Past, Present And A Future. Janice Carter

impulsive and last-minute decision on my part. I’m not as organized about these things as Laura is.”

      “So who is he? Is he coming to dinner tomorrow night?”

      “I’ve asked him, but he wasn’t sure. He…uh, said he would pop around tonight though.”

      “And his name—?” Clare smiled wishing Dave would get to the point.

      As if on cue, the doorbell rang, setting Emma into a wail. Dave jumped up and headed for the front hall while Laura walked back and forth, patting Emma on the back. Clare heard the low rumble of male voices.

      Dave came back into the room an anxious expression on his face. Behind him stood the last person on earth Clare wanted to see in Twin Falls.

      CHAPTER TWO

      THE SAME, yet different. That much registered for Clare in the next five seconds as she stared at Gil Harper.

      He had already reached his growth potential of six-two seventeen years ago, but he’d been almost eighteen then—lanky and loose-limbed in scruffy Levis and bulky sweatshirts. This Gil with his broader shoulders, wearing pressed jeans, a denim shirt and a black leather jacket, looked like a candidate for GQ’s Man of the Year award.

      His charcoal-gray eyes stayed on Clare a moment longer before turning their gaze to Laura who was hovering at his left with Emma. He murmured a greeting and peered down at the baby in her arms. “This is the famous Emma, I presume.” He gave the baby a tentative smile, but his attention quickly shifted back to Clare. She rose unsteadily from the armchair.

      “Hello, Gil.”

      “Clare,” he said with a formal nod. “You’ve changed as much as the rest of us, I see. Your hair’s shorter.”

      “It’s been a while,” she said, wondering if her voice sounded as peculiar to everyone else as it did to her at that moment.

      “Would you like a brandy, Gil? Clare?” Dave asked.

      “I…uh, really can’t stay long,” Gil said.

      “I’ll have one,” Clare said. A large one.

      “Glass of milk for me, please,” said Laura. “Surely you can stay long enough for a drink, Gil? At least until we go over the plans for Sunday.”

      He shrugged. “Okay, then.”

      Dave gestured to the couch, next to Clare’s chair. “Have a seat, Gil. I’m sure you and Clare have a bit of catching up to do. Laura, want to help me in the kitchen?”

      Laura took the hint and, with the baby, followed Dave from the room. Clare remained standing until she accepted the fact that she hadn’t fallen asleep after dinner and awakened in a bad dream. Gil Harper wasn’t going to vanish before her eyes no matter how much she wished he would. She sat on the edge of the chair, ready to bolt if necessary.

      He loomed in front of her a fraction longer before sitting on the couch. She watched him from the corner of her eye, noting from the rigid way he perched that he was just as uncomfortable as she was.

      “I assume this has caught you by surprise, too,” she said.

      “Definitely. As a matter of fact, I was asked to be godfather at two o’clock this afternoon when I met Dave on Main Street.”

      “Same old Dave.”

      “Apparently.”

      He shifted on the couch turning toward her. “Congratulations on your new book.”

      “Thank you.”

      “I just finished it. Very…gripping,” he said, after a slight pause.

      “You bought a copy?”

      “Of course. I have your first one, too—Frankie and Me. I liked it very much. You always had promise as a writer.”

      “Inspired by English class with Miss Stuart.”

      He smiled for the first time. “Yes. I wonder if she’s still teaching.”

      “Hmmm.” Clare wished Dave and Laura would return so they could make plans for Sunday and she could leave.

      “I hope you understand that I had no idea you were even in Twin Falls,” he went on. “I just got here myself a couple of days ago to clear out my dad’s house.”

      “Has your father moved into a retirement home?”

      “No, he…uh, he died of a stroke about three weeks ago.”

      “Oh, I’m so sorry, Gil. And your mother?”

      “Heart attack, five years ago. How about your folks?”

      “Mom’s in New Jersey with her second husband. Dad’s still in California with his second or third wife. Can’t recall which.”

      “Your mother remarried? Good for her.”

      Clare thought back to the day four years ago when her mother called to announce her upcoming marriage to someone she’d met only a year before. She’d been surprised at the news and at first, had tried to persuade her mother to simply move in with the man.

      “I’m still an old-fashioned woman, Clare,” her mother had said. “And this is the time of my life when I need companionship more than ever. Besides, the fact is, I love Hank.”

      Love. One thing to write about, quite another to experience. Clare sneaked a sideways glance at the person she’d once thought she loved. His hands—once so familiar—rested on his knees. She didn’t see a wedding ring.

      As if reading her mind, he suddenly asked, “What about you, Clare? Are you married or engaged?”

      She felt her face redden. “No.”

      He nodded and conversation skidded to a halt. Clare was about to excuse herself to find Laura when Dave came back into the room with a tray of drinks.

      “Sorry to take so long, but Laura wanted to get Emma to sleep. She’ll join us in a minute or so.” He passed large brandy snifters to Clare and Gil and, taking one for himself, sat opposite them in a wing chair. “Cheers!” he said, raising his snifter. “To old friends.”

      Clare and Gil raised their glasses, though neither echoed his toast.

      Dave cleared his throat. “So, Clare, what time is your book signing tomorrow?”

      “Ten o’clock.”

      “You’re having a signing? Where?” Gil asked.

      “There’s a new bookstore in town—at least, new to me. Called Novel Idea.”

      “It’s been here a couple of years, I think,” Dave said. “It’s on Spruce Street, near Main.”

      “I’ll have to drop by.”

      Great, Clare thought. Let’s get right into the whole horrible reunion thing.

      “We’re not sure if we can go,” Dave said. “We still have a lot of running around to do for the christening luncheon on Sunday. And speaking of the christening, there’s not a lot you two have to do. It’ll be at the Methodist church, still in the same place—” he gave a slight laugh “—at eleven. We’ll save seats for you at the front. There’s another christening that morning, too, so the church may be crowded. Basically all you have to do is follow the pastor’s instructions. One of you will hold Emma for the blessing. Then we’ll have family and friends come back here for a buffet lunch. There won’t be too many people.”

      “Sounds good,” Gil said, standing up and setting his empty glass on the coffee table. “So I’ll see you on Sunday morning.”

      “Are you leaving?” Dave got to his feet, his brow creasing.

      “I should. Still have some packing up to do before the cleaners come in tomorrow.”