by Lynn Austin
“Well, I thought I might check out a couple of books, if that’s okay with you.”
“Yes, of course! But how are you? Where have you been? What have you been doing these past few years?”
“Nothing much,” he said with an easy shrug. “Still working at odd jobs and things, still trying to do some reading in my spare time. I figure the only way I’ll ever get to travel the world is through books.”
They talked for more than an hour, long past the time when the library should have closed. When she realized how late it was, Helen reluctantly turned off the lights and locked the door. Jimmy walked with her to her car, carrying the stack of books she had helped him choose.
“Wow! Is this yours?” he asked when he saw her two-seater roadster.
“My father bought it for me for a graduation present, but it’s all mine.”
Jimmy walked all the way around it—twice—admiring it. “It sure is a beauty. I’ve never even driven a car.” He laughed, making light of it.
“Want to learn? I’ll teach you. We’ll practice when the snow melts and the roads are clear. It’s hard enough to get around in the snow, let alone learn how to drive in it.”
“It’s a deal!” he said with a grin, and Helen found herself hoping for an early spring.
She started the engine and put the car into gear, then pressed the accelerator and let out the clutch. The car didn’t move. She could tell by the frenzied whirring sound the rear tires made that they were spinning uselessly, stuck in a snowdrift.
“Helen! Whoa!” Jimmy shouted above the racing engine. “Let me put these books down and I’ll give you a push.” He walked around to the rear of the car, directing her as he shoved all of his weight against the bumper. Within a few minutes she was free.
His gesture seemed like a metaphor for her life. Helen had been stuck in a rut, her wheels spinning, her emotions frozen. Then Jimmy came along and jolted her out of it.
Nothing was the same after that. She saw how boring her life had become, every day the same, her job monotonous, her boyfriend tiresome and self-absorbed, her parents cold and distant. But after spending less than an hour with the man she loved, Helen had been propelled out of the snowdrift and back into a world of excitement and passion.
She watched the door at the library every Wednesday night after that, waiting expectantly, hoping Jimmy would walk through it. On nights when he did, Helen’s world had color and fragrance and joy again. They laughed together. She could no longer recall what had been so humorous, but when she thought of those evenings with Jimmy Bernard, she remembered laughter.
In the spring, Helen kept her promise to teach Jimmy to drive, secretly meeting with him in the evenings or on Sunday afternoons when she wasn’t with Albert Jenkins. Jimmy mastered the art of driving on his very first lesson, but they continued to meet, driving out to the state-owned property on Stockton Lake, exploring the deserted back roads and woods.
Helen loved him. It was as simple as that. The hours that they spent together were the only ones that mattered in her life. Their time apart was spent waiting, counting the days and hours and minutes until she would see him again. She believed that he loved her, too, but Jimmy always kept a respectful distance whenever they were together, as if well aware that she was beyond his reach.
Helen became obsessed with seeing him. He made her feel so alive. She could barely stand to say good-bye to him and return to her family’s dreary house where everyone seemed to be waiting to join Helen’s siblings in the cemetery. Without Jimmy in her life, Helen might truly die. She picked him up behind the lumberyard at the edge of town as often as she could, sliding over into the passenger’s seat so Jimmy could drive. They drove only as far as the lake, where they would sit together in the car, talking for as long as Helen dared to be gone.
“If you could afford an education, what would you want to study?” she asked him one afternoon. They had parked in their favorite spot, a grassy clearing that faced the lake. Jimmy sat behind the wheel.
“I wouldn’t want a job that would keep me inside in an office all day, I can tell you that,” he replied. “It’s so beautiful out here, isn’t it?”
“Would you want to study nature, then? Biology or maybe geology? Or how about astronomy? Then we could come out here every night and study the stars together.”
He turned to face her, his dark eyes somber. “Helen. It’s pointless to ask. It won’t ever happen. I am who I was born to be—and so are you.”
She looked away, refusing to accept the truth. “I don’t want to be that person,” she said. “I didn’t choose to be a librarian. When I graduated from college I wanted to teach school, but Father said it was beneath me.”
“You’re twenty-one, aren’t you? An adult? Why don’t you do what you want to?”
“I can’t defy my father. He arranged for my job at the library. … He’s also arranging for me to marry Albert Jenkins,” she added quietly.
“Who’s he—besides being the luckiest man in the world?”
“He works at my father’s bank. He’s from a good family. Wealthy, of course. I think he’s a distant relative of my mother’s or something.”
“Your father is right,” Jimmy said. “That’s the sort of fellow you should marry.”
Helen turned to look at him again, surprised by the conviction in his voice. Jimmy’s hands rested on the steering wheel, and the sudden impulse to touch him, to feel the warmth of his touch in return, became too strong for her to resist. She took one of his hands in hers. It was rough with calluses, nicked and scarred, and so stained from heavy labor that no amount of scrubbing could get it clean. She lifted his fingers to her lips and kissed them over and over.
“But I’m in love with you,” she whispered.
There. She had said it, admitting the truth to him for the first time. He slid his fingers to her cheek, then took her face in both of his hands, forcing her to face him.
