VI. Boston

"Isn't this a beautiful night, Adam?"

Well, he guessed it was. From the corner of his eye Adam vaguely saw how Fiona indicated the sky. But how was he supposed to look there when she was standing so close to him? So close that he didn't need to look up. So close that he saw all the stars twinkling here in her face: bright silvery spots reflected by her eyes that seemed to consist only of huge round black pupils with just a small band of light blue surrounding them.

Those eyes, those mesmerising eyes, the whole sky was captured in them—or was it heaven? And then Fiona smiled. Heaven.

Adam's mouth was on hers even before his hand had cupped her cheeks. It was hasty, sloppy, inexpert, but it was a kiss, a kiss, a kiss, a kiss; he was kissing Fiona, and she...was kissing back.

She was kissing back.

They broke apart when realisation sank in, hit them both at the same moment; Fiona flushed, Adam breathless.

"Oh God, I'm sorry," he stuttered. "I shouldn't have...I'm sorry."

She gave him a smile. A new one. One that looked...mischievous. "I'm not," she said. "If this is why you dragged me out here, you should have done it much earlier."

Adam's lips formed a small 'o' that slowly spread into a huge grin. "I have to admit it crossed my mind, but I wasn't planning on anything." He laughed at her incredulous face and added, "Seriously!"

"So you had completely honourable intentions when you brought me out here, where we're all alone and no one can hear you...telling me what, Adam?" She smiled again, coyly this time, and then looked expectantly at him.

It was time. Now or never, Cartwright, Adam thought, and he cleared his throat that once again seemed to be strangled by that infernal bow-tie.

"Um, Fiona, you know I'm going to graduate next year?"

"Yes?"

"And I...well, I suppose I'll be leaving Boston then." He paused, looked at her, waited for a reaction. This all was going so fast suddenly.

"Do you have plans for then? Are you going back to your family, to the ranch?" she inquired.

"I don't know yet. Honestly I...well, I know my father wants me to come back, but somehow..." He didn't know how to put it into words. There was a longing, for more, for further, for wider—not for back. "Would you want to live on a ranch in Nevada?" he finally asked.

Fiona looked surprised, then frowned and searched his face. She blinked. "I...yes. I think I would. If my family were to live there, I wouldn't mind. And I'd love to meet your family, Adam."

She looked at him like a pupil at her teacher trying to figure out if she had given the right answer. But this wasn't a test, was it?

"Oh, I want to see my family, I really do. I miss them a lot. But I also..." He gazed into the night. Behind the garden, he knew, was the sea. Well, not exactly behind the garden, but near enough to smell the faint scent of salt and wanderlust. "There's so much to see out there," he said, gesturing into the dark. "So much to explore, to learn, to try out. I'd love to see places I've only read about: London, Rome, Paris, Cairo... Aren't you curious about the world, Fiona?"

She considered him a moment. "No," she said. "I don't know what would be different in London—although I've heard they have wonderful theatres there. But they wouldn't show other plays than our theatres, would they?"

"I guess not. Or maybe they would, but that's not the point." He shook his head, frowning. "What I want to know is how people live there, how people think there, what they do, and how, and..." He trailed off, again not able to put into words what was driving him, and gave Fiona a questioning glance.

"Oh, it doesn't mean I wouldn't go there, Adam," she said brightly. "If my...family would live there, I'd be happy to make my husband a home there just as I would do it here."

"So you would follow your husband wherever he wanted to go?"

"Of course! That's why people marry, isn't it? To live together. To support each other."

"And what do you want?"

"What do you mean: what do I want?"

"What's your dream, Fiona? What do you want from life?"

"I want to find a man I can love and who loves me." She blushed, but looked him straight in the eye. "I want a family, children, a nice home."

"Is that all?"

She laughed. "Adam! Is there more someone can wish for? A happy life, no less. What more could I want?"

"I don't know. A goal? A purpose? Adventures? There are so many things life can offer." Again, his gaze was drawn to the dark garden, and the promises that lay beyond it. "Maybe that's why I'm hesitant to go back to Nevada: I'm afraid I'll find life boring there."

"Life in Nevada doesn't have to be boring, Adam; it doesn't have to be boring anywhere." Fiona closed the distance between them and breathed a kiss onto his cheek. "Is that boring, Adam?" Another kiss. "I don't think so."

She took a step back, giving him time to compose his features. Her face was no longer that of a doll, but of a woman who knew what she wanted, Adam suddenly realised.

"I don't want to lead a boring life either, Adam," she went on. "I would be a good wife, I would raise my children well, and keep a good house; but I know there's more required for a fulfilling life: I would sing for my husband, and read poetry to him. We would have soirees and dinner parties; we would go to the theatre and to the opera, and we would read books and talk about them. We would visit galleries and exhibitions, and museums. That's the kind of life I want to live, that's the kind of wife I want to be: the kind of wife a man would want."

She looked at him, her eyes wide, her smile inviting, then she pulled her lower lip between her pearly white teeth before she lowered her head and whispered, "The kind of wife you would want, Adam?"

Adam gazed at her, amazed, and shook his head. "No, I wouldn't want that."

What he had said didn't break through the turmoil of his agitated mind until about three seconds later, when he stood there—suddenly alone with a burning left cheek—and watched Fiona's very rigid back as she rushed back into the house. The sound of her sharp slap still rang in his ear, as well as her cry, "How dare you, Adam Cartwright!"

She was right: how dared he?

ooOoo