Читать книгу: «Matthew's Children», страница 2

As he drove past a burger joint, he realized he was starving. Hours had passed since that sandwich at noon. He longed to stop, but was afraid that if he did, he’d miss the opening kickoff. In the end, he arrived at the game five minutes early. The spring sky was cloudy, but rain didn’t appear imminent. As he headed for the bleachers, he spotted Gillian amid a group of other soccer moms. He settled on a bench as far away from her as possible.

He didn’t want his relationship with his ex-wife to be hostile—it wouldn’t be healthy for his kids. Yet he felt powerless to change things. Every conversation he tried to have with Gillian ended in an argument, with her making the same accusations and drawing the same—erroneous—conclusions as ever.

She hadn’t reacted to his arrival, yet he knew that somehow she had seen him. If ever he missed a game, she would be the first to call him on it.

His son’s team, the Blazers, was wearing blue-and-yellow uniforms. He searched for lucky number six, Derrick’s number, and spotted him goofing around with another kid, rough-housing on the sidelines.

Stuff like that never went on when Coach Keller was in charge, but of course Wally Keller wasn’t present today, and neither was his wife, Leslie. Andy Crosby, another of the soccer dads, was attempting to fill in. Judging by the flustered expression on his face as he jogged from one boy to another, giving instructions that were largely ignored, he wasn’t finding the job easy.

Coach Keller’s son, Daniel, was among the boys on the field, but Robert, Sarah Boutin’s brother, was absent. Matthew watched as Daniel, a large, athletic boy, took shots at the net. Matthew wondered if he’d been told what his father had been accused of. Did the other kids on the team know, too?

The referee blew his whistle and play began. The Blazers came out disorganized and weak, and five minutes into the game the opposing team scored. The team was hurting without their usual coach.

But something else was going on, Matthew realized. One of the Blazers’ midfielders went out of his way to jostle Daniel, who was playing center.

Well, that answered his question about how much the kids knew.

Poor Daniel.

By halftime the team was down two goals. The sun was low on the horizon and Matthew decided to use the short break in action to run to his car and grab his sunglasses.

To his discomfort, his ex-wife followed him.

Chapter Three

“HAVE YOU HEARD about Coach Keller?” Gillian asked. Her voice was stiff and censorious, as if somehow Matthew was to blame for the situation.

He slipped on his sunglasses. “Yeah, I have. Where’s Violet?”

“With a sitter.” Gillian sounded impatient. “Who told you about Keller?”

He wasn’t about to reveal that Wally Keller was now a client of the firm’s. “Who told you?” he countered.

“The soccer association sent out an e-mail. I didn’t see your address on the distribution list, though.” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Maybe you could ask them to add it for me. I would appreciate receiving e-mails about Derrick’s team.”

“Fine.”

He guessed she would have argued if she’d had any basis to do so. But since she claimed to want him more involved with Derrick’s life, how could she?

“Have you heard how Sarah’s doing?” he said. “I noticed Robert wasn’t here.”

“Neither of the Boutin kids was at school today, according to Derrick. I heard they were receiving counseling.”

“That’s good.”

Gillian shook her head. “I still can’t believe this could happen in our neighborhood. We need to screen our coaches more thoroughly from now on. It makes me sick to think that I trusted Wally Keller.”

“Maybe Keller isn’t responsible for what happened to Sarah.”

Gillian rolled her eyes. “Innocent until proven guilty.”

She’d heard him say the phrase so often the words had no meaning to her. Matthew couldn’t blame her. Most people he met felt the same way. Maybe because not that many of them had ever been accused of a crime they hadn’t committed.

“Please don’t tell any of the other parents you think Sarah is lying.”

“I didn’t say I thought Sarah was lying, Gillian.” But…it was possible.

In the course of his career, Matthew had seen it happen often enough. Children who were hurt or scared sometimes lied or made up scenarios for reasons that adults didn’t always understand. While Sarah’s sexual abuse seemed irrefutable, he wouldn’t automatically condemn Wally of the crime.

And he certainly felt sympathy for the Keller family. Leslie and her children didn’t deserve the grief that this was bringing them.

He didn’t like to think that Wally deserved it, either.

AFTER THE GAME, Matt waited on the sidelines for an opportunity to speak to his son. The boys lined up to shake one another’s hands, then each team huddled around their coach for a postgame wrap-up.

