Window on Yesterday (9 page)

Sean adored pizza.

Alycia smiled dreamily and snuggled under the down comforter on her twin-size bed. Sean Halloran, sophisticated, world-traveler historian and author, adored pizza as much as Alycia Matlock, twenty-seven-year-old college student. The thought was infinitely more warming than the lightweight cover.

Sleep was tiptoeing around the edges of Alycia’s consciousness when the phone rang, jarring her awake. Bolting up, she sat staring at the door, her eyebrows pinched in a frown.

Who could be calling at midnight? she wondered, tossing back the comforter. Both Karla and Andrea were sound asleep, Alycia knew, because she had carefully peeked into their rooms before going to her own. Her movements slow and unsure, she slipped from the bed, toes creeping along the carpet until they made contact with her furry mules.

Alycia’s hesitation was revealing; she didn’t like late-night calls. Positive it was a wrong number or, worse, a drunk having some sick fun, she left her room and walked slowly to the kitchen, hoping the caller would tire of waiting and hang up.

Her step quickened when the insistent trill rang for the sixth time. Whoever was at the other end of the line was determined to reach someone.

Suppose it was an emergency! What if something had happened to one of her parents or to a member of Karla’s or Andrea’s family? Having effectively frightened herself, Alycia grasped the receiver and snatched it from the wall cradle.

“Hello?” She held her breath after whispering the word.

“I woke you. I’m sorry.”

Alycia slumped against the wall, the pent-up breath whoosing from her body. “No, Sean, you didn’t wake me.” She laughed shakily. “You merely scared me half to death. I was imagining all kinds of unthinkable disasters.”

“I am sorry but”—he sighed—”I couldn’t sleep.”

“Too much rich food?” Alycia asked sympathetically.

“Too many rich emotions,” Sean replied softly. “I feel as churned up as an ocean being pounded by a hurricane.”

Alycia laughed, she couldn’t help herself. It was late and she was tired, but she was tickled by his turn of phrase. “You’re crazy” she chided him tenderly.

“I’m crazy about you,” Sean returned somberly.

“Sean.” His name whispered achingly through her slightly parted lips.

Sean groaned. “Oh, God, Alycia, I want to hold you ... just hold you.”

Alycia stopped breathing, stopped thinking. Feeling boneless, she slid down the wall until she was sitting on the cold tile floor. She didn’t notice the chill. Closing her eyes, she imagined the thrilling wonder of Sean’s embrace, the excitement, the heat. Suddenly she ached with the longing to have him there, right there on the floor, with her, a part of her. Yearning, yearning, she drew her legs up close to her body and rested her head back against the wall, releasing her need in a long, heartfelt sigh.

“Alycia?”

“Yes, Sean.”

“What are you doing? What are you thinking?”

“I’m sitting on the floor and I’m thinking about you.”

“Isn’t the floor cold?” he asked with immediate concern.

Alycia smiled. “I don’t know.” She felt his sigh to her fur-encased toes. “My imagination’s keeping me warm.”

“What are you imagining?” Sean’s voice was deep, laced with anticipation and excitement. “Tell me, Alycia.”

For the space of a deep, calming breath, Alycia considered prudence then tossed caution aside. “I was imagining being with you, being held by you, the way we were ... was it only yesterday?”

“Does it matter?” The thread of intensity woven through his low tone told her that it was not as simple a query as it appeared to be. While asking, Sean was also trying to tell her how unimportant he felt time to be.

Alycia now understood and accepted his belief. “No, Sean, it doesn’t matter at all.”

“Good.” He expelled the word on a relieved sigh. “I want to see you tomorrow, today, whenever.”

Alycia smiled and curled one finger around a strand of silky hair. “And I want to be with you ... whenever.”

“Would you like to go out or stay in?” He was all business now, brisk and determined.

“Stay in” she replied at once.

“I’ll bring the pizza.” Amusement enriched his voice. “Okay?”

“Bring enough for four.”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?” Sean asked in genuine puzzlement.

“For accepting my friends.”

“I like them, but”—Sean paused to add emphasis to his tone—”I’d accept them even if I didn’t particularly like them, simply because they are your friends.”

“I know.” And suddenly Alycia did know, with utter conviction, that Sean was prepared to accept almost anything, just to be with her. She knew, because she felt exactly the same way about him.

“Good night, sweetheart.”

