her math by herself.

The phone rang. Miss Connie was on the line, sounding worried. I handed the phone to Katherine.

Apprehension darted across her face. “Hi.” She disappeared into the family room, her voice lowering. I frowned at her back. Something wasn't right, and I did not like the unsettled feeling that kicked through me. Nothing could go wrong tonight. Nothing.

I slipped out of the kitchen toward the entry hall, then eased toward the open archway door of the family room, listening.

“How many times has he called?” Katherine hunched over the phone, her back to me. Who could she be talking about? Couldn't be Daddy.

“All you can do is say the same thing we've been saying—I don't want to see him.”

She paused.

I heard the dog flop down in the kitchen. “Get off my feet, Winnie,” Clarissa complained.

“What makes you think that?” Katherine gave her head a disgusted toss. “If he keeps calling and harassing us, I'll report him.” She ran a hand through her hair, sighing. “Okay. Thanks, Mama. Have a good time at the Clarks' tonight.”

Katherine hung up the phone and stared at it mindlessly. I sidled back into the kitchen. By the time she appeared I stood before the salad bowl. I stole a look at her profile, apprehension coiling through my stomach.
I don't want to see him.
The words sounded so threatening, so frightening for Daddy, that I could only push them away. Whatever this was from Katherine's past, she'd handle it. Her past didn't matter now, I told myself. She'd come back to Bradleyville for Daddy. It didn't affect us. It did not.

Besides, I thought, tonight was hardly the time to worry about it. In half an hour, Greg would arrive.

“Somebody put Winnie out!” I called when the doorbell rang. I drew myself up, closed my eyes. I could barely breathe.
Calm, Jackie, be calm.
Quickly, I slipped into my bedroom for one last look in the mirror. I'd changed into a skirt and one of my favorite shirts—a lacy white cotton with bell sleeves. The front part of my hair was pulled back away from my face. I'd dabbed on a bit of blusher and lip gloss. Now I wondered if I'd overdone it. Well, too late.

With a deep breath, I went to answer the door.

Greg stood on our porch looking rather sheepish, the crinkle-wrapped bottom of a flower bouquet clutched in both hands. He wore khaki pants and a bright blue silk shirt that set off his dark skin. I caught a whiff of spice-scented cologne. He smiled at me, and the corners of his eyes creased.

Celia sat in their rental car at the curb. We waved to each other, and she drove away.

“She says to call when I'm ready to go back, and she can pick me up,” Greg explained. “I don't have a driver's license for this country.” He pronounced the word almost like “cowlty,” with the “l” drawn out.

“Okay.” I pushed back the door, ushering him inside. Knowing the last thing I wanted to do was call Celia to pick him up. I fully planned on driving Greg home myself.

“These are for you.” He held out the bouquet.

“Oh!” My first flowers. “Thank you.”

Katherine came from the kitchen, Daddy by her side. I introduced them. “You are the one who is almost my cousin.” Greg grinned at Katherine.

“Yes, it's about time we met.” She hugged him briefly. “I hear you're going to meet my whole family tomorrow.”

Greg said hello to Daddy and shook his hand with solemn respect. If not for his accent, with all Greg's politeness he could have been a Bradleyville boy, born and bred.

Please, Daddy, please like him.

While Daddy and Greg talked, I hurried away to put the flowers in a vase.

At supper, we sat at the dining room table, Katherine in Mama's seat at the end for the first time. Greg helped me get seated, his hand grazing my shoulder. My skin tingled at his touch. Robert sank awkwardly into his chair opposite me and placed his crutches on the floor. He had to sit half-turned, with his broken leg sticking out beyond the table leg.

“Mm.” Clarissa sniffed appreciatively.

Katherine had made a wonderful dish of chicken in a rich sauce, plus rice and herbed peas. All the same, I felt too nervous to eat much. Daddy said the prayer, and we began passing the bowls around the table.

Greg, naturally, fell into the center of attention.

“Tell us about how you got started in your band,” Daddy urged. Oh, brother. I wondered how many times Greg had been asked to tell that story.

But he told it again, this time peppered with interrupting questions.

“Is your picture in magazines where you live?” Clarissa wondered.

Greg laughed. “Yes, more than here. How can I explain? In my country we are like one big family. We are very proud of someone from Greece who becomes known, particularly in other countries. People from Athens give us much attention when we say we come to the U.S. They give us a big party before we leave. Many people come.”

“That must have made you feel very proud,” Katherine said.

“Yes, proud for Greece. We want to . . .” He searched for a word. “Represent our country. When we are interviewed here, we always talk about Greece.”

