Under An English Moon by Bess McBride Page B

questions, all natural, and she couldn’t bear to blow them off or rush him like she was—not on his first day in the twenty-first century.
    “I imagine because they can be quiet and people could sneak around in them?” She fished for her cell phone in her bag. “I’m going to call Annie and tell her we’ll meet her an hour later.”
    He eyed the phone with interest.
    “And what is that device?”
    Phoebe opened her mouth to speak, but Annie came on the line.
    “Hello?”
    “Hey, it’s me,” Phoebe said. “We’re running late. Can we delay breakfast by an hour?”
    “Sure,” Annie said. “I’m still just hanging around, doing a lot of nothing. How’s the shoot going?”
    Phoebe looked at Reggie, imagining him modeling the thongs, and her face flamed. She grinned broadly, and Reggie responded though she wondered if he would have if he had known what she was thinking.
    “Ummm...fine,” she murmured. “Just taking more time than I thought. See you in a little while.” She turned the phone off and handed it to Reggie.
    “It’s called a phone, a cell phone, a mobile phone.”
    Reggie set the shoes down and studied the phone.
    “We communicate with it. Like I can call Annie back at the apartment.”
    “Fascinating,” Reggie murmured. “Is it possible to call England? Perhaps not as it is so far away.”
    “Sure, I can call England...for a price. But who would we call, Reggie?”
    Reggie’s smile faded, and he shook his head. “I know no one in England now, do I?” His shoulders drooped almost imperceptibly as he handed the phone back to her.
    “Oh, Reggie! I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what you must be feeling.” Phoebe took a seat on the bench next to Reggie. She covered his hand as it rested on his knee.
    “It seems impossible that Samuel and my father no longer live. Unthinkable.”
    He placed his free hand over Phoebe’s, and she forgot what they were talking about for a moment. Then he lifted his chin.
    “It is of no consequence. I shall see them soon enough. As interesting as I find it here in your America, I feel certain this is only a temporary sojourn, and that I will return in due time.”
    Phoebe pulled her hand from his and rose quickly. “Well, let’s try those shoes on before you have to leave.” His words stung though she knew it wasn’t his intent.
    Reggie looked up at her, startled. He rose hastily. “Forgive me, Phoebe, if I said anything to cause you distress. I am most appreciative of everything you have done for me, I truly am. I did not mean to imply that I was desirous of hastening back to my own time just yet.”
    “I understand,” Phoebe said, slightly mollified. “Sit down and try your shoes on.” She gave him a small smile. “Here.” She showed him how to lace them. The shoes fit perfectly, and Reggie delighted in walking around in them.
    “I do feel like a sneaker,” he said, “silent and stealthy. Wonderful invention, these.”
    Phoebe pressed her lips together again to hold back a laugh. There was a boyishness to Reggie that she found utterly charming, and she wondered if he seemed so ingenuous in his time or whether it was because his naïveté was exaggerated in her modern world. She watched him for a few moments. His tall, well-built physique was all man though.
    “Come on, sneaker. Let’s go change into the rest of your clothes. You might as well just leave the shoes on so you can wear them out of the store. I can’t imagine what you’d look like with the jeans stuffed into your tasseled Hessian boots.” Phoebe grabbed his boots, located the men’s fitting room and pushed him inside with the clothing and underwear. “You can figure how to put those on yourself,” she said. “Take your time.”
    She made her way over to the checkout desk to face the saleswoman.
    “Look, I know this is really unusual, but my...uh...boyfriend is going to wear his clothes out of the store.” She held up a hand as the woman raised her brows. “Don’t ask.