The Tree Keeper's Promise Part 6

"They do," Cathy answered, unmoved.

"So you're traveling alone? By yourself?" Angela knew they'd been discussing the dog. But this point was more disconcerting to her than potential pet-visiting hours.

"Yes I am," Cathy said emphatically. She held her coffee cup a bit too rigidly, though, and looked to Gary with pleading eyes again.

Gary paused and then offered some explanation. "She's been trying to talk me into retiring."

This was interesting. Cathy was quite used to getting her way. And as much as Gary appeared to care for her mother, Angela could see he had no intention of ending his professorship early for a Europe tour. She watched Cathy carefully.

"I thought you could apply for one of those sabbaticals, or whatever they're called."

"The university would ask for a report. I'd need research or a few speaking engagements. That's not how you want to tour Europe." He answered calmly but left Angela with the impression he and her mother had discussed this before.

"She could wait two more years for me," he said with a glance toward Cathy.

"You know this is the year I-it has to be this year. The Fiddlemans are moving back to the States." Cathy's face flushed a bit, her eyes resting on a spot of carpet.

Now this was adding up. Cathy didn't want to miss the chance to see her friends, the safety of their accommodations, and company.

"Good grief, if that's all this is about-wanting to see Europe with Nancy-then go. You don't have to act as if you only have six months to live," Angela said, relieved to finally understand the reason for her mother's insistence.

Cathy moved in her chair and looked distractedly about the room and back and forth to Mark and Angela.

"What is it, Mom? Is there something else?"

"You'll think I'm being pushy or controlling. But I want to know your plans before I head off. I don't want to miss ... I want to make sure I'm around for any big event in your life." She said it so meekly Angela didn't recognize her own mother.

Things clicked into place. She did have a reason for the dinner. And for asking about their possible engagement. Angela even sensed worry in her voice. She was leaving the country and didn't want to miss out. This realization brought a wave of relief with it, though Angela didn't know why, as her mother still waited expectantly for the answer to the same question she'd asked at the beginning of dinner.

"Don't worry. If you're only going for a month, nothing can happen that fast around here," Angela said with a nervous laugh.

Mark reached over, took her hand, and looked at her with his genuine eyes, his irresistible eyes.

"I don't mind if you get engaged while I'm gone, but I would hope you would wait for my return before any kind of ceremony," Cathy said, directing her words to Mark.

Only Mark couldn't have known why her mother felt the need to ask to be invited to their wedding. And why she was asking so timidly. This had everything to do with Angela's first marriage to Todd and her mother's refusal to attend the wedding. If she dwelt on it, the pain would return, and with it the desire to exclude her mother. But that was over nine years ago. They were speaking again and getting along now. Of course they would invite her.

But how had the conversation come to this? They weren't engaged, and even if Mark asked Angela tonight, they wouldn't have a wedding in a month! Had Angela missed something?

"Angela, could I ... could we talk ... maybe in the other room?" Mark asked.

He took her by the hand, and led her out of the room. Angela wasn't sure why or what was happening. She could hear Caroline asking more Bones questions. They walked to the parlor and sat on one of Cathy's custom-upholstered sofas, and Mark began talking in quiet tones about Cathy's expressions and a mother's love for her daughter, and how important engagements could be. Angela was only half listening, distracted by her own mental replay of everything that had been said at the table.

"Wait, what did you say about engagements?" Angela asked.

"That maybe it would put your mother at ease if we were engaged before she left," Mark said plainly.

"You're not joking, are you?"

"No, Angela. You saw your mother's face. She isn't trying to manipulate us. This means a lot to her."

It was true. Even if it was a departure for her mother. But Angela felt that familiar off-the-rails feeling anyway. She noticed Mark's posture, and a flash of panic filled her chest.

"No," she said. "Don't do this Mark."

"Do what?" he asked.

"Don't you dare propose here-not in my mother's house, not on this sofa," Angela's voice rose. "I know something is different, but don't you see? She'll get her way. It will be on her terms."

"Angela, I only meant to say we could give her some encouragement," Mark said.

"If you propose to me now, it will feel like my mom is running my life again."

