Authors: Marissa Doyle
“Thank you. Renee gave it to me because she liked the way it looked with my hair.” She stroked it and looked up at him. “Actually, it matches your eyes.”
“Does it? Well, then. My eyes are upon you, Theodora,” he said, making a threatening face at her. “Literally.”
She smiled. “You’re far too nice to be able to look convincingly predatory.”
“And you’re far too clever to be caught by any common predator. Not that it wouldn’t be tempting to try. But I’d rather be your friend.” He held a glass out to her, then raised his own. “You’re pensive tonight. Is everything all right?”
“Oh, it’s—you know. Same old, same old.” She shrugged and tried to look more lively.
“Are things with Grant still troubling you?”
Hell. She didn’t want to think about that right now. “Well…yes. I’ve been worried about his health. Have you seen how pale and tired he looks all the time? And I, er, sort of lost my temper with him. We’ve called a truce until after spring break.”
“I hope you can resolve things with him, one way or another. I don’t like to see my friends unhappy.” Julian’s expression was concerned. “What are you doing for spring break, anyway? Going home?”
“No. Dr. Waterman asked if I would fish-sit for him, and I said yes. I also thought I’d try to get work on course papers done that week, so that I’m not so swamped at the end of the semester. Like I was last year.” She popped a black olive, fragrant with rosemary and olive oil, into her mouth.
“You did very well last semester. But getting a head start is a good idea. I’ll be busy with projects too. Finalizing the annual department trip, for one thing.”
“Trip to where? That sounds exciting.”
He raised an eyebrow. “To Greece, of course. We visit several ancient sites and a few of the islands, do a little digging if I can arrange it, and have a wonderful time. You should consider coming.”
Theo remembered her father’s story of his first visit to Greece. His “nymph” was probably now a wrinkled grandmother in a black dress and kerchief in some village somewhere. “It does sound wonderful. But I’ll need to get a summer job and earn some tuition money.”
“Are you sure I can’t tempt you? It’s not for the whole summer, after all.” He chose an olive from the tray and ate it. “The olives there make these taste like cardboard. The afternoon sunshine would turn your hair to molten gold as we sat outside tavernas drinking retsina, and all the old women and young men would cluster around you to stroke it.” Julian’s voice was low and caressing. It insinuated itself into her middle and coiled seductively around until she felt hot and short of breath.
“Of course you can tempt me. How can I not be tempted when you say things like that? But I’ll have to be good and resist.” Julian was watching her with narrowed eyes, the way a hawk watches its prey before it stoops for the capture. It made her breath come even shorter.
“What will I do if you successfully resist temptation? It would be a very lonely trip if you didn’t come. I would be forced to request that you to return to school early in August and have dinner with me every night like this to atone.” He pretended to look stern as he refilled her glass.
“I would have to do as you say, of course,
Magister
,” she said with mock submissiveness. “But it would be more pleasure than punishment.”
“It would, would it? We’ll see about this summer,
kalliste
Theodora.” He smiled. “I can be very persuasive, you know.”
…
The next night Grant came to her in the Great Room. Theo watched him over the top of her book as he prowled around, hands behind his back, stooped and pale but full of febrile energy. That had to be an improvement; the last few days she wasn’t sure he would have the energy to teach his class, much less pace the room.
She sighed to herself and said aloud, “You’re going to wear a path in the mosaics, which would be a shame. They’re one of my favorite things here.”
He didn’t smile, but at least sat down on the couch next to her. That was an improvement, too. Until he started drumming his fingers on his knee.
“Grant,” she said, trying to keep her voice pleasant.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said suddenly.
“I’d noticed,” she muttered, and put a slip of paper in her book. “What have you been thinking?”
“That it’s time for you to come to Eleusinian. This summer. I want you to spend the summer with me in New Hampshire.”
Theo felt her mouth fall open in surprise.
“There’s a small guest cottage that you could stay in, if you liked, or you could stay in my—” He looked down at his hands. “We give summer classes in Latin and Greek for high school and college students. You could teach and earn some of what you’ll need for the year. The faculty are wonderful. More amazing than anyone you’ve met, even here. And we could be together. It’s beautiful in the mountains in summer, warm in the day and cool at night, and the stars are so close when we lie in the meadows on clear nights—”
“Not to mention the porcupines and moose,” she murmured.
