A gate in the fence swung open and a male face looked out inquiringly. "Ah, it’s you, Kerry. I thought the fence had been clipped by a car roaring down the alley too fast."
Hal Gordon was a neighbor she knew casually from the times her running intersected with his dog walking. "I didn’t hit it that hard, Hal!" She tried not to gasp like a beached whale. "I just decided to rest in the shade before going home."
"If you say so." He surveyed her panting form. "You look wiped. Want to come in and have some iced tea while you recover?"
She hesitated, torn. A pile of financial statements waited to be read at home, but with her boyfriend Troy away until tomorrow, the weekend would be quiet. It would be nice to chat with an actual human being for a few minutes. "That would be super."
Hal held the gate open for her. Dressed in casual khaki shorts and a blue polo shirt, he had wavy brown hair and gray eyes. Average height, average build, pleasant looking in an unobtrusive way. Not at all like Troy—but his back yard was Shangri-La.
"Awesome," she breathed as she stepped inside, her gaze sweeping over masses of flowers and shrubs, the shaded patio, and a miniature waterfall that tinkled musically in one corner. "I’ve been running down this alley for two years, and I had no idea what lurked behind your fence."
Ice cubes rattled as he poured tea from an insulated pitcher. "I bought this house for the landscaping, and I keep adding to it." He gestured for her to take one of the two shaded loungers, then stretched out on the other.
She sat sideways, feet on the ground and elbows resting on her knees as she recovered from her run. Hal’s basset hound, Bilbo Baggins, lay on his back in front of her, crooked legs in the air. She scratched the dog’s stomach. "This hound is as close to comatose as any animal I’ve ever seen."
"Sloth is his middle name. Isn’t he a great role model?"
"Not for my business." She swigged gratefully at the iced tea. "You’d never make it in corporate America, Bilbo."
The dog opened his eyes, yawned, then went back to sleep.
"As I said, he’s a fine role model," Hal said fondly.
"He is the essence of basset hound." She sighed. "I hate to admit that even though we’ve lived on the same block for two years, I don’t know what you do." If Hal hadn’t been the friendly sort who’d introduced himself when she moved in, she wouldn’t even have known his name.
"I teach high school science."
"I’m a teacher." Mentally she pulled herself back. "Or rather, I used to be."
"You didn’t like teaching? It’s not for everyone."
She stared down at her drink. "Actually, I really kind of liked it. The kids were a lot of fun, and I loved seeing them light up when an exciting new idea struck."
"Why did you quit?"
"I got tired of the lousy money." She shrugged uncomfortably. "And even more tired of all the people who said, ‘You graduated from Johns Hopkins with honors, and you teach in a public school?’"
"I hear that, too. So I ask who they’d rather have teaching their children—smart people who love teaching, or those who teach because they can’t do anything else?"
"Great answer. I wish I’d thought of it." Instead, she’d felt as if she was wasting her abilities. "Being a broker is pretty cool, though. Lots of challenges. Really keeps the adrenaline pumping."
"Is that why you run—to work off tension after a day of work?"
"Partly that, but more to keep in shape." Most of all, she thought, because Troy would be disappointed if she let herself go. Disappointed? He’d be horrified.
Hal settled more deeply into the lounger, a portrait in relaxation. "You and I had opposite career arcs. I started out on Wall Street, then became a teacher."
She blinked. "Why?"
"Because I like doing something that matters. Not to mention having the summers off."
"I miss that." She thought wistfully about the summer she’d spent hostelling around Europe, the time she’d worked on an Indian reservation in South Dakota, her cross country drive from Baltimore to Alaska and back. Low budget vacations, but fun.
Of course, now she could afford things like the luxury Panama Canal cruise she and Troy had taken this past January. The cruise had cost more than those three summer holidays put together. She’d loved watching porpoises and catching up on her reading, though Troy had twitched at being cut off from his e-mail. It had been the first vacation she’d taken that was more than four days long since she started working as a broker.
Reminded of how much needed to be done, she got to her feet with a sigh. "Sorry to drink and run, but I need to get moving."
