Winter in Full Bloom (15 page)

Camille put up her hands. “No more, Lily. I don’t want to argue with you about this. I’m having a nice time, so let’s just drop it.”

“All right.” I backed down. The last thing I wanted to do was drive Camille away again. I wanted so much to make this work, to no longer be severed from my flesh and blood. I suddenly thought of my front yard back home and the river birch tree planted there—the one that started with two trunks. When one died, I cut it off, but the other trunk never fully recovered. The tree never grew quite straight or healthy without the other appendage—never the way it was meant to be. “So, can we have lunch tomorrow?”

“Maybe.”

Keep it light, Lily.
I had only three bites of meat pie left, so I slowed my gobbling to make the evening last longer. “So, when you were little did you have trouble going to sleep?”

“Always.”

I grinned. “Me too.”

“Well, I couldn’t sleep until I went through my little ritual.”

“What was that?”

Camille made a stacking gesture. “I piled all my stuffed animals around me on my bed and made a fortress, a safe place to be with my little furry friends who would follow me into my dream world. Then once they were all lined up and in place, I feel asleep.”

“I can’t believe it. Me too.” I nearly screamed the words. I’d always heard that twins were so alike in nature and so close in mindset it almost mimicked a sixth sense. If Camille gave me the chance to get to know her, it would be fascinating to see the genetic cord that might reveal itself in time. But time was something there would be little of. I’d need to make the most of every moment.

“So, you really like your meat pie? You didn’t mind eating Thumper?”

I blinked. “You’re kind of funny, Camille Violet Daniels.”

“I think you bring it out in me. Listen, I got to thinking … I can’t meet you for lunch tomorrow, but I can do tea again. I wish I could offer more, but I’m busy with other obligations … job … Jerald.”

Oh dear. Tea meant dinnertime, and I’d promised Marcus we’d go out. Surely he would understand, though. Camille was the reason I’d come to Melbourne. I liked Marcus, more by the day, but Camille would have to be my priority.

When we’d finished our food and headed out into the brisk wind, Camille said, “Well, good night, Lily. It was good. Better than I’d expected.”

“See you tomorrow. Same time, same place.”

“Sure. See you tomorrow.” Camille turned and walked away in the opposite direction. When she’d vanished around a corner I realized I still hadn’t gotten her phone number or address. In other words, if she chose not to play her flute or meet me tomorrow evening I would have lost track of her again. What had I been thinking? I was so thrilled to get to know her I’d forgotten how volatile it all could be, like the winds of Melbourne. I’d just have to trust her word.

With that new thought nagging at me, I zipped up my coat against the biting wind and returned to my hotel. When I whooshed into the lobby, to my great surprise, Marcus was there waiting for me. He leaped from the couch when he saw me.

“
What are you doing here
?” I walked over to him, happy to see his smile.

“I came in after tea. I wanted to see how it went with your sister.”

Okay, so was this guy trying to melt my heart? “Thanks.” I wanted to give Marcus a hug, since I excelled at hugs. It felt right as rain on flowers to do so, and yet I held back. Maybe Camille’s question had influenced me—what would I do with Marcus when it was time to go home?

“So, how did it go? And how’s your knee?”

“My knee aches, but I’ll be fine. I’m on the mend. And it went well with Camille. At first she was aloof, but that was understandable. She’s been hurt in ways I cringe to imagine. But after a while she warmed up to me. I think the more time we spend together, the better.” Now, for the hard part. “In fact, the only time Camille could be with me tomorrow was for dinner, or tea.” I grinned. “So, do you mind if we move our plans? I know—”

“I don’t mind at all.”

“Oh?” I waited a second or two for Marcus to pick another evening for our date, but his pause went longer than expected. “Marcus? What is it?”

“You know, I did have some time to think while I waited for you, and I couldn’t be happier that you found your sister. It’s what we hoped and prayed for. And now you’re getting to know her. I feel honored that I was a part of this endeavor.”

Endeavor? His little speech made me scared. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying that I was happy to help you, but now I’ll just be getting in your way. You need to be thinking about Camille right now. Family. That’s what’s important. Because you won’t get to be with her much longer.”

“Well, I still have two and a half weeks here, and it’s true, I do want to make Camille a priority. But it’s not a problem for us to continue to see each other. You sound like you want me to go.” Like it’s over. I held my hand over my mouth so he couldn’t see my chin quiver.

“No, not at all.” Marcus took a step closer to me but refrained from touching me. “Of course I don’t want you to go, but I’m trying to be realistic. I’m trying to think ahead for both of us. Even if our friendship continues to grow into more, well, it seems a little unfeasible, don’t you think, because of where we’ve chosen to live? How would it work? It wouldn’t be like living across town or even across the state of Texas to date. We’ll be on opposite sides of the planet. Maybe we need to talk about that.”

Marcus was breaking things off without giving it a chance—without giving us a chance? I felt pain, a sharp pain in my chest, since the tie he’d just severed had already been attached to my heart. A sudden indignation pushed away any rational replies, and I blurted out, “You’re right. You should go.” I nodded with vigor and crossed my arms. “Yes, you should go. Now.”

Marcus winced.

“Why do you look wounded? You’ve stated your case, and it’s a good one. I’ve had similar questions, so I know how you feel. I don’t see how any more talk will help or change our circumstances. You’re right. We have no chance at all. It’s an impossible situation with us being on opposite sides of the world.”

