Part 4:

IAN

Ian packed away his golf clubs and closed his trunk. He declined a trip to the bar and took himself home, parking his car in the attached garage. His old shoulder injury was giving him trouble today, at least that’s what he blamed his score on. Once upstairs he took a shower and changed into sweat pants and a tee shirt. He’d had a sandwich at the club and that should see him through until dinner.  Dinner, now that was a thought. He walked over to his bedroom window and looked out, hoping to see Patricia in her garden. He’d had an idea of asking her out to dinner. Not seeing her in the garden, he slipped on a pair of moccasins and padded down the stairs. He stopped himself in the kitchen, wondering what he was doing. He’d only asked a woman out once six years ago and it had turned out to be a disaster, a bitter divorcee he’d been introduced to at a friend’s dinner table. Of course he hadn’t known about the bitter part until they began to eat. He opened his back door and peeked out. There she was, going out with her bird feeder. He took a deep breath of courage and walked out in his garden.

Moving over to the fence, “Ah, Patricia…hello.”

“Hello, Ian, you’re not on the golf course today?” She hung the feeder up, giving it a twirl.

“Already been...um..I was wondering if you’d like…ah…to go to dinner with me?” There, he’d said it.

“When?” she replied, moving to the fence.

“Um, tonight? I know its short notice, but…” What a prat! He should have thought about this a little longer.

“Yes, I’d love to. What time should I be ready?”

“Oh…uh…about 6:30? Perhaps we could have a drink first and dinner around 7:00, if that’s okay with you.”

“Sounds lovely, dressy or not?”

“Dressy? Um, yes, a dress…” he smiled, feeling like a complete fool. What had she said?

“Well, I’ll see you at 6:30,” she smiled and backed away from the fence.

“It’s Italian…just in case you, uh....”

Patricia laughed, “I like most anything, Ian, and thank you for asking.” She turned to her door and looked back. He hadn’t moved and she waved before stepping inside.

Ian ran his hand over his face and turned away from the fence. Where, oh, where was that cocky young man he’d offered up at Piccadilly Circus? Had he ever been like that? Walking back inside, he put the kettle on for a cup of tea. He had been a cocky young man and fearless. Where had all that gone over the years?

He took his cup into his study and sat down before his computer. He couldn’t write now, his head was too jumbled up. Looking out his window, he thought of Mary and smiled, remembering the way she’d been when he first met her before the miscarriages and the surgery, her long blonde hair and green eyes. They’d had some good times before settling down. He’d taken the position at the university in Oxford and once they knew there would be no children, she threw herself into the social scene around Oxford. There were no more treks around Europe, no spontaneous trips to be had, everything revolved around the social calendar. He pressed his lips together. Perhaps the cockiness had eroded away, leaving a rather dull male specimen in its wake. He hoped he wouldn’t make a total fool of himself at dinner.

PATRICIA

Patricia closed her door and put the kettle on. She had a date! Her mind went immediately to her wardrobe. It had been a long time since she had been out with a man, not since Richard died three years ago.  She took her cup upstairs and opened her closet door. A dress, had she a dress? She thumbed through the hangers. Black? No, too much like a funeral. Tonight should be something bright. She hadn’t anything bright. Her eye fell on a turquoise silk blouse she’d bought on a whim. It still had the tags hanging from the sleeve. There was nothing to go with it. A navy blue dress...that would have to do. She took her bath and washed her hair, fiddling with it, making a half ponytail and letting the rest fall over her shoulders. Finally deciding she had made the best of what nature had left her with, she went downstairs and made herself a drink.

A bit of courage, Pat, that’s what you need. Pat, it had been along time since she thought of herself as Pat. Richard had always called her Patricia because he had a brother named Patrick. Pat, she would be Pat tonight if she remembered how. She would ask Ian to call her Pat.

Finishing her drink, she ran back upstairs and rinsed her mouth with mouthwash. Silly me, she thought, as if he…silly me! She blotted her lips, applied a touch of lipstick, squared her shoulders and smiled at herself in the mirror. You can do this, old girl.

Ian was prompt at 6:30, ringing her doorbell. Somehow she thought he’d just slip through the garden gate.

