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“You hardly ever see Clay anymore,” Lynn chastised, hands on her hips. “He called and asked about you the other night.”
Ruth stared at the small black mailbox. “Clay and I are just friends.”
“Not according to him.”
It was true that they’d been seeing each other quite a bit following a Halloween party last October. Like her, Clay Matthews was obtaining his master’s of education, and they seemed to have a lot in common. But her interest in him had started to wane even before she’d mailed that Christmas card to Paul. The problem was, Clay hadn’t noticed.
“I’m sorry he’s disappointed.”
“Clay is decent and hardworking, and the way you’ve treated him the last few months is…is terrible.” Lynn, who at five foot ten stood a good seven inches taller than Ruth, could be intimidating, especially with her mouth twisted in that grimace of disapproval.
Ruth had tried to let Clay down easily, but it hadn’t worked. They’d gone to the library together last Thursday. Unfortunately, that had been a mistake. She’d known it almost right away when Clay pressured her to have coffee with him afterward. It would’ve been better just to end the relationship and forget about staying friends. He was younger, for one thing, and while that hadn’t seemed important earlier, it did now. Perhaps it was wrong to compare him to Paul, but Ruth couldn’t help it. Measured against Paul, Clay seemed immature, demanding and insecure.
“You said he phoned?” Frowning, she glanced at Lynn.
Lynn nodded. “He wants to know what’s going on.”
Oh, brother! Ruth couldn’t have made it plainer had she handed him divorce papers. Unwilling to be cruel, she’d tried to bolster his ego by referring to all the positive aspects of his personality—but apparently, that had only led him to think the opposite of what she was trying to tell him. He’d refused to take her very obvious hints, and in her frustration, she’d bluntly announced that she wasn’t interested in seeing him anymore. That seemed pretty explicit to her; how he could be confused about it left Ruth shaking her head.
The fact that he’d phoned and cried on her roommate’s shoulder was a good example of what she found adolescent about his behavior. She was absolutely certain Paul would never do that. If he had a problem, he’d take it directly to the source.
“I think you’re being foolish,” Lynn said, and added, “Not that you asked my opinion.”
“No, I didn’t,” Ruth reminded her, eyeing the mailbox again. There was an ornamental latticework design along the bottom, and looking through it, she could tell that the day’s mail had been delivered. The envelope inside was white, and her spirits sank. There had to be something from Paul. If not a real letter, then an email.
“He wanted me to talk to you,” Lynn was saying.
“Who did?” Ruth asked distractedly. She was dying to open the mailbox, but she wanted to do it in privacy.
“Clay,” Lynn cried, sounding completely exasperated. “Who else are we talking about?”
Suddenly Ruth understood. She looked away from the mailbox and focused her attention on Lynn. “You’re attracted to him, aren’t you?”
Lynn gasped indignantly. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Sit down,” Ruth said, gesturing toward the front steps where they’d often sat before. It was a lovely spring afternoon, the first week of April, and she needed to clear the air with her roommate before this got further out of hand.
“What?” Lynn said with a defensive edge. “You’ve got the wrong idea here. I was just trying to help a friend.”
“Sit,” Ruth ordered.
“I have class in twenty minutes and I—” Lynn paused, scowling at her watch.
“Sit down.”
The eighteen-year-old capitulated with ill grace. “All right, but I know what you’re going to say.” She folded her arms and stared straight ahead.
“I’m fine with it,” Ruth said softly. “Go out with him if you want. Like I said earlier, I’m not interested in Clay.”
“You would be if it wasn’t for soldier boy.”
Ruth considered that and in all honesty felt she could say, “Not so.”
“I don’t understand you,” Lynn lamented a second time. “You marched in the rally against the war in Iraq. Afghanistan isn’t all that different, and now you’re involved with Paul what’s-his-face and it’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”
“Paul doesn’t have anything to do with this.”
“Yes, he does,” Lynn insisted.
“I’m not going to have this conversation with you. We agree on some points and disagree on others. That’s fine. We live in a free society and we don’t have to have the same opinion on these issues or anything else.”
Lynn sighed and said nothing.
