Love at Last. Irene Brand
you were. We don’t have many sleeping accommodations in town, and sometimes I have to recommend a lodging place to college visitors. I’ve made it my business to know what’s available.”
“Then you know what an interesting apartment it is.”
“Interesting, and comfortable, I believe.”
Perry drove a new blue sedan. Remembering the days when he’d used a bicycle for transportation around campus, Lorene was pleased that the years had brought him prosperity.
“What kind of food do you prefer tonight?” he asked as they left Woodston’s city limits. “I’m going across the river to Indiana, where there’s a choice of fine eating places.” His lips curved in an infectious smile. “Always before when we ate out, I couldn’t afford anything except pizza and burgers. I’d like to buy something better for you tonight.”
Was this going to be a night of recalling what they’d once shared? Lorene wondered.
“I still like pizza and burgers,” Lorene assured him, grinning. “But you choose. I enjoy most foods.”
“Then we’ll go to a family restaurant with a wide selection of entrées. Now, tell me about yourself. What have you been up to since we were together? You’re apparently doing all right, since you have your own business.”
“I finished college in New Jersey, and I worked in several PR agencies around the country for a few years. I couldn’t find any town that suited me until I settled in Pittsburgh eight years ago. I went into partnership with an elderly man, and when he retired, I was able to buy the business at a reasonable price.”
“Are your parents well?”
“Yes. They live in Philadelphia, and I don’t see them often. That’s another reason I was disgruntled over having to come to Woodston. Our whole family gets together once a year when we vacation at the same place, and we had reservations in Atlantic City for the next two weeks. I had to cancel.”
“I’m sorry about that. You could have delayed coming to Woodston.”
Lorene shook her head. “That’s business for you. When you’re the boss, you have to be the troubleshooter, too. And it looks like I’ll have to stay in Woodston. I made several phone calls and no one else will be available for a few weeks. I don’t like to be away from the business for such a long period, but I have a reliable office manager.”
Her words both delighted and disturbed Perry. How much togetherness could they experience without being swept headlong into their previous relationship? He struggled with an overwhelming desire to pull her close to him, and he didn’t believe Lorene was insensitive to his presence, either. Her body was tense and her well-formed hands were clenched in her lap. He sensed she was fighting to maintain her composure, but her face was unyielding, as if she had no intention of allowing herself to surrender to the past.
Earlier today, he knew her determination had crumbled in her surprise at seeing him. For a moment she’d been lost in her emotions and her heart had bonded with his as eagerly as it had in their youth. He believed if he’d taken her in his arms then, she wouldn’t have resisted. But she was in control now. With an inward sigh he realized that was just as well. Her willpower would encourage him to stifle yearnings he couldn’t indulge.
“I’m sorry you have to stay when you don’t want to.”
She waved an expressive hand, and her body seemed to relax as they talked of impersonal matters.
“It’s all in a day’s work,” she said, “but I feel as if I’m coming to Woodston in the dark. I picked up that file from Alma as I left your office, but I haven’t looked at it yet. I’ll try to study through it tomorrow.”
The restaurant was located one block from a busy highway. Perry asked for a corner booth, so they were fairly well isolated. Soft music filtered through the room as they ate, muting their conversation from those around them. They spent almost two hours in the restaurant discussing their respective jobs, talking as friends. Lorene didn’t want to open old wounds. Still, she couldn’t help wonder if Perry no longer cared for her.
When they’d finished their dessert, Lorene said, “Since I’ll have to take on the bicentennial project, are we going to admit that we used to know each other?”
Perry lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “Why not? It must have been obvious to Alma that we aren’t strangers.”
Lorene’s fingers traced the pattern of the place mat. Without meeting his gaze, she said, “I need to know what to keep secret and what to say. I don’t want to be an embarrassment to you.”
“Why not say we were college friends and let it go at that?”
“That’s fine with me,” she said with a sinking heart, knowing that she’d long ago forfeited the right to be more than friends. “Seeing you was more than I bargained for when I came to Woodston.”
“Maybe our meeting again is God’s plan for us. Have you considered that?”
“Until I’ve atoned for my past sins, I can’t expect God to be concerned over my welfare.”
Unspoken pain turned Perry’s eyes into inky, unfathomable orbs as he placed his hand over hers. “We don’t have to make restitution for our sins to have God love us. He loved us enough to send Jesus to make atonement for us. God knows our hearts, and He forgave us for making a wrong choice.” He paused, adding reminiscently, with some bitterness, “But it took a long time to forgive myself.”
“Does that mean you’re sorry for—” she hesitated a few seconds “—the months we dated?”
“We might be better off not to discuss what happened years ago, but since you’ve brought it up—you know as well as I do that I enjoyed all of our time together.”
Remembering the outcome of their engagement revived a pain in Lorene’s heart she found hard to bear. Her fingers stirred in his grasp and he released her hand.
“I’ll mention to Mr. Kincaid and Alma that we knew each other in college. We had a lot of good times together, and I don’t see why we can’t be friends. We can’t avoid each other while you’re here.”
Perry’s offer of friendship was rather like offering a starving person a teaspoon of chicken broth. But after she’d deserted him once, without an explanation, she’d relinquished the right to expect anything more.
When they returned to the car, Perry inserted his key in the ignition and started the engine. Memories of the past flashed through his mind, and he sat silently for a couple of minutes before he turned to Lorene.
“I shouldn’t ask this, but I have to know. Why did you just drop me without an explanation? Why didn’t you answer my letters or return my telephone calls?”
A startled gasp escaped her lips and she faced him quickly. She latched on to his second question, and he didn’t seem to notice that she avoided the first one. “What telephone calls? What letters? When did you write to me?”
“I sent a dozen or so letters that summer I was in Mexico. Days would go by when we didn’t have any communication with the outside world, but I mailed you a letter when I could. We went to a town every two or three weeks, and I always telephoned, but I couldn’t contact you. Your parents told me you didn’t want to talk to me, but I kept calling, hoping you’d answer the phone.”
Anger burned so fiercely in Lorene’s heart that her voice sounded harsh and raspy. “I had no idea you’d tried to get in touch with me. That’s why I allowed my father to convince me that you were glad to get rid of me.”
“I should have known,” Perry muttered. Her words cut like a flesh wound. “Your father never did approve of our relationship, but I can’t understand why you wouldn’t have expected me to write and why you didn’t contact me.”
“Our mail was delivered to a post-office box, and Dad always picked it up, so it was easy for them to