Love Letters From Ladybug Farm - Donna Ball [67]
Lori frowned a little as she tugged a corner of the blanket over her partly exposed thigh. “It’s Mark—right?”
“Right. The guy who, uh ...”
“Right,” she said.
He came inside, and she noticed he was holding a manila envelope in the hand that was not in a sling. He said, “I won’t stay. I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now.”
She shrugged dispiritedly.
“I just wanted to bring you this.” He took two quick steps toward the bed, thrusting the envelope at her. “I spoke to Kryker,” he began.
She sat up straighter, taking the envelope from him curiously. “You talked to my professor?”
“Our professor,” he corrected. “Anyway, I told him what happened, and he said if you can e-mail your exam to him before his office closes at four, he’ll grade it with the rest of the finals. They’re essay questions,” he explained, “and all the tests were different so there’s no way you could cheat. Not that you would,” he added quickly.
Lori opened the envelope and pulled out the papers, her eyes widening with wonder. “You did this for me?” She looked up at him. “But why? I told you, I don’t blame you for the accident. It was my fault.”
He shrugged. “I just know how I’d feel if I’d worked all year and then lost out right before the end of the semester.”
“Oh, I ...” For a moment she couldn’t finish. “Thank you.”
He smiled. That was when she noticed that he was, as her mother had observed previously, kind of cute.
“Well,” he said. “I won’t stay. You’d better get to work.”
He turned for the door, and Lori said quickly, “Are you finished? With your exams, I mean?”
“Just about,” he said. “I have one more, but it’s just a matter of showing up.”
“Well, maybe, if you want to, I mean, and if you don’t have to study,” Lori ventured, “you could come back sometime and we could talk?”
He seemed to consider that. “Are you allowed to eat pizza?”
She grinned. “Pepperoni and mushroom?”
He gave her a thumbs-up. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”
Lori was still grinning as she opened her laptop, closed the e-mail program, and started her exam.
Cici closed the phone and returned it to Richard. “Lori says under no circumstances are we to get there before noon. Apparently her professor agreed to let her take her final from the hospital, so that’s what she’s doing.”
“Is she well enough to do that?”
“Apparently so.”
The quick worry lines that had appeared between Richard’s brows smoothed, and he smiled as he tucked a strand of Cici’s hair behind her ear. “Well, well,” he murmured. “Whatever shall we do with the extra time?”
They were having breakfast at a sidewalk café on the downtown mall, a tree-lined, brick walkway flanked by shops, galleries, and eateries of every description. The morning sun cast dappled shadows over the iron lacework of the table and the brilliant blooming flowers that tumbled over the sides of planter boxes on either side of the street. Cici returned a smile that was hopelessly coy and picked up her to-go coffee cup. “Let’s walk,” she said.
He was surprisingly agreeable. He took his own coffee and twined his fingers through hers as they started down the street. “This is charming,” he said. “Reminds me of Marseilles, in a way.”
Cici sipped her coffee. “I’ve never been. But it’s a little like Paris, with the shops and the flower boxes.”
“We should have gone to Paris together.”
She shrugged. “You were too busy going to law school. And I was too busy changing diapers.”
“I’ve missed you.”
She tried not to choke on a mixture of coffee and laughter. “Come on, Richard. All we ever did was fight.”
“Not all,” he reminded her. “And I miss fighting with you. No one else in my life has the balls to stand up to me like you do.”
“I don’t believe that. And even if I did, I’m not sure it’s a compliment.”
Now he laughed. “Since when did we have to worry about complimenting each other?”
She stopped to peer into the window of a not-yet-open fashion boutique. “Cute top,” she said, pointing. “I’ll bet Lori would