"You do move a lot." He eyed her thoughtfully. "There’s a middle range between being unfit and having such a hard body that bullets bounce off it."
She grinned. "Haven’t you ever heard that you can never be too thin or too rich?"
"Yes, but I don’t believe it. Too much money and it starts owning you. I saw a lot of that on Wall Street. And too thin is... too thin." He stood and escorted her to the back gate. "Today feels like a Turkish bath. Perfect for tubing down the Little Gunpowder River. Have you ever done that?"
Her brow furrowed. "What’s tubing?"
"Floating down a shady river on truck tire inner tubes, drinking beer and watching the world go by. Want to give it a try?"
She shook her head with regret. "I’ve got a ton of work to do at home."
"Special project?"
"No, just the routine research that has to be done to stay on top of the ever-changing markets. Keeping an edge isn’t easy."
"Even God took a day off after a hard week’s work. Sure you can’t manage an afternoon?"
Her mental image of stacked files was overpowered by seductive thoughts of drifting along a cool, woodland waterway. What the heck, she had the rest of the weekend to catch up. "I’d love to. What’s the drill?"
"Put on your swimsuit while I collect the tubes. We’ll both have to drive so we can leave one car at the bottom of the route and the other at the top. I’ll come by your house in fifteen minutes."
"It’s a deal." Feeling wicked, she jogged down to her house. Apart from an oak and a dying dogwood, her yard contained nothing but grass. When she bought the place she’d planned on doing some gardening, but the job that enabled her to buy a handsome townhouse in a good neighborhood had left her without enough time to work on it. She’d had to hire a cleaning lady for the house and a neighborhood kid to mow the lawn.
Swiftly she changed into her swimsuit, and discovered it felt loose on her. Though she’d loved losing weight with all her running, the image in her mirror looked more like a fourteen-year-old boy than a grown woman. Maybe it was possible to be too thin or too rich.
By the time she’d changed, pulled on a terrycloth cover-up, and stuffed some towels in a bag, Hal had arrived in a Subaru Outback with inflated inner tubes stuffed into the back. She climbed into her BMW and followed him north into the green farmland of Baltimore County.
When she joined Hal for the drive to their embarkation point, a rough tongue rasped her elbow as she fastened her seat belt. She almost jumped out of her skin. "Good grief, what is Bilbo doing behind the front seats?"
"He never misses a tubing trip."
She eyed him uneasily. Hal really was a bit odd. But he didn’t look weird. He looked... nice. Relaxed. Content. How many people did she know who looked content?
After they parked in a small lot, Hal pulled out two bouncy inner tubes and handed them to her. Taking two more for himself, along with a waterproof tote bag, he led the way across a wide, crushed stone bike and hike trail. "The trail is built along the old North Central Railroad right of way. It follows the Little Gunpowder River."
They halted for a young family on bicycles, each parent carrying a small child in a seat behind. A white haired couple strolled along hand in hand, while four young male runners pounded by wearing tee shirts from a local high school. How many years had she lived in Baltimore without visiting this trail? Ten.
When th
ey reached the narrow, tree-lined river, Hal set his two tubes on the water. Both had nets stretched across the open center. "This is all very ritualistic. First, the beer goes into the supply tube." He pulled a six pack from the tote bag and set it into one net. The bottles sank into the cool water until only the necks were visible.
"Next, the dog." He scooped up Bilbo and set him on the net spanning the second inner tube. The basset subsided happily, hindquarters in the water, front half draped over the tube and tongue lolling.
"And now us." Hal pulled two floppy hats from the tote bag and handed one to her, then tossed his shirt, her cover-up, and their sandals into the waterproof tote, which was added to the supply tube.
As he settled into one of the other inner tubes, hat pulled low over his eyes, she noticed that he was in pretty good shape for a guy who didn’t seem to work that hard. She liked that he didn’t shave his chest to show off his carefully sculpted muscles, the way Troy did. Hal looked... real. Huggable.
Startled by the thought, she lowered herself onto her tube, squeaking when her rear end hit the water. "This river is cold!"