Due to his smaller size, Derrick was easy to pick out in the crowd. He appeared despondent after the loss, and left the field with his head low.

“Nice effort.” Matthew clasped Derrick’s sweaty shoulder. He referenced a play late in the second half when Derrick had set up the center for a goal. “That was a beautiful pass.”

For a second his son’s eyes gleamed. Then he shrugged. “We still lost.”

Unfortunately, that one goal hadn’t been enough.

Matt bit back the platitudes. You can’t win them all wasn’t something he wanted to hear after a bad court case. Neither was There’s always the next one or At least you gave it your best.

The truth was losing sucked. “You must be tired. I noticed you were playing shorthanded.”

Derrick nodded. “Some of the guys are thinking of quitting the team.”

Matthew needed a second to figure out why. “Because of Coach Keller?”

Derrick nodded. “Now we have to find a new coach.”

“What about the father who filled in today?”

“He doesn’t know a thing about soccer. He just stepped in at the last minute so we wouldn’t have to forfeit the game.”

“Oh.” Matt slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Derrick shot him a quick look, then grabbed his soccer bag.

Silence stretched between them, and Matt realized that his son was waiting for something. Oh, cripes. Derrick wasn’t hoping Matthew would volunteer for the job, was he?

“I wish I could help, but my work is too unpredictable.” He was making most of the games, but no way could he handle practices, plus all the prep work in between.

“I know that.” Derrick sounded angry. “I didn’t ask you to, did I?” He swung his soccer bag over his shoulder and started toward Gillian’s car. His mother was sitting in the driver’s seat, waiting.

Matthew didn’t want the evening to end this way. “How about we grab a slushy? I’ll drop you off at home later.”

Derrick paused. He seemed tempted. But then he shook his head. “I’ve got an English assignment due tomorrow. I’d better go straight home.”

“Sure.” Matthew swallowed, but the hurt didn’t go anywhere. It stayed lodged in his throat, its favorite hangout.

He was being dissed, but he couldn’t blame Derrick. How many times had his son asked him for a little time, and Matthew had put him off because of work? It was such a cliché, the workaholic father, the needy son. Yet the pattern had been set and he didn’t know how to change it.

All he could do was keep trying. “Okay. Get your schoolwork done and I’ll see you on the weekend.”

“You mean next weekend, right? I’m at home this one.”

“Actually, no. Check the calendar, son. You were with your mom last weekend, so it’s my turn.”

“Fine.” Derrick nodded curtly, then upped his pace to a jog. Matthew watched him go, wishing he’d been able to give his son a hug. But there’d been no opportunity.

Or none that he could find.

“I CAN’T FREAKIN’ BELIEVE this.” Wally Keller had refused a chair, and was pacing the small meeting room. He had a broad face, stocky body and intelligent but now frightened-looking eyes.

An average dad, Matthew thought. In terrifying circumstances.

It was Tuesday afternoon, one o’clock. Jane had offered Wally Keller coffee at the beginning of their meeting, and when he’d refused, she’d poured a cup for herself. She was leaning against the sideboard now, mug in one hand, eyes trained warily on their new client.

Matthew didn’t blame her for being cautious. Keller was radiating tension and anger. Innocent people tended to behave that way when they were falsely accused of a crime. Unfortunately, guilty people often reacted the same way.

“You think you’re doing a good thing, coaching your kid’s soccer team. A lot of parents can’t be bothered. They drop their sons at the field, then drive off to run errands or go back to work.”

Matthew glanced down at his notebook. Guilty as charged. Not so much now, but in the past he’d definitely been one of the parents Wally Keller was describing.

“And this is my reward.” He stopped moving and gripped the back of a chair with enough strength to drain the blood from his knuckles.

For a moment Matthew trained his eyes on those hands. They were average-size for a man, but to a kid they would seem mighty intimidating. For a moment he found himself speculating. Was Keller guilty?

But that wasn’t a productive line of thought.

“This must be hard, Wally.” He and Jane had agreed that since Keller knew him, Matthew would lead the conversation.

He wanted to begin by offering a bit of hope. “Just because the police called you in for questioning doesn’t mean that charges will be laid.”

“God, I hope you’re right.”

