Tempus (24 page)

I turned to face Mr. Knight, plastering a smile on my face.  Until now, I had felt completely comfortable.  I wasn’t sure what had changed, but my guess was it was nothing more than my own guilt for the conflicting feelings I had.  I kept the smile firmly in place.  “I can’t wait to see the rest of the house!”  My enthusiasm was genuine, at least.

Mr. Knight returned my smile without hesitation, “Shall we, then?”

“Certainly.”  I replied, using the same word Gabriel had used.

A contemplative looked crossed Mr. Knights face, but was gone as quickly as it had appeared.  I crossed to the doorway leading back to the hall, and we paused in the vestibule.

Mr. Knight indicated the stairway, “After you, my dear.”

I slowly began to climb the steep stairs, carefully keeping my hands to myself, as I had since I first got into Mr. Knights car.  As we climbed, he was sharing information about the house.  Mr. and Mrs. Frederick Leighton had the house built in 1870, as a summer home, and they had called it ‘Oak Grove.’  I liked the name.

The stairs curved to the right, and on the landing, Mr. Knight pointed out a few unique architectural features.  I was having a hard time concentrating on the information, my mind kept wandering back to Gabriel and that near collision.  I could still feel where his hands had held my shoulders. 

Mr. Knight opened each door on the west wall, stepping inside and giving a brief amount of information on the contents of each.  The final was the master suite.  It was huge, with a central profiled wall, flanked on either side by floor to ceiling windows covered in heavy drapes, which were pulled aside to allow the light inside.  The bed
had a towering headboard, with a semicircular molded arch, and urn shaped finials.  The arched and carved footboard mirrored the headboard in style.

On the right wall, the matching dresser sat flush, carved in similar fashion, with a white marble top.  The matching washstand and mirror were directly across the room from the dresser, near the door to the master bath.  On the wall nearest the door sat a large burled walnut desk.  I wished I could touch each piece.

I wandered around the room in admiration, telling him what I knew of the time and style.  He smiled, and seemed to appreciate my knowledge.  I couldn’t help showing off, just at least a little.  He explained his personal acquisition of each with obvious pleasure.  As we stepped back toward the hall, Gabriel’s voice called us to lunch downstairs.

“To be continued?”  Mr. Knight asked.

“Absolutely!”

Downstairs in the dining room, Gabriel had outdone himself.  The table was set with lovely golden-threaded place mats, plates in the center, burgundy napkin and fork to the left, knife and spoons to the right.  To the above right of each plate were what could only be crystal goblets, filled with ice water.

A small platter of cold cuts sat in the center of the table with a platter of cheese slices on one side, a platter of vegetables on the other.  There was also a variety of condiments, and a selection of sliced breads.  I stood in the doorway surveying the table with surprise.

Gabriel looked almost embarrassed.  “I failed to ask your favorite meats and cheeses, so I hope you see something you like.”

My stomach growled for the first time since on the porch, and Gabriel and his father burst out laughing.  I was so embarrassed; I crossed my arms over my stupid stomach and wanted to crawl under the table.  I could feel my cheeks burning hot, until Mr. Knights’ stomach growled, too.

He patted me on the back, “It seems we are in complete agreement.”

I laughed a little then, relaxing, and walked to the chair nearest me.  I thought Gabriel was going to break a leg rushing around the table, and it took a moment for it to sink in why.  He pulled out the chair for me, and scooted it to the table as I sat.

Mr. Knight sat at the head of the table; Gabriel walked around and sat directly across from me.  Mr. Knight looked to Gabriel.  “Grace, please.”

The last time I had said grace at a table was with my mom.  She was always the one to remember, and to insist.  I felt guilty as I dutifully clasped my hands and bowed my head.  ‘Sorry, Mom,’ I said in my head.

Gabriel’s voice rang out, “For food in a world of hunger, for faith in a world of fear, for friends in a world of loneliness, we give thee thanks, Oh Lord.  Bless these, thy bountiful gifts.  Amen.”

