Annie's Answer (13 page)

“Try one of
these,” Nathan said putting it on the small plate in front of her.

“It’s cheese,”
she said after gingerly biting into it. The warm melted center was delicious,
so she helped herself to another.

“Try the
zucchini,” he said, again putting it on her plate.

She broke the
piece in half and put it in her mouth, scalding her tongue in the process. Her
first instinct was to put it in her napkin, but she didn’t want to make a
spectacle of herself. Instead she grabbed the goblet of ice water to cool her
mouth.

Nathan didn’t
seem to notice.

“How was your
day?” she asked when her tongue recovered.

“Busy. I
printed out a fourteen-page e-mail from my father this morning,” he said
shaking his head. “This on a day when Bonnie was off, and I had appointments
back to back until three.”

“Fourteen
pages?” she asked.

“He tries to
run the practice even when he’s not there—which is often. My mother has a
travel bug, but I guess they deserve time to themselves. She’ll probably come
home with seventeen kinds of French perfume and want me to sniff them.”

“She must
value your opinion.”

“I can’t
imagine why. They all smell the same to me—too strong. I like what you’re
wearing though.”

“It’s called
shampoo,” she said with a giggle. “I’ve never found a perfume that smells as
nice as lilacs in the spring. I’m excited to be surrounded by flowers when I
buy my shop.”

“I’m sorry I
didn’t think to get a corsage for you.”

“We’re not
going to the senior prom,” she protested. What would he think if he knew she
was wearing her old prom dress?

Randy
practically tiptoed up to their table to remove the appetizer course. Did he
think they were an item? If he spread the word about their date, she could
imagine the questions her friends would ask.

When he
returned with their dinners, she nearly shrieked. The trout was staring up at
her with a dead eye that gave her the creeps.

“I can’t eat
something that’s looking at me,” she blurted out, quickly realizing how naïve
she must sound.

“Take it back
to the kitchen and remove the head, please,” Nathan said.

“Yes, sir.”
Was Randy holding back a laugh? Great, just what she wanted to do: provide
entertainment for the waiter.

Nathan didn’t
cut into his Beef Wellington until Randy returned with her decapitated
fish.  He’d ordered a pink beef tenderloin filet surrounded by puff
pastry.

“Let me put
part of this on your plate. Beef Wellington is the specialty of the house.
You’ve got to try it.”

Did he suspect
she’d never even seen it, let alone tasted it?

She tried to
enjoy her dinner, but she was distracted by Nathan’s hands. They were lightly
tanned with strong-looking fingers. It made her want to hide her hands in her
lap. No amount of filing or polishing could disguise her chapped fingers from
scrubbing up at the restaurant. Good old George didn’t want his waitresses to
wear rubber gloves. Said they made them look like the cleaning crew.

They finished
dinner with tiny white china cups of coffee, but passed up the rich pastries
and cheesecake on the dessert cart.

“We’d better
get going,” Nathan said. “Most theatres won’t let you go to your seat until
intermission if you’re late.”

This was one
more bit of new information, but the important thing she’d learned during the
dinner was about Nathan. He was easily the nicest man she’d ever met. When her
enchanted evening ended, it was going to be very hard to go back to being
nothing but his employee.

Nathan had
pretended to concentrate on eating, but he couldn’t help but watch Annie as she
took delicate bites of her food. Maybe he’d made a mistake bringing her to the
Windsor, the best but also the most pretentious restaurant in town. She didn’t
seem completely comfortable in the surroundings, and that was the last thing he
wanted.

“Ready to go?”
he asked after they finished their coffee. The cups were small enough for a
child’s tea party, but Annie was adorable as she carefully held hers with a
pinky finger extended.

“Yes, of course.”
Was that a smile of pleasure or relief?

He flipped his
credit card on the table and added a generous tip when their server immediately
took care of it. They had plenty of time to get to the theatre, but he didn’t
want to feel rushed.

In only minutes
they were in his car and on their way to the Barn Theatre.

