timeaftertime

by Cynthia Luhrs

  “I’m happy Karen is making friends,” she said. “It isn’t healthy for her to spend all her time with a couple of old fuddy-duddies like us.”

  “Speak for yourself. I’m in my prime.” Drake chuckled as he went to the kitchen to fix the shrimp cocktail.

  The smell of roast filled the kitchen, making her stomach rumble.

  “Hope we’re not having an earthquake.” He closed the oven door, his face flushed.

  “Very funny. Did I see carrots and potatoes around the roast?” she asked hopefully.

  The smell of the roast, the bread in the oven, and his own scent were as intoxicating as her glass of wine.

  When dinner was ready, he pulled out the chair for her and lit the candles. They flickered and were reflected in the windows, keeping the darkness at bay.

  Drake raised his glass. “To the fates for bringing us together, even if they did separate us for two score of years.”

  “I’d hate to see what would have happened if they didn’t smile on us.”

  They touched glasses, the candlelight casting the room into a soft glow. The ocean-themed classical music he’d selected played in the background. It was a perfect night.

  Drake laid his fork across the plate. “You know you’re not old, right?”

  “I’m sixty this year, so I’m not a teenager anymore. Some mornings, I feel a little creaky when I get out of bed, or stiff when I’ve been sitting too long. Other days, it’s like I could walk into our tiny house near the desert and tell you about my day.”

  He took her hand. “You will always be young to me. Every time I look at you, I still see you with long golden hair and eyes like moonlight.”

  “You’re being silly.”

  He looked serious. “Nay, wife. No matter how many years time takes from us, you’ll always be young and beautiful to me. There is nothing I want more in this life than to grow old with you, sitting on the porch, rocking back and forth, or walking on the beach, holding hands. And even when we’re wrinkled and stooped over, I’ll still look at you and see you as you were the summer we first met. The girl made of sunlight and laughter.”

  He blurred through the film of tears. Mildred leaned over and kissed him, rubbing her cheek against his smooth face. A word he’d used registered, and she sat back. “Wait. You called me ‘wife.’”

  “Aye. Last I checked, we are wed.”

  “We are,” she said softly, her voice catching. “I’m so happy you came back to me.”

  “Forever and always.”

  NINETEEN

  Drake spent the next day answering calls from the casino and seeing about a vehicle. He’d set up a local bank account and bought a truck, returning the rental. Being at the casino, he’d used a company car. It was nice to finally pick out exactly what he wanted.

  Mildred had the Cadillac and the convertible, so a truck would be practical. He wanted to redo the outdoor shower for her, and he’d told the Women’s Club he’d build them benches to go around their gardens. It would be good to work with his hands again. He hadn’t sent for his things yet, so he needed to drive back, have a conversation with Caroline and her father in person, and find some way to honor both his oaths. Then he would pack his meager belongings in the truck and come back to spend the rest of his life with his wife.

  When he came in the house, he noticed a painting in the entryway that hadn’t been there before.

  Mildred came out of the laundry room, smelling of flowers. “Do you like it?”

  It was of a woman, hair blowing in the wind, standing on the shore like a beacon of light to warn ships of impending danger as a turbulent sea crashed behind her.

  “It’s amazing.”

  “Pittypat painted it after she lost Thomas.” She looked up at the painting, and he could see the anguish on her face.

  “I used to torture myself, staring at it, seeing her fiery spirit in every brushstroke. We’d fought about Thomas. I wouldn’t believe he was who he said he was, and I was awful to her.”

  She smoothed her hair down, something he noticed she did when her emotions were close to the surface. Everyone had their tells.

  “We made up later, but it was so hard for me. We had a rocky relationship, and now she’s gone.” She picked up a sketchbook from the dresser in the entryway. “Karen’s really good. Have you seen her work?”

  “She showed me a few days ago.” He flipped through the book. “Look at the animals she’s drawn. She’s going to paint them and hang them in the baby’s room.”

