Capture the Wind for Me (27 page)

Which, let us not forget, had resulted in his marrying Mama.

Daddy looked at me, awaiting an answer.

I could not see then what I see now—that Daddy's feelings had far less to do with resentments from the past than concern for the future. Plain and simple, he didn't want me to be hurt. Not to mention his own side of things. I didn't realize just how much Daddy still had to work through with Katherine. Not a good time for me to face problems in my own love life. As far as he was concerned, our household already had enough to deal with.

All I knew was that Greg would be gone in two days. And the thought of not seeing him before he left was more than I could bear.

“Yes, I do like him, Daddy. And believe it or not, he likes me, too. And when he goes, I'll be sad about it. But let me tell you what else I'll be. I'll still be the one who helps take care of the kids, especially while you're out with Katherine.” My voice turned brittle. “Who does the laundry and the cleaning. I'm not goin' to stop doin' all the things you count on me for. In other words, I promise not to be a problem. Okay?”

Briefly, Daddy closed his eyes. “Jackie.” He touched my cheek with one curved finger. “You think I'm worried about your chores? I'm worried about
you.”

“I can handle me just fine. I always have.”

Daddy's hand fell away. He nodded.

“Do you not trust me, is that it?” I wondered aloud.

“Of course I trust you. You've given me no reason not to.”

“Then what is the problem? Greg is very nice and respectful to me. If you trust me, you can believe me when I tell you that.” Not to mention Greg had shown nothing but generosity and circumspection when Katherine's ex had burst through our door.

“I'm only trying to protect you,” Daddy replied. “I don't want to see things go terribly wrong in your life so soon after you've started dating.”

“Like I said, I'll be fine. Please believe that.” I didn't believe it at all, but I'd worry about that when Greg was gone. Right now nothing mattered but being with him. I sighed in frustration. “I know what we can do. Let's split up the time. You take the evening, I take the afternoon.”

We stood there looking at each other, and from out of nowhere, I laughed. The whole situation seemed just so out of kilter. Never would I have imagined negotiating with my daddy over our dating schedules.

Daddy laughed, too. Then surveyed the ceiling as if searching for an answer to this delicate subject. “How about I take the afternoon, you take the evening?”

“I asked first.”

“No, you didn't, I did.”

“I'm the teenager.”

“I'm the dad.”

Case closed.

Ten minutes later, Daddy and Katherine happily traipsed out to the garage. Daddy promised me they'd be home by five. I picked up the phone to call Greg with the news.

“So where was it you wanted to go?” I asked.

chapter 30

G
reg suggested that we plan a picnic. I didn't think Daddy would mind. Besides, it beat facing who-knew-what at another restaurant. I made sandwiches, gathered chips and drinks. Greg said he'd bring the dessert, seeing as how I'd been gypped out of one the night before. I hardly viewed that evening as my having been gypped out of anything, but I didn't argue the details.

I had plenty to do while I waited on tenterhooks for Daddy and Katherine to return. Most of the time I spent on the phone. Every one of the girls who'd been in our group after church called me, breathless and gushing and seeking details. Was Greg my boyfriend, or did Greek guys just hold a girl's hand for nothing? Had I gone out on a date with him? Where had we gone, what had we done? Questions, questions. They hardly left me room to answer. I hedged as much as possible without lying. Yes, we went out to supper, I admitted. Only to Alison did I tell the whole story. That call in itself took an hour.

“I'm so excited for you,” she crowed. “Clayton's Place! Jacob and I went bowling again, big deal.”

Jacob would still be here long after Greg had gone, I reminded her.

We also talked more about Friday night.

“I don't trust Katherine a minute,” I admitted. “She bounced from one job to the next in the past eleven years, and more importantly, one man to the next. She's hardly good enough for Daddy. What if she ditches him and breaks his heart? She'd break Clarissa's and Robert's, too. I swear, I'd strangle her. I mean, think about it, Alison, she doesn't even have a job here. I know she's doin' the cookin' and cleanin' at her parents' house, but how long does
that
take every day?”

