This Time(27)

"What about me?"

"Did you watch any of my games with your dad?"

Avoiding his gaze, she shook her head no. She'd tried a couple of times - once during his rookie year, then again a few years later. But the memory of what should have been came crashing down on her, rekindling the heartache she desperately needed to overcome.

Burke stared into his coffee, sadness shrouding his eyes. Belle stared at the wall.

"You were an integral part of my football journey."

"I wasn't the one who put an end to that, Burke."

He sighed. "Yeah, I know."

An intern passed by the cafeteria door and recognized Burke. Boldly, the young man approached, pulling a pen and prescription pad from the pocket of his stiff white lab coat, and asked for Burke's autograph. Burke scribbled his name while carrying on a brief conversation.

"You've lived quite a life," she said when the intern left.

"I suppose. But, you know, somehow I think the best is yet to come." He took a sip of his coffee. "So," he started, his question low and tender. "Our chapel conversation ended rather abruptly."

"What do you mean?" Belle asked.

"Have we said all we want to say?"

"About how you broke my heart and ruined my life?" Belle downed the last of her coffee and tapped her cup on the tabletop.

"In a word, yes."

"What else is there to say?"

He shrugged. "You were upset when you left. If you have more to say to me, I'd like to hear it."

Tears stung in her eyes again. "Not now, Burke, I don't have the energy." She let her gaze fall on his face.

"I understand," he said. "This has been a rather chaotic day."

"That's an understatement," she said.

Burke said, "I know we can't deal with the last twelve years in a few short conversations."

"Not even a few long ones," she said wryly.

"Can I ask a question?"

"Sure."

Burke dipped his head, and his hands fiddled with his empty coffee cup. "What'd you look like?"

Belle glared at him. "Look like?" she repeated.

He shifted nervously in his seat. "I always wondered what you looked like in your wedding dress."

She reared back surprised, absently chewing on the rim of her Styrofoam coffee cup. Her heart raced.

"What an odd question, Burke," she finally said.

He brushed his head with his hands, still staring at the floor. "Well, it's one of the odd things I've thought about over the years. I always remember how excited you were about the gown you found. I regret I didn't get to see you wear it."

Belle asked with cynical edge. "Is that all you regret about that day?"

He frowned and said with passion, "Of course not."

She answered him. "I really can't remember." She tapped her fingernails on the side of her cup.

He looked into her eyes. "I imagined you were the definition of beautiful."

Her heart fluttered at the sincere compliment. "Thank you, but Burke, we can't get that day back."

He glanced away and nodded once. "The core of my regret."

She reached across the table and touched his hand briefly, realizing his dilemma that dreadful day. Not wanting to hurt her, yet too full of doubts to make the commitment. The turmoil must have been incredible.

The conversation stalled. After a moment, Belle said in a soft, reminiscent tone. "The dress was white satin with a wide skirt and a long, flowing train. The bodice was off the shoulder and trimmed with thousands of pearls and lace. I wore my hair down. My veil, well…" She stopped and motioned around her head with her hands. "It was big and poofy." She looked at him with a slight grin. It felt good to speak the memory out loud.

"Sounds beautiful," he said with tenderness.

"Yeah, well…" Her sentence trailed off as the reality of the day she wore the dress quickly resurfaced. She fidgeted nervously. Suddenly, she lifted her empty coffee cup. "Think I'll go for a refill."

"Sounds good."

As they walked across the cafeteria to the coffee machine, Burke said, "Belle, I want to fix the porch."

She whirled around. "You what?" The quick change in the conversation caught her off guard; her mind still wrapped around the picture of her twelve year old wedding dress.

"I want to bring a few of the guys from the team over to work on your porch."

Her eyes narrowed. "Really?"

"Really," he said seriously. "I want to help out. I think I can get some of the guys to pitch in."

She turned and walked back to their table. Sitting back down, she shook her head. "I don't get it."

Burke grabbed his seat and moved it closer to hers. "I want to be there for you and Duke. The Bar J has always been a second home to me. Besides, you don't have the time to hunt down contractors. Let me do the work."

His offer of aid touched her heart, although the idea of him showing up every day at the Bar J made her feel awkward.

"Belle," he said softly, "don't twist this around too much in your head."

She stared at the dark window on the other side of the cafeteria for a moment. Normally a decision like this came easy and without hesitation. But the day's events had sapped her of her energy to think. She couldn't find one good reason as to why she should deny his request. Finally, with a quick nod, she agreed.