“Hello, Ian, “ she smiled, taking in the dark suit he had on. He’d tamed his hair.

“Patricia, you look lovely.” He’d never seen her in anything but her gardening clothes. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, I’ll just get my jacket and bag. Oh and, Ian, would you mind calling me Pat?”

Ian smiled broadly, “Pat it is.” He held her jacket and took her arm, escorting her to his car he’d pulled up in front of her house.

“The restaurant is on the edge of town. It's good. I have eaten there before,” offered Ian in way of conversation.

“I’m sure it will be fine, Ian. You eat out often, don’t you?”

“I guess I kind of got in a habit of going to the tavern everyday for a meal. I can cook basic things but not if I don’t have to.” He chanced a quick look and a smile.

“The problem I have is trying to cook for one. I’m not sure I could eat out every day. There’s the bother of having to get dressed. I’m afraid I’ve become a slug.”

“I wouldn’t call you a slug, Pat, you’re…comfortable. I mean…stupid thing to say.” He checked the traffic and turned a corner.

“No, not stupid at all, Ian. I’ve reached an age where I really don’t bother much. It’s not like I’m trying to attract attention anymore.” What a thing to say, she thought.

“Well, you attracted mine,” he said as he pulled into the parking lot.

Pat smiled to herself, waiting for him to come open her car door.

PAT AND IAN

They stopped at the bar for a drink, and settling on the stools, Ian lifted his glass to hers. “To Pat and Ian.”

“Ian and Pat.” She smiled and took a sip of her drink. “I wonder if they ever made it to Provence?”

“I should think they did, powers of persuasion, you know,” he smiled.

“You would really have come?”

“Yes, I would. There was nothing to keep me in London. I hadn’t anywhere else to go.”

“You hadn’t a home…anywhere?”

“No, I sold my parents' house while still at school in Oxford because I needed the money. I got quite a tidy sum for it. I was footloose and fancy free,” he grinned.

“And ready.”

“Oh, I was ready, all right, for anything.”

“I wish I’d known you then,” she said and tilted her head.

“You should have come to London.”

“Say I did, Ian, and you went to Provence with us.”

“Yeah, probably mine someday. Uncle Ronny doesn’t have a family. Come on, I have a key.” He opened the door and they all filed in, looking around.

“Oh yeah, well, follow me upstairs. There’s plenty of rooms. Um, I guess you’re paired up, right?”

“Nice as he is I don’t think I want to sleep with your uncle,” she said and blinked.

“It’s here,” he said and opened the door to his room. He watched her put her bag down and turn around. Taking her hand he said, “Come, you can use uncle’s bath.” And he showed her where the bathroom was off his uncle’s room. “There’s only two upstairs, you go first.”

“Ian…thank you.”

“Ta,” he smiled and closed the door.

Ian did a little pirouette in the middle of the room and bounded down the steps. He’d had a little squeeze and kiss in the van but things were looking good. Going through the kitchen he picked up an apple and went out the back door to check out the pool.

Later after they had all been in the bath the girls raided the fridge and came up with cheeses, bread from the van, tomatoes, several bottles of wine from the cellar and made a meal at the kitchen table. They paired up and wandered off for the afternoon. Ian, taking Pat’s hand, walked through the vineyards.

“Wow, I’ve never been to a vineyard before! A lot of work goes into a bottle of wine doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does...a lot of work and a lot of time.”

“Do you know all about this, Ian, I mean making wine and all?”

“Not all but a lot. I guess I’ve still got a lot to learn. Uncle Ronny is my wine mentor,” he smiled.

“This will be yours someday?”

“Yeah, kind of staggering, ain’t it?”

She stopped and turned to look at him. “It might be but I’ll bet you’ll be able to handle it.”

“I’ll need help. I won’t be able to live here by myself, you know. I’ll need somebody by my side.”

“Don’t you have a girlfriend, Ian?”

He smiled and tilted his head. “I’m not sure yet, I might have…I just might have.” He took her hand and they walked back toward the house.

