A Portrait of Marguerite by Kate Lloyd

Author:Kate Lloyd
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781589190566
Publisher: David C Cook

Tim arrived exactly on time. My attempts to switch our date to Saturday hadn’t worked. “I’m going over to help my folks,” he’d said on the phone earlier. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner.” I wasn’t ready to meet his parents, although I felt flattered by the invitation. I couldn’t remember the last time a man had welcomed me into his inner sanctum.

As Tim spread open the entertainment section of the paper, then recited the list of movies playing, my mind drifted. I’d slept restlessly the night before, shredded images of Henry burrowing through my mind. Losing his wife had devastated him. And his poor children must have been heartsick growing up without a mother. I’d envisioned Henry helpless, watching the person he loved the most in the world slowly wither to nothing. Had he held her at the last moment? Did he still stretch out his hand in the middle of the night longing to feel her warm skin?

“Here’s a good one,” Tim said. “But we need to boogie to make it on time.” He stood, tromping on Charlie’s foot. The dog growled and moved out of his way. “Sorry, pooch. You’re so little I didn’t see you.”

“He does get underfoot sometimes.”

“You can teach him not to. My parents’ beagle behaves perfectly. I’ll get you the name of the obedience school.”

“That’s okay.” I leaned down to pat Charlie’s whiskered face. “He’s too old to change his ways.”

“No, it’s never too late. You just have to be consistent with the discipline.”

I couldn’t help wondering if a man who’d never reared children knew what consistent discipline meant. Anyway, I liked Charlie the way he was. But I decided to play it safe and keep my thoughts to myself.

Twenty minutes later Tim sped us into the parking lot of the Oak Tree Cinemas. He circled around looking for a place where his car doors wouldn’t get dinged and finally parked in a corner spot at the far end of the lot.

“You’re going to love this show,” he said, then hopped out and jogged around the car to open my door. “Let’s hurry. We don’t want to miss the previews.”

The fast-paced action film was the kind I usually avoided. Even as I watched hair-raising car chases and hand-to-hand combat, I found my thoughts reverting to Henry. His melancholy face appeared in the flashing darkness. I asked myself why I’d fled his house so quickly. I should have stayed longer, taken time to examine each work of art. I could have explored the smooth stone surface of the greenish black carved bird displayed on a tall pedestal, and asked about the beaded moccasins sitting on a windowsill.

Well, I missed my chance. I would never go back there again. I gave my teacher a ride home, and he’d shared a personal story only to illustrate a point, to teach his fledgling student a lesson. It made no sense why I even cared.

Glancing at my watch several times only seemed to make the movie drag by more slowly.

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