The Secrets of Water

by Wendy Nelson-Sinclair

  “Well, I can’t say that I blame her. If I was in her position, I would wait too—”

  “Oh, shit!” Darcy’s smile quickly transformed to a scowl. “You have got to be kidding me!” Darcy roared, instantly alarming Lizzie.

  “What? What is it?” Lizzie asked as she turned towards the front of the restaurant, following the line of Darcy’s sight.

  “Hello, Ladies!” A familiar blonde head quickly approached them. Less than a second later, Sebastian Sanders, Virginia Bennett’s former advisory student, stood next to them. Without asking, he plucked an empty chair from a nearby table and sat down. “How lovely it is to run into you both.” He glanced at Darcy before turning his attention towards Lizzie, giving her a wide, toothy smile.

  “What the hell are you doing here, Sebastian? Are you looking to ruin another evening?” Darcy barked.

  “No,” Sebastian bit back before returning his attention to Lizzie. “No, I was here eating with a colleague and I happened to see you,” he explained. “I wanted to come over to talk to you, Lizzie. I want to apologize—”

  “Don ‘t fucking bother,” Lizzie snapped, rolling her gaze away from his. “You’ve done enough damage to last a lifetime. There is nothing that you have to say that I want to hear.” She turned away from him as she reached down for her bag. Retrieving her wallet, Lizzie threw several bills onto the table and curtly wished Darcy goodbye. “I’m sorry that I have to cut dinner short. There is somewhere else that I need to be. Somewhere where I won’t have unwanted people bothering me.” Lizzie power-walked out of the restaurant. She was just past the door and headed towards her car when her name rang out in the chilly night air.

  “Lizzie!” Sebastian called, running at breakneck speed. Lizzie heard the skipping sound of his feet scuttling across the pavement as he ran to catch up with her. “Lizzie, please! Just wait. I need to talk to you!” The sudden presence of his hand upon her shoulder made her vision go red.

  “Do not touch me, Sebastian!” Lizzie spun on her heel and hissed the full amount of her venom at him. “Do not touch me!” She brusquely threw his hand off her shoulder. “And most of all, do not speak to me. You’ve done enough damage and I won’t let you do more! I want you out of my life! There is nothing that you could ever do or say to make up for what you’ve done.” Lizzie screamed as she fought back the hot, burning sting of tears.

  “Get the hell away from her!” Darcy shouted close behind them. “Get the hell away from her before I call Bobby to come and kick your ass!” Darcy added with a snarl. Lizzie looked Sebastian squarely in the eye before she opened her car door and climbed inside. Firing up the engine, she sped out of the parking lot, leaving Sebastian behind to face Darcy’s wrath.

  As she drove home, she couldn’t shake what she had seen when she looked into his eyes for what she hoped was the final time. In those bright blue depths, she saw pain, shame, and regret. The regret, she thought, could only be from her refusal to hear him out. No doubt that the pain and shame stemmed from what Virginia would have thought about his behavior. Other than Lizzie, Sebastian was the only other person that shared a close relationship with Virginia. Her grandmother often referred to him as her grandson. Each time Virginia referred to him as such, Lizzie’s cheeks flamed red with hope.

  Lizzie was sixteen when Sebastian first appeared on their doorstep. He was a freshman and a student in Virginia’s British History class. Virginia advised him through his bachelor and master’s degrees and was integral throughout his doctoral thesis research. From the time that Lizzie first opened that door, her heart belonged only to him.

  Sebastian quickly became a part of the family, and Lizzie’s friend. Through each conversation, each stolen glance his way, and every devastating smile, Lizzie suffered in silence as Sebastian went through a series of girlfriends. The worst of all was Sheila Lawrence. Sheila was from Tennessee and thought herself far superior to everyone—especially Lizzie.