“I have the feeling none of this is really about Paul,” Ruth said with deliberate patience. She hadn’t known Lynn very long; they lived separate lives and so far they’d never had a problem. As roommates went, Ruth felt she was fortunate to have found someone as amicable as Lynn. She didn’t want this difference of opinion about Clay—and Paul—to ruin that.
The other girl once again looked pointedly at her watch, as if to suggest Ruth say what she intended to say and be done with it.
“I don’t want to see Clay,” she said emphatically.
“You might have told him that.”
“I tried.”
Lynn glared at her. “You should’ve tried harder.”
Ruth laughed, but not because she was amused. For whatever reason, Clay had set his sights on her and wasn’t about to be dissuaded. Complicating matters, Lynn was obviously interested in him and feeling guilty and unsure of how to deal with her attraction.
“Listen,” Ruth said. “I didn’t mean to hurt Clay. He’s a great guy and—”
“You shouldn’t have lied to him.”
Ruth raised her eyebrows. “When did I lie to him?”
“Last week you said you were going to visit your grandmother in Cedar Cove and that was why you couldn’t go out with him this weekend. I overheard you,” she murmured.
Oh, that. “It was a white lie,” Ruth confessed. She definitely planned to visit her grandmother, though. Helen Shelton lived across Puget Sound in a small community on the Kitsap Peninsula. Ruth had spent Thanksgiving with her grandmother and visited for a weekend before Christmas and then again close to Valentine’s Day. Her last visit had been early in March. She always enjoyed her time with Helen, but somehow the weeks had slipped away and here it was April already.
“A lie is a lie,” Lynn said adamantly.
“Okay, you’re right,” Ruth agreed. “I should’ve been honest with Clay.” Delaying had been a mistake, as she was now learning.
That seemed to satisfy her roommate, who started to get to her feet. Ruth placed her hand on Lynn’s forearm, stopping her. “I want to know why you’re so upset about this situation with Clay.”
“I told you…. I just don’t think this is how people should treat each other.”
“I don’t like the way Clay’s put you in the middle. This is between him and me. He had no right to drag you into it.”
“Yes, but—”
“You’re defending him?”
Lynn shrugged. “I guess.”
“Don’t. Clay’s a big boy. If he has something to say, then he can come to me all on his own. When and if he does, I’m going to tell him again that I’m no longer interested in dating him. I’m—”
“Stuck on some gun-wielding—”
A look from Ruth cut her off.
“Okay, whatever,” Lynn muttered.
“What I want you to do is comfort him,” Ruth said, patting Lynn’s arm.
“I could, I suppose.”
“Good,” Ruth said, hoping to encourage her. “He might need someone to talk to, and since you’re sensitive to his feelings, you’d be the perfect choice.”
“You think so?”
Ruth nodded. Lynn stood up and went inside to get her books; she left with a cheerful goodbye as if they’d never had an argument. With her roommate gone, Ruth leaped off the step and across the porch to the mailbox. Lifting the top, she reached inside, holding her breath as she pulled out the electric bill in its white envelope, a sales flyer—and a hand-addressed air mail letter from Sergeant Paul Gordon.
Two
April 2
My Dear Ruth,
We’ve been out on a recon mission for the last four days and there wasn’t any way I could let you know. They seemed like the longest four days of this tour, and not for the reasons you might think. Those days meant I couldn’t write you or receive your letters. I’ve been in the marines for eight years now and I’ve never felt like this about mail before. Never felt this strongly about a woman I’ve yet to meet, either. Once we were back in camp, I sat down with your letters and read through each one. As I explained before, there are times we can’t get online and this happened to be one of those times. I realize you’ve probably been wondering why I wasn’t in touch. I hope you weren’t too concerned. I would’ve written if I could.
I have good news. I’m coming home on leave….
Ruth read Paul’s letter twice. Yes, he’d definitely said he was headed home, to Seattle, for two weeks before flying to Camp Pendleton in California for additional training. He hoped to spend most of his leave with her. His one request was that Ruth make as much time for him as her studies would allow and, if possible, keep her weekends free.
If Ruth thought her heart had been beating hard a few minutes earlier, it didn’t compare to the way it pounded now. She could barely breathe. Never had she looked forward to meeting anyone more.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, Ruth picked up the small framed photograph she kept on her nightstand. Paul’s image was the first thing she saw when she woke and the last before she turned off her light. In four months, he’d become an important part of her life. Now, with his return to Seattle, their feelings for each other would stand the real test. Writing letters and email messages was very different from carrying on a face-to-face conversation….