“Good night”—Alycia’s hesitation was very, very brief—”sweetheart.”

* * * *

The pattern was thus set for the remainder of that week. If Alycia had paused to consider it, which she didn’t, she might have concluded that Sean’s courtship of her was somewhat confined, yet not confining.

They were rarely alone together. Still, they were together, and that was all that really mattered. They laughed often and freely, and their shared laughter was a strong property in the cohesive working to bind them one to the other.

Alycia reached the decision to put her friends into the picture the moment she reached the breakfast table the morning after Sean’s nocturnal call. Displaying her usual concerned curiosity, Andrea gave Alycia the perfect opportunity to explain.

“Did you have a good time with Sean last night?” she asked innocently.

Noticing that Karla was suddenly all ears, Alycia smiled and nodded. “I had a very good time,” she answered, somewhat amazed at the steadiness of her hands as she poured coffee into her cup. “In fact, Sean and I both had such a good time that we decided to do it again this evening.”

“Do it?” Karla arched her delicate eyebrows. “Do what?”

“Karla!” Andrea groaned. “Must you be so nosy?”

“It’s the only way to learn anything,” Karla retorted without bothering to as much as glance at Andrea. “So, what happened?” she demanded, giving Alycia a penetrating look.

“Nothing, and everything,” Alycia murmured, her smile curving softly. “We had dinner. We danced. We talked. I fell in love.” Her dreamy-voiced admission had the impact of a small bomb.

“What!” Karla exclaimed.

“Huh?” Andrea looked stunned.

Alycia sighed. “I said I fell—

“We heard what you said,” Karla cut her off impatiently. “The question is why? How?”

“That’s two questions.”

“Cute.” Karla’s lips puckered into a sour curve.

Ever compassionate, Andrea reached out impulsively to grasp Alycia’s hand. “If you’d rather not talk about it...” she began, falling silent when Alycia shook her head.

“I don’t mind talking about it.” Alycia lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug. “It’s just that there’s really not much to talk about. I can’t explain something I don’t understand myself.” Her expression grew pensive. “As you both know, I certainly didn’t plan on falling in love. Falling in love wasn’t on my list of things to do. But...” Her voice faded and her eyes clouded with a faraway look.

“But you definitely are in love with Sean.” Andrea’s tone held acceptance not question.

“Yes.”

Karla sighed and drawled, “You have my condolences.”

Andrea’s head snapped around, her normally soft expression setting into hard lines. “Karla, that remark was cruel and uncalled for!” Her tone was every bit as hard as her expression.

Alycia stared at her friend in wide-eyed surprise, amazed at her show of fire and strength. “It’s all right, Andrea,” she said soothingly. “I’m sure Karla didn’t mean to sound cruel.”

Shoulders slumping, Karla rose from the table. “I didn’t, not really.” She offered Alycia a smile that begged for forgiveness. “It’s just that... dammit!... love hurts, and we have the scars to prove it.” Tears glistened in her usually very cool eyes. Hesitantly, she extended her hands, catching back a sob when Alycia and Andrea immediately reciprocated. Hands clasped, they stared at one another. “You are my soul sisters, and I love you both, “she said in a tight whisper. “I don’t want to see either of you hurt again, any more than I want to be hurt, but”—she paused to gaze directly at Alycia—”if you truly love Sean, I wish you the best. I only hope he’s good enough for you.”

“Thank you,” Alycia murmured, unmindful of the tears running down her face. “I’ll have to take my chances, I have no choice.”

Andrea sniffed loudly. “Oh, darn it, Karla,” she wailed. “You’ve got us all blubbering like babies, and we’ve got to get to class.”

Karla’s eyes flew wide. “Oh, hell, I’ve got an early appointment!” Releasing her friend’s hands, she managed a watery smile. “I’ll be here for you if either of you ever need me, but now, I’ve got to get out of here.” Spinning around, she dashed for the bathroom.

Alycia and Andrea stared at each other for a moment, then slowly, softly began to laugh.

“She talks tough, but she’s all heart,” Andrea observed.

“Yes.” Alycia wiped the tears from her cheeks. “She’s also right,” she continued, pushing her chair back. “We have got to get moving.”

Working comfortably together, Alycia and Andrea cleared the table and stacked the dishes in the sink. Then the usual morning race against the clock was on.

“By the way,” Alycia said some thirty minutes later as the three clattered down the stairs, “Sean’s stopping by this afternoon.”

