Summer arrived at her gate and walked over to the window. James could see her plane and knew it wouldn’t be more than a few moments before the boarding call was announced.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He rested his hands on her shoulders and closed his eyes.
“Me, too.”
He frowned. She’d done nothing wrong. “For what?”
“Oh, James,” she whispered brokenly, slipping her arms around his waist. “I’m going to be so lost without you.”
“It’s going to be hard.” He wasn’t willing to pretend otherwise. “I’ll phone as often as I can.”
“Do you have my work schedule?” she asked.
“Yes. Do you have everything you need?” They’d gone over the details a dozen times.
“No. I need you, James.”
His hold on her tightened. He wondered if they were afraid they’d lose the magic. Afraid that once they returned to their respective lives, everything would change.
Her flight number was announced, and James tensed. It wouldn’t be long before he saw her, he promised himself. He’d try for a week, two at the most. A few minutes later her row was called.
“That’s you,” he said reluctantly.
“I know.”
But neither of them made a move to break apart.
Summer was the last one to board the plane, and James had to tear through the airport in order to catch his own flight. If anyone had suggested even ten days ago that the dignified James Wilkens would race through an airport so he could spend a few extra minutes with a woman, he would have scoffed. He wasn’t scoffing now.
He arrived in the nick of time and collapsed into his seat, his heart racing.
Between dashing through airports and hours spent making love, Summer would be the death of him yet. He smiled as he snapped his seat belt into place. If he was to die that very moment, he’d leave this earth a happy man.
James’s house had never seemed so empty. By the time he got home, it was dark and shadowy. His first mistake had been stopping at the office on his way back from the airport. After he arrived in Seattle, he’d spent what remained of the day working through the memos, briefs and case histories. No one else was in, so he was able to accomplish quite a bit, catching up on some of his backlog. He’d do anything he had to so he could arrange time away as soon as possible.
Summer was never far from his thoughts.
Once he reached his house, suitcase in hand, he was exhausted. He switched on the light in the kitchen, put down his bags and set his briefcase on the walnut table in the breakfast nook.
He hadn’t eaten since that morning, and a look inside the refrigerator reminded him he’d been away all week. He’d need to order out or microwave something from the freezer.
Deciding against both, he heated a can of soup, ate, then showered. He’d showered that morning, but Summer had been in the stall with him and neither one had seemed particularly concerned about washing.
James stood in front of the mirror in the steamy bathroom and wiped off some of the condensation, then stared at his reflection. He didn’t look all that different from the man he’d been a week ago. But he was different.
Unable to delay talking to Summer, he dressed quickly and headed for his book-lined den.
Having memorized her apartment and cell phone numbers, James called her at home.
Summer answered on the first ring. “Hello.”
“Hello, darling.”
“James!”
“I would’ve called sooner, but I went to the office. I needed to clear off my desk.”
“Did you check your calendar?”
“First thing. I can fly down on a Saturday morning in two weeks, but I’ll need to be back Sunday afternoon. That doesn’t give us much time.”
“No,” she agreed, “but we’ll make the most of it.” Her relief was evident. “I was afraid once you looked at your schedule you’d find it impossible to get away.”
“I don’t care what it takes, I’ll be in California in two weeks.”
“Wonderful. I traded weekends with a friend so I can come to you in February. My mother’s already started to plan the wedding. She’s left a message with the secretary at the Moose Hall. It’s a very nice building.”
“Your mother’s enjoying every minute of this, isn’t she?”
Summer laughed. “Yes. But the one who surprises me most is my dad. I don’t know what you said or did, but my dad thinks you walk on water.”
It was his turn to laugh.
Then they were both silent. They’d spent nearly every minute of the previous week together. They’d discussed everything there was to discuss. Yet neither was willing to break the connection.
An hour later they were still on the phone. They hadn’t spoken more than a few words between whispered promises and deep sighs. They’d shared a few secrets and memories, some of them very private. Very intimate…
In their next conversation, he’d let Summer know he couldn’t handle much more of that.
“I’ve gotten together with a group of businessmen and spread the word,” Ralph Southworth was saying.
James sat in his office, gazing into the distance. As always, his thoughts were fifteen hundred miles to the south with Summer. He barely heard his campaign manager. In eight days he’d be with his wife. The last six had been the purest form of torture.
He lived for the times he could phone her. Because she performed in the last show of the night, he couldn’t reach her until after ten, and more often than not they spoke until past midnight.