The Color of Heaven - 09 - The Color of Time

by Julianne MacLean

  Instead of watching late night programming, I found a local cable station that played a continuous loop of a roaring golden fire in a stone hearth. I watched it for a long while and let my thoughts return to that summer of my first love…

  * * *

  In the early days of July, September had seemed a million miles away—another season, another lifetime. It felt as if the four of us—Chris, Jean, Ethan, and I—would be together forever.

  When it dawned on me, however, that we had all coasted rather unwittingly into the middle of August and the approach of summer’s end, a heavy cloud of dread descended. I couldn’t escape a constant feeling of impending doom—for I would soon be forced to return to Montana and start another school year, while Ethan would venture off to Yale.

  There was nothing to be done about either of those things because he had an impressive academic scholarship, and my non-refundable plane ticket had already been purchased. Jenn and I would fly home Labor Day weekend, and my beloved, beautiful boyfriend would start a new life in a new city with new friends. And new girls to meet.

  That’s when I realized that all summer long, I had been floating blissfully in an innocent bubble, believing I was Ethan’s one and only true love and nothing would ever exist outside the hours we spent together. He certainly made me feel that way when he used words like “I love you” and “forever.” But with September looming on the horizon, my doubts and insecurities about our future together began to erupt in a typically teenage, volcano-like fashion.

  “I can’t believe we only have one more week,” I said to him one lazy afternoon while we lay on our towels at the lake, drying off under the hot summer sun after a refreshing swim off the dock.

  He ran his finger across my shoulder. “I know,” he gently replied. “The summer went by way too fast. I don’t even want to think about leaving you.”

  I entwined my leg around his, rested my chin on his chest and peered up at him. “Me neither. I wish there was some way around it. Another way to be together.”

  He stroked my hair, lifted his head off the towel and kissed me softly on the lips. “I could fly out to Montana and visit,” he said.

  “Really? When?”

  He thought about it for a moment, then his eyes clouded over. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t be able to come for any of the long weekends. My dad will expect me home for those. I’d have to sneak on a flight sometime…find a way to pay cash for it. I couldn’t use my credit card.”

  “Why not?” I asked, leaning up on an elbow. “Wouldn’t your parents cover that for you? You could see Montana. I’d introduce you to my parents.”

  Ethan sat up and I was forced to roll off him. “No, they definitely wouldn’t cover it,” he replied with a clear note of bitterness.

  “Maybe if they could meet me and see how much we love each other,” I suggested, “they’d understand and help us.”

  Ethan shook his head. “No, Sylvie.”

  “Why not?” I continued to press. “And why haven’t you ever brought me home and introduced me to them? Are you ashamed of me or something?”

  Rising to his feet, he strolled to the shoreline, picked up a flat stone and skipped it across the water. “You don’t understand.”

  “No, I don’t, and that’s why I wish you’d explain it to me.”

  For a long moment he stood with his back to me, gazing out across the calm, reflective water while ducks quacked in the distance. Then he turned.

  “Fine. Here it is in a nutshell. My parents are snobs and they have high expectations for me, because I’m their only son. They don’t want me mixing with the “locals” in Portland, except for Chris of course, because he’s our neighbor and they would never be rude to his parents. They want me to marry some rich society debutante from Park Avenue and end up president of a multinational corporation, just like good old dad. A chip off the old block.”

  I swallowed uneasily as I considered all of this: Ethan’s swanky lifestyle in New York City, the private jet, the sailboat at the yacht club in Cape Elizabeth.

  “Did they ever meet Corrine?” I asked with a sinking feeling in my belly.

  Ethan returned to sit on the towel beside me. “How do you think I met her? They love Corrine. They knew her parents from Dad’s Wall Street days and have been pushing us together ever since we were kids. It’s like some kind of arranged marriage or something. Dad would have been furious with me if he knew I’d ended it with her this summer, especially since she and her parents were staying with us that weekend. Thankfully, she didn’t tell them we broke up either. She’s kind of in the same boat as me. It’s the only thing we have in common. The only thing.”

  He picked up a rock from beside the towel and tossed it halfheartedly into the water.

  “So they think you’re still with her?” I asked. “They don’t even know about me?”

  Ethan shook his head. “Trust me. It’s better this way.”

  I felt a rush of anger and rose to my feet. “You are ashamed of me.”

  “No, really, I’m not,” he replied, squinting up at me in the blinding sunlight.

  “Yes, you are, otherwise you would have told them the truth a long time ago and let them meet me. I’m a nice person, Ethan, and I have big plans. I’m not some stupid “local” who’s going to end up working in a fish plant or something. I’m going to go to college and do something amazing with my life. I’m sure they’ll like me if you give them a chance.”

  “You don’t know my father,” he said. “If he found out about you, he would have sent me straight home to New York the same day.”

  Rancor sharpened my voice. “So that’s it then. You were never going to tell them. You were just going to have your fun with me, then go off to Yale and forget we ever knew each other.”

  “That’s not true,” he said.