Mark leaned over and kissed her. On the cheek, on the lips. It surprised her but calmed her at the same time.

"No one is running your life but you."

She took a much-needed deep breath in between his kisses.

He continued. "I want to marry you. That doesn't surprise you, does it? But I'm not asking tonight, not until it's the right time for both of us. And I won't ask at all if you don't want to marry me." He looked into her eyes, holding her gaze. "Do you want to marry me? Not will you, but do you want to?" He whispered the questions, but didn't wait for answers. He kissed her again, and she melted into him.

Yes. Yes! She wanted to marry him. But fresh memories of her marriage to Todd-and the painful end of it were sounding alarm bells in her head now. What would it take for her to be sure she wasn't making another mistake?

Though Mark's kisses could cause her to forget where she was and who she was, the designer upholstery reminded her of everyone waiting in the other room. This wasn't the best time for her to get lost in one of Mark's irresistible embraces.

"Yes," she whispered back. "You always know the right thing to say."

They returned to their chairs, Angela a bit breathless, Mark pleasantly calm.

"Cathy, I don't think your long-awaited tour of Europe is in danger of being cut short by any sudden matrimony."

All eyes were on Angela, even though Mark was the one who spoke.

"But you know how it is over at the Shafer Tree Farm. Anything can happen." He winked at Caroline. "Make sure we have a way to contact you."

The cushioned wicker love seat on the screened porch at Angela's house was a welcome change for Mark and Angela's post-dinner conversation. Caroline had protested somewhat before settling into bed but had finally fallen asleep.

Angela dished up two small bowls of chocolate ice cream.

"Lights? No lights?" she asked.

He said, "Whatever you like," so she left them off. The streetlamp from two houses away filtered in through the screens, causing the furniture and wooden floor to glow. Their faces were visible but in a soft, obscured way. This Angela loved. The sheer comfort of sitting close in the semidarkness on a porch that should theoretically feel exposed, but at night it was like they became part of the fixtures-hidden in plain sight.

Their conversation slowed to a stop-and-go, thoughtful pace. Long pauses felt natural, their questions floating in the air a minute or two before one of them would answer. Subjects changed effortlessly from one thing to another. This connectedness, Angela loved too.

"It's late," Mark said. "Do you have an early morning?"

"Not as early as you. And you still have a drive," Angela replied. "Did I scoop too much?" she asked, motioning to the bowl of ice cream.

"Not at all. This. .h.i.ts the spot."

There was a comfortable silence while they both ate. Angela thought about the driving Mark had done over the summer, the miles through town, back and forth. For her. And unlike Cathy, he'd never complained. Not once. For all her panicking at Cathy's house, she now had a twinge of sympathy in her chest. Mark has been so patient.

"You know, we could do something about that," Angela said before she thought too much about it.

"About what?" Mark was clearly too lost in his ice cream to follow her train of thought.

"About the driving. We could shorten the distance," she said, surprising herself. But their conversation at her mother's house was having an effect on her.

Mark eyed her carefully. She waited for what she was suggesting to sink in.

"Did I miss a season?" Mark said. "Aren't we waiting four seasons so you can be sure about me?" he asked with a good-natured laugh. "So what do you think of Gary?" he asked, changing the subject.

I'm probably confusing him, Angela thought. I'm confusing myself!

"I don't know what to think. Before tonight I would have told you he was rather una.s.suming. When she met him in the summer, I thought for sure it would be over once the school year began. Then I find out my mom has a house for his dog."

"So you think there's more going on there?" Mark asked, moving his arm around Angela after putting down the bowl.

She felt his hand rest easily on her shoulder. Such a small touch and yet it distracted her every time.

"He isn't going with her to Europe. So there is that," Angela said.

"We'll see what happens after her trip. I wonder if she'll feel the same about him after Barcelona and Milan."

"What? No Paris or Madrid?"

"I'm sure she'll stop there, too. And probably London and who knows where else. Cathy has eclectic interests. Every year she planned to go, she had her reasons. Now they've all morphed into one giant adventure. She took an architecture cla.s.s. Barcelona's got the gothic thing going on. Of course, exotic food has been a constant. And shopping. I'm not sure how she's going to bring all the Versace and Prada home."

