Touch the Stars (13 page)

"It's okay if I practice with them, isn't it, Mom?" Sam asked anxiously.

Claire and Paul exchanged a meaningful look.

"It will be all right on the low wire, I guess," Claire said. "As long as Stephen is there to supervise."

Julie stood up abruptly from the table. The return to the Superdome, the determination to go on as if nothing bad had ever happened–it was too much. She gathered several plates and carried them into the kitchen, unwilling to go back into the dining room. On top of everything, she hated to see Sam caught up in this Andrassy madness to get back on the high wire.

"Julie?" It was Claire.

"I'm all right. Don't mind me." The words came out clipped and short. For the lack of anything better to do, she grabbed the coffeepot, carried it into the dining room and moved around the table, pouring everyone more coffee.

"Gee, Nonna, I wish you didn't have to leave so soon. We're going to be here all summer." Tonia hugged her great-grandmother's arm.

"I don't want to leave," Nonna said. "But Julie has to be back at work on Monday."

At that moment Stephen's eyes locked with Julie's, and Julie's hand began to tremble so much that she couldn't pour. She fled into the kitchen, even though Paul's cup could have used a refill. She splashed cold water on her face before sliding back into her seat at the table.

"I do wish you two could stay a bit longer," Paul said to Julie. "Claire's younger son, Eric, is coming home from camp on Sunday. He's a great kid, and I'd like you and Nonna to see him."

"I'm sorry that won't work out," Julie said, cutting into her slice of cake. "Perhaps the boys could come visit Nonna and me in Florida soon." This invitation was greeted with enthusiasm by Sam, who wanted to learn to water ski.

Throughout this exchange, Julie knew that Stephen was looking at her, his expression serious. The one time their eyes met, his probed hers disconcertingly. Why didn't he look somewhere else? Why did he have to stare? Someone would notice; someone would see. She was smothering in a tangle of emotions.

She heard them chattering around her, all the Andrassys, but she didn't know what they said. She saw them, but only peripherally. For Julie, Stephen was the only person at the table, and the others might as well have not been there at all.

In a daze she fancied that she could read his thoughts.
Don't go away,
he was crying out to her.
Stay.
His eyes pleaded, and she couldn't avoid them.

Quickly she stood and pushed her chair back with a clatter.

"I—I believe I'll go and lie down for a while," she stammered to no one in particular. "I think my experience with the tornado yesterday affected me more than I thought."

The family conversation dimmed like the volume turned down on a radio, and then it swelled again as she ran up the stairs. Then she was in the room she shared with Gabrielle and Eva, and she was alone. She shut the door and locked it before throwing herself across the bed.

He was in love with her. Even her limited experience had prepared her to recognize the intense emotion shining from Stephen's eyes. What should she do about it?

It depended on how she felt about him. She turned on her back and stared up at the light fixture on the ceiling. How
did
she feel about Stephen Martinovic-Andrassy?

She felt close to him. She had discovered that she could talk to him about serious personal concerns, and he was understanding, kind, and dealt with her worries in a straightforward, common-sense sort of way. And, after the other night in her car, she knew that she was incredibly aroused by him.

"Julie? Are you all right?" Eva rattled the doorknob.

"I'm okay," Julie said. She went and unlocked the door. "You can come in if you want."

"What is this hiding thing you're doing?"

"It's a headache thing. How could I possibly hide in this house?"

"Want an aspirin? I'll get you one."

"Not right now." Julie lay moodily back down on the bed.

"We're all going for a walk down to the barn. Or at least to where the barn used to be. We want to take a look at it before Paul's workmen start clearing the rubble tomorrow. Do you want to come along?"

Julie shook her head. "Negative. Over and out." She closed her eyes.

"Stephen insisted that I come up and make sure you weren't gasping your last. I'll reassure him, don't worry." Eva whirled around and ran downstairs.

Again, proof that Stephen cared about her, that he loved her. Julie knew she had not mistaken the passionate yearning in his eyes, the sense of deep attraction. Suddenly her spirits soared and she felt euphoric. He loved her! Shouldn't that be cause for happiness?

Her mood fizzled as quickly as it developed. All the safety precautions and reassurances didn't matter because in the end what counted was that Stephen walked a cable high above the ground, and in a split second he could falter, hang for a moment in midair and fall. Death did not walk the high wire; it lurked below. And it didn't go away. It was always there, lying in wait for those who dared to defy it.

Something tightened around her heart, an icy band of pain, and she knew that she had to accept the truth: She could never love this man.

There was no need ever to confront the situation with Stephen. She could maneuver and manipulate their meetings so that they were never alone. She could make sure that they didn't talk privately. She would never give him the chance to speak of love.

It wouldn't be so hard, this avoiding him. After all, she and Nonna would be leaving soon.

* * *

Try as he might, Stephen couldn't get Julie alone. She had slept late for the past two mornings, which was unusual for her. He and the others had already gone to the meadow by the time she got up. At lunchtime on Thursday she simply wasn't there. When he commented casually on her absence, Gabrielle mentioned something about Julie's having errands to run in town.

He planned to ask Julie to go for a walk alone with him after dinner, but she and Eva went off to the movies without asking anyone else to join them. And afterward, Julie and Eva retired early. Stephen had paced up and down the floor of the room where he slept, knowing that time was short.