Karla paused in the act of swinging the outside door open. “Are you hinting that Andrea and I should have dinner elsewhere?” she asked.

“Just the opposite!” Alycia laughed. “He’s bringing pizza for four.”

* * * *

Sean was late arriving at the apartment, which suited Alycia because it gave her time to change and freshen her makeup, and Andrea, as it afforded her the opportunity to straighten the living room, and Karla, who utilized the time by slicing a boxed coffee cake for dessert and making a pot of coffee to go with it.

Arms laden with two huge white pizza boxes, the fingers of one hand curled around the neck of a gallon jug of wine, Sean stepped inside the door and stopped dead.

“Sorry I’m so late,” he muttered, relinquishing the boxes to Karla, the wine to Andrea, and his coat to Alycia. “I got fast-talked by the head of the history department.” He gave a grunt of disgust as he tugged the snow-caked boots from his feet.

“Rathman.” Karla said the name scathingly, rolling her eyes.

‘The great orator,” Andrea added, grimacing.

“The keeper of the historical flame,” Alycia concluded, laughing.

Sean looked solemnly from one to the other; then he grinned. “That’s the one,” he said dryly. “Rathman the ridiculous. He’s giving a dinner party Saturday evening to introduce me to”—his voice changed, becoming heavy with a tone of self-importance that exactly mimicked the voice of the man under discussion—”the most serious academicians on campus.”

Sean’s amused irreverence set the tone for the rest of the evening. Laughing together like old friends, they devoured the two large loaded-with-everything pizzas, the entire coffee cake, all of the coffee, and half the bottle of wine before retiring to the living room.

Replete and comfortable, they sipped from refilled wineglasses and discussed whatever subject came to mind.

“What are your plans for spring break?” Sean asked at one point.

“You know that I leave for Williamsburg Saturday morning,” Alycia said, less enthusiastic than might have been expected.

Sean’s lips tightened slightly as he nodded. “And you two?” He glanced from Karla to Andrea.

“I’m going home to Lancaster to visit my family and hit the books for the final term,” Andrea replied, uncurling her legs from beneath her and stretching.

“And I’m off to New York Friday afternoon to stalk the art galleries,” Karla said, stifling a yawn as she stood up. “But right now I’m off to bed.” She flashed a smile that had stopped more than one man in his tracks. “Thanks for dinner, Sean, and good night.” With a casual wave of her hand, she exited the room. Andrea was right behind her.

“I’m going to turn in, too. Thanks, Sean, and good night, you two.”

“Hey, wait!” Sean called, sitting up abruptly. “How about Chinese tomorrow night?”

“You’re on,” Karla called back.

“Great,” Andrea seconded.

The instant they were alone Alycia felt tension crackle along her nervous system. Feeling conflicting emotions of anticipation and trepidation, she avoided Sean’s gaze by staring into her nearly empty glass. A ripple disturbed the surface of the wine when she jolted at the strained sound of his voice.

“I gave you my word; it still holds.” He sighed at her startled reaction. “Don’t look like that.”

“Like what?”

“As if you’re afraid I might pounce on you now that we’re alone.” His smile chided her and mocked himself. “I want to, but I won’t.”

Alycia shook her head slowly. “You misread my expression,” she said, her lips curving into a faint smile. “I wasn’t afraid you’d pounce on me.” She hesitated, then blurted out, “I was kind of hoping you would.”

Sean’s bark of laughter relieved the tension dancing on the air between them. Springing to his feet, he approached her in slow, measured steps. “I certainly wouldn’t want to be accused of disappointing you,” he said, plucking the fragile glass from her suddenly numb fingers. He raised one eyebrow as he set the glass aside. “Come, dance with me.” Taking her hand, he drew her out of her chair.

“Dance?” Alycia laughed. “There’s no music.” Tingles of excitement stirring her blood, she moved into his arms.

“I’ll sing,” he said, and to her amazement, he did. In a low, husky baritone, Sean sang a popular tune that told the story of a man and his love for one woman.

Trembling within his embrace, Alycia curled her arms around his neck. His warm, wine-scented breath misted her lips. The muscles in his arms flexed, tightening to draw her softness into intimate contact with his hard body. Mesmerized, she gazed into Sean’s passion-darkened eyes, her body swaying to the slow, sensuous rhythm of his.