  “My sister’s easel and art supplies are in the attic. Would you get them down? I’d like to give them to Karen.”

  “Of course. We can surprise her when she gets back from meeting with the dentist.” He grinned, proud of the girl. “She’s going to have all the businesses in town coming to her soon.”

  Drake brought the supplies down and moved furniture around in one of the bedrooms so Karen would have a corner to paint, the same corner where Mildred’s sister used to work. Drake saw faded paint on the tile. He’d wondered why this bedroom was tiled instead of carpeted, and now he knew.

  His new truck came in handy. He’d loaded the bed and they dropped it off at a donation center. In its place, Mildred had picked out a daybed and a desk for Karen to use for her burgeoning business. Drake was fond of the girl. He’d offered to hunt down the boy who’d so callously used her, but she’d told him he wasn’t worth it. Still, if the boy ever showed up, Drake would run him through and throw his body into the ocean for the sharks and crabs to feast upon.

  Mildred’s eyes sparkled as she surveyed the room. “She’s going to be so pleased.”

  They heard the front door, and a few moments later, an odd thump.

  “What on earth?” Mildred looked puzzled, but Drake was already sprinting down the stairs.

  Karen was facedown on the floor. Mildred let out a gasp, her face pale.

  “Get the keys. I’ve got her.” He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the car. “You know the way, so you drive.”

  When Mildred hit the gas, Drake felt his mouth drop open. “You channeling your sister?”

  She gave him a grateful smile. “Of course. Why do you think I continued her tradition of making rather large donations to the police department?”

  Drake called the doctor and told him they were on the way and would meet him at the hospital.

  Thank goodness Karen was going to be okay. She was embarrassed at the fuss and for scaring Mildred. Dr. Weismann said she was a bit anemic and dehydrated.

  “I told you to eat your greens,” Mildred scolded her.

  Karen wrinkled her nose but then, seeing the doctor’s face, bowed her head. “I’ll eat them, even though they’re disgusting.”

  “And you’ve got to drink more fluids.” The doctor patted her hand. “You and the baby are fine. That’s what matters.”

  Drake’s phone had been buzzing nonstop. “Go ahead and take the calls,” Mildred said. “Miss Melba is coming by, and she’ll give me a ride home. We’ll get Karen settled on the sofa.”

  “Are you sure? I can take you both.” But his phone buzzed again, and she didn’t want to keep him from his work. She knew it had to be hard to leave his career and his home, but she was happy he would be settled here with her soon. They’d talked about living arrangements and agreed he would move into her house.

  Drake drove out of the hospital parking lot as he barked into the speaker. “What’s so bloody important?”

  “What are you playing at?” DiSilvio’s voice was lethal.

  Caroline had told him, even though Drake had asked her not to. To wait. He needed to figure out how to uphold his oath and his exit strategy before he talked to DiSilvio.

  “I planned to sit down with you when I returned. Rest assured, I’ve kept up with any issues from here.” He eased off the gas, reining in his temper.

  “Caroline has informed me of your intent. After all I’ve done for you, why would you abandon us?”

  “I am grateful
for everything. You gave me a home, an occupation.”

  “And Caroline.” Drake wisely didn’t say anything. DiSilvio huffed. “You never wanted to marry her. She took over and swept you along, didn’t she?” DiSilvio grunted. “She’s just like her mother, God rest her soul.”

  “I’ve been working on an exit strategy.”

  “You know how this industry works. You’re fired.” DiSilvio covered the phone, speaking to someone in the room before continuing. “Loyalty is the only thing that matters to me, and you’ve proven your loyalties lie with some old girlfriend. Not your career, your family, or your fiancée.”

  Before Drake could answer, his boss, the man who’d been like a father to him, ended the call. Like father, like daughter.

  Drake cursed. He’d do what Mildred did when she needed to think—he’d walk on the beach and figure out how he could fix things. Keep his oaths. Though, in truth, Drake knew he’d break his oath to DiSilvio to keep Mildred. Saints, he’d go to war for her, do whatever it took to have her. She was his soul.