  From moment Sheila first entered their house, she constantly ordered Lizzie about while Sebastian remained blind to Sheila’s authoritarian behavior. He and Sheila were together from Lizzie’s senior year until Lizzie left for her overseas research-study abroad program. When she left without saying goodbye, she had planned on letting him go. Living without him would be terrible but it wouldn’t be impossible. Important things were at great risk if she didn’t walk away, leaving him a part of her past. Sebastian, however, shattered her plans when he accompanied Virginia to Cumbria, a part of the Lake District in Northern England where Lizzie was working to help catalog the correspondence and known writings of the English writer, Edith Blackwell. As they sat at his grandmother’s kitchen table, Sebastian’s eyes looked just as they did tonight.

  Filled with part hatred, part remorse, Lizzie longed to reclaim a part of her life that was hopelessly over. To see Sebastian so undone struck her and for a moment, she almost stayed to hear him out. Her sense won in the end, though. As she made her way through the dying traffic and pulled her dark blue Prius into the driveway, Lizzie vowed to not give Sebastian Sanders anymore thought as angry tears streamed from her eyes. It was a vow that she miserably failed to keep.

  ************

  After entering her home, Lizzie took her backpack and purse to her office. The office once belonged to Virginia, but Lizzie made it her own, finding it easiest to be close to her grandmother within that cramped, tidy space. Leaving the office, Lizzie headed upstairs to shower. Once she’d washed away the day away, she put on an over-sized T-shirt, a pair of flannel pajama bottoms, and a pair of fuzzy, aloe-infused socks. Wrapped in a cloak of comfort, she headed downstairs to make a pot of tea. Once it was ready, Lizzie poured the tea into her favorite lime green thermos along with milk and a copious amount of sugar. With her favorite mug in hand, she carried both to her office to do some more work before it was time to go to bed.

  Try as she might, Lizzie could not find the focus to work. Instead, the memory of Sebastian’s haunted eyes ate away at her. Part of her wanted to not feel guilty at refusing his offer. The other part congratulated her for sticking to her guns. Lizzie had refused to let him drag her back into something that she wanted to forget just to ease his conscience. If he wanted peace, he shouldn’t have acted as he did. That horrid night when Sebastian single-handedly ruined her life, was made that much worse when cancer finally robbed her of the person most important to her.

  ************

  At the beginning of the evening, Virginia was lying in her bed as her hospice nurse, Lorraine, worked around her. Lizzie had been adamant about staying home but Virginia ultimately convinced her to go.

  “Just because my time is coming to an end doesn’t mean that you have to give up living,” Virginia said lovingly as Lizzie sat on the edge of the bed beside her. “I want you to go to the party and have a good time. When you come back, you can tell me all about it. Seeing it through your eyes will be an adventure.” With that Virginia shooed her off and Lizzie headed to the Museum.

  Darcy met her outside the front door, wearing a dress colored in a festive shade of green and a Santa hat atop her head.

  “I got one for you too!” Darcy squealed as she pulled a matching hat from her bag and set it firmly upon Lizzie’s head. “Now we can’t lose each other,” Darcy added before the two of them went inside.

  When they entered the main exhibit hall, both women noticed that almost everyone wore the same hat. From Lizzie’s vantage point, the crowd was nothing but a sea of ugly Christmas sweaters, matching hats, and tacky holiday costumes. There were several Santas, a few Elsa’s, a Scrooge here and there, and much to her surprise, one single Easter Bunny.

  After getting a glass of punch—alcoholic for Darcy, non-alcoholic for Lizzie—both mingled amongst the crowd. For the next hour, Lizzie spoke animatedly with several of her fellow teachers from the college, all who also worked as researchers at the museum. Lizzie was listening to the anthropology professor discuss a set of ancient petroglyphs discovered in Morocco when Director J
acobs spoke into a buzzing microphone.

  “Is this thing on?” The microphone hummed loudly as Jacobs tapped loudly on the mouthpiece. “Hello, and thank you all for coming tonight,” Jacobs began the same speech he gave every year, thanking both faculty and guests to the celebration. “I hope everybody brought their checkbooks with them tonight!” Jacobs laughed briefly and went on to give his fundraising speech before handing over the microphone to those who wanted to say a few words.