At the end of his letter, Paul suggested they meet at 6:00 p.m. on Saturday, April 16, at Ivar’s restaurant on the Seattle waterfront. She didn’t care what else was on her schedule; any conflicting arrangement would immediately be canceled.
Rather than begin her homework, Ruth sat down and wrote Paul back, her fingers flying over the computer keys as she composed her response. Yes, she would see him there. Nothing could keep her away. While she was nervous at the prospect of meeting Paul, she was excited, too.
Her letter was coming out of the printer when the phone rang. Absently Ruth grabbed the receiver, holding it against her shoulder as she opened the desk drawer and searched for an envelope.
“Hello?”
“Ruth, it’s your grandmother.”
“Grandma,” Ruth said, genuinely pleased to hear from Helen. “I’ve been meaning to call you and I haven’t. I’m sorry.”
Her grandmother chuckled. “I didn’t call to make you feel guilty. I’m inviting you to lunch.”
“When?”
“In a couple of weeks—on Sunday the seventeenth if that works for you. I figured I’d give you plenty of time to fit me into your schedule. I thought we’d sit out on the patio, weather permitting, and enjoy the view of the cove.”
Her grandmother’s duplex was on a hill overlooking the water with the lighthouse in the distance. Her grandparents had lived in Cedar Cove for as long as Ruth could remember, and Helen had stayed there after her husband’s death. Because Ruth had been born and raised in Oregon, she’d visited the small Washington town often through the years. “I’ve wanted to get over to see you.”
“I know, I know, but unless we both plan ahead, it won’t happen. In no time you’ll have your master’s degree and then you’ll move on and we’ll both regret the missed opportunities. I don’t want that.”
“I don’t, either.” Her Grandma Shelton was Ruth’s favorite relative. She was highly educated, which wasn’t particularly common for a woman her age, and spoke French and German fluently. She’d worked as a translator from the 1950s through the ’80s, specializing in French novels, which she translated into English. Her father hadn’t said much about his mother’s life prior to her marriage, and one of the reasons Ruth had chosen to attend the University of Washington was so she could get to know her grandmother better.
“I can put you down for lunch, then?”
“Yes, that would be lovely.” Her gaze fell on Paul’s letter and Ruth realized that the date her grandmother had suggested was the first weekend Paul would be in town. He’d specifically asked her to keep as much of that two-week period free as she could. She wanted to spend time with him and yet she couldn’t refuse her grandmother. “Grandma, I’m looking at my calendar and—”
“Is there a conflict?”
“Not…exactly. I’ve sort of got a date,” she said, assuming she and Paul would be seeing each other. It would be ideal if he could join her. “It isn’t anything official, so I—”
“Then you do have another commitment.”
“No…” This was getting complicated. “Well, not exactly,” she said again.
“I wasn’t aware that you were dating anyone special. Who is he?”
The question hung there for a moment before Ruth answered. “His name is Paul Gordon and we aren’t really dating.” She would’ve continued, except that her grandmother broke in.
“Your parents didn’t say anything about this.” The words were spoken as if there must be something untoward about Paul that Ruth didn’t want to divulge.
“No, Mom and Dad wouldn’t,” Ruth said, not adding that she hadn’t actually mentioned Paul to her parents. She’d decided it wasn’t necessary to enlighten them about this correspondence yet. Explaining her feelings about Paul to her family would be difficult when everyone knew her political views. More importantly, she wasn’t sure how she felt about him and wouldn’t be until they’d met.
So far, they were only pen pals, but this was the man she dreamed about every night, the man who dominated her thoughts each and every day.
“Grandma, I haven’t said anything to Mom and Dad because I haven’t officially met Paul yet.”
“Is this…” Her grandmother hesitated. “Is this one of those…those internet relationships?” She spit out the word as though meeting a man via the internet was either illegal or unseemly—most likely both.
“No, Grandma, it’s nothing like that.”
“Then why don’t your parents know about him?”
“Well, because…because he’s a soldier in Afghanistan.” There—it was out.