“Amen.”  I echoed.

“Forgive my informality,” Mr. Knight said as he stabbed a few slices of meat with his fork.  I watched as he assembled a sandwich in what
had
to be record time.  I tried not to giggle.

There was so much food!  I was still trying to decide what to get, and my stomach began to protest.  Gabriel smiled and asked, “Is there something you particularly like?”

“It all looks so good; I think my brain is overloaded.”  I was still looking, trying to figure out what was what.

“Say the first sandwich meat that comes to your mind.”

“Ham.”

“Sweet, or smoked?”  He asked.

“Smoked.”

“Smoked ham, it is. “  He said, turning the correct ham toward me, his eyes so bright they were unsettling.  I stabbed a couple of slices with my fork and moved them to my plate.

“Cheese?”  He asked.

“Swiss, of course.  It goes best with ham.”  I didn’t know what half the other cheeses even were.

He turned the cheese platter, and I stabbed the swiss.  “Vegetables?”

“Hmm.  Lettuce and tomato.”  He turned the vegetable platter, and I removed the mentioned veggies.

He glanced up, looking at me through his dark eyelashes.  “Bread?” 

“I like wheat, but not dry wheat.”  I couldn’t look away from him until he looked down again.

“Try this one.”  He suggested, pointing to the slices on one end.  I plucked out two pieces, trying to ignore the quiver in my stomach that was quickly replacing the hunger.

He then held up the mustard.  “I’m only assuming.”  He smiled.

“You assumed correctly.”  I replied, taking the mustard and avoiding eye contact.

I built my sandwich in a rush.  The first bite was the best thing I had tasted in I don’t know how long.  It could have been because the food was
that
good, it could have been because I was so hungry, or the third reason could have been that Gabriel had gone to such trouble over simple sandwiches.  The following bites, nevertheless, were just as good as the first.

There was little talking, but between biting, chewing and swallowing, we somehow managed a few words of conversation.  I was feeling completely comfortable again, the earlier awkwardness nearly forgotten.

During our meal, Gabriel suggested his father call my dad and invite him over for dinner.  Mr. Knight suggested Gabriel call instead, since he was not a
stranger
, unlike himself.  Gabriel looked at me for permission, so I nodded my assent.

 After we had stuffed ourselves with bread and cold cuts, Gabriel stood and began to clear the table.  I started to scoot back, and Mr. Knight almost fell out of his chair scrambling to stand before I could, and Gabriel once again rushed around to hold my chair.

I couldn’t help but laugh this time.  “Why do you
do
that?”  I looked from one to the other, and they looked at each other.

“It is
polite
.”  Gabriel said, shrugging his shoulders a little.

“But you shouldn’t nearly break a leg running around a table.  I am fully capable of standing and sitting on my own.”  I stated.

“Are you?”  Gabriel asked in a teasing voice.

“
Usually
.”  I answered, thinking about how I’d fallen on him twice, and thinking of the near mishap earlier in the parlor.

He seemed to understand he had something to do with my recent clumsiness, and his eyes twinkled as a smile broke out on his face.  “We’ll
see
.”  He said with amusement.

I helped Gabriel clear the table, in spite of his frequent and persistent protests.  I also helped him wrap and put away food and wash the dishes.  I asked for a cloth to buff the table while he put the dishes away.  When we were finished, all was back in order.

“You can tour the rest of the house now, or I can take you for a stroll around the grounds.”  He waited as I tried to decide.  “There is a small pond toward the back, a lovely garden with a bridge, and an ivy-covered gazebo.”

“A gazebo?”  I asked.

“Yes, a beautiful gazebo,
covered
in ivy vines.  It’s very shady and cool.”  He was trying to entice me, and it was working.

“Okay, let’s see
the grounds
.”  I said.