That night they all piled in the van and went into the village for dinner. Pat felt she was really with Ian. He kept his arm around her chair, or held her hand, poured her wine. He managed to get her away from the table long enough to walk to the edge of the courtyard and kiss her.

“Ian, right here in front of everybody?”

“This is France, Pat, everybody kisses in France.” He held her in the circle of his arms. “I do, anyway.”

Back at the house Ricky and Marsha found the record player. Ian waltzed Pat outside, wanting to get her by herself.

“Are you enjoying this place, Pat?”

“You know I am. I think its cast a spell on me, or it’s the wine, or maybe…it's you.” She smiled lifting her chin.

“Oh, good, my incantations are working,” he grinned.

“Will you go to Germany with us?”

“Um no…I’ll stay here. I’ve been to Germany. Are you sure you want to go? You could stay here.”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that. I have plane tickets and stuff…how would I ever get home?”

He dropped her hands, walked over to the pool, sat down and dangled his feet in the water. He didn’t want her to go home…ever.

“Ian,” she said, quietly sitting down and taking off her shoes, “I really like you, Ian, I do but…”

“Do you really…how much, Pat?”

“This much,” she kissed him softly on the lips, “and this much,” kissing him again a little more seriously.

Ian grabbed her, pushing her back on the poolside and rolling on top of her. He kissed her longingly and deeply, “This much?” His voice was ragged.

“Yes, Ian.”

Ian took that yes and her hand, leading her in the house and up the stairs. He stopped outside of his bedroom. “You’re sure about this? I can sleep with uncle, but God, I don’t want to.” He held her to him tightly, running his hands over her back.

“I don’t want you to sleep with your uncle, either.” She reached out and opened the bedroom door.

Her friends were packing up the van and still Pat had not put her things together.

“Pat, are you about ready?” asked Marsha.

“Marsha, I’m not going.” She was sitting on the side of Ian’s bed

“What do you mean you’re not going? You have to! JANE, come here and talk to Pat. She says she’s not going with us.”

“Pat, you have to. What about Richard?” asked Jane.

“I can’t…I love Ian…I can’t go back to Richard…I’m not going with you. I’ve made my choice.”

“Richard will be devastated, Pat. You can’t do this! You were going to get married.”

“I’ll write him a letter. You can post it for me in the village. I’m not leaving Ian.” She got up and went downstairs to find a pen and some paper.

“What’s going on, Pat?” asked Ian.

“I’ve decided to stay with you, that is, if you still want me.”

Ian picked her up around the waist and swung her around. “You know I do, Pat, I love you.” He kissed her, setting her down.

“I have to write a couple of letters.” Ian led her into his uncle’s study and found some paper and ink.

He backed off, leaning against the doorframe. “Do you want me to leave so you can write in private?”

“No, I want you here.” Pat wrote her letters and sealed them in envelopes, one to her father and one to Richard. She shed a few tears, knowing how disappointed her father was going to be and how upset and angry Richard would be but when she turned and saw Ian sitting in a chair watching her, she smiled.

There were hugs and kisses and promises to write and the van began to move out of the yard. Ian slipped his arm around Pat, walked her into the house and shut the door.

Part 6- Another Road

IAN AND PAT

“Would we still be there, do you think?” asked Pat as she finished her last glass of wine.

“I should think so, Pat. I would have become my uncle.”

“We no doubt would have had children.”

Ian set his glass down and looked across the table. “I’m sure we would have,” he said softly. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, the dinner was excellent, Ian. Thank you for that and for…everything.”

Ian sat at the stoplight. “The road not taken.”

“I believe that was ‘the path not taken’,” smiled Pat. “I feel like we’ve almost taken it with our story, almost like we have a history together.”

“It would seem so, a rather intimate history there at the end. I’ll try and integrate that in my memory banks," he smiled.

“Did you go to Provence and live?”

“Yes ,eventually. I lived there for two years with my wife. The flat I crashed in when I didn’t get off the bus belonged to a girl I met that night named Mary. We lived in London for awhile then went to Provence. We came back and got married in Oxford, that’s where her family was, then we moved to France.”

“Why only two years? You loved that place.”