“I know, Helen. I know. And even though it’s impossible, I love you.”
He ran his hands over her hair, then down her neck and shoulders. His touch defined her, brought her alive, made her aware that she was made of flesh and blood. Helen had never been kissed before, but the need to feel his lips on hers was equally overwhelming. She leaned toward him, kissing him first. Jimmy never would have dared. But he drew her into his arms and returned her kiss with the same passion that she had always loved in him.
How wonderful it was to be held! Her family had never been generous with their affection, keeping one another at arm’s length. Albert might take her elbow when he escorted her or she his arm. He held her lightly when they danced, at a distance. But to feel Jimmy’s strong arms around her, the warmth of his body close to hers, his breath in her ear, was the most beautiful experience of her life.
“I love you, Helen,” he whispered between kisses. “I love you … I love you.”
“I want to spend my life with you,” she murmured in return. “Let’s run away!”
He stopped kissing her and leaned back to face her. “You know that’s not possible.”
“Why not?”
“Look at us! I can’t ask you to give up everything you have—your wealth and your position in this town, your education. And I can’t support you on what I earn. I don’t want you to live where I do. You have to be who you were born to be. I don’t ever want to change you or drag you down into my life.”
“If my father accepted you and made you part of my life, would you marry me?”
“We both know that isn’t going to happen.” He gently removed her arms from around his neck and reached down to start the car. “I think we’d better go back.”
Helen spent the next two days reliving Jimmy’s kisses, thinking about their next meeting, longing to be with him again. She was so removed from everyone and everything around her that it came as a complete surprise one evening to find herself seated at her father’s dinner table with Albert Jenkins and his parents, hearing them discussing plans for her e
ngagement party. Helen panicked. She had to stop them.
“Father, please … May I speak with you in private for a moment?”
“Of course not. Don’t be rude, Helen, we have guests.”
“But I’d rather not speak—”
“If you have something to say, let’s hear it. If not, don’t interrupt.”
She swallowed, knowing that once she spoke the truth she could never turn back. “I can’t marry Albert. I … I’m in love with Jimmy Bernard.”
Helen’s mother gasped. Her father scraped back his chair and stood. “Will you excuse us, please?” he asked their guests. His face burned with suppressed anger as he marched Helen into his study. As soon as the door closed her father exploded. “How dare you say such a foolish, inconsiderate thing in front of our guests?”
“But it’s true. I don’t love Albert, I love Jimmy—”
He slapped her face, cutting off her words. Tears came to her eyes as she rubbed her stinging cheek.
“You will never speak of that boy again! He’s nothing! You’re a Kimball!”
“If you won’t accept him, then we’ll run away. We love each other.”
“Don’t threaten me, Helen. And don’t try to call my bluff, either. I don’t care if you are my only remaining child—the day you walk out of that door with the gardener’s boy will be the last day you’ll ever set foot inside my house.”
“Are you forcing me to choose?”
“There is no choice to make! I’m doing what’s best for you. That boy will never amount to anything. Albert Jenkins can give you the world. Your children will be part of the family business. They can make something of themselves.”
“Jimmy could make something of himself, too, if you would accept him and help him get an education.”
“You’re a Kimball. That means something in this town.”
“It’s a name on a monument in the graveyard!”
For a moment, her father looked as though he might slap her again. Helen feared she had gone too far. When he finally spoke, his voice trembled with anger. “There will be one more name on that monument if you run off with him. You’ll kill your mother. Do you want her death on your conscience for the rest of your life? That Bernard boy already killed your brother.”
“He did not! It was—”
“It was his fault that Henry died! And if he runs off with you, he’ll be responsible for killing your mother, too. Stay away from him, do you hear me?”
Helen fled from the study and ran upstairs to her room, unable to finish her dinner or face Albert Jenkins.
For the next few months she continued to lead a double life, attending dinners and elegant parties with Albert, who had been willing to attribute her foolish words to bridal jitters, and sneaking away to see Jimmy in the secluded woods beside the lake. But now she lived in fear, constantly looking over her shoulder, worried that someone would see them together and tell her father. She and Jimmy both knew they couldn’t continue this way, but Helen was helpless to stop. She needed to see him, to be with him, no matter the cost.
They talked endlessly about her dilemma whenever they were together, how she was torn between her loyalty to her family and her love for him. They found no solution.
“I’m all they have left,” she moaned. “If they lose me it will kill my mother.”
“If only I had an education, a better job—”
“I don’t care about the money. I would be happy living in a hut if I had you. But I’m all that my parents have left.”
“Helen, you need to forget about me and marry Albert Jenkins.”
“I can’t. I can’t live without you.”
They were sitting in Helen’s car late one Sunday afternoon in their usual spot by the lake, filling up on stolen kisses, when they heard another car coming down the deserted road. When it halted and the dust settled, she recognized the county sheriff—and he recognized her. He climbed from his car and stood beside Helen’s open window.
“Good afternoon, Miss Kimball.” He tipped his hat.