  “I don’t believe you.” Bending forward, I scooped up my sundress, pulled it on over my head and kicked my feet into my flip flops. Seconds later I was stomping up the beach and walking past Ethan’s car.

  “Where are you going?” he called out, gathering up our towels.

  “Away from you!” I shouted over my shoulder.

  I was aware of him running to catch up. By then I was on the narrow wooded lane, determined to march all the way back to town on my own.

  The sound of his car engine starting up and the tires skidding over gravel alerted me to the fact that he was whipping the car around to catch me. I moved to the side of the lane to let him pass but he didn’t, of course. He pulled up beside me and said, “Get in, Sylvie.”

  “No.”

  “You can’t walk all the way back to town by yourself. It’ll take hours. It’ll be dark by the time you get home.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  He stopped the car, shut off the engine and got out to walk beside me. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “No, you’re not. You don’t care.”

  “Yes, I do!”

  “Then why won’t you tell your parents? If you did, they might help us see each other. Your dad has his own jet!”

  Ethan touched my shoulder, but I shook him off.

  “It’s not that simple,” he said. “My dad’s really strict.”

  “But you’re eighteen!” I argued. “You’re out of high school. You should have the freedom to choose your own girlfriends.”

  “No kidding, but I’m not the one who needs to be convinced of that. He is.”

  I stopped on the lane. “Then why won’t you stand up to him?”

  Ethan stopped, too. “Like I said, it’s not that simple. He controls my future, at least right now he does. He’s paying for Yale and he owns that car.” Ethan pointed at it.

  I shook my head in disbelief. “So you’re telling me that your car means more to you than I do? Great. That’s just what I wanted to hear.” I started walking again. “You know what, Ethan? I don’t think we should see each other anymore. I think we should end it. Right now.”

  “Sylvie…” He ran to c
atch up.

  When he grabbed hold of my arm, something in me snapped. I was sixteen and hormonal, and I totally lost it.

  Sobbing uncontrollably, I shoved him away. “Don’t touch me! You don’t care about us! You’ll go off to college and meet someone else—some rich girl your father will approve of so you can keep your fancy car. I hate you!” Then I turned and ran into the woods.

  “Sylvie, wait!”

  Branches whipped past my face and scratched my legs as I fought my way through the leafy bush.

  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I was behaving like a child, but I couldn’t stop myself. I loved Ethan with all my heart and soul. The way things were turning out was enough to send me into an emotional tailspin.

  Tears streamed down my face as I emerged onto a clearing surrounded by evergreens. Having lost all sense of direction, I stopped and turned around.

  Suddenly Ethan was there, grabbing hold of my arm, forcing me to look at him.

  He was breathing hard. His eyes gleamed with raging intensity, his body glistened with perspiration. “Don’t do this,” he said. “You can’t.”

  “Yes, I can,” I replied, wiping my cheek with the back of my hand. “I can do whatever I want. Unlike you.”

  A muscle twitched at his jaw and he shook his head. “I’m not letting you go.”

  “Why not? You don’t care.”

  “Yes, I do!” He pulled me into his arms and held me so tightly, I could barely breathe. “I love you. Please…Sylvie, I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t break it off.”

  Shocked by the anguish I heard in his voice, and desperate just to be with him, I felt the anger seep out of me. My body melted into his. Quickly, I reached up to wrap my arms around his neck. The next thing I knew we were kissing fiercely, groping at each other in the cool shade of the quiet forest, our salty tears mingling wetly where our lips were joined.

  “I love you,” he whispered again as he dropped a trail of passionate kisses down the side of my neck. “I don’t ever want to lose you.”

  I was still crying… Maybe because I knew he would be gone soon, no matter what happened today or with his parents in the future. We had less than a week together, and of course I had no intention of breaking up with him. I was just angry. I couldn’t possibly leave Ethan. How would I ever live?

  He drew back and our eyes met. His chest heaved with ragged breaths while my heart pounded riotously.

  I lifted my arms and reached up so he could pull my sundress off over my head. Then I tugged at the hem of his cotton T-shirt, pulled it off him and threw it onto the ground.

  The sight of his bare, muscular chest filled me with desire, and soon we were sinking to our knees on the soft, cool moss of the forest floor. His lips found mine as we lay down together, wrapped in each other’s arms.

  “I love you so much,” he whispered in my ear as he covered my body with his. “I want to be with you forever.”

  “I want that, too,” I replied, cupping the back of his neck, running my fingers through his hair.

  “I don’t even want my father’s money,” he said. “Not if it means I can’t have you.”

  Our lips met and I reveled in the heavenly sensation of his body on top of mine. Yet it was bitter-sweet, for I couldn’t escape the ever-present agony of knowing we would soon have to say good-bye. How would I survive it?

  And so, unwilling to consider holding anything back from him, I gave myself over to him completely—physically and soulfully—with no notion of how it would change both our lives, in the worst possible way.

  Chapter Twelve

  After Ethan and I returned home from the lake that day—drunk with passion and love for each other—he convinced me that it would be best to keep our relationship a secret from his parents, at least for the time being. He said if they knew, they would tighten the rules and keep a closer eye on his comings and goings from university, his expenditures and the friends he kept.

