Mountain Laurel (10 page)

"Your sister can't expect you to compromise your morals for her sake." Another rash statement, he thought. This one made Laurel stop chewing and lower her gaze. Good Lord, now he'd embarrassed her.

"What I mean is, Ginny has to learn to appreciate you for what you are."

She raised her head. Her green eyes connected with his, making him wonder what she was thinking.

"Besides, you can't give in to her every whim." Seeing a storm brewing in her the sudden tenseness around her eyes and mouth, he thought he should have quit while he was ahead.

"And you think that's what I'm doing?" She gestured toward him with the half-eaten apple.

The sharpness in her question sparked his irritation to an explosive level.

"Well, you can't teach the girl responsibility if you're off Lord knows where with Lord knows who doing Lord knows what!" He returned her glare until she turned her gaze toward the horizon.

Was he right? Laurel asked herself. Was she compromising her morals for her sister? Was she giving Ginny's every frivolous impulse top priority? Laurel felt entangled as the maze of questions twisted around in her head.

For goodness' sake, she was only planning on a date or two! He made it sound...dirty. But he was right about her giving in to Ginny. It was something she'd always done. Wasn't that how you showed someone that you loved them? Maybe not. Not this time, anyway.

Michael was right, Laurel finally realized. She couldn't do this. She would have to find another way.

The annoyance Michael had felt left him as quickly as it had come. He had no idea what it was that had pushed him to question her reasoning as he had, but he'd succeeded in telling this woman, whom he hardly knew, that she was frigid, loose and weak of character all in a span of about thirty seconds. He was baffled by his behavior. But the drive he'd felt to dissuade Laurel from her plans was insistent and stronger than he could resist.

"Listen, Laurel, I'm really sorry..." he began, but her huge sigh caused him to stop.

"It's all right," she told him.

He was surprised to see that her eyes had gone soft, that her lips, still moist with juice from the apple, curled at corners in a small smile.

"Don't apologize. You're right. You're right about everything. The bet was a bad idea and I'll talk to Ginny about it as soon as I get back to the cabin."

Relief flooded through his body. Michael didn't care whether he was right or not. He was just awfully glad she wasn't going through with the crazy wager.

~ ~ ~

"You blew it, didn't you?" Ginny twisted her mouth snidely.

Panic wrapped around Laurel's chest, making it extremely hard to breathe. She looked at her sister's expression and tried to remain calm. Having thought long and hard, she was sure she had come up with the perfect speech to tell Ginny that their bet was off. She had planned to say that it was foolish to play games with life and that that was something adults didn't do. She was going to explain that there was a right way to do things and there was a wrong way.

But Laurel hadn't planned on her sister's having one of her wild mood swings. Having heard the front door slam, then seeing Ginny's tight expression and hunched shoulders when she stomped into the kitchen, Laurel knew something was wrong. But before she could find out what it was, Ginny had verbally attacked her.

"You don't have to say a word," Ginny said. "It's written all over your face."

Laurel stared down at the mug of cold tea that sat on the table in front of her. She wrapped her shaking hands around it and tried to think.

"Where's Eric?" she asked, groping for an out. "Did you two have a fight?"

"I don't want to talk about him. He's such a wimp!" Ginny ground out contemptuously.

"If you had an argument, we should talk about it."

"Don't try to change the subject!" Ginny snapped. "I want to know why you can't even go on a simple picnic without messing everything up." She stood by the table, her fist planted on outthrust hip.

She had to calm her down, Laurel thought. Ginny wouldn't listen to a word she had to say until she was in a better state of mind. Then Laurel heard a panicked little voice inside her head whisper,
Lie
.

"Who said I messed anything up?" Laurel gave what she hoped was a soothing smile. "I had a terrific time today with Michael. The picnic was... very romantic."

That wasn't too much of a lie, she told herself. She did have a terrific time.

However, her smile wilted slightly under Ginny's dubious stare and she quickly decided to do a bit of elaborating.

"Michael's a great guy."

He is, he is!
the little voice whispered.

"We talked. Got to know each other. We enjoyed a bottle of wine."

True, true, and true
, the voice in her head intoned proudly.

"And he wants to take me out."

The little voice groaned.

Now where on earth had that come from? When Michael had left this afternoon, they'd made no plans to see each other again.

"When?" Ginny asked, still unconvinced.

"When?" Laurel repeated. She swallowed, moistened her lips, and slid the mug a few inches away from her. She needed time to think. "Well, tonight, of course."

Goodness, it was really getting deep now.

"Tonight?" The look on Ginny's face brightened. It couldn't yet be called a smile, but it was no longer a frown, either.

"Yes. Yes, tonight. Soon, as a matter of fact. I have to go get ready." Laurel scooted back the wooden chair. She escaped to the bedroom and closed the door.

What was the matter with her? What had she done? What had happened to the idea of making Ginny appreciate her for who she was? She sat on the bed and tried to figure out where to go from here. She'd dug a hole for herself and now she needed to figure out how to get out of it.

