Four Seasons of Romance Read Free

Leo’s mother, worked part-time as a housemaid, and
the Taylors lived in a simple wood-plank home on Central Street, the wrong side
of town. The Woods, by contrast, lived in an elegant three-story Victorian
mansion on 147 N. Eagle Drive, high atop the bluff across the Connecticut
River.
    Yet Catherine couldn’t help noticing that, despite his hair
that was a bit too long and his pants that were a bit too short, Leo was
deliciously carefree in a way foreign to her. She felt as if the whole town was
always watching her, and they probably were—she was, after all, the judge’s
daughter. Leo, on the other hand, was free to do as he pleased and took full
advantage of it even if it meant turning his freedom into teasing and,
eventually, into trouble.
     
    *
     
    That first spring, Leo played many practical jokes on
Catherine at school, just to attract her, but it never got him the kind of
attention he wanted. As he was only ten and desperately in
love, Leo decided to up the ante. Before he left for school that day,
his mother found a dead mouse floating in the milk pitcher.
    “ Mamma mia !” she exclaimed.
Deborah was the daughter of an Italian immigrant, and she often burst into
spontaneous Italian when frightened or angry.
    “What is it, Mama?” Leo asked.
    “A rat.” She fished it out and
dumped it in the trash bin.
    More of a mouse , Leo thought, as he fished it out of
the bin the moment she wasn’t looking, wrapped it in newspaper and slipped the
parcel into his book bag.
     By the time he got to school, Catherine sat at the
desk in her impeccably prim uniform. He loved it—the way she sat
pencil-straight mere inches from him, her hair like a shiny brown waterfall down
her back—and she wouldn’t give him the time of day, but today was the day that
would change, or so Leo thought.
    He waited patiently until recess, though his fingers itched
to take out the parcel. As soon as the teacher dismissed them, Catherine
bounded out of her desk and joined her friends in the hall. Leo waited until
all the students had left the classroom, then he unwrapped the parcel and
thrust the little wet body into the hollow of Catherine’s desk.
    She kept her desk tidy—every pencil, notepad, and eraser was
in its place, so, when she came back from recess, reached for her writing
tablet and pulled out a dead mouse instead, it was a shock she had never
experienced. Her scream could have curdled the milk left in that pitcher; it
was so shrill.
    “What? What is it?” The teacher rushed over. “Catherine, are
you all right?”
    Tears streamed down Catherine’s face. “No! I’m not all right.” She pointed at the dead mouse, now lying on the floor. “That was in
my desk!”
    The horrified teacher clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, my
dear sweet Lord,” she exclaimed, and for a moment, the students thought she
might faint. Instead, she took Catherine by the arm (careful not to touch the
tainted area) and handed her a bar of soap and a water pail.
    “Miss Woods, I want you to march straight to the pump and
fill the pail. Then, you wash your hands for a good four minutes!”
    A sobbing Catherine nodded.
    “Teacher?” Leo’s hand shot up.
“I’ll carry the pail.”
    The teacher was too overwhelmed by the crisis to argue. “Very well.”
    When they were outside, Leo dropped the pail and looked at
Catherine, trying like hell to make the words come out but he didn’t say, “I’m
sorry.” Instead, he said, “I thought it would be funny.”
    She glared at him through her tears. “ You did this?”
    They were the first three words she had spoken to him in
weeks, and they were full of anger, hurt, and betrayal.
    Leo looked as awful as he felt; from the moment Catherine
had started to cry, he’d felt like the sorriest boy on Earth.
    “I did,” he said. “I thought it would be a good joke. I
didn’t mean to... I just wanted you to...” He trailed off, unable to express
his affection.
    Furiously, she picked up the pail he