A Walk Along the Beach(45)

Willa went still while I waited for her congratulations.

    When she spoke, her voice was soft and small. “You’re leaving again?”

“Yes, this is what I do, Willa. You know that.”

She bit into her lower lip as if holding back her disappointment. “So soon after Bolivia?”

“It happens like that sometimes.” I could see how badly she wanted to argue with me.

“But you’ve been desperately ill.”

“I’m much better. My last blood tests proved as much. This doesn’t mean I’ll be flying out right away. It’ll probably take a few weeks to get everything sorted out.”

She held my gaze and I could see the effort it took for her not to say anything more.

“You don’t need to worry,” I said, wanting to reassure her. I was excited and disappointed that she didn’t share my enthusiasm. My hope was that she’d recognize how fortunate I was to have gotten this plum assignment. This wasn’t something that had come together at the last minute. I’d been waiting for weeks, hoping for this opportunity.

“Don’t tell me not to worry,” she said, attacking the dough with her hands, kneading it with such force I took a step back.

“But…”

“Telling me not to worry guarantees that I will worry.”

“Willa, please.”

“Please what? ‘Please understand. Please be happy for me. Please put this out of my mind and be the sweet little girlfriend who waves you off with a smile.’?”

“Yes.” That was all I could think to say.

“Which one?” she demanded.

“All of the above,” I stated calmly. To be fair, I’d expected her to complain it was too soon after being ill or to argue that I should give myself more time to heal properly.

    Her shoulders slumped forward and her hands stilled. “Just how long will you be away this time? Three weeks? A month? Two?”

“I don’t know. It could be up to two months.”

She lifted her forearm and wiped it across her forehead. “Will it be dangerous work?”

I opened my mouth to assure her I’d be as safe as a baby tucked in his mother’s arms. As much as I wanted to make light of any dangers I would likely encounter, to claim otherwise would be misleading. Any excursion into a foreign country came with certain risks. The polluted drinking water, various insects, and snakes were only a few of the threats I’d likely face.

“I’ll be careful,” I whispered. Unable to keep from touching her any longer, I stepped behind her and wrapped my arms around her middle, hugging her and resting my chin on her shoulder.

“Will…Will you be able to stay in touch?”

Most likely it would be hit and miss with a whole lot more misses than hits. The areas where I’d be working were remote, and any chance of finding an Internet connection was unlikely. With an assignment this lengthy, there would be opportunities to travel into town for supplies. Depending on the location, we might be fortunate enough to find an Internet café. When it came to guarantees, I couldn’t give her any.

“Your silence says it all.”

Willa continued working. Neither of us spoke as she rolled out the dough and spread the sugar, butter, and cinnamon over the top before securing it. She cut each roll into one-inch slices with surprising accuracy, never needing to measure before she placed them on the sheet to rise next to the first sheet.

Earlier Willa said it had taken her time to understand what Harper had been trying to tell her for weeks. She needed space from the sister who had been more mother than sibling. It hurt her to let go of Harper.

    Willa used the back of her hand to wipe the moisture from her face.

Turning her around so I could look at her, I saw that tears had filled her eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks.

“It’s too much,” she whispered. “First Harper wants to leave me, and now you.”

“Baby,” I whispered, drawing her close. I kissed the top of her head. “Harper’s not leaving you any more than I am. We’ll both be right here.”

“You’ll be half a world away,” she argued.

“My heart won’t be. That will be with you.”

She chuckled and slammed her palm against my shoulder. “Do you think a few pretty words are going to make me feel better?”

“I can hope, can’t I?” Drawing in a deep breath, I felt I had to ask even when I wasn’t sure of her answer. “Do you want me to turn down this assignment?”

She pulled away and looked me in the eyes as if to gauge the sincerity of my question. “Are you serious? Would you actually turn it down if I asked you to?”

I was serious and nodded, holding in my breath, fearing that was what she wanted. If she did, I wasn’t sure how I’d respond. Years ago, I heard a television attorney mention how important it was to never ask the witness a question when they didn’t know the answer. Perhaps I should have taken a lesson from that.

If Willa asked me to give up this assignment, I wasn’t sure I could do it, no matter how strong my feelings were for her. It would possibly be the beginning of the end of our relationship.

“No,” she said after the longest moment of my life, “I would never ask that of you.”