“Good afternoon, sheriff.” She felt the heat rush to her face. It must be obvious from her disheveled hair and flushed face that she and Jimmy had been kissing.
“Are you okay? Is that boy bothering you?”
“Of course not! We’re old friends. I’m teaching him to drive.”
“You should know better than to be alone with someone like him, Miss Kimball. And you should know your place, boy. You get out of that car and get on home.”
Helen opened her mouth to protest, but before she could speak, Jimmy scrambled from the car and strode into the woods without looking back. She felt herself trembling with anger and humiliation.
“You should know better, Miss Kimball. Better be mindful of whom you associate with from now on.”
Even if Helen could have found the words to say, she was afraid to say them, afraid the sheriff would report the incident to her father if she did. “I’ll be careful,” she mumbled.
“And you really shouldn’t be driving around on these old dirt roads, Miss Kimball. This area isn’t open to the public.”
“I wasn’t aware of that.”
“Okay, then. Now you are. Good day.”
The sheriff climbed back into his car and drove away in a cloud of dust. Helen couldn’t seem to move. As she sat there, shaken and furious, Jimmy walked out of the woods and slid quietly into her car again. He kept his head lowered, as if too ashamed to face her.
“We’ll find another place, Jimmy. We won’t let that ignorant sheriff—”
“No, Helen,” he said quietly. “We’re all done. I can’t put you through this anymore. It’s costing you too much. The sheriff never would have talked to you that way if it hadn’t been for me. We need to end this, one way or another.”
“How can I choose between my family and you?”
He took her shaking hands in his and gently kissed her fingers. “It’s not an ultimatum, Helen. I love you. I want this torture you’re putting yourself through to stop.”
“But I want to be with you.”
“I want that, too. But I also want you to have beautiful things, to live in a luxurious home, to travel the world if you want to. I don’t ever want you to know sadness or fear or hunger. But I can’t give you the kind of life I want you to have.”
“I don’t care about any of those things. I want to run away with you.”
He shook his head as he kissed her hands again. “But most of all, Helen—most of all—I don’t want you to have regrets for the rest of your life because you caused your family pain. I know what that feels like. Hardly a day goes by that I don’t think about your brother and how it was my fault that—”
“But it wasn’t your fault! It was an accident!”
“Not in your father’s eyes. And I don’t want to be to blame for taking you away from your family. I’m so afraid that you would hate me for it one day.”
“I don’t know what to do!” she wept.
“Then I’ll make it easy for you,” he said softly, “and for myself. Because the only way I can ever stop seeing you is to leave town.”
“Jimmy, no!” She threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him. “That’s not the answer. I’ll think of something—I promise!” He slid out of her arms and opened his car door. “Wait! Where are you going?”
“We both need some time to think,” he said. “I’ll walk back to town.”
“Jimmy, no! Come back!” But he jogged into the woods before she could stop him. It was the first time they’d ever parted without arranging their next meeting, and Helen made herself sick for the next few days worrying about him, waiting to hear from him, wondering what he’d meant and what he was planning. She had promised him that she’d find a solution, but there didn’t seem to be one.
As she was closing the library the following Wednesday night, Jimmy walked in. “Are we alone?” he asked, glancing around. Helen nodded. He set the pile of books he was carrying on the counter and gripped her sh
oulders, holding her at arm’s length. “I’ve enlisted,” he said quietly.
“Jimmy, no!” She tried to break free, to hold him in her arms, but he was too strong for her.
“I can get training for all sorts of things in the army. This is my chance to better myself, to see the world, to make a better life.”
“But there’s a war going on over in Europe! What if America gets drawn into it? Jimmy, you can’t enlist!”
“I already have. I can’t bear to see you suffering anymore. It will be easier for both of us if I leave town.”
“No, it won’t!” She fought against his grip, furious with him, desperate to make him change his mind. “I can’t live without you!”
“Yes, you can,” he said softly. Tears shone in his dark eyes. “You’re more vibrant and alive than any woman I’ve ever met. Don’t you know that’s the reason I fell in love with you?”
She finally broke free and threw herself into his arms, pleading with him, begging him to change his mind. He didn’t reply. Tears rolled silently down his face. Helen took his face in her hands and kissed him, certain that the force of her love would convince him to stay. But when their lips finally parted, he freed himself and held her at arm’s length again.
“This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I love you, Helen Kimball. Don’t ever forget that. But it’s time to say good-bye.”
“Jimmy, please don’t leave me!”
“I have to,” he whispered. “Good-bye.”
It was as if the sun had set on that Wednesday night and had never risen again. Helen lived each day in a haze of grief, willing herself to stop thinking of him, to stop feeling such terrible pain, to stop living.
A month later, Helen’s father hosted a lavish party to announce her engagement to Albert Jenkins. The mansion glowed with lights, and the ballroom came alive with whirling guests and elegant music. They set a date for the wedding and toasted their future with champagne.
Helen resigned from her job at the library, presumably to make wedding plans, but the truth was that she couldn’t control her grief each time the door opened on Wednesday night and someone other than Jimmy Bernard walked through it.