Angela smiled at the thought of her mother trying to fit it all in, buying more designer luggage in the process. She rested her head against Mark's chest and closed her eyes.

"Will you be okay if Gary turns out to be more than a non-boyfriend for your mom?" Mark asked it in such a serious, knowing way, like he knew something she didn't.

"Of course. I don't mind Gary. If I think about it, he's good for my mom. She needs the company."

"That's just it. Ever since you and your mom reconciled last Christmas, you've been able to spend more time together. More this year than the last five put together, you said not that long ago. Are you sure you wouldn't feel, I don't know, like it was too soon to let her go again?"

He was right. So right. That was how she'd been feeling without being able to put words to it. And yet it didn't make any sense. Gary wasn't possessive, and Cathy had been, on the whole, much happier.

"Yeah, that is what it feels like," Angela reluctantly admitted. "But how did you know that?"

"Why do you think I haven't proposed yet?"

The question blindsided her. What did Gary and Cathy have to do with Mark's proposal? Angela sat up to look at him, squinting in the half-light.

"Because like some superst.i.tious fool I told you we needed to know each other four seasons. Or maybe you don't like the way I prune the trees."

Angela knew it wasn't her tree-pruning debacle, but she did wonder if he'd had second thoughts and if the four seasons had worked against them somehow.

Mark laughed a head-shaking laugh.

"Right, you've mentioned the four seasons rule a time or two," he said.

Angela waited. There was more, and her mind couldn't quite grasp it. "Are you going to tell me, or do I need to keep guessing?"

"You and your mom, you've been getting along and spending time together, and Caroline has loved it. I didn't want to ask too soon, move too quickly, and take you from this time with her."

Patient, insightful. And selfless. And what have I been? Obsessed with four seasons and not making another mistake.

Chapter 6.

As Mark drove to Angela's house across town, he reviewed their conversation from the night before. No, there was one sentence in particular he replayed over and over.

"We could shorten the distance," she'd said. Her expression had been playful, her eyes flirtatious, even. That one comment had sparked so much hope in him he wanted to ask her to marry him right on the spot. But given how she'd been acting at her mother's house, he'd chosen to focus on his ice cream instead. He planned to ask soon, though. And then they could shorten the distance.

When he arrived at Angela's house, she was finishing the dishes. She dried her hands and came and gave him a hug. She rested her head on his shoulder. Her thick, curly hair had been partially pulled back. He closed his eyes for a minute. This was an ordinary moment, but Angela lingered a little longer than usual, and it felt like this was their house and that they belonged together. And he liked the way that felt. He liked the way she felt.

"I brought a little something for Caroline." Mark set his bag down and took it out.

Angela tipped her head. "A picture of a pine tree?"

"Not any tree-the one she picked out for Christmas. She's been asking if she could go visit it, so I went and took a picture for her. Where is she?"

She brushed the back of his arm with her hand. "Not here. She's actually with my mom," she said. "That was sweet of you."

"In Providence?" Mark asked.

"The very place. She begged to play with Bones before Cathy leaves."

Mark thought for a minute. "It's not Cathy's dog, right?"

"My mom said Gary would be visiting. Believe me, I'm all for Caroline playing with Bones at her house."

"Are we picking her up tonight? How much time do we have?" Mark asked. He pulled the sheet music from his bag. Angela eyed it and smiled.

"As much as we need. You know, you hinted on the phone that tonight might be special?" Angela moved into the kitchen and pulled out drinks.

"I did?" Mark's mind raced over their phone call earlier that day. They'd talked about the tracks they wanted to record, about the producer in Nashville Angela knew. They covered Cathy leaving for Europe in two weeks. What else had they talked about? He'd mentioned he had a new song he wanted to play for her. Was that it?

Didn't matter how it happened, but Angela had gone to the trouble of taking Caroline to her grandmother's house, and she'd made a point of being friendlier when Mark arrived. And now she was asking if Mark had more than music in mind.

All of these thoughts were beginning to coalesce when Angela, a step or two ahead, it seemed, suggested they head to the studio and get started.