“So . . . what does that matter?”

“She's not even settling down!” I exclaimed, annoyed that she couldn't understand. “Doesn't it make you think her bein' in Bradleyville is just another temporary thing, until she gets bored and wants to move on?”

“There's not all that many jobs around here. She probably doesn't know what she wants to do yet. Or . . .” She trailed out the word. “She figures no point in gettin' a job 'cause she's plannin' on marryin' your daddy.”

Of course. The thought hit me like a brick over the head. Why hadn't I seen this before?

“And if she wants to marry him,” Alison continued, “obviously she is plannin' on settlin' down. And you don't have to worry about her hurtin' your family.”

“Well, that's just great,” I retorted, “but nobody seems to be thinking about
me
in all this, including you. Like what if I don't
want
Katherine in our family?”

Silence. I could hear Alison breathing over the phone. “But if your daddy loves her . . . wouldn't you want him to be happy?”

I focused on Greg's picture. In less than two hours, I'd be with him. Excitement and longing surged through me at the thought. I remembered Daddy's words about Katherine the night we first spoke about his dating her.
Bein' with her has brought me an anticipation Ihaven't felt in a long time.
Now I knew what he was talking about. Oh, how I knew.

How could I possibly stand in his way, when I'd give anything to have more days with Greg?

At 5:30, heart bumping with exhilaration, I trotted once more up the Matthews' steps. Greg pulled me inside the house, saying I needed to hear driving directions to our picnic spot from Celia.

“Do you know where Jake's Rock is on the river?” she asked. “A ways up from the swimming hole?”

I nodded.

“Go to Jake's Rock, turn left, and walk upriver around a bend until you see two large oak trees with thick leaves. It's a great spot, and it'll get you out of the sun.”

We drove through downtown Bradleyville and across the tracks, then turned right toward the river. Greg and I had a bit of a trek, since we had to park in a field and trudge toward the Columbia River over a well-worn path. Greg had placed a bag of cookies that Celia had baked for us in my cooler, and he carried it for me. I toted an old blanket. We found the trees without a hitch. Celia was right; it was a beautiful spot. I wondered why I'd never thought to explore this part of the river before.

“How'd Celia know about this place?” I asked as we spread out the blanket beneath the cool shade. The river sparkled in the sun, a wide ribbon of gray-blue.

Greg sat on the blanket, holding out his hand to pull me down beside him. “I tell you if you do one thing,” he said.

“Name it.”

“Kiss me first.”

I scrunched my nose, pretending to think it over. “Well, I guess so.”

He pulled me close, and I swear the world stopped as his mouth met mine. Chills marched up and down my spine despite the warmth of the day.
I'd never get tired of this, I thought, not if I could kiss him every day for the rest of my life.

But we didn't have the rest of my life. We had one day.

I pushed that bit of reality away. “Now you have to tell me.”

He scooted to sit cross-legged, facing me, and laced both of his hands in mine. “Celia and my brother fall in love here.”

I blinked at him. “Oh.”

He squeezed my fingers. “They meet here each Saturday. Their special place.”

I gazed at Greg, thinking about the past and present. Wondering again if Greg had any idea that my daddy's being third party in Danny and Celia's relationship had almost cost us the chance to meet.

“You are thinking what?” Greg asked.

My head shook slightly.

“Please. Tell me.”

How could I? If he didn't know what Celia had done, who was I to tell him? “Your brother knows you've been seeing me, right?” I hedged. “I mean, I know you talked to him on the phone, but did you tell him . . . who I am?”

“Yes. Celia already tell him that you and I meet.”

“Oh.” I searched his face. “So what did he say?”

“I tell you.” He grinned. “He says Bradleyville girls are best.”

I focused on our hands, moving my fingers between his.

“Jackie? You are going away again. What is wrong?”

I remained silent.

“Jackie?”

“I don't—. I can't.”

“Why?”

“It doesn't have anything to do with us,” I said, “so it doesn't matter. I was just thinking about your brother and Celia, and how he left and they stayed apart for so long.”