  To Lizzie’s horror, the few became many and before she realized it, everyone had been asked to say a word to express what they were grateful for. As Lizzie brainstormed ideas, she noticed that Sebastian had yet to show up. His absence worried her. He’d been acting strange and erratic over the past few days. Skulking down the hall. Avoiding her at all costs, calling in sick, and barely saying two words to her when they ran into one another. The fact that he’d yet to appear at the yearly event he never missed only added to her anxiety once the microphone was placed in her hands.

  “I would like to thank everyone for what they do,” she said awkwardly which made Darcy groan audibly. “And I would like to thank all those responsible that I still have my grandma with me,” she ended on a note that drew a cheer from the crowd.

  Everyone in attendance either knew or had worked with Virginia Bennett during her years at the college, and when she was the director of the Carlisle Museum. The crowd raised a toast to Virginia, shouting out their gratitude and respect for such a great lady. Since Darcy was neither a benefactor nor faculty, she passed when it was her turn to speak. Lizzie stood beside her as the last few people said their piece. Just as Jacobs’ intern, Emily, finished, Sebastian appeared. Immediately Lizzie immediately saw that he was slobbering drunk. He swayed as he walked up to the microphone and rudely snatched it out of Emily’s hands.

  “Hey! ’Sup?” He rudely elbowed Emily as he nodded to the crowd and withdrew a flask from a pocket. He took a long pull and tossed it uncapped into the crowd. A small group of people in the front jumped back, trying not to get splashed as the stainless-steel canteen flew through the air and landed on the floor with a solid thud. “How’s everyone tonight?” he asked, his words slurred as a line of spittle ran down from the corner of his mouth. “If you all can’t tell, I’m having a great time. Especially after such a shitty day,” Sebastian paused as Jacobs was motioning for him to get off the stage. “What?” Sebastian said in response to Jacob’s frantic waving. “No, I’m not leaving until I’ve said what I have to say.”

  Sebastian gripped the microphone possessively and posed for the crowd. The move was reminiscent of W. Axl Rose from Guns ‘N Roses. Stepping up, Sebastian let out a muffled burp before speaking. “I’m thankful that my life is going so great,” he said sarcastically. “I’m thankful that my job sucks. I’m grateful that my best friend is dying and, I’m grateful to be friends with someone who’s been in love with me since she was sixteen years old. Someone who I wouldn’t even look twice at. Her grandmother used to run this joint and got her granddaughter a job here after no one else would hire her. That pathetic little bitch over there who has to use her family connections to get anywhere in life.” With another loud burp, Sebastian threw the microphone down, flashed a peace sign, and hopped down the from the stage. He roughly brushed past several people, uncaring as he knocked into them as he headed for the door.

  Lizzie stood mortified, frozen to the spot. Every single person in attendance stared at her. All she could remember from that moment were the mouths hanging open with disbelief and, worst of all, the snickers from those that didn’t like her. Lizzie fled the exhibit hall and rushed to the bathroom closest to her office. Within seconds, Darcy and several other women were beside her, consoling her, and cursing Sebastian Sanders’ name.

  “Sebastian is dead meat! The next time that I see him, I am going to kick his ass!” Darcy growled as she held Lizzie close as she sat, legs splayed across the white tile floor. Up until then, Lizzie had refused to let herself cry. Her eyes burned with unshed tears until she could no longer hold them back.

  “You and me both, sister,” Mae Yu, the head of the Asian art department chimed in. “What an asshole!”

  “Lizzie, are you alright?” Darcy asked as Lizzie cried herself out, sniffing loudly in the corner of the bathroom. “Come on, let’s take you home. We’re going to tell your grandma what that bastard said tonight. Let her punish him. He deserves everything she throws at him.”

  Lizzie nodded as she unsteadily got to her feet and reluctantly left the bathroom. The women that had joined her in solidarity created a roadblock as Darcy led Lizzie out of the building and got her to the car.

  “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to drive,” Darcy apologized. “I have had too much to drink and I don’t want to risk getting pulled over with a DWI or hurting you any more than you’ve been hurt.”

  “It’s fine. Maybe the drive will help distract me,” Lizzie said as she climbed in on the driver’s side and fired up the engine.