“But we still have to be prepared,” Matthew continued. “We have a lot to cover. Why don’t you sit down.”

Wally hesitated, then nodded. Once he was seated, Jane took a place at the table, too. With a subtle nod in Matthew’s direction, she picked up her pen, indicating that she would keep notes, leaving him free to concentrate on the questions.

She’d always been able to anticipate where he was going in a way none of his other colleagues managed to. He smiled appreciatively then turned to Wally.

“We need to establish your relationship with Sarah Boutin.”

“There was no relationship!” Wally’s face reddened.

“Would you know her if you saw her?”

“Well, sure. Her twin brother plays for the Blazers. She used to watch all the games and often showed up at practices, too.”

“The practices?” That was unusual. Mostly, it was just the players who attended those. “Why?”

“She said girls’ soccer was boring and she liked working out with the boys better. I used to let her join in on some of the drills and exercises.”

“So you treated her just like the other kids on the team?”

“Well, not always. Sometimes she would follow me around and try to talk.”

“Did you have time to do that?” Jane seemed surprised.

“Not really. When you’re running a practice, you’re pretty busy. Setting up exercises, watching the kids, providing feedback.”

“What did Sarah like to talk about?” Matthew asked.

“I didn’t pay that much attention. Like I said, I couldn’t. But I do recall that she talked about her dad a lot. Her folks split up not that long ago. I gather her father left town. It was pretty obvious she missed having the old man around.”

Matthew nodded. At the preseason soccer party Sarah and Robert’s mother, Claudia Boutin, had cornered him. She’d told him that she, too, would soon be divorced. There had been a few awkward moments when he’d wondered if she was hitting on him.

He’d been rescued from potential embarrassment when Wally had asked for a volunteer to barbecue burgers. Matthew had practically raced out to the deck.

“It was pretty obvious the kid missed having her dad around,” Wally continued. “Frankly, she was disruptive, and I was often tempted to send her home, but I felt sorry for her and I didn’t.”

From his expression, he clearly regretted that decision. So did Matthew.

“Were you ever alone with her?”

“I’ve been thinking about that, and I can only think of one time.”

Damn. He’d been hoping there’d been no times. “What happened?”

“A thunderstorm brewed up during practice last week. I had the kids phone their parents to pick them up.”

Matthew remembered that night. Gillian had been busy with Violet’s gym class, so she’d phoned to see if he could get Derrick. He’d been at a meeting on the other side of the city, too far to reach the field on time. So he’d called Derrick and suggested he catch a ride with a neighbor.

“Did Sarah and Robert’s mother show up to get them?”

“No. I didn’t realize it, but Robert had accepted a ride home from a teammate who lived on the same block as the Boutins. I guess he forgot about his sister. When the storm hit, she was the only kid left on the field. The lightning seemed close. It was safer for the two of us to wait in my car. But her mother never did show up, and eventually, I drove Sarah home myself.”

Matthew glanced at Jane and saw the same dismay in her eyes that he was feeling. It was an emotion he did his best not to reveal as he asked, “How long were you and Sarah alone together?”

“Fifteen minutes, maybe twenty. If you count the drive home, half an hour.” Wally seemed to understand the potential danger in this, because he exploded with anger again. “What was I supposed to do? There was lightning, for God’s sake.”

“Where was the assistant coach?” Matthew wondered.

“Gone home.” Keller’s voice was little more than a growl. “He’d checked off all the boys’ names, so he decided he could leave.”

“Didn’t he realize Sarah was there?”

Keller shrugged. “You’ll have to ask him that. I sure as hell did.”

“Right.” Matthew got up from the table. “I’m going to grab a coffee. Changed your mind, Wally?”

The man hesitated, then nodded. Matthew left the room. This would give Jane an opportunity to question Wally without appearing to interrupt him. When he returned, Walter was in the middle of an answer.

“We were settling in okay before this happened.” He accepted the coffee with a faint thanks.

Good. She was filling in some of the background info. Matthew sat back in his chair and let Jane continue. She asked their client about his job and how the kids felt about the move. When she was done, Matthew had some more questions about Sarah. Over an hour passed before the meeting was finally concluded.

Together he and Jane escorted Keller to the elevator. Just before he got on, Wally turned to him.