This day, Friday, Julie went to Michael's home to eat lunch with Lynda and the children. In the evening, she said she had to pack. She disappeared into the room she shared with Gabrielle and Eva at seven-thirty and didn't come out.

She was avoiding him. He realized that now. What had he done? Had he said the wrong thing? He was desperate to establish their special kind of closeness again, if only for an hour. She was going back to Florida the next day. He had no idea when he would see her again.

He heard Julie's cell phone ringing on the table in the hall where she must have left it. Stephen ignored the ring. In this house, someone's phone was always humming or bleeping or dinging.

"Julie?" Claire called up the stairwell. "I hear your phone."

Julie's door flew open, and suddenly Stephen felt a glimmer of hope that he might be able to catch her for a brief moment before she disappeared again. It wouldn't be enough time to tell her all that was in his heart, but it would be a beginning. He didn't think she noticed him sitting in his room on the couch that served as his bed.

"Oh, no," she was saying into the phone, her voice full of anxiety. "That's awful." After a pause she said in bleak resignation, "Well, how long?"

Stephen listened more closely. It was obvious from the expression on Julie's face that this was bad news. He emerged from his room as she hung up.

"Anything wrong?" Stephen asked.

"It's Molly, my best student. She's broken her leg."

"The little gymnast? The one who is so good?"

"She was thrown from a horse. She'll be in a cast for at least three months."

"I'm so sorry."

"I had such high hopes for her next meet. Of course, Molly's devastated, too."

Stephen's heart went out to Julie. She looked so upset.

Nonna beamed from the bottom of the stairwell. "Julie! Think what this means!" Her face was alight with happiness.

"It means I don't have a student to teach. I was planning to devote all my time to Molly this summer while the work load is light. Most of our gymnastics students take the summer months off for camp and vacations with their families."

"Yes, and that's what we will do also!" Nonna clapped her hands like a young girl. "Don't you see, Julie? This means that we don't have to leave tomorrow! We can spend the whole summer right here at the farm."

Chapter 7

Julie managed to stay out of Stephen's way for most of the next week. It wasn't hard, with so many Andrassys around. Eric, Claire's fourteen-year-old son, arrived home from camp, which added to the confusion. With something going on every minute that the cousins weren't practicing on the wire, Stephen had no opportunity to catch Julie alone.

Anyway, he was busy with his own concerns. His phone rang constantly. The television news spot that had been shown on the Atlanta station early in the week generated a lot of interest in the act. Stephen was constantly fielding questions about when they would perform, where they would perform, and whether it was true that they would attempt the famous Andrassy nine-person pyramid.

Nonna was in her element. She taught Tonia to sew, and all the Andrassys were reluctant recipients of calico bags loosely held together with Tonia's giant stitches. Nonna even found an old bag of Eric's marbles, and she could be found kneeling at the edge of a circle inscribed in the dust, tossing around words like "aggie" and "immy." In the evenings Nonna huddled around the kitchen table with Sam and Eric playing Monopoly. Oh, yes, no doubt about it—Nonna was having a wonderful time.

But Julie wasn't. Time hung heavy on her hands. She started one of Eva's novels but couldn't concentrate on it. She visited with Lynda, Michael's adorable redheaded wife, whom she had never really gotten to know before, but twenty minutes of discussion about what color socks to buy Tonia and what to do about Mickey's teasing of his sister bored Julie to distraction.

Thoughts of Stephen sprang from a seemingly inexhaustible wellspring, overwhelming her at the oddest times. It didn't take much to start the images flowing; the tilt of his head when she said something of interest, and the murmur of his voice, which she called to mind with no effort at all. The rich rumble of his laughter, the touch of his hand on her shoulder, the satiny smoothness of his lips. Oh, it all stayed with her, seldom far from her consciousness. She had never been so obsessed with a man before.

Most nights she tossed, burning, beneath the cool white sheets while Eva and Gabrielle slept soundly beside her. They were both worn out from practice every day, but Julie's relatively inactive life didn't provide enough exercise. She was accustomed to working out rigorously alongside her students at the gym.

She needed an exercise program. Why not start the very next morning? She'd begin by running a couple of miles first thing.

* * *

Julie was up at dawn. She yanked on shorts and a shirt, jostling Eva's bed as she bent to tie her shoelaces.

"Wha?" Eva mumbled as she opened one eye to the sight of Julie feverishly bundling her unruly hair into a knot at the back of her head.

"Go back to sleep," Julie whispered before creeping down the dim hall to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

The air was chilly, and she set off at a brisk walk to warm up. By the time Julie reached the driveway, she had hit her stride. She plowed through curling remnants of the morning mist, her spirits lifting.

She ran lightly, easily, feeling the fresh air sweep the cobwebs from her brain. She would run all the way to the road, then continue to the Andrassy Acres subdivision, circling until she came to the meadow where the practice wires were set up. She'd get back to the house just in time for breakfast.

On the old cow path, she rounded a stand of trees. In the distance she saw the high wire and was surprised to see that someone was on it. She slowed to a stop. There was no mistaking the figure on the high wire. It was Stephen.

Why was he out here so early in the morning? She walked several steps, hands on her hips, breathing heavily. As she drew closer, she saw that Stephen was alone. He was totally engrossed in what he was doing, aware of nothing and no one.