Greg's humility amazed me. All of his success, and just look at him. To think I ever could have liked an egomaniac like Billy Sullivan. Never would I dream of him again. I glanced at Daddy. Surely he could see how wonderful Greg was.

Katherine reached for her iced tea, her bracelet reflecting in the light. “Where do you go next when you leave Bradleyville?”

“Back to California to practice. Then we start the tour.”

“I hear you're coming to Lexington.”

Greg nodded. “I don't know when. I don't know the names of cities enough to . . . keep them straight.” He scrunched his face. “Keep them straight? That is right?”

I smiled. “Sounds right to me.”

Greg looked to Daddy. “You like to come to the concert? I can get tickets for you all.” He grinned. “Seats in the front.”

“Please, Daddy?” I blurted, afraid he'd say no. I
had
to go to that concert.

“I wanna go,” Clarissa declared. Robert just grunted. I knew he couldn't care less.

“I don't know,” Daddy said slowly. “We've never been to something like that.”

“I can give you our CD if you don't have it. You can listen to the songs.”

Katherine's smile teased. “Come on, Mr. Delham, you just might enjoy yourself. The concerts are a lot of fun. Loud music. Girls screaming.” She winked at me.

“Sounds awful,” Robert commented, then caught himself. “Oh, sorry.”

Greg laughed good-naturedly. “That's okay.”

“We do thank you, Greg,” Katherine said. “I know tickets down front are expensive.” She glanced meaningfully at Daddy.

Daddy scratched his cheek, caught by Katherine's ploy. I knew he didn't care a whit about going, but neither did he want to seem impolite at the offering of an expensive gift.

“I
know, Bobby!” Katherine exclaimed. “You stay here with Robert and Clarissa. I'll take Jackie.”

Clarissa made a face.

Yes! I didn't want my whole family with me anyway. Katherine would be perfect. She'd probably be really fun at a concert.

Greg's eyes lit up. He smiled at me, and my heart nearly melted. Would I be able to see him personally before the concert? I wondered. Or after?

“Well,” Daddy hedged. “That's a thought.”

“I will get two tickets for you,” Greg put in. “On the front row.”

Katherine raised her eyebrows at Daddy. “You have any idea how hard it is to get front-row seats?”

He gave her a look. “That sounds very nice,” he replied to Greg. “Let me know when it is, okay? Then we'll see.”

“But, Daddy,” Clarissa protested, “I wanna—”

The doorbell rang.

Daddy frowned. “Now who can that be?”

Supper in Bradleyville is a sacred family time. Folks just don't show up on one another's doorsteps anywhere between 5:30 and 7:00. Even Clarissa's friends didn't come asking to play during that time.

My chair sat closest to the open archway leading into the hall. “I'll get it.” Still thinking about Greg's concert, I blithely rounded the corner, my steps hitting the wood floor, and opened the front door.

A stranger slouched on our porch, one hand shoved in the pocket of his jeans. Brown hair in a buzz cut. Dark green, piercing eyes. I caught a whiff of alcohol.

“Hey,” he said brusquely, jerking his head. “I'm looking for Katherine King. I asked somebody on Main Street back there, and they said she might be here.”

I ogled him, instantly wary. “Who are you?”

He dragged in a long breath, his nostrils widening. “Her fiancé.”

chapter 21

I
couldn't move, thoughts tangling in my head.

He stood wide-legged, staring down at me, almost as if enjoying my shock. “Hasn't told you about me, has she?” He emitted a bitter laugh. “Can't say I'm surprised. Katherine has a way of keeping secrets.”

My spine tingled. A surreal aura stole over me, as if I'd just tripped onto the stage of some foreign play. All I could think to do was close the door.

He kicked out a foot and wedged it in the doorway. I stared at it, wide-eyed.

“Look, I've called and called. Tried to be patient. Now I've come all the way here, and I'm not leaving until I see her.”

He pushed open the door, and I wilted toward the wall.

“Who is it, Jackie?” Daddy's voice filtered around the corner.

“I'm looking for Katherine King!” The man strode past me to the archway. “Well, well, there she is.” His thin lips pulled into a satisfied smile.

I edged behind him to peer into the dining room. Katherine's lips slowly parted. Her face blanched white. “Wh–what are you doing here?” Daddy rose from his chair. “Who are you? What do you want?”

Greg ducked his head, as if embarrassed to be caught in some private family matter. Clarissa's mouth formed a round O. She started to say something, and Robert shushed her.

The man drew to his full height. “I've got business with Katherine.” Each word sounded precise, dripping with arrogance.