Love Storm by Jennifer McNare Page A

feeling a momentary twinge of
melancholy.   It was a small canvas,
painted by a lesser-known nineteenth century Italian painter named Vincenzo
Bertalini.   The detailed watercolor
depicted a breathtakingly beautiful winter landscape that she’d admired long
before her trip up the mountain, but she loved it even more now, for it
reminded her of the beautiful vista she and Ryan had stopped to view, just
before they’d had their snowball fight along the mountain trail.   It was estimated to sell for between fifteen
and twenty thousand dollars, and if she’d had that kind of money she would have
been sorely tempted to bid on it herself, for sadly, it wasn’t one of the
pieces the museum intended to purchase.   It was really too bad, for it would have been nice to be able to stop
and admire it now and then as she’d gone about her work.
    Ultimately the piece sold to an online bidder for
twenty-three thousand dollars, but before it was packaged up, she took one last
look at the beautiful painting that brought to mind such wonderful
memories.   Gazing at the delicate brush
strokes, her thoughts once again turned to Ryan, as they so often had since
she’d left the cabin.   She had only
talked to him once since she’d returned to Denver, when she’d called to let him
know that she had gotten home safely, as she’d promised.   Their conversation had been light, casual and
relatively brief, ending with Ryan telling her that he would get in touch with
her, once he too was back in Denver.  
    “That was fun, wasn’t it,” Rebecca, one of the other
interns, said as she walked up to stand next to Brooklyn.
    Turning her head, she smiled at the petite brunette.   “Yeah, it sure was.”
    “You know, Shelly and I were talking about going out for
drinks after we wrap things up here.   Would you like to come along?”
    She considered the offer for a moment.   She knew that Julia was having dinner with
Ben later, and a night out with the girls would be a lot better for her than
sitting home alone in her apartment, thinking about Ryan.   “Sure, I’d love to.”  
    “Great, let’s hurry and finish up so we can get out of
here.”
    Casting one last wistful glance at the breathtakingly
beautiful landscape, Brooklyn turned to follow Rebecca.

 
 
    By the time Brooklyn forced herself out of bed on Saturday
morning, it was already past ten.   Unlike
usual, she wasn’t looking forward to the weekend ahead and she’d deliberately
slept in.   During the week, at least
between the hours of nine to five, she’d been able to focus on something other
than how much she missed Ryan.   But now,
with two full work-free days ahead of her, she was afraid that she wouldn’t
have nearly enough to occupy her mind and keep her restless thoughts at
bay.   She supposed she could call Julia
and ask her to go to a movie with her later; that would kill a couple of hours
at least.   Swinging her legs over the
side of the bed, she wondered if there were any decent comedies playing as she
made her way to the bathroom.   She could
certainly use a good laugh.
    Once she’d slipped into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved
cotton shirt, she walked into the kitchen and put a couple of pieces of bread
into the toaster.   As she waited for them
to brown, she grabbed a knife and butter, poured herself a glass of orange
juice and then pulled a stool up to the narrow overhang that sat atop the short
wall that separated the kitchen and the living room.   Her apartment wasn’t large, and a far cry
from the lavishness of Wade and Kate’s cabin, not to mention their sprawling
home in the suburbs of Richmond, but it was tastefully decorated and had that
warm, cozy feeling she loved.
    Glancing toward her cell phone plugged into the charger at
the end of the counter, she couldn’t help wondering for perhaps the
one-hundredth time, if Ryan would actually call her when he got back to Denver,
as he’d said he would.   Yes, of course he
would call,