He knew he kept repeating that as if it were a mantra. Maybe he’d believe it one day.
Even if she did stay,which she wouldn’t, he had nothing to offer. The residents of Smoky Hollow chose their lifestyle for the most part. They didn’t get into it by default. Webb Francis had done his stint in New York and San Francisco, and except for himself, was probably the most traveled of anyone in town. But they weren’t the only ones who had traveled and seen the world.
When the food came, Angelica relaxed a little commenting on how delicious the pot roast she’d ordered tasted. Gradually he could feel the tension slip away. Not wanting to risk a return, Kirk tried to keep the conversation into noncontroversial topics.
“I appreciate your asking me to dinner,” she said when they both finished. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“About?”
She studied him a moment then said, “My agent has a fantastic opportunity to do a tour in Europe in the fall. Six months ago I would have jumped at the chance with no hesitation. Now—I don’t know.”
He dropped his gaze to the last of the iced tea in his glass. Another reason she’d never fit into his niche. She was a world-class concert violinist, with the opportunity to tour Europe. He looked out the window at the empty street, the trees that crowded nearby. Nothing like the capitals of Europe. Nothing he had or could offer would ever compete.
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
“I have no idea. But I have to decide soon. Another layer of pressure. I wanted to come here this summer to gain some perspective. I’m flat burned out with everything. I know my parents love me and want the best for me. But it’s as if they push, push, push all the time.”
“It sounds like what they want is for you to follow the path they’ve laid down. Adult children can’t always do that and be true to themselves and what they want. My granddad wanted my father to be a farmer. He tried, hated it and went to work in the mines which he liked, odd as it seems. He’d probably be alive today if he’d become a farmer. Then Granddad wanted me to be a farmer, but that’s not the life I want. I don’t mind helping him out from time to time, but that’s not something I’m going to do. Hard for him to accept, but he has. If I ever get married and have children, I will not expect them to go into construction or become a sculptor. Each person has to choose his or her own paths in life. Your decision this summer is, which path are you going to choose?”
For a moment he thought she might say she would choose to remain in Smoky Hollow. She looked out the window at the town and a small smile tugged at her lips. Small and rural, Smoky Hollow had all he wanted. But how could it compete with New York City, or London or Paris?
“I’ll have to decide, won’t I? No more coasting along.”
He wished he could magically find something to say that would have her embracing Smoky Hollow. Have her at least think about staying. Think about him.
Angelica was a long time falling asleep that night. She wandered in the music room and played a few songs, but was too restless to continue. Looking out the window, she saw the light on in Kirk’s studio and wished she dared go over and watch him work. But her heart couldn’t bear another directive like the other night to go home.
The problem was she wasn’t sure exactly where home was. Was it her apartment in New York? The old brownstone home she’d grown up in in Boston? Or was it someplace she hadn’t found yet, where she would feel a connection, a rightness that settled all questions.
She liked Smoky Hollow, but how could she make a living here? She was a concert violinist, not a teacher. She’d trained for years, but the thought of more concerts, more practice, more of the same made her tired.
Yet the idea of achieving a tour of Europe in the fall brought a heady rush. It’d be quite an achievement at her age. Hadn’t she been working toward something like that her entire life? Could she turn her back on that?
Kirk was right. She stood on a precipice, her entire future ahead of her. But for a moment, she did not want to return to the forest of the familiar. She wanted to be brave enough to step out in a new direction and risk falling flat on her face.
Where was her place?
The next morning Angelica awoke with a vague feeling of dread. Realizing it was apprehension at time running out on her decision for the future, she slowly rose and tried to think of ways to make the right choice. There were so many variables.
First her parents. She’d done her best to please them all her life. Kirk was right, it was time she made her own decisions. Yet she didn’t want to hurt them.
Then her agent. He’d taken her on right out of the conservatory, green and new. Worked with her to build a career that others envied. One from which she fled this summer as the pressure built.
She was still dithering about her choice when the phone rang shortly before ten. She hesitated long and hard before answering. She was not ready to give her decision.
“Angelica.”
Her father was calling.
“Hi, Dad.” Had her mother prevailed upon him to call?
“Your mother told me of your conversation. Honey, we want what’s best for you. But it’s time you decide that for yourself. Only you will know what’s best for you.”
She was dumbfounded. They were leaving the decision to her? Just like that? No pressure? No arguments on what they knew was best for her? She didn’t know what to say.
“Tell me about the place you’re staying this summer,” he invited.
Slowly she began to tell him about meeting the warm and friendly residents of this small town. Of the two children she was fast coming to adore. Of Hiram Devon and his amazing voice.