“Well, Mary had two miscarriages there, Pat. She went into a depression and I thought the best thing would be to take her back to England to her family. We settled in Oxford and her father got me on the faculty at Oxford. Our life just went on from there. I never went back to Provence except one time when my uncle died. He left the place to me, you know, and I went back and made arrangements to lease it out.

“I’m sorry, Ian, it must have been hard for you. Were there ever children?”

“No, she had to have a hysterectomy. You know you come to terms with things and life goes on.”

“How did you end up here?”

“It hasn’t been very pleasant for you, has it?”

“There were good years, a great many good years, in fact. There’s a car in front of your house. Do you know it?”

“That’s Charlie, my brother. What could he be doing out here this time of night?”

“I should just go in then, Pat.”

“No, Ian, you come with me,” she took his hand. “Charlie what are you doing here? Is something wrong with Lynn?”

“There you are, Pat. You look okay to me. Aw, Carol called all upset because she couldn’t get hold of you, expecting the worst, I guess.”

“Well,come in the house. I’m perfectly fine, as you see. We’ve been to dinner. This is Ian Whitecap, my brother, Charlie Morse.” Pat unlocked her door and turned on the lights in her living room.

Pat was a little upset her daughter had called Charlie out after 9:00. “You two fix yourself a drink. I’m going upstairs and call Carol. Ian…don’t leave.”

She laid her jacket and bag on the bed and picked up the phone.

“Hello.”

“Carol?”

“Mama, are you all right? I’ve been so worried! I tried to call you and got no answer and your cell phone didn’t answer.”

“I’m perfectly fine ,Carol. I’ve been out to dinner with a neighbor. Why in the world did you call out Charlie this time of night? You know he shouldn’t be driving at night.”

“Well, because you didn’t answer your phone. I thought you might have had a stroke or something. I was worried, Mama.”

“I’m sorry if you were worried, Carol. I didn’t take my cell phone to dinner. It seems rather rude when you’ve been asked out to sit and talk on the phone.”

“Asked out? Who have you been out with?”

“My neighbor, a very nice man named Ian. Now you’ve nothing to worry about and I must get back downstairs to Charlie and Ian.”

“You’ve been out with a man! Mama!”

“Carol, I’m not going to have that conversation right now, dear. I’ll keep in touch.” She hung up the phone. I’m not an errant teenager, for goodness sake! She noticed the high spots of color on her cheeks as she passed her mirror.

“Well, if everything is okay here, I’m going home,” Charlie announced, placing his glass on a table.

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive? Ian can take you home.”

“I’m not a child, Pat, and perfectly able to drive myself anywhere I want to, regardless of what the quack says. Now you’ve got company here that needs attention.” He gave her a thumbs up and angled his head toward Ian.

“Is everything all right with your daughter?” asked Ian.

“Yes, sorry about all this. Would you like another drink?”

“Only if you’re having one. Shall I?”

“Please, Ian. I’m glad you stayed.”

“You asked me to.”

“I did. Thank you for the drink. Now sit beside me. I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed tonight with you. I think you’re very special.”

“Only special when I am with you.” He laid his arm on the back of the sofa and picked up a lock of her hair, running it through his fingers.

Suddenly she could see that young man with his feet dangling in the water. “Ian, where do we go from here?”

“As far as you want to.” He looked up and met her eyes.

Pat moved over and softly kissed his lips. “And if I want to kiss you?”

“How much do you want it?” he whispered.

“This much.” Her arms went around his neck and he pushed her back on the sofa, kissing her deeply.

Smiling, she looked up at him. “It’s been a long time, Ian.”

“For me, too, but I think I remember how,” he grinned.

Later she lay in his arms in her bed, smiling at the wonder of it all. “I think we found that road at last, the one not taken.”

“Another road. Pat, do you fancy a lobster?”

“Lobster, at this time of night?”

“No, tomorrow. There’s a little place in Maine right on the water. A buddy of mine said it’s the best in the world. What do you say we go?”

Pat smiled and kissed his shoulder. “I’d say these two old travelers can do anything. Let’s go to Maine tomorrow.”

Ian hugged her close. They could indeed.

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