A Distant Summer by Karen Toller Whittenburg Page A

but it was nice.”
    “Nice?”
    With a sigh she met Ruth’s persistence squarely. “It was wonderful, but it ended, as all vacations must. He lives there. I live here. Period.”
    “From where I sit, that sounds like a question mark. Don’t tell me you left without getting his phone number?”
    “I have his phone number, complete with area code and everything.” Kris restrained the impulse to check her slacks pocket and to hold the piece of paper in her hand again. She’d already worn her thumb-print onto the corner and memorized the thick black strokes of his pen. She had meant to call him the minute she’d arrived home. But for some reason she hadn’t.
    She had waited, told herself he wouldn’t be expecting a call quite so soon. Hadn’t she told him she planned to take her time, drive to Arkansas at a leisurely pace? But once on the road, she hadn’t wanted to stop, and she’d simply kept driving. Still, she should have phoned him. Maybe she had procrastinated because she wanted him to wonder, to know what it was like to wait for a call that never came.
    Kris sighed in soft resignation. She would call him this morning, but not until Ruth left the office. And that might take some fancy fabrication. “Ruth, I have the number, but I’m not going to call him.”
    “Well, write, then. Send a note thanking him for your wonderful vacation.”
    Sitting straight, Kris shoved the bottom drawer closed with her foot. “I hardly think a thank-you note would be appropriate, Ruth.”
    There was a sudden stillness. Kris rubbed her temples and wished that she had stayed home. But she’d been restless, unsettled. There had been thoughts, memories, what ifs and if onlys following her through every room m the house. She’d thought it would be better here at the office. She’d thought she wouldn’t see Ruth until later. She’d thought she could put Tucker from her mind.
    “Ishe married?” Ruth’s voice dropped to a hoarse growl. “My God, you didn’t get yourself involved with a married man, did you?”
    “I’m not totally insane, Ruth. Give me credit for having at least a little sense.”
    “If he’s not married, then I don’t see the problem.”
    “That’s because there isn’t one.”
    Ruth twisted her bantamweight body from the desk and stood, regarding Kris somberly and placing her bifocals on the top of her head in deliberate dispute. It was a gesture Kris knew well, and she firmed her chin in reply.
    “We’ve been friends a long time, Kristina. If you don’t feel like talking about your wonderful vacation, that’s fine with me. But if you ask my opinion, I think it’s about time you stopped punishing yourself for a mistake you made a thousand years ago. Risk a little hurt for a little happiness.” Ruth pursed her lips and then softened them with a rueful smile. “Sorry for the lecture. Melinda called from college last night, and I guess I didn’t get all the mothering out of my system.”
    A change of subject.  Kris breathed a silent thank-you. “How is she? Will she be home for summer break?”
    “Yes.” Ruth rubbed the back of her head and walked to the office door. “I don’t know why that makes me happy. In less than three weeks I’ll have more laundry, no food in the house, and limited use of the car. There’s something convoluted about our educational system. You should write an editorial about that, Kris.” She started through the doorway, then paused to take the glasses from her head and place them on the bridge of her gamin nose. “Why don’t you do that right after you make the call to Denver?”
    Kris smiled sweetly. “And why don’t you take a hike?”
    “My, my.” Reddish brows arched in amused surprise. “The high altitude in Colorado must have thinned your sense of humor. Would you like to come over for supper tonight?”
    “Not unless you’re offering to do my laundry.”
    “Let’s make it tomorrow night. That’ll give you time to get the film developed so