“Thanks for helping me out, Matt. Three nights ago I met with the board of the soccer association. I could see the doubt on their faces when I told them I was resigning and why. Half of them have already decided that I’m guilty. But I’m not.” He stared Matthew straight in the eyes, his expression sincere and earnest.

Then the elevator arrived and he left.

“Do you believe him?” Jane asked quietly.

“Yeah. I think I do.”

Jane gave him a skeptical glance before sinking back against the paneled wall with only partly feigned exhaustion. “That was tough.”

Emotionally, yes, it had been. But Matthew’s adrenaline was flowing. He hadn’t felt so up for a new case in a long time. He didn’t kid himself why.

It was great working with Jane again.

“Want to go for a drink?”

She looked surprised, but her voice was collected. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“I’m not married anymore, Jane. I believe it’s allowed.”

Chapter Four

SULLY’S TAVERN WAS A HALF flight of stairs below street level, just off Bushnell Park, and though it was a favorite haunt of trial lawyers, Jane hadn’t been there for over a year. She felt Matthew’s hand at the small of her back as she descended into the familiar, dimly lit haven. Matt guided her to one of the booths and her black skirt slid smoothly over the leather seat.

The music playing in the background was too subtle for her to place. She glanced around. Fewer than half the seats around them were occupied. She tented her hands on the clean, cool tabletop and waited until Matt was seated, too.

“It’s so quiet,” she said.

“Yeah. It’s weird to be here on a Monday.”

In the past they’d frequented Sully’s at the end of the work week. A bunch of them would gather here from Brandstrom and Norton—not just the partners but all the lawyers, and some admin staff, too. On Fridays the tavern was packed, the music loud and raunchy.

“It feels like a different place.”

“Too quiet?” Matt half rose. “We could go somewhere else.”

“This is fine.” The truth was she would feel uncomfortable wherever they went, because she hadn’t been in a social situation with him for a very long time.

She’d avoided Sully’s this past year in order to avoid him. In her heart she knew the reasons for his divorce had nothing to do with her. Yet, her conscience demanded that she keep her distance while he was going through the process of ending his marriage. Just knowing how she felt about him—and that her feelings had the potential to become much deeper if she let them—had been reason enough.

A server came and they placed their orders. Jane’s emotions steadied now that she had a drink in her hands. She swirled the glass and watched the ice cubes jostle in the translucent amber liquid.

Sometimes, when she was playing dangerous “what-if” games with herself, she wondered what would have happened if she and Matt had met each other much earlier—before Gillian. Jane was pretty sure he found her attractive. And she knew he liked her. So was she crazy to believe they might have ended up together?

Yes. She had only to recall the two failed relationships in her past for her answer.

“You’re avoiding eye contact.” Matthew sounded amused.

She lifted her head, glad he couldn’t possibly be aware of what she’d been fantasizing about. She tried to keep meeting his gaze, but eventually, she had to blink. The blue of his eyes was such a piercing shade. “You should be a judge. You would be impossible to lie to.”

“Is that what you’re planning to do?”

She smiled. “No. But admit it. Being alone like this. It must seem as strange to you as it does to me.”

All amusement drained from his expression. “I don’t want it to feel that way, Jane. I want us to be able to work together. To be friends.”

She swallowed. It didn’t sound like much. Yet it was. “It’s difficult not to remember the last time we were…”

Matt’s expression turned grim. He finished her sentence for her. “The last time we were alone in a public place together?”

“Yes.”

“I’m so sorry about that, Jane. I can’t tell you how sorry.”

His regret was deeply sincere, and it only made her respect him more. The scene hadn’t been his fault. It hadn’t been either of their faults. On the afternoon of their fateful lunch together, they’d been discussing business, a case that was before the court, when Gillian Gray had found them.

Jane could still picture the surprise on Matthew’s face. The gallant way he had immediately stood, reaching for a third chair so his wife could join them.

In those first seconds he hadn’t noticed Gillian’s fury. But Jane had. Because it had been directed at her.

“What are you doing with my husband?”

Nothing, Jane had been about to say. But before she could utter a word, Gillian Gray had grabbed a goblet from the table and hurled the white wine it contained into Jane’s face.

She would never forget the shock. The intense humiliation.

“Madam.” A server had been at her elbow almost immediately, leading her to the women’s washroom.

Behind her, she’d heard Matthew speaking to his wife. “Are you crazy?”

