Free Window on Yesterday by Joan Hohl

stand of snow-laden trees beyond the frost-rimmed pane.
    “You’re nice.”
    Alycia’s hair swirled to one side as she swung to look at him. “Why, thank you!” Her voice held a note of surprise, her eyes glowed with pleasure. “You’re nice, too.”
    “And the restaurant is nice.”
    “Yes.” The surprise in her voice changed to laughter.
    “And the view’s nice.”
    “Yes.” Alycia laughed openly.
    “And I’m talking like an idiot.”
    “No!” She set her hair swirling again with a sharp shake of her head. “Never an idiot.” Impulsively reaching across the table, she grasped his hand. “You were deliberately teasing me to ease any leftover strain, weren’t you?” A responsive thrill shot up her arm when he turned his hand and curled his fingers around hers.
    Sean’s smile was slow and devastating. “Yes.” He shrugged. “I was afraid you were feeling awkward about what I said in the car.”
    Alycia felt the effects of his smile in every one of her pulse points. “I was, just a little,” she admitted, absently lacing her fingers with his and thrilling to the erotic sensation of her skin sliding against his.
    “And now?” Sean asked, brushing his fingertips over the back of her hand.
    “And now I feel comfortably relaxed and ready for dinner.” Alycia shivered in response to his stroking fingers.
    “And the conversation you promised me,” she added in a soft, breathless tone.
    “It’s yours.” Sean motioned to a hovering waiter.
    * * * *
    Though their dinner was delicious, the conversation was the real meat of their meal. They tested the water during the appetizers.
    “You’ve... ah, never been married?” Alycia probed delicately in between sips of her soup.
    Sean shook his head and popped another of his oysters Rockefeller into his mouth. “How long did your marriage last?” he asked, after devouring the morsel with undisguised relish.
    “Two whole years,” Alycia answered tautly.
    “Oh.” Though he gazed at her intently, Sean let the subject drop and concentrated on his oysters.
    The conversation deepened during the entree.
    “What happened to your marriage?” Sean inquired too blandly as he pried the succulent white meat from one half of a large lobster tail.
    “It ended.” Alycia shrugged, and broke a piece off the end of her poached salmon.
    “I deduced that all by myself,” Sean said dryly, spooning sour cream onto his baked potato. “Why did it end?” He gave her a piercing look. “What went wrong?”
    “Everything.” Alycia sprinkled salt on her parsley potatoes and carefully chose a clarifying explanation. “We were both much too young for the responsibility of marriage,” she went on when he continued to stare at her.
    “Can you talk about it?” Sean casually poked his fork into his salad. “I mean, does it still hurt you to talk about it?”
    Alycia smiled, and finished chewing a bite of tomato. “No, it doesn’t hurt me to talk about it. What do you want to know?”
    “Everything.” Sean coolly dipped sweet lobster meat into hot cocktail sauce.
    To her amazement, Alycia found that once she started talking she couldn’t stop. Beginning slowly, hesitantly, she related the sorry circumstances of her marriage. Except for the murmured observation or comment, Sean was quiet throughout her narrative. When she had finished, Alycia sat back, stunned by the realization that she had consumed every morsel of her food but hadn’t really tasted any of it.
    “Did you enjoy your meal?” Sean’s eyes gleamed with inner amusement.
    Alycia smiled vaguely and shrugged. “I suppose I must have.” She glanced at her empty plate. “But I’m not sure.”
    Sean treated her to his slow, devastating smile once more. “I think perhaps you were too caught up in pouring out to notice what you were taking in.”
    “Perhaps,” she conceded, returning his smite.
    “You’re not accustomed to talking about your private life, are you?”
    Touched by the tenderness and