Sheila went on to tell him about the program and how studying in France had always been a dream of hers. She loved French culture and had jumped at the chance to apply for the program when she first learned of it from her advisor. As she spoke, Carter looked up and listened without interrupting, for he was rather enjoying himself. It was still quite astonishing to him that this Sheila and the one he thought he had known were one and the same. He would have been content to let her do all the talking, but after a time, she stopped and turned the conversation toward him. What, she wondered, were his plans for the immediate future? The question caused Carter some unease, and he stood there awkwardly for a moment before letting on that he was thinking about doing some traveling of his own around the same time as she was—perhaps to Italy.

Sheila smiled.

“Well, you know,” she pointed out, “Italy and France are right next to each other.” Then she gave a little laugh, and in it Carter heard the echoes of the little girl he once knew.

“What’s the matter?” he said. “Why are you laughing?”

“I was just thinking,” she said, “but wouldn’t it be funny if after all these years of living next door without seeing one another that someday we met up in Europe?”

“I guess stranger things have happened,” he mused. It was a funny thought. But just then he thought of Elena, and his cheeks went hot. As idle as the conversation might have been, he was suddenly deeply ashamed of himself for having let it distract his thoughts from their real purpose. He felt as though he had betrayed Elena in some way.

Perhaps sensing the sudden change in his mood, Sheila looked at him in an odd way before lifting her elbows off the porch railing and standing up straight.

“Well, it’s getting late,” she said, giving her arms a gentle stretch. “I guess I’d better be getting inside.”

“Yeah, me, too,” said Carter softly.

“I’ll be home all summer,” she told him. “Maybe we’ll see each other again.”

“Good night, Sheila,” he said.

“Good night, Carter.”

A short while later, Carter stood at his bedroom window, looking out at the house next door. As always, he was thinking about Elena, but then his thoughts turned to Sheila, and then to the two women in the bar, and then to the long, hot summer yet to come. Carter’s life at the moment was nothing more than a bundle of unanswered questions. Of one thing, however, he was quite certain.The straight and narrow path he had pledged to tread on his way to Italy would be one fraught with peril.

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 4