Marcus stared at me. “Okay.”

My stomach turned sour, and the ache was much worse than my fear of flying.

“Well then, I guess I’ll say good night.” Marcus paused, and when I didn’t uncross my arms or soften my pursed lips he slowly turned to go.

“Goodbye.” My voice cracked, but I stood straight. “You are such a Leroy,” I murmured without censoring myself.

He whipped back around, facing me. “What did you say?”

“I said, ‘You’re such a Leroy.’ You know, from the book
What the Buffalo Left Behind.
”

“Yeah, I’m kind of familiar, since I wrote it. So, what do you mean? Are you calling me a coward?”

“Yes, I am. I loved that buffalo character. But before Leroy found his courage he spent way too much time thinking with his head and not his heart. So much so, he forgot how to live. What happened to all your courage, Marcus? All that bagpipe bravado you had when you first sat down next to me on that park bench? I know you said you were trying to repel me and attract me at the same time. I get that part, but why were you trying to attract me at all if you weren’t willing to follow through if something happened? If I’m not mistaken here … something happened.”

I cringed at my boldness, but I felt compelled to continue, since I wasn’t ever going to see him again anyway. I would make my case. “I repeat. You’re just like Leroy … only without all the hide and burly brown fur … and hooves and stuff.” My speech went the way of silliness, but I held my ground and raised my chin.

Marcus grinned at me.

I frowned.

He grinned bigger.

“What are you looking at? I demand to know what you’re thinking, if you don’t mind. Please?” I mouthed.

“I was just waiting,” he said. “With the way you have your cheeks puffed up like that, I assumed you had more to say.”

“I guess I do. Listen, you made me care about you. There’s something going on here, between us. Something that’s worth pursuing. But if you pull a Leroy, then it’s going to keep you from living … from knowing about us. What could have been. Maybe. Don’t you think?”

Marcus just stood there.
Say something! I’m dying here.
I wasn’t going to humiliate myself further. “Excuse me, but I’m totally drained, and my knee suddenly feels like it’s been tenderized with a meat hammer. I’m going to bed.” I strode away from him. Tears burned my eyes. But before I’d made it to the elevator button I heard someone striding up behind me.
Please let it be him.

Marcus touched my shoulder, and I stopped my striding. He turned me around and held me by my shoulders. He didn’t search my eyes or wait for a nod, he just took my face into his palms and kissed me. And what a kiss. It was the Pulitzer Prize of kisses. The Taj Mahal. It was the summit experience—that crazy-flapping, victorious flag at the peak of Mount Everest. It was the kind of kiss one should remember always, should place in a shadowbox—if that were possible—to dream and sigh over in one’s old age. Mmm. I reached up and curled my arms around his neck and made sure he understood how glad I was to see him come back to me. When we eased apart I said to him, “I guess this means something. Right?”

“Yes. It means you can stop calling me Leroy.”

I threw my head back, laughing. “But what about the whole opposite-sides-of-the-planet thing?”

“We’ll take it one day at a time, Love.”

I tugged on the lapels of his jacket. “I can’t believe we’ve only known each other for two days.”

“Well, some people only need two minutes.”

“I suppose so.”

“But what about Camille?” he asked. “I want to spend as much time with you as possible, but I also don’t want you to have regrets by losing your focus.”

“I will find time for both of you. I promise.”

“Good.” He nodded. “That’s a very good promise and one I will hold you to.”

I hooked my finger into the pocket of his jacket and gave it a tug. “Were you really walking away for good just now? You know, forever and ever?”

“What you didn’t know was that I wouldn’t have made it to the street before I would have marched back in here to tell you what a buffoon I was for making such a speech.”

“I’m sorry I called you a Leroy. It was cruel.”

“Yes, it was cruel. I may never recover.” He grinned. “But that’s okay … since the moment I laid eyes on you I thought you were a Zelda.”

“No, not Zelda. Anyone but her.” I raised my brow in pretend outrage. “She’s a bald ostrich.”

“Well, you’re Zelda without the skinny neck and feathers and big webbed feet.”

“Guess I deserved that.”

“Yes.” Marcus kissed the tip of my nose. “But Zelda also has a heart of gold.”

In spite of my throbbing knee
, in spite of the concerns that my sister might not show for our next outing, and in spite of my latest encounter with Marcus, sleep came as softly to me as a baby’s touch. In fact, I welcomed sleep with open arms and fell into dreaming of Marcus’s kiss—our shadowbox kiss.

The next day my more-than-a-friend—Marcus—took me on a whirl of activities around the city. That is, as many as my recovering knee could stand: Federation Square, an art museum, a train ride to the zoo. The zoo featured the most adorable kangaroos and an animal called a wombat, which looked just like a pillow with eyes. We munched on bubblegum-flavored fairy floss, which was really just the Aussie version of cotton candy. And then for lunch we went to an indigenous-themed restaurant, which was decorated with Aboriginal works of art. They had a couple of items on the menu—eel and emu—that I assumed I’d hate but didn’t. I could not have been more impressed with all there was to see and do inside and outside the city. Like Marcus, I now had a sweet spot for Melbourne.

After we parted for the evening, I headed to the place by the river where my sister performed. She wasn’t there. I glanced all around, thinking I’d made a mistake with the spot or the time, but I knew I hadn’t. Maybe she was merely running late. In an effort to keep my worry-meter from pinging off the charts I strolled down the promenade, hoping to run into her.