  After dropping Darcy off at her mom’s house where she had been staying since her last break-up, Lizzie drove around the city for an hour before heading home. She passed Bobby while driving out to the edge of the city. He waved from where he was perched but stayed put, allowing her to continue unescorted. Once she had had her fill with driving, Lizzie went home.

  An ambulance blocked the driveway and several of the neighbors were standing on the sidewalk as she approached the driveway. Parking along the curb, peered at the activity. A lone police officer was ushering everyone back when Lizzie got out and stepped forward.

  “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to stay back with the others,” the officer said in a calm, gentle manner.

  “This is my house,” Lizzie said. “I live here.”

  The officer let out a patient sigh and motioned for her to approach him. “What is your name?” the officer asked as he brought her to stand beside his patrol car.

  “Lizzie Bennett. I live in that house with my grandmother, Virginia,” she answered, unable to keep the worry from her voice.

  “Miss Bennett, I hate to inform you that your grandmother has died,” the officer said evenly as his words thoroughly broke Lizzie’s heart.

  The wail that came from her echoed across the neighborhood. Lizzie collapsed under her own weight as her knees buckled. The officer helped her back up and held her until Mrs. Konstakis, her grandmother’s lifelong friend and neighbor, slipped under the radar and took Lizzie from the officer.

  Lizzie sobbed into the heavy-set woman’s shoulders as her large, warm arms encircled her in a comforting and protective embrace. Lizzie wept into the night. After receiving such atrocious humiliation, she had come home needing her grandmother to soothe her wounds. Instead, she came home to find those welcoming, comforting arms gone, never to hold anyone ever again.

  The rest of the night passed in a blur. Mrs. Konstakis used Lizzie’s phone to call Darcy, who showed up minutes later in an Uber. Darcy stayed with Lizzie for the next two weeks. She and Bobby helped Lizzie with all of the arrangements, most of which Virginia had had the foresight to take care of in advance.

  When Darcy finally left to go back to her mother’s, Lizzie stood in the large house alone. That was the moment when it all hit her. Lizzie bitterly realized that the life that she had known was over and a new, unrecognizable one had taken its place.

  From that day on, Lizzie kept to herself, preferring to work and to come home with no outside social interaction. The only ‘socializing’ that she did was at the college and museum or when Bobby and Darcy came over for dinner occasionally. Other than that, she preferred to be alone. Alone with her thoughts, refusing to face the swirl of emotions that wrestled inside of her.

  ************

  Lizzie refused to think about that horrible night any further. As she sat in her comfortable, well-worn office chair, sipping her tea and staring out the window, her phone buzzed. Lizzie reached into her bag, pulled out her phone, and swiped t
he screen. Two messages awaited her. The first was from Darcy, stating that she had thoroughly ripped into Sebastian after Lizzie left and that Bobby would take care of him if he continued to bother her.

  Lizzie smiled at the screen, bolstered by Darcy’s defense. Lizzie’s stomach lurched at the second message. Even though she deleted it several months ago, Sebastian’s number appeared in the list, along with what looked like a lengthy message waiting to be read. Lizzie set the phone down, uninterested in what he had to say. Why couldn’t he just accept that she wanted nothing to do with him? She asked herself the question several times but failed to come up with an answer.

  Lizzie turned the phone off. Maybe she would read the message in the morning. Maybe she would delete it and let that be the end of it. The clock behind her chimed midnight. Wanting nothing more than to ease her mind for a bit, Lizzie decided to get some work done. She glanced towards the essays.

  No, not them tonight, she thought. The droll tedium of grading always left her mind drifting to places where she didn’t want it to go. Instead, she’d open the manila envelope with the hope that it would provide enough distraction until it was time to go to bed.

  Lizzie slit the top of the envelope open and upended it. A single sheet fell out onto the desktop. Tossing the envelope into the trash can, she turned her attention to what looked like a delicate, weathered sheet. Immediately, Lizzie could tell that the vellum page was aged and fragile. Delicate. The cream-colored surface bore stains in several areas, no doubt marks from age. She had seen the like many times while working at the Lake District Museum in northern England. Usually, letters in this condition were of no consequence and no value, except to be used for research papers down the road. Turning it over, Lizzie nearly dropped the letter as she recognized the handwriting.