She couldnt remember the last time shed felt this good. Shed accomplished something. And not something easy, like negotiating a good deal for an antique or picking the right fabric for the sofa. This was something that mattered.
She poured herself a glass of wine, then grabbed the phone and called Meghann. The answering machine picked up.
"I painted, Meg. Painted! Yee-ha. And just for the record, my instructor is a doll. The perfect age for you. Call me when you get home. "
Laughing, she put on a Smash Mouth CD. "Hey Now, Youre an All Star" blasted through the speakers. She sang along, dancing all by herself in the living room. As she twirled past the fireplace, she caught sight of the photo on the mantel and came to a stop.
It was Jack and the girls. She couldnt quite remember when it had been taken, but there was snow in the background and everyone was dressed for an overnight stay in the Arctic.
Jack wore a sheepskin-lined beige suede jacket; his hair was too long. The first threads of gray shaded the hair above his ears.
Suddenly she wished he were here right now. He would be proud of her. The old love, the feeling that had been such a part of her, came back now, reminding her that life had once been good with Jack. Shed almost forgotten that.
She moved on to the picture beside it. This was an old shot, taken years ago. She was dressed in a plaid skirt and a shetland wool sweater, with a strand of pearls at her throat. He wore Calvin Klein jeans, a lettermans jacket, and a football stars cocky smile. Behind them, the ice cream cone of Mount Rainier floated above Frosh Pond.
The University of Washington.
The sand castle years.
She closed her eyes, swaying to the music, remembering those days . . . the first time hed kissed her . . .
Theyd been studying together, sitting on a flat, grassy place in the Quad. It had been late spring; the cherry trees were just past full bloom, and tiny pink blossoms floated randomly to the ground. All around them, kids in shorts and T-shirts played Frisbee and kicked Hacky Sacks around.
Jack leaned over and slapped her book shut. "You know what they say about studying. If you do it too much, youll go blind. "
Laughing, she flopped back onto the grass and rested her hands behind her head.
He lay down beside her, on his side, with his head supported on one hand. "Youre so beautiful. I guess your Harvard fiance tells you that all the time. "
"No. " Her voice was barely above a whisper. A pink cherry blossom petal landed on her cheek.
He brushed it away, and at the contact, she shivered. Slowly, he leaned toward her, giving her plenty of time to stop him, to roll away.
She lay very still, breathing too quickly.
It wasnt much of a kiss; no more than a quick, scared brushing of lips. When he drew back, she saw that he was as shaken as she. She started to cry.
"Could you ever love a guy like me?"
"Oh, Jack," she answered, "why do you think Im crying?"
She touched the photograph, let her finger glide across his handsome face. No other mans kiss had ever made her cry.
For the first time in weeks, she wondered if there was still a chance for them.
Now that shed painted again, anything seemed possible. Color and passion had come back into her world; she was no longer a woman drawn in shades of gray.
The phone rang.
Meghann.
Elizabeth swooped down to answer it. "Did you get laid tonight?"
"Uh . . . Birdie?"
Elizabeth winced. Damn. "Hi, Anita, sorry about that. "
"Im sorry to call so late. Its just that . . . you said youd call. "