Past, Present And A Future. Janice Carter

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СКАЧАТЬ of her classes in the morning.” Clare munched on a red pepper strip and scanned the room for Gil. Had he already left?

      Laura’s face cleared. “Oh, that’s wonderful. Those kids would love to see and hear a real live author, especially one from here.”

      Clare ignored a tug of guilt, knowing she’d made the decision to visit the class only at that moment. “I was honored to be asked,” she said. “How about if I call you tonight?” She set her paper plate down on the hall table and headed for the front door, Laura at her heels.

      “Want to come for dinner tonight?” Laura asked. “We’re just ordering in and my parents will be here, but at least we could have a bit of a chat.”

      Guilt won out. “Perhaps. I’ll call you later this afternoon.”

      “Okay. And…have a nice walk with Gil,” Laura said.

      Clare saw the curiosity in her friend’s face and would have explained the situation but a quick glance through the glass-paned door behind her registered Gil, waiting for her at the foot of the stairs. “Talk to you later,” she said and walked out onto the porch.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      HE DIDN’T SAY a word until they reached the end of the sidewalk. “My car or yours?”

      Clare hesitated. “Maybe we should just forget about this.”

      Gil sent her a look—a challenge. “Is that really what you want?” He didn’t pause long enough for a reply. “How about meeting in the park across from town hall? We’d still be taking a walk, getting fresh air and no one has to feel bad about skipping out on the christening reception.”

      “We were there for the important part,” she added.

      “Definitely,” he said. “I’ll see you at John Calvin’s statue in about ten minutes?”

      He walked to his car before she could change her mind again and call a halt to the plan. Clare muttered to herself during the short drive to the park, wondering why she’d agreed to his suggestion. There were plenty of parking spaces around Riverside Park although several families were taking advantage of the balmy day to visit the town’s scenic center. She quickly spotted Gil, lounging against the statue of the town’s founder.

      “Looks like we weren’t the only ones thinking of the park today,” he commented as she approached.

      Clare nodded. “The children’s play area over there must be a draw,” she said. “Too bad we didn’t have anything like that when we were kids.”

      “We hung out at the school playground then. Remember?”

      She did. They’d attended one of two elementary schools in town and the whole class had moved to Twin Falls High afterward. There’d been no escape from any of her classmates, Clare remembered. No place else to go, except out of town. Some students, mostly those in a higher economic bracket, had gone to various private schools in or near Hartford.

      “Shall we take the river trail?” Gil asked.

      “Sure,” she said, knowing how indifferent she sounded but not really caring.

      He led the way to the strip of asphalt running along the top of the riverbank. “I think I liked this trail better when it was just gravel,” Gil commented. “It seemed more natural. This makes me feel like I’m in one of those theme parks.”

      Clare smiled to herself. She bet Gil had never stepped foot in a theme park. “I think it would take more than an asphalt walkway to qualify.”

      “I guess it’s my age showing—I hate seeing so many changes.”

      “But a lot of the changes in town look to be good ones,” she said. “They show growth and economic stability.”

      “True enough. I remember a time when I was a kid that my folks seemed real worried about making a go of it here. Especially after the lumber mill closed down.”

      She’d forgotten about that. By then, her parents had divorced and her mother was working at the bank. “I don’t remember where your father ended up after the mill closed.”

      “He took some computer courses at night school in Hartford and eventually managed to get a job in the administration department at town hall. He stayed there ’til retirement.”

      “When was that?”

      “Five years ago. He was seventy when he had his stroke.”

      “I always liked your father.”

      They walked in silence a few more yards until Gil said, a bit gruffly, “Yeah, and he always liked you, too.” He motioned to a bench ahead. “Want to sit for a minute?”

      She hesitated, sensing the stop might lead to more reminiscing and she wasn’t sure she wanted that to happen. But she was reluctant to decline, especially right after talking about his father. Plus, she and Gil had been friends—more than friends—long ago.

      “Sure,” she said and sank onto the wooden seat. A line of trees were strung along the other side of the trail and through them, she could make out the wooden footbridge spanning the river and the steep embankment leading up from it. Her eyes moved up to its high point. “I see there’s a guardrail over there, too.”

      Her gaze shifted slightly to the left and she noticed the distant rooftop of Twin Falls High. She bit down on her tongue as she realized what she was looking at. They were sitting directly across the river from the place where Rina Thomas’s body had been found.

      Gil noticed where she was looking and, after a moment, said, “I imagine they put it up after Rina died. Maybe to discourage kids from using the shortcut.”

      She turned his way but he was still staring at the opposite side of the river. When he finally spoke, his voice was so low she could hardly hear. “It’s taken me a while to be able to refer to Rina with equanimity, but I’ve managed to put the whole thing behind me.” His eyes fixed on hers. “And I suggest you try to do the same, Clare. Otherwise, comments like the ones we both heard today will always bother you.”

      Blood rushed to her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was upset because…because some people have focused on a single aspect of my book.”

      “Maybe your reaction shows that you’re unsure about your intentions in writing the book. Not that I’m saying you purposely set out to produce a tell-all kind of book. But I do know that the Clare Morgan I remember had a tougher shell than the one I saw today at the christening.”

      Clare leaped to her feet. “You amaze me, you really do. I mean, we haven’t seen or spoken for seventeen years and you have the nerve to think you still know me. It’s almost laughable.” She folded her arms across her chest and stepped away from the bench, keeping her eyes on the view ahead. She heard him get up and for a tense instant, thought he was going to move closer and place a hand on her shoulder. But he didn’t. She spun around.

      “In fact,” she went on, “you don’t know me any better now than you did then.” She forced her eyes on his, challenging his set, impassive expression to reveal some emotion. Any emotion. But his gaze, coolly resting on her flushed СКАЧАТЬ