Ride the Rainbow Home (19 page)

"Home," Jim said softly. "I wanted it to be a real home, not some cold showplace. I wanted a place where I could put the world away and be me."

"I'd say you've succeeded admirably. It's warm and inviting. I feel comfortable already."

"Good," Jim said. "I want you to be comfortable here." That same warm, indefinable magic was pulsing between them and for a moment, they stood looking at each other. Meg knew Jim was trying to tell her something; she could only wonder what came next. "Come with me," he said then, taking her hand. "I promised you dinner."

Meg followed him into the kitchen where Jim put a compact disc of Broadway love songs on to play while he donned an apron and began to work, tossing a salad. "Do you like manicotti?" he asked.

"With marinara sauce?"

"And cheese filling."

"Marvelous," Meg answered, and then gestured around her, jokingly asking, "All this and you cook too?"

He tossed her a crooked grin. "It's a useful skill if you like to eat." He took the manicotti out of the fridge, set the timer on the oven, covered the salad, and took off his apron. The music changed and a mellow saxophone solo filled the room. Jim stood next to Meg's chair and held out a hand to her. "Dance with me?" he asked. “We seemed to keep getting interrupted last time we danced together."

Meg took his hand and stepped into his arms. "There's no one to interrupt us here."

"No one at all," he answered, drawing her very close. For a time they simply swayed together, moved by the power of the moment as one piece of music melded into another. When the timer went off, Jim turned off the oven and took the manicotti out. "It could stand to cool for a few minutes if you'd like to dance again," he said.

"I'd love to," Meg murmured dreamily, and Jim returned to swing her into another slow dance. As the final notes melted away, he held her close, burying his face in her hair. Meg heard him say, "Meggie, sweet Meggie. I've waited so long for this."

Meg looked up, eyes limpid. "You've waited... for this?"

Jim nodded. "It's been more than ten years since the last time I asked you to a dance."

Fuzzy with sensation, Meg stared at him in confused silence.

"Was it the pig farm, Meg? Was that why you wouldn't go with me?"

“What are you...?" Then she knew. Her heart turned to lead and her hands went icy. "The prom."

"It almost crushed me when you turned me down like that."

With a start, Meg realized she was almost as angry with him for interrupting their romantic moment with this memory as she was for the ten-year-old slight. “When I turned
you
down? How do you think I felt when I realized what you were doing?"

Confusion flickered in Jim's eyes. "What did you think I was doing?"

“You know, Danny Sherwood, the football team. Don’t play dumb, Jim.”

“Maybe I’m not playing. Maybe I’m really not getting this. Can you be clearer?”

So she rehashed it for him—Danny Sherwood and his little joke when he asked her to the prom, the presence of Danny and half the football defensive line in the hallway when Little Jimmy McAllister had approached her later, their laughter at her expense. "It was all a dead giveaway, McAllister. Round two in humiliating the fat girl. I never believed you could do a thing like that." Tears were stinging her eyes as she finished, and her voice nearly choked on the last words. "I thought you were my friend."

Jim took her face in his hands. "Oh, Meggie," he crooned as he stroked her hair. "I'm so sorry. If only I'd known, I could have cleared this up years ago. Surely you must have realized that I would never have done that to you."

Meg felt sick shock creeping over her. "What do you mean, if only you'd known? Are you telling me you didn't know? You weren't in on it?"

"Oh, Meg, how could you even think that?" He leaned forward, tenderly kissing her forehead. The expression on his face mirrored all the pain she'd ever felt over their lost senior prom. "Spring football had just started and I went to turn the records over to the new team manager. He asked me about the prom and I said I was trying to get up enough courage to ask you. Danny and his bunch were there heckling the new kids and I guess he overhead me. He told me he'd back me up, you know, be my wing man, go with me to give me courage."

Meg bristled. "Since when did you need courage to talk to me?"

