friends, have pie shakes with Lucius. A thought surfaced. Maybe she should set
up shop on her own. Get back to design work, where she started.
She shook her head, needing to clear it. Well, right now, her job was here.
And she knew that just being pals with John Wells or depending on his politeness wasn't going to win any contract. She was going to need to do a lot more work. A lot more, and without distractions this time.
* * *
Peter set the last dish in the dishwasher, closed the door, then leaned on the edge of the sink, breathing out a slow sigh. Through the kitchen window, the branches
of the ancient elm in the backyard waved, each breeze setting free a new set of
leaves.
It should have been easy, this thing with Kate. He shouldn't have been so distracted at work, forgetting student's names, forgetting a lab study session and arriving late. Looking out the north window of his house just in case a bright yellow Volkswagen was parked in the street. Wondering if she was even coming
back again.
It was stupid, like he was a high school kid again, like the kids he saw in the
hallways, drama feeding on drama. But he wasn't. He was grown, but he was acting like them, wasn't he?
He wiped his hands on a towel and dropped it on the counter. The family portrait hung in its spot, next to the back door, where it had been the past fifteen or so years. It was the one they took at Sears in Iowa City when he was in ninth
grade when he'd insisted on wearing his V-neck shirt. Good thing he hadn't had any chest hair.
It was times like these, alone in the house, when he wished his dad was still
here. He could call his mom, but he knew she'd probably tell him to “be himself.” It wasn't bad advice, and she meant well, but sometimes he just wanted
to know what Dad would say. But that wasn't going to happen, was it?
He moved to the living room, grabbing a book on the way. Good night for a
fire in the fireplace. He hadn't had to turn the heat on yet, and he always hated to do so. Always meant summer was really gone, and winter would be setting in any day. As if he could ever stop something as inevitable as seasons changing.
That's what this felt like. Inevitable. Or was a better word impossible? As if
he had no choice, as if he couldn't avoid having to decide about Kate, once and
for all.
He gathered a few pieces of kindling from the rack next to the fireplace, placed them over the crumpled newspaper in a pyramid. In a few minutes, the blaze was crackling.
He hadn't moved, hypnotized by the orange flames wicking up the sides of
the logs. He almost laughed, a thought popping in his head. He knew the principles of combustion, had taught it for years. It read in his mind like and internal textbook. “A chemical process which occurs when oxygen reacts with another substance producing sufficient heat and light to cause ignition.”
But the simple dance of the flames was pure beauty, the flip side of the science, the mesmerizing one. So, was that him and Kate?
She might be proud of his artistic metaphor. If she were here.
He sat for a long time, the room dark, except for the flames of the slowly dying fire.
Chapter Fifteen
Geez, what was it with Golden Grove and its crazy conventions? First the bearded guys and now there was a barbershop quartet contest going on this weekend. The only available hotel room Kate could find was at the Super 6 on
the edge of town.
Not the classiest of accommodations, but she decided it was her best option.
Peter would be close by in case she needed more science help, but not so close
as to be a distraction. She needed to hunker down and get to work. No pie shakes, no convertible trips to the park, and no hanging out with him in his backyard or at the high school.
Eat, sleep, and breathe Nitrovex. Her nose wrinkled. Well, not breathe.
She spread out her computer on the tiny desk in her hotel room and tried to
get to it, Danni's words echoing. You sure you're still up to this, Kate?
Maybe not.
The barbershop quartets on either side of her thin-walled hotel room were in
full swing. She counted twelve rounds of “You Must Have Been a Beautiful Baby,” thirteen run-throughs of “Bye Bye Blackbird,” and a too-many-too-care