Greg's words from last night whirled like a sudden breeze through my mind. Danny—sitting Greg down before he left Greece, telling him things about living as a Christian, traveling, girls.
How to watch myself.
Maybe Danny had told him everything. Given him warnings about love, using his own past as an example.

“You think about this why?” Greg asked quietly.

Something in his voice—a hint of suspicion? As if I knew something I shouldn't? I thought of Greg's apparent discomfort when we'd discussed Danny and Celia on the phone. Then thought again of his words from last night—and realized the truth. He knew. He had to. Probably more details than I did.

My shoulders drew in. The intimacy of the topic momentarily caught my tongue. “I know about . . . what happened,” I whispered.

He eased back, defensiveness flicking across his brow. The expression told me how close Greg felt to his brother and Celia. He turned to gaze out over the river. “Celia is right. People in Bradleyville do not forget things.”

“No,” I blurted, worried that I'd upset him. “It's not that at all. I didn't know anything until I overheard Daddy and Katherine talking, and—”

“Why your baba talk about this?” he demanded. “Something so long ago?”

“No, no, they weren't really talking about
that
. They were talking about Daddy when he was in high school and what he and Celia did and how Katherine knew about it—”

My words broke off at the look on his face. He angled his head, frowning at me, eyes narrowing. “What your baba does?”

Something clunked solidly in my chest. I stared at him, my mouth still open. He made no move.

“What
your baba
does?”

Warmth flushed through my body. I couldn't hide the horror on my face over what I'd assumed, what I'd done.

Greg dropped my hands and pushed to his feet. He grasped the back of his neck and propelled away from me to the trunk of the oak tree, where he stood, staring right through it. I managed to rise, then hung there, miserably watching. How shocked I had been, hearing Daddy and Katherine's conversation. How shocked Greg must be now, putting the details together, realizing he'd been in the home of his brother's rival.

As if he'd read my thoughts, Greg's hand slid to his battered cheek. My mouth pressed at the movement. What was he thinking—that he was sorry he'd helped my daddy fight?

“Greg?”

He stared at the tree.

“Greg!”

Slowly, he turned to me, jaw flexed. I could see his shirt rise and fall with his breathing. “My brother does not say who. He just tells me his mistake, and then Celia does the same. An old friend in Bradleyville, Danny says, who always loves her. For this Danny and Celia stay apart. For this—your baba—my brother pays for seventeen years.”

Now wait just aminute,
I thought.
Seventeen years apart?
There had to be more to this story, and my daddy could hardly take all the blame. “Celia did it for revenge,” I declared.
“She
started it. Daddy was dating my mama, and they'd have been just fine, but Celia apparently got some idea one night. You think your brother's the only one who paid? My mama must have been heartbroken. Think about it! Her boyfriend and her
best friend!”

His bruised cheek mottled a deeper red. “Your mamma and baba—they get married. All those years my brother stays alone.”

“What are you tryin' to say, Greg, that my daddy's to blame for that? Just where was Celia all that time?”

My anger seemed to bounce right off him. His eyes closed, a sick expression stealing over his face. “Why she doesn't tell me? She hears I should meet you from Miss Jessie, but she never says. And Danny—what he is feeling? I go to your baba's house, and I am hit. Trouble again.” He ran a hand over his face. “I cannot believe it.”

“They didn't tell you because they didn't want you to know,” I retorted. “Obviously.” Tears bit my eyes. I could not bear to think Celia and Danny had been gracious about our meeting while Daddy had reacted so badly. I hoped they hadn't. I hoped they'd had to fight their own memories just as he had. “And Daddy didn't want me to know, either. But now we both do. So what are we gonna do about it, huh, Greg?” My voice pinched. “We gonna fight each other now, just because the three of them were so stupid?”

His face blurred. Even so, I saw the hurt and shame trailing across his cheeks. With a sudden sigh, he moved to hold me against his chest. “No. We do not fight. I'm sorry, Jackie. I'm sorry.”