Rooms: A Novel by James L. Rubart Page B

statement from her. Why send him the message with such force?
    Silence stretched to an awkward twenty seconds.
    “Uh, is that a subject you’d like to elaborate on?”
    “Not even the hint of a chance.” Sarah walked over to the far end of the deck and leaned against the railing.
    Micah waited a few seconds before easing over to her. “Listen, dinner won’t be done for another fifteen minutes, how ’bout a tour of the house?”
    She faced him, smiled, and the somber feeling lingering in the air vanished. “I’d love to, but what if we took a little walk on he beach instead?”
    “Sure, tide’s out, great time for a short walk.”
    ||||||||
    The aroma of Cornish game hen and garlic mashed potatoes greeted them as they walked back inside ten minutes later. Pear and walnuts over greens was first, followed by artichokes with melted butter for dipping, angel hair pasta, and the hen. They topped the meal off with banana bread.
    “Impressive,” Sarah said with the hint of a tease.
    “Hey, c’mon now. Maybe I didn’t make the banana bread. Or the pasta. Or the salad. But I melted the butter and got the hen right.”
    “It was a compliment. Seriously. Most guys our age wouldn’t have a clue about putting on a meal like this.”
    “Well, thanks, but really I just got lucky. I haven’t done a lot of cooking, but I’ve been practicing. One of those ‘I’ll do it someday’ things. Being down here is someday, I guess.”
    “And how long are you staying ‘down here’?”
    “That is indeed the $64 million-dollar question.”
    They walked into the great room toward the fireplace. He motioned to the couch, but she chose the floor in front of the river rock so he did the same and built a fire while they talked.
    “I’m working from down here for a while. Seattle is my permanent home, so I go back every couple of weeks to make sure things are running smoothly.”
    Their conversation turned to high school, college, sports they’d played, and favorite movies. They talked for an hour before Micah realized he’d been doing most of the telling.
    “You’re good.” He laid his arm across his chest and bowed his head a little.
    “At what?”
    “Asking questions.”
    Sarah smiled but didn’t comment.
    “I’ve been talking. You have not been talking.”
    “Is that bad?” she said.
    “No, I’d just like to know more about your history. I already know my own.”
    “But then how mysterious would I be?” She grinned.
    Micah watched the flames of the fire shift and dance as he thought about the woman sitting beside him. She was smart and beautiful. Playful. And she was mysterious. Sure of herself but not in a cocky way. She knew who she was with no pretension. During most first dates—yes, he admitted it was a date—he watched women play a role, presenting as perfect a package as possible. He’d done the same.
    Even Julie and he still jockeyed and positioned themselves. For power. For protection. Not this time. Sarah had somehow disarmed him, and he’d told more about himself than he wanted to. She’d told almost nothing about herself. Why the swearing off guys? What happened to her?
    The glow of the fire streaked her walnut hair with lines of gold, and he let himself go to merely enjoy the moment.
    After dessert they walked out onto the deck, and a rare coastal treat greeted them: the stars. Not all. Just a few breaks in the clouds. But enough diamonds on black canvas to be captivating.
    Sarah glanced back to the house. “I can see why he gave you the home. It reminds me of you.”
    “What?”
    She gave him a light smile, as if it were obvious.
    “I’ll admit whoever decorated this place found my style.”
    “It’s more than style. It feels like you.”
    His heart agreed, but his mind wouldn’t accept it. This wasn’t his place. “I don’t know. Maybe. But like I said, this stuff isn’t mine.”
    “You don’t have to own something for it to be you. Haven’t you ever gone into a gallery and seen a