  As he walked, listening to the gulls and waves, embracing the frigid wind, he heard someone calling his name. Unable to place the voice, Drake turned to see Caroline picking her way across the sand. It was the first time he’d seen her without high heels.

  “Finally. I found you.” She was red in the face, her hair in disarray from the wind. She looked miserable. “I brought the papers myself. You seem to have your priorities all mixed up, so I’m here to get you back on track.”

  She yanked him to her, kissing him hard. Her lips were wet. He’d never seen her like this, as a woman possessed. ’Twas like having his face washed by Miss Melba’s rescued mutt. When he tried to pull away, she held on with a death grip, capturing his mouth as if it were the plunder from a ship and she was the pirate captain.

  TWENTY

  Mildred opened the door to a quiet house. Funny how she used to relish the quiet, but now? It felt lonely not to hear voices. After putting away a few groceries and leaving the baby stuff for Karen on the island, she went upstairs to check on Karen. She was sleeping on her side, the circles under her eyes dark. Tiptoeing down the hall, Mildred looked into her bedroom, but it was empty. Drake’s truck was parked in the driveway, so where was he?

  She shrugged. He’d turn up. Most likely he was on the beach. Like her, he’d taken to walking along the water’s edge in all kinds of weather to clear his head.

  The heavy velvet curtains blocked the view. She and Karen had taken down the summer curtains and pillows and put up the winter decor. Usually they left the drapes open to enjoy the view. When she pulled them back, a couple embracing on the beach caught her eye. As she stood there thinking what a lovely couple they made, the man’s profile startled her. It was Drake.

  The woman had to be Caroline. What was she doing here? Had Drake lied to her about his feelings? Did he actually want to divorce her and go back to Caroline? They had years and years of history, a shared love for the casino, and what did Mildred have? A single summer? What an idiot she’d been, acting like a schoolgirl with a crush. Unable to bear the tableau before her, she left a note for Karen, telling her she’d be back soon.

  Mildred put the top down on the roadster despite the cold. Heated seats on high, heat blasting from the vents, she stopped for a hot chocolate with extra whip before driving to the cemetery. Somehow she held it together until she was sitting on the bench bundled up in a heavy coat, scarf, and gloves in front of the family plot.

  It was so hard to date at this age. Men were either full of baggage or had a myriad of health problems, or were single because they were awful. It was easier at her age to be alone instead of making a fool of herself chasing after men who didn’t move as quickly as they used to. This had all been a huge mistake. It was nothing more than projecting her feelings from so long ago onto Drake. They were the past. Caroline was his future.

  “Stop.” Drake took hold of Caroline and gently removed her arms from around his neck. He stepped back, noting the puzzled look on her face. Not many men pushed her away. For once and for all, he had to make her understand. “Caroline—”

  “I’ve found a house to rent a bit further down the beach, so you can stay with me and we’ll take care of getting the papers signed. This way we can fly home and still get married on Thanksgiving.”

  “I won’t marry you.”

  “Don’t be silly. It’s nothing more than a case of cold feet. You’re not thinking clearly.”

  The single-mindedness he’d once found so appealing now made him want to throttle her. No matter what he said, she wouldn’t listen. Then the infuriating woman left, telling him she’d see him tonight.

  Beyond frustrated, Drake broke into a jog, going further than he ever had before. When his side burned, he stopped to rest, spotting an old stone chapel nestled into the dunes. It was quiet inside. The interior reminded him of home. The feel of the stone beneath his fingers, the tapestries on the walls, and the fires in the huge hearth swept through him so strongly that he had to sit down. He was sitting quietly staring at the walls when a priest came in, lighting the candles and banishing the darkness.

  “What are you running from on this cold day, laddie?”

  Drake snorted. “How much time do you have, father?”

  The priest clapped him on the shoulder. “Come along to my office, where it’s warmer. We’ll have a wee nip.”