I waited as Gabriel ran up to the library, a room I hadn’t seen yet, and told his father about our plans.  Once back downstairs, he escorted me through the house, and we exited onto the back porch.  There were shady groves of trees, and open spaces throughout the back of the property.  I could see the gazebo near a large, sprawling oak. 

Gabriel held out his arm like a prom escort, so I placed my hand at his elbow.  “Shall we?”

“
Indeed
.”  I replied.  His manner of speaking was rubbing off on me, just a little.

The whole life of man is but a point of time; let us enjoy it.

—Plutarch

The breezes blew across the open spaces, lifting my hair and twisting it gently.  The air smelled crisp, and sunny, if sunny had a scent.  I was growing more accustomed to the electric hum I felt near Gabriel, and the stronger sensations I had when we touched.  I was still very aware of it, even so.  I wondered if he could feel it at all, or if it was only me.

The gazebo was beautiful.  Two cascading cupolas capped the octagonal roof.  The turned posts, balustrade, lattices, and fretwork were white, but the hardwood floor was simply stained a deep brown and polished.  Ivy vines grew up and through the lattice, and clung to the scalloped edges of the roof.

We stepped through a swinging curtain of ivy.  The inside had bench-type seating all around, with thick, inviting cushions.  It was surprisingly clean for an outdoor structure.  Gabriel seemed to like the place very much, and I felt him relax his posture immediately.

“What do you think?”  He asked as he watched my eyes take in all the details.

“It’s incredible!”  I admitted, walking slowly around, peeking out through the vines.

“My Father wants to remove all the Ivy, said it will compromise the structure.  I argued the ivy is part of its charm.  What say you?”

“I agree with
you
.”  Through the swinging vines, I could see the pond to the north, partially surrounded by weeping willows.

  Gabriel sat on one of the thick cushions, still watching me.  “I should call your father.”  He said suddenly.

For a moment, I wondered how I would feel if Dad said no.  Surely he wouldn’t say no.  “Go ahead.  You’ll have to call the store though, and I’m not sure if he’ll be back.”  Either way, he would have to talk to Steve, since
he
usually answered the phone.  If Dad was there, I’m sure he would
tell
Steve anyway.  I felt that twinge of guilt come back.  It must have shown on my face.

“You’re not obligated to me, or my father, in any way.  You can say no, and I will understand completely.”  Gabriel was swiftly beside me, searching my face.

“Why did you say that?”  I asked, trying to sound confused, and failing.

“I know what crossed your mind.  I may not know exactly how you thought it, but I know what you thought.  You are a good person, and though you argue that he is
not
your boyfriend, you do care for him, or at least care about his feelings.  I can see that.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that, he had me pegged, and any argument would make me look bad.  He placed a hand on my arm, setting it on fire.  I leaned against one of the posts, and closed my eyes.  “Life was so much simpler a week ago.”  I mused.

“Maybe it would help to talk about it?”  Gabriel was gently guiding me to sit, and then sat beside me.

“There’s too much.  Too many things, some too personal.”  I was thinking about the porch-swing and my birthday.  I thought of Steve kissing me there to make up for it.  Steve was a good guy.  And why did I keep telling myself that?  Why did I have to keep telling myself he was a ‘good guy?’

“You could try, I’m an excellent listener.”  There was a gentleness and concern on his face mostly reserved for someone you knew much better than he knew me.  It was disconcerting, because as much as I loved Julie, as much as she had been my
best
friend, I couldn’t tell her my most important secret ever.

I had the strangest feeling I could tell Gabriel everything, and nothing would change.  He wouldn’t think I was crazy, and he would ask me questions, and let me talk, and maybe even be interested.  I never realized until now what a burden those simple glimpses could be.  They
weren’t
a burden, until they were no longer simple.

“Would it help if I said don’t worry about tonight, maybe another time?  It was just an idea I thought would be nice.  I like to show off, if you haven’t noticed.”