After a slight pause Robert said, “Course not. But we better get moving. The matinee begins in twenty minutes, and it's two blocks from here.”
Seated in the dark theater and sandwiched between the two men, Laurel knew she'd made a mistake by inviting Adam. Although the two had bantered in a friendly way as they walked to the theater, friction sizzled. Now no one spoke as they waited for the film to begin. When the lights finally flashed onto the screen, Laurel relaxed.
After watching a newsreel about rising tensions in Europe, which showed footage of a nervous-looking man called Adolf Hitler, they saw a cartoon. Finally, the title Mutiny on the Bounty filled the screen and dramatic music resonated through the theater. Laurel felt her anxiety slip away.
By the time the reel ended and intermission was announced, Laurel had nearly forgotten about the tension between Robert and Adam. Robert leaned close and asked, “Can I get you something from the snack bar?”
Laurel was thirsty, but she knew money was scarce, so she said, “No, I'm fine.”
“I'm going to stretch my legs,” Adam said and stood. “I'll be back in a few minutes.” He ambled up the aisle.
“So, what did you think of the movie?” Robert asked.
“I didn't really like it much. It was disturbing, but I have to admit Charles Laughton made a perfect Captain Bligh.”
“Yeah, I agree.” Robert leaned back in his seat, stretching his arms over his head. “I wonder what it would be like to start a new life on an island away from everything you've ever known?”
“I think we're about to find out.”
Robert chuckled. “I guess you're right. Living in the Alaskan wilderness is kind of like that.”
The theater lights blinked as Adam returned to his seat. “Looks like I made it just in time.” The room went dark. Lights settled on the screen, and a glossy floor appeared with two pairs of dancing feet, a man's and a woman's. The scene dissolved into a shot of a black top hat.
The movie ended with Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers happily dancing off into their future. Laurel wished that one day she'd find that kind of love.
She considered her parents. They'd always said they loved each other, but Laurel had rarely seen passion between them. They were almost always kind to each other and embraced often, but they shared very few kisses, in public anyway. She remembered how her mother's eyes turned warm when she looked at Will and her father's often shined with admiration for Jean. They are devoted. That's what I want.
“So, what do you say to a soda?” Adam asked, taking Laurel by the elbow and escorting her up the aisle.
Robert followed. “Do you know a place?” he asked, his voice tight and prickly as he took long strides to catch up.
“Well, I was out and about early this morning, and there's a soda shop not far from here.” Adam looked over his shoulder at Robert. “What do you say?”
“I guess it's up to Laurel.” Robert sounded surly.
Both men looked at her. The tension had returned, and Laurel wished she were somewhere else.
“Well,” Adam pressed.
Mentally she calculated how much money she had. “I guess, if that's what you want.”
“Great,” Adam said, picking up the pace.
With Robert on one side and Adam on the other, Laurel was escorted into the brightly lit theater lobby, then out double doors into cool evening air. The rain had stopped.
“It's this way,” Adam said as he turned right, careful to keep his hand on Laurel's elbow.
Laurel would have preferred he not touch her. His hand felt possessive. He seemed awfully bold for a man she'd met only six days ago. Still, there was something captivating about Adam.
Another group of people moved past, forcing Robert to stop, step aside, and wait. Adam kept walking. He talked about the city and what he'd seen that morning when he'd been out. Laurel slowed her pace, hoping to give Robert time to catch up.
“Here we are,” Adam said, stopping in front of a small soda shop. He opened the door and stepped aside. “After you.”
Laurel walked inside. A long bar stretched across one wall. A man behind the counter glanced up and nodded, then returned to washing tall drinking glasses.
“Do you want to sit at the bar or at a table?” Adam asked, looking at a cluster of tables on the opposite end of the room.
“The bar,” Laurel said, crossing to a stool and sitting. Adam sat on one side and Robert on the other. She turned to one, then to the other. “It's a good thing this chair swivels,” she quipped.
“I'm buying,” Robert told Laurel. “Anything you want.”
Laurel considered telling him she could pay but knew it would hurt his pride, so she said, “Thank you.” Drumming her fingertips on the counter, she searched for something inexpensive. “Hmm. There are so many choices. I guess I'll have a root beer.”
Robert placed exact change in front of him. “A root beer, please, and a Coca-Cola.”
Adam set a dollar bill on the counter. “Let me cover it. It's on the company.”
“No. I'll take care of ours,” Robert said evenly.
Adam shrugged. He studied the menu. “I'm in the mood for something special. I think I'll have a banana split.”
After the drinks and dessert were served, the three mismatched companions fell silent. Finally Adam took out his pad and pencil. “I haven't gotten your story yet, Robert. How did you end up with the colonists?”
Laurel stared at his pencil, then asked, “Can't you think about anything else?”