Her announcement was greeted by silence. “There’s something wrong with that?” she eventually asked.
“No…”
“You say it like you’re ashamed.”
“I’m not ashamed,” Ruth insisted. “I like Paul a great deal and I’m proud of his service to our country.” She downplayed her political beliefs as she expanded on her feelings. “I enjoy his letters and like him more than I probably should, but I don’t like the fact that he’s a soldier.”
“You sound confused.”
Ruth sighed. That was certainly an accurate description of how she felt.
“So this Paul will be in Seattle on leave?”
“Yes. For two weeks.”
“He’s coming here to meet you?”
“His family also lives in the area.”
“Invite him along for lunch,” her grandmother said. “I want to meet him, too.”
“You do?” Ruth’s enthusiasm swelled. “That’s great. I thought of it, but I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about having him join us.”
“I meant what I said. I want to meet him.”
“We’ve only been writing for a few months. I don’t know him well, and…” She let the rest fade.
“It’ll be fine, Ruth,” her grandmother assured her. Helen always seemed to understand what Ruth was feeling. She’d found ways to encourage the special bond between them.
“Grandpa was a soldier when you first met him, wasn’t he?” Ruth remembered her father telling her this years ago, although he’d also said his mother didn’t like to talk about those years. Ruth assumed that was because of Grandpa Sam’s bad memories of the war, the awful things he’d seen and experienced in Europe. She knew her grandparents had met during the Second World War, fallen in love and married soon afterward. Ruth’s father had been born in the baby boom years that followed, and her uncle Jake had arrived two years later. Ruth was Helen’s only granddaughter, but she had three grandsons.
“Oh, yes.” She sighed wistfully. “My Sam was so handsome, especially in his uniform.” Her voice softened perceptibly.
“How long did you know him before you were married?”
Her grandmother laughed. “Less than a year. In wartime everything’s very intense. People married quickly because you never knew if you’d still be alive tomorrow. It was as if those of us who were young had to cram as much life into as short a time as possible.”
“The war was terrible, wasn’t it?”
Helen sighed before whispering, “All war is terrible.”
“I agree,” Ruth said promptly.
“So you and this soldier you’ve never met are discussing marriage?” her grandmother asked after a moment.
“No!” Ruth nearly choked getting out her denial. “Paul and me? No, of course not. I promise you the subject has never even come up.” They hadn’t written about kissing or touching or exchanged the conventional romantic endearments. That didn’t mean she hadn’t dreamed about what it would be like to be held by Paul Gordon. To kiss him and be caressed by him. She’d let her imagination roam free….
“So you say,” her grandmother said with amusement in her voice. “By all means, bring your friend. I’ll look forward to meeting him.”
That was no doubt true, Ruth thought, but no one looked forward to meeting Paul Gordon more than she did.
Three
“How do I look?” Ruth asked her roommate. She hated to sound so insecure, but this was perhaps the most important meeting of her life and Ruth was determined to make a perfect impression.
“Fabulous,” Lynn said, her face hidden behind the latest issue of People magazine.
“I might believe you if you actually looked at me.” Ruth held on to her patience with limited success. The relationship with her roommate had gone steadily downhill since the confrontation on the porch steps two weeks earlier. Apparently Clay wasn’t interested in dating Lynn. What Ruth did know was that Clay hadn’t contacted either of them since, and her roommate had been increasingly cold and standoffish. Ruth had tried to talk to her but that hadn’t done any good. She suspected that Lynn wanted to be upset, so Ruth had decided to go about her own business and ignore her roommate’s disgruntled mood. This might not be the best strategy, but it was the only way she could deal with Lynn’s attitude.
Her roommate heaved a sigh; apparently lifting her head a couple of inches required immense effort. Her eyes were devoid of emotion as she gave Ruth a token appraisal. “You look all right, I guess.”
These days, that was high praise coming from Lynn. Ruth had spent an hour doing her hair, with the help of a curling iron and two brushes. And now it was raining like crazy. This wasn’t the drizzle traditionally associated with the Pacific Northwest, either. This was rain. Real rain. Which spelled disaster for her hair, since her umbrella wouldn’t afford much protection.