“Thank you for
the lovely dinner,” Annie said.

“It was my
pleasure.” He absolutely meant it. “I don’t know much about the play we’re
going to see. I hope it’s good.”

“I’m sure it
will be.”

There were
lots of things he wanted to know about Annie, but he’d have to break through
her reserve.

“I did a
little theatre myself,” he said, a huge exaggeration but he wanted her to see
him as something other than her employer.

“Really?”

“Really,” he
said laughing. “I was in my prep school production of ‘Julius Caesar.’”

“We read that
in high school English. It must have been hard to learn those long speeches.
Did you play Caesar?”

“Hardly! I
bungled the tryouts so I’d get the smallest possible part. I didn’t want
rehearsals to interfere with soccer practice.”

“So what part
did you have?”

“Second
citizen.”

“Second
citizen?”

“I had some
stirring lines. My favorite was ‘Go fetch fire.’ You’d be surprised how many
ways you can say that: GO fetch fire, Go FETCH fire, Go fetch FIRE.”

“You must have
been the star of the show,” she said laughing.

He loved the
sound of her laughter. Unlike some women he’d known, she didn’t cackle, shriek,
or bellow. His mother wasn’t much on laughing. She tried to suppress it and
sometimes sounded like she was strangling. He didn’t want to tell that to
Annie. His mother cared too much about what other people thought, but he loved
her anyway.

“Let’s just
say I was a good soccer player.”

“On TV,
attorneys always sound like they’ve taken drama lessons during trials.”

“That’s
because they’re actors,” he teased. “But my father can really hold his own in
court. He loves the spotlight.”

“Do you?”

“No way.
Negotiation is my specialty. I always hope a client will plea bargain. The last
one should’ve listened to me. The jury found him guilty in less than two
hours.”

“That must
have been disappointing.” 

She was
clutching a small purse on her lap, nervously clasping and unclasping it. He
wanted her to be at ease with him, but he felt keyed up himself.

“Let’s just
say I’ll be glad when my dad gets back.”

In a small
town like Westover, it hadn’t been hard to learn a lot about Annie’s family. He
knew her father had passed away when she was young, and her grandfather had
lived with them since his retirement. Bonnie was a font of information, whether
he asked for it or not.

What he really
wanted to know was how Annie felt about him. Unfortunately he still hadn’t
figured out why it seemed so important.

“What do you
like to do when you’re not working?” he asked conversationally.

She turned
toward him looking surprised.

“Oh, just
ordinary things. See my friends—most of them are married and have
children now. Help out at church, work in the garden. My life must sound dull
to you.”

“Anything
but.” One consequence of going away to school so young was he had very few
‘old’ friends in town. He sometimes thought of becoming more involved at
church, but he kept putting it off until he had more time.

“When I was
ten, my mother got some little stakes and string. She marked off a section of
her garden and gave it to me to plant whatever I liked as long as I took care
of it. I tried everything from cucumbers to hollyhocks, but now it’s my rose
garden.”

“Taking care
of it is one more job you do.” He thought he was overworked, but compared to
her, he had a leisurely life.

“I have to
admit my grandfather helps me now. He loves flowers as much as I do.”

He wished
again he’d taken time to get flowers for her. Bonnie was only gone for a couple
of days, and he already realized how much he depended on her to do his errands.
He was as bad as Annie’s boss at the pancake place: taking advantage of an
employee to do things outside the job description.

“Your
grandfather is a great preacher. I can remember things he said when I was only
ten.”

“You’re nice
to say so. Of course, I agree with you, but he’s also kind and understanding. I
feel lucky to have him as my grandfather.”

The ride to
the summer theatre took at least half an hour, but time flew as they talked.
Nathan was almost sorry to get there, and he looked forward to talking to her
on the way home even more than the play.

The Barn
Theatre was a large red barn converted in stages over the years by a married
couple who’d made their mark in several television series. Apprentices did
everything from telling drivers where to park in a mowed field to serving as
ushers. A few were already in makeup and costume for parts in the production as
they did their other jobs.

