“Why don’t we talk about time travel?”
“I thought you were going to read us a story.”
Julian pointed a finger at the interjector. “Disgusting and impatient. I’m getting to the story. But first I want to hear where you would go on a time-traveling mission.”
“Japan!”
He nodded. “Japan now? Or a hundred years ago? If you hopped in your time-traveling machine and arrived in Japan in the year 1923, you might land in the middle of the great earthquake.” They blinked up at him. “You see, all the events of the past are still . . . active. They remain in order of occurrence, existing in a linear path, beginning at a starting point and reaching all the way to this moment. Everything you’re doing in this moment is being recorded by time, whether you realize it or not.”
“Even this?” A boy in a San Diego Zoo shirt attempted a handstand, landing at an awkward angle in the grass.
“Yes, even that. Would anyone else like to tell us where they would go if they time traveled?” Several hands went up. As Julian got ready to call on someone, he happened to look up and catch the most fleeting expression on Hallie’s face. One he wasn’t sure he’d seen before and couldn’t really describe.
What was it? Certainly not . . . adoration. He wasn’t doing that well up here.
Still, it was hard to put any other description to her soft, dreamlike expression. The way she looked as if she were being held up only by a string.
He had to be misinterpreting the whole thing.
Or worse, what if that adoration was for Owen? Not him?
When Julian cleared his throat, it sounded like he’d just guzzled a handful of broken walnut shells. “All right, in keeping with the time-travel theme, on to the story.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “There was once a man named Doc Brown, who built a time-traveling machine out of a DeLorean. Does anyone know what a DeLorean is?”
Silence.
Thankfully, the quiet carried over into the story, and the children remained seated on the grass, listening with only the occasional outburst of giggles or interruptions, until Julian finished. When he finally glanced up from his rapt audience, their parents were standing behind them holding little coats. And he was pleased to see that many of them were carrying the discount cards for Corked. Natalie must have worked overtime to put them in everyone’s hands.
He watched Hallie slowly notice them, too, her gaze bouncing around to all the green-and-white cards. Then over at him. That’s right, sweetheart. I deliver for you.
I can’t help it.
“Okay, then. Story time has ended.” He shooed the children away. “Go get hosed off.”
They climbed to their feet in a way that reminded him of newborn giraffes. Most of them went straight to their parents. Julian was startled, however, when a pair of twins ran full speed in his direction and wrapped their skinny arms around his thighs. Hugging him.
“You’re getting me dirty,” he pointed out, surprised when his throat tugged. “Fine.” He patted their backs. “Very good, thank you.”
“Isn’t that the guy from that alien documentary?” one of the parents mused out loud.
Julian sighed.
Finally, it was over. Thank God.
When the kids left, he didn’t miss them at all.
Right.
Slowly, Hallie approached him, the beginnings of sunset creating a halo on top of her blond head. Over the course of his story time, she’d taken off her shoes, and her toes sunk into the grass now, tipped in all different colors. Red, green, pink. He could envision her sitting on the floor of a living room, trying to choose a shade, giving up and deciding a rainbow would give her the best of all worlds. When had that kind of indecisiveness started to come across as tremendously charming to him?
That mysterious look from earlier was no longer in her eye, and he wanted it back, wanted her to adore him again. How could he crave something that he’d obviously imagined?
“Thank you for doing that,” she said to him, her soft voice mingling with the crickets, the music still coming from the wine tent. “You were great. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. They say kids are drawn to authenticity. You really nailed the genuine vibe, calling them disgusting and all.”
“Yes.” In the distance, he heard the grass-licker relating Back to the Future to his parents, and a weird clunk happened in his chest. “People say this all the time, and I never believe them. But did you notice the children were also kind of . . . cute?”
She pressed her lips together, clearly suppressing a laugh. “Yes, I noticed. Why do you think I was compelled to ply them with chocolate? I needed them to like me.”
“I understand now,” he admitted.
Hallie spent the next few moments staring down at her feet. Why? He had to stuff both hands in his pockets to keep from lifting her chin. Owen was watching them from the shadow of the tent, too, and, Christ, was Julian so selfish that he would sabotage her potential relationship with the gardener when he wasn’t in a position to offer her one himself? No.