"We'd been pals for so long, and I didn't know how you'd feel about changing the nature of our friendship, maybe turning it into something more. Besides, you never came out to the farm." Meg winced and looked away. "I didn't know what you might say and I guess I needed some backbone. Anyway, Danny and the guys came along, but it was difficult having them there to see it all when you turned me down like you did."

Meg shivered at his words. He looked so open, so vulnerable. "Jim, I'm so sorry! I didn't realize." A tear trickled down one cheek. "You must have been so hurt. I thought--"

“Don’t, sweetheart.” He kissed her tears away. “You don’t have to say anything. Now I understand what you thought. Danny and his buddies were setting us both up. I should have realized he didn’t have good intentions—toward either of us. That much of it was my fault.”

Jim lifted her fingers to his lips and tenderly kissed them. "I doubt if I was hurt as much as you were. I never would have asked you if I'd known about Danny Sherwood, or I'd at least have picked a more private place. I'm sorry, Meg. I can't tell you how sorry I am."

There was a long, silent moment as they held and comforted one another, both adjusting to the news they’d just shared, Meg hearing over and over again the way his voice had sounded when he called her sweetheart. As he started to let her go, Meg asked, "Hold me longer? Please?" And Jim drew her close.

"I hate to think of all the memories we might have shared if it hadn't been for Danny Sherwood's cruel humor," he said, his voice raw with emotion.

Meg thought of the snake coiled in the desert sand, the caricature of Danny Sherwood at their reunion party. "Forget him," she said. "He's not worth all the thought we're giving him. Besides, it isn't too late." Her voice warmed. She looked up and touched his lips with the tip of her finger, invitation in her eyes. "We can start making memories now."

"That's the best idea I've heard all day." Jim dipped his head and took her mouth in the sweetest of kisses, holding her against him as if he never planned to let her go.

* * * *

Throughout the long evening they talked, ate, kissed, talked again and kissed again. Whenever it looked like things might go a little farther, Jim always pulled back, and then when Meg called him on it, he said, “I have my own reasons, and just now I’m not quite ready to share them. Please keep trusting me a little longer.” She accepted his answer with a frustrated sigh.

Jim asked once when she'd have to return to Walnut Creek and Meg told him she would need to leave by the next Friday afternoon when Frank got home.

"It's too bad about the snake dances," Jim repeated. "Are you sure you can't go with me on Saturday?"

"No, I need to be getting back," she answered, not yet ready to tell him she might be staying in Walnut Creek very long. "Jim?"

He cuddled nearer, stroking her hair. "Hm?"

"I've been thinking about that Dag Hammarskjold quote. What do you suppose he meant?''

Jim paused. "I expect it has to do with what you were saying earlier, about how it can be easier to give to the masses than to develop a deep, intimate relationship with another soul."

"But he called it more noble. Is something noble just because it's difficult?"

Jim looked thoughtful. "Perhaps he means that love is ennobling, and the only way to know real love is to lose yourself completely in another's well-being."

Meg's voice dropped as her thoughts turned inward. "Then perhaps I've never known what real love is," she murmured quietly, thinking of her cold relationship with her mother, with almost everyone she knew.

"What did you say? I didn't hear you."

"Nothing. Just thinking aloud." But the thought stayed with her, like a puzzle piecing itself together as she watched.

It was late when Jim left Meg at Sally's doorstep and early the next morning when he picked her up for a sunrise picnic of crescent rolls, cream cheese, fresh strawberries, and iced melon. They ate on the bluff overlooking Jim's home before driving into town for church. Meg thought of the mornings that stretched into the future, wondering if they could all be like this.

Once again Jim beamed with pride as he sat beside her in the pew. Once again the family took her in as one of their own and made her welcome among them. Once again they all retreated to Kate's parlor for the usual musical interlude, only this time it was Meg who whispered to Chris to draw Jim away for a while.

"Come on and help me check the animals, Jim," Chris said as he headed for the door.

"What? Again?" Jim seemed unwilling to relinquish his place at Meg's side. "Let Kurt go this time."