  The man had hair the color of snow and bright green eyes. He told Drake of his journey from Scotland to the States and how much he liked it here, though he missed his country and didn’t return home nearly enough.

  After his second glass of whisky, Drake told him his dilemma and worry of going to hell for breaking his oath to DiSilvio.

  The priest leaned back in the chintz chair, propping his feet up on a dusty velvet ottoman. “The decision is simple. Your oath to God and your wife come first. The oath to the man who found you is not valid and wasn’t yours to give. You’ve repaid his kindness by working for him these many years, but there is no further debt to be repaid.”

  The priest nodded to Drake, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You already knew it, didn’t you?” Without waiting for an answer, he took a sip of the amber liquid then said, “Sometimes we need an outside party to tell us.”

  Relief flooded through Drake. His immortal soul was safe and he was no oath breaker.

  “Do you love this woman you took to wife so many years ago?”

  “More than my own life.”

  The priest raised his glass. “Then what are you waiting for, man? Make a life with her. Time flies swifter and swifter as we age. Don’t waste another moment.”

  Drake clasped the man’s hand. “Thank you, father. Truly.”

  The tide was coming in, so Drake took the road home, breaking into a jog, thankful the whisky had warmed him from the inside out.

  He’d crossed the street when there was a screech of wheels. He saw a dark shape through the fog, and pain radiated through his body as his feet left the ground.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Mildred sat at the kitchen table resting her arms on the table, a box of tissues at hand. She’d put a fleece top on but still couldn’t get warm, so she’d wrapped an afghan around her and cranked up the heat as she sat there listening to music about heartbreak and loss and sipped a glass of wine.

  Maybe the love they had back then wasn’t meant to last? Nothing more than teenage love, immature and fleeting. The woman she saw him with looked like she was in her early forties, well put together, and she obviously wanted Drake to have come all the way from Las Vegas to bring him back to her.

  “Mildred.” Karen stood in front of her, hands on hips, wearing a t-shirt that barely covered her growing belly. “You always tell me to think, to see reason, and yet you haven’t given the man a chance to explain. Maybe what you saw isn’t what you think.”

  But Mildred didn’t want to be reasonable. The old hurt was comfortable, like a worn sweater or broken-in pair of jeans. It was easy.


  The wine splashed over the rim of the glass as she topped it off. “Then where is he? It’s been hours.” Well, now didn’t she just sound like her petulant teenage self after a snit with one of her sisters?

  “Have you called the hospitals? What if he’s hurt?” The microwave beeped and the smell of chai tea filled the kitchen. Karen sat across from Mildred, stirring honey into the tea. “Don’t jump to conclusions. That man loves you more than anyone I’ve ever seen. I bet he didn’t know his ex-girlfriend was coming here. And maybe she kissed him. You have to talk to him.”

  Mildred had to lean forward to slurp the wine so it wouldn’t spill when she picked up the glass. So ladylike.

  “You’re sweet to think it will all work out, but I think it’s good I saw them so now I know. It’s over. He never meant those things he said; it was the past talking. He was just looking for a way to tell me goodbye.”

  Karen threw her hands up. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. I believe his actions, and his actions tell me he loves you. Don’t let him go. He’s that very rare male. A good guy.”

  Melancholy filled Mildred. She sat there, staring at the candle, watching the flame flicker. Abruptly, she wet her fingers and pinched out the flame.

  “Sometimes it’s easier to be alone than to risk your heart. I’m too old to go through all this again. It’s silly at my age to fall in love and behave like a teenager.”

  Karen pulled her shirt away from her neck and blew down the front. “It must be ninety degrees in here.” She got up and adjusted the thermostat. “Eighty-five. No wonder I’m melting.”

  The look she leveled at Mildred reminded her of herself when she was trying to get Pittypat to be reasonable.

  “No. Love isn’t silly,” Karen said gently. “What’s life all about? To love and be loved. It’s what we all desire above all else. Don’t give up on Drake. I’d give anything to have a man look at me the way he looks at you.”