He chuckled. "That’s the point."
After Hal tethered the supplies and Bilbo to his own tube, they pushed into the current. Kerry found a comfortable position, feet trailing in the water and hat tilted over her eyes. Experimentally she paddled with her hands, turning the tube this way and that as she drifted downstream a yard or two from Hal. "This is fun."
"Don’t sound so surprised. It’s supposed to be." Hal pulled a bottle from the supply tube and twisted off the cap, stretching his arm over the water to offer it to her. "Have a beer."
She wasn’t much of a beer drinker, so she sipped cautiously. To her delight, it was a gourmet brand of ginger beer rather than the alcoholic kind. Good stuff, too.
Dropping the caps into an outside pocket of the tote bag, Hal opened a bottle of his own. "This is a great way to travel, isn’t it? Look at those dragonflies."
Near the bank, elegant, elongated insects darted across the water. Kerry caught her breath at the jewel-like shimmer of their iridescent wings. "How lovely!"
"Order Ordonata. There are people who watch dragonflies like other people watch birds." Hal’s gaze followed a kingfisher as it swooped over the surface of the river, wings beating. "My grandfather always said that anything faster than walking was too fast for a man to see the world properly."
"He had a point." They floated under a bridge. A child on the hiking trail waved at Jenny, so she waved back. A squirrel peered down from a branch, scolded fussily, then darted off, followed by Bilbo’s longing gaze. "Since you’re a science teacher, tell me about the birds and the bees."
When he cocked an eye at her, she blushed. "Not those birds and bees! I mean the ones around us. Wildlife."
So he did. For two lazy hours, he described the private lives of the flora and fauna they passed, pointing out details she’d never noticed before. The conversation drifted to other topics as well. Her childhood as an air force brat, the fondness she’d developed for Baltimore while attending Johns Hopkins University, because the city had a solid sense of roots and tradition that appealed to her.
She also learned about Hal, who’d been born and raised in Baltimore, then gone off to school at Columbia University, moving to Wall Street after graduation. Though she still thought it was bizarre that he’d walked away from the big-time and returned to his hometown to teach, he seemed happy with his decision.
By the time they climbed out of the river, she was experiencing the excitement that came from making a new friend. A buddy she could talk and joke with. Her college friends had all moved away, and none of her office friendships went beyond business. Except for Troy, of course.
As she slid on her sandals, she said thoughtfully, "I think we know more about each other after two hours of tubing than my boyfriend and I have learned about each other in two years of dating."
"He isn’t much of a talker?"
She dodged as Bilbo shook himself, flinging water in all directions. "No, Troy talks just fine. We just don’t discuss personal things that much."
Their first date had been when he’d asked her to join him at the downtown gym he frequented. Dazzled by his blond looks, great body, and obvious interest in her, she’d joined the gym on the spot. Troy helped her devise a training regimen. He knew as much about nutrition and exercise physiology as he did about the stock market.
But he didn’t know she’d been an air force brat.
Since the tubes wouldn’t fit in Kerry’s Beemer, they stashed them under a tree and drove north to Hal’s car. As he and Bilbo climbed from Kerry’s towel-covered leather upholstery, she said, "Thanks for inviting me, Hal. I can’t remember when I’ve had so much fun."
"Neither can I." He rested one hand on the roof of her car, his intent gaze on her face. "No need to call it a day. Why not come to dinner? I’ll throw something on the grill and we can eat in the backyard."
"I’m not used to all this fresh air," she said semi-seriously. "It may not be good for me."
He smiled. "It’s good for you. You radiate good health and well-being."
His expression sent warmth curling through her. Not that she felt he was putting the make on her. Just that he liked her and the way she looked.
She remembered the work waiting at home, and her shoulders instantly knotted. She hadn’t recognized that she was relaxed until she wasn’t any more. "I’ve goofed off all afternoon, which means working this evening."
"You have to eat."