"Where's he taking you?" Ginny's voice was muffled by the door.

"Um, just out to dinner, I think."

"You think? You don't know?"

"No, no. I know. We're going to dinner."

"Well, when will he be here? Do we have time to talk? I want to hear all about what happened on the picnic today."

Rubbing her fingers across her forehead, Laurel fretted. She hated lying. But she was in this now, and short of admitting everything to her sister right now...

That's it! She slapped her knee.

"I'm meeting him."

"Oh." Ginny's excitement took a sudden nosedive. "But I wanted the car,"

A frustrated sigh rushed past her lips before she could stop it.

"
What?
"

"Nothing. Er, that's okay, sweetie. You can have the car. I'll walk to Michael's place." She dug down into the drawer looking for a warm sweater.
I'll just take a long walk
, she reasoned. Ginny would never know. By the time she got back, Ginny would have gone out with her friends, and she would be in the clear.

She looked toward the ceiling and whispered, "If I get through this, I'll never lie again." After pulling on a thick sweater, she reached for the doorknob.

"You're going out looking like that? You only changed your sweater."

"Well," Laurel said, gazing down at her cords and worn sneakers. "You see, we're not going out. Yes, uh, he's cooking dinner for me."

The hole was just getting deeper.

"Wow! He cooks?"

"I guess so. Yeah." Laurel nodded nervously. Her glance darted to the window to see a brisk breeze tossing the treetops. It would be chilly while she was out, but she should be warm enough as long as she could get back to the cabin before dark.

"You said you needed the car. What are your plans? When are you leaving?"

"Well, I'm not going out, actually. At least, not for long. I'm going to pick up the girls and a pizza. And, since you'll be at Michael's, I don't have to ask if you mind if we come back here to hang out."

"Oh." For a split second Laurel was caught with her defenses down, and that one tiny word held all the disappointment and frustration she was feeling.

"That's okay, isn't it?" Ginny asked, a puzzled furrow in her brow.

"Sure, why wouldn't it be okay?" Laurel shrugged one shoulder exaggeratedly high.

Ginny cocked an eyebrow. "You do have a date tonight, don't you?"

"Of course I do!" Laurel snapped, not sure if she was angry at Ginny for pushing her into this stupid bet or herself for getting in deeper with blatant lies. But she would much rather face a room full of dark, handsome forest rangers right now than one moody teenager.

"Good!" Ginny said with a tight jerk of her head. Then she turned and went back into the kitchen.

Laurel took advantage of her sister's absence by slipping a paperback book off a nearby shelf and quickly stuffing it under her bulky sweater. There was no telling how long she'd have to stay out now.

"Here!"

Laurel spun around to see Ginny thrusting the bottle of wine at her that Michael had brought on the picnic.

"Take this with you. There's not much left, but you can enjoy a glass with your dinner." She snickered as she added, "It would be impolite to go empty-handed."

When Laurel reached out to take the bottle the book slipped. She jerked her arm down, trapping it against her stomach.

"Are you okay?" Ginny asked.

"Fine, just fine," Laurel said, snatching the bottle. "I gotta go. Have a good time."

She was out the door and down the porch steps in a flash.

The things I do for that girl!
she fumed. She kicked her way through the fallen leaves along the path.

"Where the heck am I going?" She stopped short, turning her face skyward. All she heard in answer was the sound of the trees tapping their objection as the wind plucked at their leaves, sending them floating to the ground around her. Closing her eyes, she sighed and let the quiet peace of the forest fill her.

Okay, she asked herself, where
are
you going? Memories of the lovely golden oak tree she and Michael had lunched under propelled her along the path toward the meadow. But it wasn't long before the sun dropped behind the mountain, twilight changing the bright and serenely inviting forest to a duskily shadowed wilderness.

She had three choices, she thought. She could go back and confess everything to Ginny; wander around helplessly lost in the forest; or go to Michael's house. Not hesitating more than an instant, she veered right when she came to the path that he'd pointed out earlier.

"Hello there, I just happened to be in the neighborhood," she practiced, wondering what he'd say when she showed up on his doorstep.

He probably won't be happy about what I've done
, she thought.
Hell, I'm not happy about what I've done! But I'd rather face his disapproval than another teenage tirade
.

The path opened up at the back of the cabin. She stepped up on the rear porch and took a deep breath.

"Well, here goes nothing."

Repeating her unanswered knock, she stepped over and peered into the kitchen window. Except for a dim light that shone over the sink, it was dark inside. Laurel snapped her fingers smartly.

"That's right, he's a judge tonight," she whispered, remembering him telling her of the Autumn Glory Queen contest during their hike up to the meadow. "Well, Laurel, what do you do now?"

Brushing a few leaves away, she settled herself as comfortably as possible on the small back porch. The rough-hewn logs that made up the outside walls of the cabin were hard against her back. She ignored them as best she could. Hunger pangs grumbled in her stomach, and she ignored them, too, sticking her nose in the book she'd brought.