Not the right words to appease. Gillian had raged at him; she’d really let him have it. At the door to the ladies’ room, Jane had paused, unable to stop listening until Gillian—finally out of foul words and insane accusations—turned on her heel and marched out of the restaurant.

From across the room Jane had met Matthew’s gaze. She’d seen the abject apology in his eyes before he’d raced after his wife.

All of that would have been terrible enough. But Eve Brandstrom and two other lawyers from the firm had witnessed the entire debacle. Jane still didn’t believe Eve had said anything to anyone else.

But the other lawyers hadn’t been so discreet, and soon the story was circulating Brandstrom and Norton. Jane couldn’t go anywhere without being confronted with the speculation and curiosity in her coworkers’ eyes.

She had reacted by keeping her mouth shut and avoiding Matthew as much as possible. Since he’d done the same, it wasn’t difficult.

Now she couldn’t believe she was across the table from him again. She still wasn’t sure this was wise. He might be an unmarried man legally, but he would never be “available” where she was concerned.

“I should have apologized at the time,” Matthew said. “But I was afraid it would only feed the gossip at the office if anyone saw me talking to you.”

“I understand. I imagine you had enough to handle at home.” Jane had heard about Gillian’s subsequent obsessive calls to the office. If she couldn’t reach her husband, she would yell at the poor receptionist. A few weeks later, word got out that Matthew had spent the night sleeping in his office, on the couch.

Soon after came the announcement that Matthew and Gillian Gray had separated.

A year later, the divorce became final.

And now that the marriage was at last over, Jane had to know the answer to the one question that had puzzled her for so long. “Why did Gillian think we were having an affair?”

Surely, in this day and age, his wife had expected some of Matthew’s colleagues to be female. Why assume the worst?

Was it possible that Gillian’s feminine intuition had sensed Jane’s attraction—an attraction Jane had worked so hard to stifle—and had reacted instinctively against it?

“By that point in our marriage, Gillian was on the lookout for things to fight about. She noticed your name on my BlackBerry a few times, heard us talking on the phone, and it raised her suspicions.”

“But why?”

“Things hadn’t been going well between us for years. Opposites may attract, Jane, but they shouldn’t always get married. Especially not when they want different things from life.”

“You and Gillian were opposites?”

“In many ways. She was a drama major when I met her, and I found that exotic at the time. But after a while her incredibly emotional nature became draining.”

“I know what you mean by emotional.”

“Gillian could turn almost anything into an argument. That, too, was draining. Gradually I began staying later and later at work. After Derrick was born and Gillian opted to be at home full-time our problem became worse. Without the creative release of her career Gillian grew more restless and unhappy.”

“Did you consider hiring a nanny?”

“I’d just talked Gillian into that when she unexpectedly became pregnant with Violet.”

An old pain surfaced, but Jane refused to focus on it. This wasn’t about her. “How about you? Did you want a second child?”

“Secretly, I was thrilled, but I couldn’t admit it to Gillian or she would have accused me of getting her pregnant on purpose—which wasn’t the case. At any rate, when Violet was born, Gillian loved her as much as she loved Derrick, of course. She just transferred all her anger and resentment to me.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “The fights got worse. I began avoiding home even more, which only made Gillian angrier.”

A sad story, especially when Jane considered the children and how confused they must have felt. Still, she was reassured to hear that the Grays’ marital problems went back so far. It relieved some of her guilt. Not all. But some.

“Gillian resented my long hours at work. At the same time, she pressured me for money for home renovations and a family vacation in Europe. I guess I took the easy way out, opting to spend more hours at the office rather than deal with her moods at home. I figured once I had my promotion to partnership life would get easier.”

“But it didn’t.”

He shook his head. “As you know, they only pile on more cases once you make partner.”

“That’s true. But you can set boundaries,” she added gently. She’d never heard of Matthew turning down a case or refusing to work on a weekend.

“Gillian had legitimate complaints,” Matthew acknowledged.

“Did you guys consider counseling?”

“I was willing. She wasn’t.”

Jane grimaced.

“It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for the kids.” He skated his glass over the slick surface of the table.

He kept a photograph of his son and daughter on his desk. Jane had noticed it this morning as she’d passed by his office on her way to the supply room, which she no longer avoided.

“How are Derrick and Violet doing now?”