She weighed a cold, lonely salad against the prospect of a real meal with good company. What the heck, Troy was playing in a country club tennis tournament and probably wouldn’t be home until late the next day. If she buckled down in the morning, she could get through her work before Troy returned. "You’ve convinced me. I’ll come over about six, and I’ll bring wine and dessert. Red or white?"
"Red. See you later." With a smile that lingered in her memory, Hal closed her door and climbed into his wagon.
As she turned her car, she wondered uneasily if she should feel guilty about enjoying another man’s company while Troy was away. But Hal was just a neighbor. A new friend who knew about the birds and the bees.
She smiled all the way home.
* * *
Hal might only be a neighbor, but Kerry found herself taking extra care as she dressed for dinner. Her cream-colored cotton shift was simple but elegant, and it made her sun-touched complexion glow with color.
As she brushed her dark hair loose over her shoulders, she thought of Troy with a twinge of uneasiness. She was looking forward to dinner with Hal entirely too much. What if Troy called later in the evening and she wasn’t in?
She had nothing to hide. To prove it, she called his condo and left a message saying that a neighbor just down the block was grilling tonight, so she was going there for a bite to eat, and how was the tournament going?
After hanging up, it occurred to her that her message sounded more like a family party than dinner with an eligible male. A very appealing eligible male, she realized when she let herself into his yard and Hal turned to her with a smile. She’d noticed before that friends became more and more attractive as she knew them longer.
Hal gave a soft whistle. "You look absolutely stunning."
Her throat constricted. "This isn’t a date. I have a boyfriend."
"I know, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be stunning."
Relieved, she handed him the wine and went into the house to refrigerate the fresh raspberry tarts she’d bought for dessert. She liked the way he’d decorated his house with an eclectic blend of furniture, rugs, and artwork. It was unique, like Hal.
When she returned to the patio, CDs were playing quietly on a boom box, wafting Vivaldi across the garden. Over delectable grilled filet mignon and vegetables, they talked about everything and nothing. Hal made her laugh. Better yet, he laughed at her jokes and made her feel witty.
A little hazy with merl
ot, she said dreamily, "I haven’t wasted so much time since I started broker training. I feel guilty, but nowhere near as guilty as I should."
"Why feel guilty at all?" he asked. "Remember that no one ever said on his deathbed that he wished he’d spent more time at the office."
Startled, she set her wine glass down and stared at him. "That’s... subversive. Un-American. What about the Puritan work ethic? What about getting ahead?"
"Ahead to where?" Hal scratched Bilbo’s head, which rested on his knee. "And what will you do when you get there? If you don’t enjoy the journey, why bother taking it?"
The wine must be why she couldn’t come up with a good answer. "You’ve been sent by the devil to tempt me into sloth."
He laughed. "I rather like that thought. We schoolteachers are seldom so glamorous." He crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward, his voice low and smoky. "But it’s impossible to tempt the pure of heart. On some level, the thought of slowing down and having a life must appeal to you."
She clutched the stem of her wine glass. Her life was full, stimulating, rewarding—but was it a life? When had she and Troy spent this much time just hanging out, enjoying each other’s company? "Being slothful is always appealing. That’s why sloth is one of the seven deadly sins."
"You’re confusing laziness with having a sense of perspective. Running all the time like a gerbil on a wheel isn’t automatically virtuous, and taking time to smell the roses isn’t automatically evil." He stood and extended one hand. "Care to dance?"
The current CD music was fluid and danceable. Wondering if he’d hypnotized her, she rose and took his hand, placing her other on his shoulder.
It was a mistake. Being in his arms did alarming things to her heartbeat, even though he wasn’t clutching her to his body like a life preserver. Darkness had fallen while they ate, and the handful of patio lamps cast a soft, romantic light over the garden. Instead of pulling away, she moved closer. He was a convenient height, not so tall she got a crick in her neck looking at him.
"It’s nice to see you when you’re not on the run," Hal said softly. "I’ve watched you ever since you moved in, and you’re just a flash of energy. Running to the office, running home, running to stay in shape. Constant motion, like a beautiful, desperate hummingbird." He brushed a kiss on her lips.