"Why?" Holly looked at him, startled.
"I want to know more about the school, what they're going to do with the boat."
"I'll have Father Morrison send you a brochure on the school, and-"
"I want to talk to you about it."
"When?"
"How about now?"
He thought she'd refuse, would come up with some reason that it wouldn't work. She could have pleaded that she needed to shower and clean up, which she certainly did. But he waited, and finally she said, "I guess you'd better come up then."
She didn't speak the rest of the way up to her flat. Only when they were inside and he was drinking in an atmosphere of cozy simplicity with a world-class view did she say, "I need a shower before we talk. There are books and magazines on the table if you want. I have coffee and tea."
"I'll be all right."
"Well, if you want some, help yourself. The fixings are right there." She nodded toward the countertop in the kitchen on the other side of the bar that separated it from the living room.
But his attention had been caught by a stack of professionally done flyers on the bar. They advertised a condo for sale. Holly's condo.
Lukas picked up one of the flyers. "You're moving?"
On her way toward the bath, Holly glanced back at him. "Yep. In August."
"Find another place?" This one had never seemed like Holly to him. He wasn't surprised.
"No. I'm leaving."
"Leaving?" He frowned. "The city?"
"The country." And Holly gave him the first really bright smile he'd seen from her today. "I'm joining the Peace Corps."
Lukas stared, feeling oddly as if he'd been punched. "You're joking?"
Holly looked indignant. "You don't think I can do it, maybe I'm not tough enough? Not resilient enough?"
"Of course you can do it." Holly was one of the toughest, most resilient people he'd ever known. As a kid she'd taken anything he and Matt had dished out. And as an adult, well, she'd survived losing her husband, hadn't she?
"It's just-" Lukas swallowed-that he'd just got back, that he'd just seen her again. They'd finally made peace. "You live here," he protested. "You've always lived here."
Holly's smile faded. "I don't think 'always' is in my vocabulary anymore."
Oh, hell. Lukas opened his mouth and closed it again. He rubbed a hand over his hair. "So, you're leaving because of Matt? You don't think that's maybe a little drastic?"
"Dying was a little drastic," Holly said wryly.
"Well, yeah, but..." Lukas straightened his shoulders. "He didn't do it on purpose."
"I know that!"
"I know you know. It's just... I'm surprised, that's all. I thought you loved your job."
She gave him a wary look. "How do you know that?"
"Matt always said so. He said you were fantastic at it, that the kids loved you." Every time he'd seen Matt, his old friend had spent much of the time talking about Holly.
Lukas had told himself he didn't want to hear, but he had never changed the subject. In fact, he'd hung on every word.
"I like teaching," Holly allowed. "I like the kids." There was a renewed warmth in her tone, and he remembered seeing that warmth when she'd been with them that afternoon. "They were what kept me sane," she reflected with a wan smile. "After." After Matt's death, she meant. "They needed me. They made me focus on something besides coming home to an empty house. An empty life." She paused again, then her face brightened a bit. "But there will be kids where I'm going. I'm teaching there, too."
Lukas still wasn't convinced. "Where's there?"
"You won't have heard of it."
But when she told him, he had. It was a tiny South Pacific island he hadn't visited, but he knew where it was. Thanks to what happened on Holly's prom night, Lukas had done a lot of crewing in the South Pacific. He knew hundreds of little islands no one in their right mind would go to. He'd been to most of them. "And that's better than St. Brendan's?"
"Not better." She shook her head no.
"Well, then-" Lukas was ready to argue.
But Holly just shrugged. "I can't stay here. I can't do this anymore. It's...what my life would have been with Matt." Lukas could hear the aching loneliness in her voice. He had to make himself stay right where he was, not cross the room to touch her. "I need to find out who I am without him."
The same person you've always been, Lukas wanted to say, but deep down, he understood. Her dreams had died with Matt. She needed to find new ones.
We can find those dreams together. He wanted to say that, too. But he couldn't. He knew better than to push. He had pushed her twelve years ago, trying to make her see what she didn't see at all.
"There's beer in the fridge," Holly told him, "if you'd rather. Excuse me. I need that shower." And she disappeared down the hall, leaving Lukas staring after her.
* * *
Holly took her time in the shower, needing to get her mind and her emotions on an even keel. So much for handling the boat issue with her letter to Lukas. Now she had him in her condo instead.
Worse, it wasn't a "boat issue" at all. It was a "Lukas issue"-and it always had been. She couldn't lie to herself any longer.
She had always, deep down, had a thing for Lukas. Not that she'd ever admitted it-not to anyone. Not even to herself. But for the past dozen years she'd been able to pretend it didn't exist because...well, because it hadn't.
She'd loved Matt. She'd married Matt. It had been the right thing for both of them. And if once upon a time she'd entertained brief foolish dreams of a relationship with Lukas, fortunately she'd known better than to believe it could ever happen.
As long as she had known him Lukas had been the most unsettled, least reliable person she'd ever met. If she'd ever been stupid enough to throw herself at him, she knew he might well have taken her up on it. But after he'd had a taste of her, he would have got bored. He never stuck with anything. The article in What's New! had made his varied enthusiasms and scattered career sound like positive things-and for an entrepreneur, maybe they were.
But you never built a lasting relationship on that. And Holly knew herself well enough to know that, however much she changed direction now, if she ever started another relationship it would have to be with someone who felt the same deep, intense commitment she did.
"So remember that," she said, gurgling into the spray from the showerhead, "no matter how appealing you still find Lukas Antonides."
Because one glance of him face-to-face told her she was still susceptible.
Fortunately, Lukas wouldn't be around long. They would sign the deed of gift, chat about what he was doing, what she was doing, maybe talk a bit about Matt and the "good old days," and, in a matter of an hour or two, he'd be out of her life.
Tonight she would go out to dinner and a film with Paul and it would all be behind her. It was no big deal.
It was nice-and unexpected-that Lukas had apologized. Apparently, he had done some growing up, too. Good. They could act like adults.
Thinking about it like that-rationally, sensibly-eased the tension in her shoulders, allowed her to take deeper breaths, and by the time she got out, toweled off and dressed again, she was feeling much more in control.
Lukas had made coffee by the time she returned to the living room. She could smell it, and it made her stomach growl. He held a mug in his hands. He nodded at a second full mug on the counter. "Hope you wanted one."
Holly picked it up, glad to have something to hold. She took a sip. "So what is it you want to know?"
He shook his head. "A dozen years' worth of your life? Too much?" He smiled wryly. "Okay, so tell me what this program is all about and why Matt thought it was a great idea to saddle a bunch of kids with a nautical disaster."
"Because a lot of them are disasters themselves," Holly said. She moved to sit in the armchair that Matt used to sit in, wanting his presence to help her articulate what she was going to say. She gestured to the other chair or to the sofa, hoping that Lukas would take the hint. She didn't need him looming over her. Fortunately, he sat down on the sofa and put his mug on the coffee table. But instead of settling back, he leaned forward, forearms on his thighs, fingers loosely clasped, his full attention on her.
"There are a lot of at-risk kids there. Kids who haven't had a lot of chances. They see their little patch of turf and not much else. They don't know what else there is in the world-unless they see it on TV. So five years ago, after we came back from a canoeing trip to the Southwest where we'd seen groups of kids doing what we were doing and having a blast, Matt said, 'The St. Bren's kids would love that.' And it started from there."