reached for her hands—“are not the hands of a gardener. No calluses. No chipped nails, other than the ones you got fighting with the gypsophila out at Ms. Evelyn’s.”
He held her hands for the briefest moment before letting them drop. They walked the rest of the way to the pond in amicable silence.
At their approach to the bridge, the ducks sang out and hurried up the ridge, begging hopefully.
“Nothing this time, pals.” He displayed empty hands.
“This has been nice, Quentin, thank you. It was just exactly what I needed today.”
“Then I’m glad we ran into each other. I’m happy to have been in the right place at the right time.” He paused, then gently touched her elbow. “Listen, Athen, maybe I could call you sometime, maybe we could have dinner …?”
“I don’t know … if I’m …” The words “I’m ready” got stuck in her throat.
“I understand.” He nodded. “But we could be friends. I would like to think of myself as your friend.”
“I think I’d like that.” She started across the bridge, then turned back and asked, “Quentin, if someone you cared about wanted you to do something you weren’t sure you wanted to do, but they really insisted, what would you do?”
He thought for a long minute.
“I guess I’d have to ask myself: What’s in it for me? And: What’s in it for them?”
What’s in it for me, she silently repeated. What’s in it for Rossi …?
She wished she knew.
QUENTIN STOOD ON THE BRIDGE and watched Athen wheel her bike toward Woodside Manor’s main building. When she came to a stop at the end of the path that led to the front door, she got off the bike and looked around momentarily before rolling it to a spot near the door. She put the kickstand down and left the bike there, disappearing into the building.
Was she really going to leave that shiny new, pricy little model right there, without a lock, for anyone to walk off with?
Lacking the faith in their fellow man that Athen apparently had, Quentin came back down the path and sat on the back of one of the park benches, where he had a clear view of the front door and the bike. He watched for a few minutes, wondering if it had even occurred to her that the bikemight not be there when she came back out. Could she really be that trusting? That naïve?
He thought perhaps she might be.
There was something about her that drew him beyond the obvious, that she was very beautiful. He’d often heard people describe a woman as being “as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside,” but it was an expression he personally had never used. He tried to remember if he’d ever met a woman to whom the expression might apply but couldn’t bring one readily to mind. Not in this lifetime, anyway. Cynthia had been beautiful on the outside, but inside she was self-centered and self-absorbed. He’d really believed that once Timmy was born, she’d find that the universe had shifted, and that she was no longer at the center of it. Unfortunately, that never happened. If anything, becoming a mother had only reinforced her conviction that no one’s happiness was more important than her own. When Tim was two, she handed him off to Quentin and promptly went back to the job she’d reluctantly left behind when Tim was born, determined to resume her climb to the top of her field. It took several years, but she did in fact become the superstar she’d always believed she should be. Last year, she was offered her dream job. If accepting it meant that her husband and her son would have to fend for themselves, well, they’d just have to buck up. By then the marriage had long since died. The divorce was merely a formality. He’d gottenpast the pain she’d caused him, but he’d never forgive her for the pain she’d caused Tim.
It was nice to meet a woman who loved her child and honored her family ties. As far as Quentin was concerned, Cynthia had done neither.
The door of the building opened and Athen came
He held her hands for the briefest moment before letting them drop. They walked the rest of the way to the pond in amicable silence.
At their approach to the bridge, the ducks sang out and hurried up the ridge, begging hopefully.
“Nothing this time, pals.” He displayed empty hands.
“This has been nice, Quentin, thank you. It was just exactly what I needed today.”
“Then I’m glad we ran into each other. I’m happy to have been in the right place at the right time.” He paused, then gently touched her elbow. “Listen, Athen, maybe I could call you sometime, maybe we could have dinner …?”
“I don’t know … if I’m …” The words “I’m ready” got stuck in her throat.
“I understand.” He nodded. “But we could be friends. I would like to think of myself as your friend.”
“I think I’d like that.” She started across the bridge, then turned back and asked, “Quentin, if someone you cared about wanted you to do something you weren’t sure you wanted to do, but they really insisted, what would you do?”
He thought for a long minute.
“I guess I’d have to ask myself: What’s in it for me? And: What’s in it for them?”
What’s in it for me, she silently repeated. What’s in it for Rossi …?
She wished she knew.
QUENTIN STOOD ON THE BRIDGE and watched Athen wheel her bike toward Woodside Manor’s main building. When she came to a stop at the end of the path that led to the front door, she got off the bike and looked around momentarily before rolling it to a spot near the door. She put the kickstand down and left the bike there, disappearing into the building.
Was she really going to leave that shiny new, pricy little model right there, without a lock, for anyone to walk off with?
Lacking the faith in their fellow man that Athen apparently had, Quentin came back down the path and sat on the back of one of the park benches, where he had a clear view of the front door and the bike. He watched for a few minutes, wondering if it had even occurred to her that the bikemight not be there when she came back out. Could she really be that trusting? That naïve?
He thought perhaps she might be.
There was something about her that drew him beyond the obvious, that she was very beautiful. He’d often heard people describe a woman as being “as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside,” but it was an expression he personally had never used. He tried to remember if he’d ever met a woman to whom the expression might apply but couldn’t bring one readily to mind. Not in this lifetime, anyway. Cynthia had been beautiful on the outside, but inside she was self-centered and self-absorbed. He’d really believed that once Timmy was born, she’d find that the universe had shifted, and that she was no longer at the center of it. Unfortunately, that never happened. If anything, becoming a mother had only reinforced her conviction that no one’s happiness was more important than her own. When Tim was two, she handed him off to Quentin and promptly went back to the job she’d reluctantly left behind when Tim was born, determined to resume her climb to the top of her field. It took several years, but she did in fact become the superstar she’d always believed she should be. Last year, she was offered her dream job. If accepting it meant that her husband and her son would have to fend for themselves, well, they’d just have to buck up. By then the marriage had long since died. The divorce was merely a formality. He’d gottenpast the pain she’d caused him, but he’d never forgive her for the pain she’d caused Tim.
It was nice to meet a woman who loved her child and honored her family ties. As far as Quentin was concerned, Cynthia had done neither.
The door of the building opened and Athen came
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