“And the porcupines and moose,” he agreed, his mouth curving into the smile she hadn’t seen since fall. “Maybe you’ll be able to teach the moose to pronounce their
s
’s and
t
’s.”
A feeling of unreality washed over Theo. Once she would have danced with happiness at this invitation. But now? A fleeting vision of impossibly blue water and white stucco walls beckoned in her mind, hot sun on her shoulders and chill pine-scented wine on her lips.
“Olivia’s thrilled at the idea,” Grant continued enthusiastically. “She can’t wait to meet you. In fact, she said she’d come back here with me after spring break to—”
“What?” The seductive visions of Greece abruptly vanished. Olivia, coming here? Theo could just picture Olivia eyeing her with June Cadwallader’s ice-pick gaze, her perfect lips curling in barely concealed disdain as she held out a limp hand in greeting.
“Olivia called and told me today that she’d come for a visit. She used to teach here, remember? So she’ll get to see her old friends and have a chance to get to know you before the summer.”
“Whoa. Wait one minute. I haven’t said I’m going anywhere.” Theo rose and began to retrace Grant’s path around the couch, too agitated to sit still. Olivia? Here? No. This was her place, her turf. Things were strained enough between her and Grant without adding Olivia to the mix.
“What? But don’t you want to—”
“We shouldn’t be talking about what I want, when we still don’t know what
you
want. I won’t commit to go with you to Eleusinian for the whole summer when I don’t even know if we’ll be speaking to each other come the end of the month.”
Grant stared at her. “But—Olivia—” he began weakly.
“This isn’t about Olivia! I’d go to Eleusinian because of you, not her. And I don’t have any idea whether or not I want to risk it. Do you have any idea what it’s been like these months, when I’ve waited for you to take what I’ve held out to you with both hands. My arms have gotten awfully tired, waiting for you. Maybe it’s time for me to give them a rest.”
Grant’s face was white, whiter than she had ever seen it. “
Your
arms are tired?
You
need a rest? You have no idea what I’ve been through these last weeks, for your sake,” he half whispered.
“No, because you haven’t seen fit to tell me. So you’ve been pushing me away for my own sake? You have a strange notion of love, Grant.” She was no longer there, though she didn’t notice. Nor was she talking to Grant. She was talking to years of being ignored and slighted as a frumpy teacher of a dead language. Feeling the pain of falling in love too fast and deep with a man who couldn’t seem to return her love. Watching her dreams of happiness with him turn to ash—or worse, fade to nothing, because they’d never been real in the first place.
Grant sat still on the couch, elbows on knees, gripping his head. “Theo. I’m sorry. I’m doing this all wrong,” he said into his hands. “I should have waited to ask you about coming to Eleusinian until later. I should have done it differently. But I was so happy, with Olivia saying she’d come—”
“You can continue to be happy that she’s coming. Be thrilled,” she retorted. Then it was as if the fire in her went out. She stared at him, her hands rising to her burning cheeks. Then she fled the Great Room.
Chapter Eleven
On Tuesday Theo slunk out of her room to attend classes and slunk back as soon as they were over. But by Wednesday a little pride had spread, scab-like, over her pain. If this was how things were going to be, then so be it. She would have to get through the rest of the year coexisting with Grant in the department, and she might as well begin today. But she was careful not to pass by his classroom door on her way to teach her Latin class, and after class went straight to Dr. Waterman’s rhetoric class without looking to the left or right.
By evening she was feeling even braver. So she packed up her reading and grimly marched over to Hamilton Hall, to study on her accustomed couch in the Great Room.
To her relief, the room was empty. “Though it’s nothing to me if he should choose to work here. It’s time for me to get over it,” she told herself sternly, fluffing the cushions on her couch before she made herself comfortable.
The room was quiet. It generally was, but tonight the silence seemed almost tangible. She glanced around her, then over at the other end of the couch. Right there was where he had sat the other night, clutching his head like it was about to explode, his face a mask of misery—
Wasn’t she miserable too? Hadn’t she cried her share of tears? Hadn’t she been feeling like dirt since before Christmas?
