Chapter 12
When the girls had gone off after dinner Nell snuck a look at the newspaper ad she had stashed in her copy of Cold Weather Cooking. She no longer had the impression that Eric Manville was trying to say something to her or that he was actually seeing her, and she was glad about that. It had been a silly notion, most likely brought on by the shock of learning that he would be in town in a matter of days.
She had returned the ad to its hiding place and gone to her room to change. She took special care in dressing, though she remembered that Eric had never bothered about clothes and other outward trappings. But that was a long time ago. Fame might have changed him in so many ways. For all she knew he might look at her and see not only a stranger but a poorly dressed one at that, one to whom time had been cruel.
Would he be angry she had shown up at the reading? Or would he be unaffected by her presence? Nell’s stomach was in knots thinking about these questions. If she hadn’t told Jill about her past with Eric, she would back out of the plan to attend the reading. If she cancelled now Jill would call her on her cowardice, and Nell didn’t have the energy for an argument.
At precisely six-thirty Jill pulled up to the house. “You look very spiffy,” she said as Nell slid into the passenger seat of her black Volvo.
“I’m not trying to impress anyone if that’s what you’re implying.”
Jill raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t implying anything. I was sharing my opinion of your spiffiness.”
“Sorry,” Nell said. “Guess I’m a little nervous. In fact I did take care getting dressed tonight.”
“Did the girls notice?”
“Molly is babysitting and Felicity was in her room doing homework when I left. I told them I was going out with you, but neither asked where.”
“Sometimes the self-centeredness of the young can be a blessing,” Jill noted.
A blessing or a curse, Nell thought, remembering that at dinner Felicity hadn’t bothered to ask if her mother had gone to the Christmas fair at St. Pat’s on her own. In fact, Nell had not.
Ten minutes later Jill pulled into the last space available in the lot belonging to the Bookworm. “Looks like a full house tonight,” she commented.
“Here goes nothing,” Nell said under her breath, but not quietly enough to escape Jill’s notice.
“Ditch the negative attitude, Nell,” she advised. “It doesn’t go with your outfit.”
The moment Jill opened the door to the shop they were greeted with the loud and happy noise of a crowd that had come together for a common purpose. There was laughter and excited chatter as people greeted one another and vied for the few remaining seats. “Over here,” Jill shouted, and Nell followed her to the last two empty chairs. Nell realized gratefully that they would be partly hidden from the vantage point of the old wooden podium the Bookworm’s owner, Bruce Lewis, had purchased from the local library when it was being refurbished a few years back.
Jill turned to answer a question posed by the woman seated on her other side, and it was then that Nell saw Eric. He was talking to Bruce Lewis, his hands shoved into the front pockets of his dark jeans. An unbidden smile came to Nell’s lips, and she felt tenderness flood her heart. She remembered that habit. She tried to look at Eric objectively but knew that wasn’t possible. He was just five feet eight inches tall, still as slim and wiry as he had been in college. His cheekbones were sharp; his lips delicately curved; his eyes large and brown. His hair was still wild and loosely curly. Nell had always found his appearance to be highly Romantic. She had always thought that if he were an actor he would be perfect in the role of Percy Bysshe Shelley. Over his dark sweater Eric was wearing a well-worn leather jacket. A long scarf was looped twice around his neck. Eric had always been cold, Nell remembered. Even in the summer he had often worn a sweater, usually a ratty old thing.
Bruce Lewis stepped up to the podium now, and the crowd quieted. He announced Eric with little fanfare, and Eric took his place at the podium. He smiled at the crowd gathered to hear him read, and Nell found that her hands were clasped so tightly together that they hurt.
“You okay?” Jill whispered.
Nell nodded. In fact she was not okay. The moment Eric began to read from his latest novel, Nell found herself transported to her past. Instead of seeing Eric at the wooden podium she saw him on the campus quad, tossing a Frisbee with his friends. She felt his lips meeting hers fiercely, tenderly. She heard his easy and frequent laughter as they strolled around the campus arm in arm, talking about everything and nothing. She watched as her hand caressed his cheek. She—
A sudden burst of applause brought Nell abruptly out of the sort of memory trance into which she had fallen when Eric had begun to read. She realized that she had hardly heard a word, only the sound of his voice, so familiar and yet so sadly alien, as the backdrop of her memories.
“That was wonderful,” Jill said. “Wasn’t it?”
Again, Nell nodded but she felt emotionally drained, utterly depleted, and terribly, terribly sad. I can’t face him, she thought. I just can’t. “Come on,” she whispered to Jill as she rose from her seat. Jill rose, too, and they made their way to the central aisle.
“Nell!”
Nell froze for a second and then slowly turned, realizing that Jill was no longer by her side. She stood absolutely still as Eric approached through the throng. He stopped a few feet from her and smiled. “Imagine my surprise when I saw you in the audience,” he said.
Nell laughed nervously. It was better than bursting into tears. “Imagine my surprise when I saw you’d be here in Yorktide.”
“Mr. Manville!” A man came up to Eric and took his arm. “Could I ask you a question about your first book?”
Eric promised he would answer his question in a moment, and the man released him. He turned again to Nell. “Look,” he said, lowering his voice, “could we meet somewhere privately tomorrow for lunch? I’m staying at the Starfish in Ogunquit.”
“Of course,” Nell said, surprised by his suggestion and amazed at her ability to answer coherently. “The Golden Apple is nice. I’m sure the staff at the Starfish can give you directions. One o’clock?”
Eric smiled and reached into his pocket. “Great. Here’s my card with my contact information. Call me if something comes up and you have to reschedule.” He turned back to the group that had been gathering behind him, and immediately several people began to voice questions and comments.
Carefully Nell put Eric’s card in a small pocket inside her bag for safekeeping and scanned the shop for Jill. She spotted her by the entrance and made her way over.
“You okay?” Jill asked, looking searchingly at Nell.
“I think so.”
Jill smiled. “Well, he certainly didn’t forget you.”
“No,” Nell said. “He didn’t forget.”
“He’s awfully attractive. There’s something magnetic about him.”
“Yes,” Nell said. “Look, I’m ready to go if you are.”
Jill nodded, and the two women went out into the frosty December night. “He wants to see me tomorrow,” Nell blurted. “What do you think that means?”
Jill put her arm through Nell’s. “I think,” she said, “that it could mean anything. Come on. Let’s go home.”