"Jim, be a sport," Kate advised, flashing Meg a conspiratorial wink.

"Okay, okay," Jim grumbled, but then he looked from Meg to Kurt to his mother. "But there's something rotten in Rainbow Rock."

Chris said, “Come on, Hamlet. Just ignore them and follow me.”

"Everything's fine, dear," Kate assured him. "Just go do what you're supposed to do. We'll take care of everything here."

As soon as the door closed, Meg grabbed Kurt by the hand and dragged him into the kitchen. "Call your friend. Tell him yes!" she said, adding an emphatic, "Partner."

Kurt's eyes lit up, but he hesitated. "Are you sure, Meg? Are you absolutely sure?"

"No," Meg answered honestly. "I'm scared half to death, but I'm excited too. I think we're doing the right thing."

Kurt searched her eyes, and then slowly nodded. "Okay. I'll call him in the morning." He leaned and kissed her cheek. "Welcome to the family, Sis."

"Whoa there, partner! All we're talking here is business. Besides, there are still a few things I need to take care of before I'll be ready to tell Jim about this. Okay?"

Kurt nodded. "Okay. Your guilty secret is safe with me."

"What guilty secret?"

Meg groaned. What a time for Jim to walk into the kitchen! "I thought you were helping Chris."

"I forgot my work gloves. They're on the back porch." He looked from Kurt to Meg, not much of a distance. "I'd sure like to know what I was interrupting here."

Kurt patted Meg's shoulder and grinned. "Yeah, I'll bet you would." He winked at Meg and left the kitchen.

All the thunderclouds Meg had ever seen seemed to be converging in the McAllister kitchen, settling on Jim's face. "Meg, what's going on here?" he demanded.

Meg swallowed. If Jim was impressive under normal circumstances, he was fabulous when angry. But how much dared she say? "Kurt and I have been working on something," she answered, her voice unsteady. "I think you’re going to like it, but I'm not quite ready to tell you yet. I need you to trust me.”

The last words caught Jim's attention. It had only been a few hours since he had used them with her. "Okay," he said, though his reluctance showed in his frown. "But I hope you plan to tell me soon."

"Quite soon," Meg answered. “Promise.”

Chris came into the kitchen then to say he didn’t really need Jim in the barns and together the three of them rejoined the family.

Jim dropped her off early that evening, explaining that he hated to spend any of her few remaining days away, but the boutique in Phoenix was having more trouble over some plastic turquoise they'd sold to a wealthy client. He'd need to be gone all day Monday. Meg hoped her relief didn't show on her face. She needed Monday to work on her plans.

She began early the next morning, calling Monty at his office, but he wasn't in. Then she made several other calls: to start the process of listing her condo, to see if the writer Kurt had mentioned at the local college would be willing to do some free-lance scripting, to check on distribution networks and graphics designers, and... A wave of panic washed over Meg as she picked up the phone again. Was she really ready to go into business on her own? What if it failed? And what if she and Jim—

No, she refused to think about that now. She breathed deeply and dialed Monty's direct number.

"Meg! I was just about to call you," he said when she reached him. "Are you ready to come back to work?"

"Actually, no," Meg answered, and then decided to work into her resignation speech slowly. "Monty, I had the chicken pox."

"Chicken pox!" Then Monty chuckled. Meg couldn't remember the last time she'd heard Monty chuckle. "Well, I guess that's one of the hazards of being around kids, isn't it? Are you going to be okay?"

What was this? When had Monty ever asked about her welfare? "Yes, thanks, but I'm covered with spots. I won't be doing any seminars for a while."

"That's okay, Meg. Take your time."

Meg shook her head to be sure she'd heard right. "Excuse me?"

"Take your time and get better. We're not going to put you on the seminar circuit the minute you get back." Monty paused and Meg held her breath. "I've been thinking about what you said last time we talked. You're right, you know. We could do well with a series on team management techniques. When you come back, I want you to take a month to plan the curriculum. We'll start advertising it right away and..."