You were miserable, yes. But you weren’t ill and confused and unsure how to handle things. There were a few things, though, that you were. Impatient, unfair, unkind. Too ready to see injury and insult where it probably wasn’t intended. Too busy feeling your own sadness and hurt to be mindful of someone else’s.
Dammit, he’d hurt her! He led her along, let her think he loved her, and then behaved like a kid in a candy shop who can’t make up his mind about which sweet he’d rather have. Was it her or Olivia? It—it just started to hurt too much
.
So you lashed out in return.
“Stop it,” she said aloud to the calm impartial voice of her conscience in her head. “I won’t listen any more.” She slid down in her seat and curled up into a tight ball of unhappiness, putting her hands over her ears as tears squeezed from the corners of her tightly shut eyes.
“Theodora?”
“No. No—” she said to the voice calling her name. She didn’t want to listen to it anymore, listen to it explain to her exactly how she’d messed up things with Grant even worse—
Hands closed over her own, gently but inexorably pulling them away from her ears. She struggled, but the hands raised her to her feet. Even before she opened her eyes, even before the arms had gathered her against him she knew who it was, and let herself collapse against Julian’s chest.
“Ssh. My poor Theodora, it’s all right. It’s all right,” he murmured, holding her tightly as he stroked her hair. “That’s right. Let it all out.”
The rich clear voice rumbled under her cheek, and she felt the tension leach from her under the spell of his words and his hands until her bones themselves seemed to dissolve. Only his words and arms kept her from falling to the floor. Her tears gradually ceased, and she felt empty and peaceful, like a bubble floating above a stormy sea. She would be content to stand there all night, safe in the harbor of his arms, if staying there would keep the voice of her conscience at bay.
After a while—she was not sure how long—he drew back to look at her. “Better?” he asked softly.
She nodded and reached up to brush away tears. As she did, she saw Julian’s face change. He was staring at her hand with an unreadable expression on his face.
“Julian?”
He took her hand and examined it closely. “That’s an unusual ring,” he said at last. “Where did you get it?”
Grant’s ring. She had forgotten about it. Or had she left it on in unconscious hope of—of what? “It’s Grant’s. He gave it to me. For Christmas. I—I’m not sure if I should still be wearing it, though.”
“I see.” He stared at it for a moment longer, his face still carefully blank, then let it go. “It’s an interesting piece…but I’m more concerned about you. What made you so very sad?” He pushed her hair back from her face, then softly touched her cheek. His eyes were so close, closer than they had ever been. She could fall into them, like sliding into a warm tropical sea, let their blue depths hold her
“It’s Grant. I don’t know what to do,” she whispered. “He—I don’t know if he loves me or not.”
“Do you love him?” His voice was gentle, but demanded an answer.
“Yes.” To her surprise, the word came out with no hesitation. “And I thought he loved me. But he’s been so strange lately that I don’t know what to believe.”
“Perhaps it’s time you two spent some time apart, to give you some perspective.” He was rubbing her back gently, rhythmically, so that she wanted to purr like Dido.
“We sort of were. But then he asked me to come to the Eleusinian Institute with him this summer.”
Julian’s eyebrows rose. “Do you think that would be wise? Olivia—” He sighed. “I dislike speaking ill of colleagues—even former ones—but Olivia is not to be trusted. She—well, the word ‘man-eater’ comes to mind. I was actually relieved when she left here. She did not reflect well on my department.”
Theo winced. How could Grant not see that? “He insists that they’re just friends.”
“Hmmph. He may think so, but I’m not convinced. What did you say to him?”
“I didn’t. I was too upset. I can’t—won’t—go to him, if he’s in love with Olivia.”
“Of course you can’t, if that’s the way things are. My poor sweet Theodora.” Julian was silent for a moment. “You know, you really must think about coming to Greece with me this summer,” he finally said. “I think it would do you a world of good.”
“Oh, I—”
“There’s time for you to think about it. I’ll hold a place for you until the moment we step on the plane. I want you to do what will be best for you. Not that I don’t think that coming with me isn’t the best choice you could make.” His voice smiled. “Come to my office tomorrow afternoon. We can talk about it a little more, and I can show you the new trip brochures that just arrived.”