“I don’t
remember it being so nice,” Annie said, stopping to admire large tubs of
flowers flanking the entrance.

He agreed but
didn’t want to mention his parents were financial supporters. He’d already made
a mistake taking her to a restaurant where she didn’t feel comfortable. Annie
didn’t seem to have a clue how special she was: gracious, lovely, caring.…

There weren’t
enough words to express how he felt about her.

The
refurbished theatre seats bolted on risers were a big improvement over the
folding chairs he remembered. After they were seated, Annie was quiet until the
house lights went out and the owner/director came out for a short curtain talk.

Did her
silence mean she was intimidated by the party in the row in front of them? The
women weren’t familiar, but he knew they were part of the self-professed high
society in the county. Almost all of the women wore thick makeup under faces
that barely moved from too much botox. Several wore floor-length gowns more
appropriate to a Broadway opening and were weighed down by too much jewelry.
His mother would be comfortable in that group.

He glanced
over at Annie in the darkened theatre and admired her sweet natural look. She
was different from any woman he’d ever dated, and being with her was like a
breath of fresh air.

When the
lights went out, he thought of taking her hand, but she was still clutching her
little purse. He took it as a sign she felt out of place but failed to think of
something to make her more at ease.

The first act
got off to a slow start with too much talk and not enough motivation. Until the
curtain talk, he hadn’t realized this was a new play. The owners of the Barn
held a contest and selected one for a trial run every season. They must be
doing someone a personal favor to put this one on the boards. Five minutes
after it began, he couldn’t remember the title.

His eyelids
drooped, and only frequent glances at Annie kept him from nodding off.

The audience
rose with a collective sigh at intermission, and he guided Annie to the
refreshment area outside where costumed apprentices were selling beverages from
a stand.

“Sorry, I seem
to have picked a lemon,” he said.

“No, it’s
fine. I’m enjoying it.”

She wasn’t
good at fibbing, but he instantly forgave her. It was only good manners not to
criticize his choice of a play—and a restaurant. He’d imagined the
evening as a time to get better acquainted with Annie, but she was as tense as
a newbie attorney pleading a case in court for the first time. Where was the
sweet, funny woman who’d taken him to Mama’s?

He took her
hand to return to their seats, surprised by how small and soft it was. Even in
heels her head barely came to his shoulder, but she made him feel protective.

“It’s not to
late to escape,” he teased when they sat down.

For a moment
her face lit up, and he thought she’d agree to skip the second half of the
play.

“I’d hate to
make the actors feel bad. I saw the people in front of us walking toward the
parking area. Imagine doing all this work and having the audience leave half
way through.”

Much as he
would’ve liked to skip the dreary second act, he was filled with admiration for
her thoughtfulness. She chose sitting through the world’s dullest play over
hurting the feelings of actors she didn’t even know.

“This feels
like the last day of school,” he said as they walked to his car after the
performance was finally over.

“Freedom as
last,” she said laughing. “But the actors did the best they could. According to
the program, they were all apprentices.”

Nathan thought
the equity actors were too smart to appear in a turkey like that, but he didn’t
say so. He was humbled by Annie’s consideration.

At least the
bad play opened the floodgates of conversation. They talked about movies they
liked and didn’t like, then books and television.

“I rarely
watch TV,” she said. “We don’t turn it on as a rule. My grandfather would rather
read, and Mom has too many other things she wants to do after work.”

“I’m glad
you’re helping Aunt Mattie do something other than watch it,” he said. “She
really likes you.”

“I like her
too.”

“Even though
she’s a constantly finding things for you to do?” he teased.

“I know she’d
rather be doing jobs herself.”

Annie lapsed
into silence when they reached the highway, and he soon realized she’d dozed
off. It took all his effort to concentrate on driving and not stare at her in
the glow of the headlights from oncoming cars.