If her hair had taken a long time, choosing what to wear had demanded equal consideration. She had a pretty teal-and-white summer dress from last year that made her eyes look soft and dreamy, but the rain had altered that plan. Now she was wearing black pants and a white cashmere sweater with a beige overcoat.
“You’re meeting at Ivar’s, right?”
“Right.” Ruth didn’t remember telling her roommate. They were barely on speaking terms.
“Too bad.”
“Too bad what?”
Lynn sighed once more and set aside the magazine. “If you must know, soldier boy phoned and said you should meet him outside the restaurant.” She grinned nastily. “And in case you haven’t noticed, it’s pouring out.”
“I’m supposed to meet him outside?”
“That’s what he said.”
Ruth made an effort not to snap at her. “You didn’t think to mention this before?”
Lynn shrugged. “It slipped my mind.”
Ruth just bet it did. Rather than start an argument, she collected her raincoat, umbrella and purse. Surely she would receive a heavenly reward for controlling her temper. Lynn would love an argument but Ruth wasn’t going to give her one; she wasn’t going to play childish games with her roommate. The difference in their ages had never seemed more pronounced than it had in the past two weeks.
Because of the rain, Ruth couldn’t find convenient street parking and was forced to pay an outrageous amount at a lot near the restaurant. She rushed toward Ivar’s, making sure she arrived in plenty of time. Lynn’s sour disposition might have upset Ruth if not for the fact that she was finally going to meet the soldier who’d come to mean so much to her.
Focusing on her hair, dress and makeup meant she’d paid almost no attention to something that was far more important—what she’d actually say when she saw Paul for the first time. Ideas skittered through her mind as she crossed the street.
Ruth hoped to sound witty, articulate and well informed. She so badly wanted to impress Paul and was afraid she’d stumble over her words or find herself speechless. Her other fear was that she’d take one look at him and burst into tears. It could happen; she felt very emotional about meeting this man she’d known only through letters and emails.
Thankfully, by the time she reached Ivar’s, the rain had slowed to a drizzle. But it was still wet out and miserably gray. Her curls, which had been perfectly styled, had turned into tight wads of frizz in the humid air. She was sure she resembled a cartoon character more than the fashion model she’d strived for earlier that afternoon.
After the longest ten-minute wait of her life, Ruth checked her watch and saw that it was now one minute past six. Paul was late. She pulled her cell phone from her bag; unfortunately Paul didn’t answer his cell, so she punched out her home number. Perhaps he’d been delayed in traffic and had called the house, hoping to connect with her.
No answer. Either Lynn had left or purposely chosen not to pick up the receiver. Great, just great.
To her dismay, as she went to toss her cell phone back inside her purse, she realized the battery was low. Why hadn’t she charged it? Oh, no, that would’ve been much too smart.
All at once Ruth figured it out. Paul wasn’t late at all. Somehow she’d missed him, which wouldn’t be that difficult with all the tourist traffic on the waterfront. Even in the rain, people milled around the area as if they were on the sunny beaches of Hawaii. Someone needed to explain to these tourists that the water dripping down from the sky was cold rain. Just because they’d dressed for sunshine didn’t mean the weather would cooperate.
Despite her umbrella, her hair now hung in tight ringlets all around her head. Either of two things had happened, she speculated. Perhaps her appearance was so drastically changed from the glamour photo she’d sent him that Paul hadn’t recognized her and assumed she’d stood him up. The other possibility was even less appealing. Paul had gotten a glimpse of her and decided to escape without saying a word.
For a moment Ruth felt like crying. Rather than waste the last of her cell phone battery phoning her roommate again, she stepped inside the restaurant to see if Paul had left a message for her.
She opened the door and lowered her umbrella. As she did, she saw a tall, lean and very handsome Paul Gordon get up from a chair in the restaurant foyer.
“Ruth?”
“Paul?” Without a thought, she dropped the umbrella and moved directly into his embrace.
Then they were in each other’s arms, hugging fiercely.
When it became obvious that everyone in the crowded foyer was staring at them, Paul finally released her.
“I was outside—didn’t you tell Lynn that’s where we were meeting?”
“No.” He brushed the wet curls from her forehead and smiled down at her. “I said inside because I heard on the weather forecast that it was going to rain. And—” he rolled his eyes “—I forgot my cell phone. I’m not used to carrying one around.”