“Violet’s fine. She’s young and the new situation hasn’t upset her routine very much, since she always sleeps in her own room. But Derrick’s pretty angry.”

“At you?”

“Yeah. He definitely views me as the culprit. He rolls his eyes every time I mention anything to do with work. I’m struggling to achieve a better balance in my life, but sometimes my efforts seem futile. Especially when my son makes it obvious he’d rather be with his mother.”

“Matt…” It wasn’t like him to be so negative.

“Sorry. We’ve been talking about this too long.” He leaned over the table. “What’s new with you?”

She hadn’t expected the conversation to turn so quickly. “I joined a health club,” she offered weakly.

“So you said. Anything else? Are you dating anyone?”

The question was thrown in as if meant very casually, but to Jane Matt’s eyes burned as he waited for her response.

“Not right now.” She met a lot of men in her line of work, so there were always opportunities for dating. None of the men she’d gone out with this year had held her interest, though. They all fell short compared with Matt.

The truth was there had never been a man who affected her the way Matthew did. Not even her first love, in university; or the man she’d almost married five years ago. Even now she felt like a nervous teenager on a date rather than a competent professional sharing a drink with a colleague.

“We haven’t discussed the case yet,” she realized.

“We aren’t here to discuss the case.”

“We aren’t?”

“No, Jane, I hope—”

He stopped talking when his BlackBerry buzzed loudly.

“I thought I’d switched this off,” he muttered as he reached for the thing.

Jane assumed that was what he was about to do now, but a glance at the number changed his mind.

“It’s my son,” he said, rising from his seat as he spoke. “I have to talk to him. Can you give me a minute?”

“Sure.” Her lips felt stiff, but she forced a smile, averting her gaze rather than watching him walk away from the table.

She couldn’t help but think back to that other time over a year ago. This interruption was far less dramatic, but it was an equally effective reminder that where Matthew Gray was concerned, she had to guard her emotions very carefully.

MATTHEW WOULD HAVE interrupted his conversation with Jane for only two people in the world. Since Violet was too young to use the phone, that left Derrick.

“Hey, son. What’s up?” He strode through the pub and out the door. Lingering by the stairs, he plugged his free ear to block the traffic noise.

“I’m calling about the game on Friday.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Don’t bother.”

“Pardon?”

“We still don’t have a coach.”

So none of the other parents had volunteered. As the silence stretched out between his son and him, Matthew tried to think of some way he could volunteer himself. But to commit to practices, as well as games, was more than he could manage.

Surely saying no was better than promising something he couldn’t deliver.

“I wish I could help you out, son. But—”

“Yeah. You have to work. I get it.”

He sounded so jaded. Matthew felt both defensive and guilty. “It costs a lot of money to send you to Mountain View Academy. And to buy you and your sister all the latest—”

“I said I got it, Dad. You probably don’t know enough about soccer to coach it, anyway.”

That was true, which only made him more frustrated. “I’m sure I could learn.”

“What’s the point? You’re too busy, remember?”

Matthew inhaled deeply. Reminded himself he was the adult here. “I’m sure you must be disappointed, but the soccer association will find you a new coach soon. Hopefully, one who actually understands the strategy behind the game.”

“Yeah. Right.” Clearly, Derrick wasn’t holding out any hopes.

Matthew longed to say something that would make his son feel better. But there was no quick fix to this situation. Not for any of them.

“I’ll phone the president of the soccer association and see what their plan is.”

“Don’t bother.” Derrick hung up, as miserable as he’d been at the beginning of the call.

Matthew was left with the knowledge that he’d disappointed his son yet again. He sighed, then pocketed the BlackBerry, this time making certain to turn it off first.

He met Jane on her way out and could barely contain his disappointment. “I thought we might have a second drink.”

“One was enough for me. And don’t worry. I covered the bill.”

Her gaze barely skimmed his face before she glanced away. Why was it so darn hard to get her to look him square in the eyes these days?

And he hated that she’d paid for their drinks.

He fell into step beside her as she headed back to the office. “This was supposed to be my treat. You know what that means?”

She raised her eyebrows questioningly.

“I pick up the tab next time.”

“Next time?”

“Damn right next time.” He let himself touch her elbow as they crossed the street. It was all he could do to let go of her once they reached the other side.