  And so, together in his car at the curb outside my grandparents’ home, we plotted how we would each save up money to pool so he could fly back and forth to visit me in Montana during the school year.

  That didn’t make it any easier, however, to say good-bye on Labor Day weekend. My grandmother drove me to see Ethan one last time and we met on the lawn in front of his parents’ Cape Elizabeth mansion overlooking the sea.

  Still, I had never set foot inside the house. And though his parents weren’t home, Ethan couldn’t take me inside that day either because the housekeeper and cook were lurking about.

  We kissed near the ancient stone sundial on his lawn, down by the water, and held each other as if the world were coming to an end.

  He promised to love me forever.

  Then, at long last, it was time for me to leave. With tears pouring down my cheeks, feeling a despair beyond any feasible measure, I ran to my grandmother’s car and didn’t let myself look back as we drove away, heading to the airport.

  * * *

  Billings, Montana

  Autumn, 1998

  After I returned to Montana, nothing was the same. I missed the sea and I hated the mountains. I lost interest in school work. That’s when I started running. Three miles a day, seven days a week. When I lost weight, my mother worried that I was depressed. She and Dad suggested that I tell Ethan not to come and visit. Maybe it would be less painful for us both if we stopped seeing each other. At least until next summer.

  This made no sense to me. I refused to listen to such madness. I said no, and ran five miles that day.

  Then, when we were halfway through the month of October and I was looking forward to Ethan’s first visit the following month, I realized that something was wrong. It occurred to me one Saturday morning when I woke up that I hadn’t had a period since I’d arrived home.

  I sat bolt upright in bed, as fear sizzled through my veins at the thought of the worst possible scenario—that I might be pregnant.

  Pregnant?

  Oh God!

  This initial reaction of panic and fear was followed by a confusing burst of joy, for if I was carrying Ethan’s baby—an adorable, sweet baby girl or boy—surely everyone would accept that it was our destiny to be together. Forever.

  Maybe we could get married. I’d be seventeen soon. Surely I was old enough, and we loved each other desperately. Wasn’t that all that mattered?

  But oh, God, how would I ever tell my parents?

  Needing to know what my future held, I ran downstairs, hopped onto my bicycle, and peddled fast toward the pharmacy on the other side of town.

  Most of the way, I prayed it wasn’t true. Everything would be so much simpler if I was just late, or if I’d simply skipped a period. It could happen. Right?

  Wearing dark sunglasses and my yellow bike helmet, I entered the store, found what I was looking for—an over-the-counter pregnancy test; the cheapest one—and approached the cashier to purchase it.

  Later that morning, after I completed the test at home and finally managed to stop crying, I called Ethan to tell him the result.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “You’re what?” Ethan said on the other end of the line.

  I cupped my hand over my mouth so no one in the house could hear me whisper it. “I’m pregnant.”

  “Jesus. Are you sure? How late are you?”

  “I don’t know, exactly, but I haven’t had a period since I got home. And the test I just took says that I am.”

  “Can’t they be wrong sometimes?”

  “I suppose,” I replied, “but I have a feeling, Ethan. I know I am.”

  He was quiet for a long moment while my heart pounded with terror. What if he thought I’d done this on purpose, to trap him? What if he hated me? What if he never wanted to see me again?

  Tears welled up in my eyes at the thought of what lay ahead for us.

  “What are we going to do?” I asked, covering my face with a hand. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “Me neither,” Ethan sai
d at last, in a resigned voice. “I thought we were being careful. We always used protection.”

  “Except for that first time in the woods,” I reminded him.

  “Yeah, but even then…” He stopped himself, unwilling to go into the particulars, I suppose. But he did try to be careful.

  Ethan sighed heavily into the phone. “You can’t have it, Sylvie. You know that, right? You’re only sixteen and I just started school.”

  Somehow I’d known that was what he would say, and a part of me was relieved. I hadn’t planned any of this, and it was a tempting solution—to imagine that the problem could simply disappear, as if it were just a dream and had never happened. Maybe my parents would never even have to find out.

  Yet, another part of me couldn’t bear to imagine what Ethan was suggesting. It made no sense, but when I first realized I might be carrying his child, I’d felt a burst of excitement at the idea of it. I’d fantasized about holding that baby in my arms, changing its diaper, singing to it and rocking it to sleep.

  “Are you there?” he asked when I offered no response.

  “Yes, I’m here,” I softly said.

  I heard noises in the background—other male students in the dorm, talking and laughing.

  “Have you told anyone yet?” Ethan asked.

  “No. You’re the first person I called.”

  “Well, don’t tell anyone. Not even your parents. Not until we figure out what to do.”

  “But I don’t know how I can keep it a secret,” I replied. “They’ll know something’s wrong. They’ll be able to tell.”

  “Just try to act normal. Let me see what I can do from here.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “I might be able to come up with the money. In cash.”

  My stomach turned over with dread. “For an abortion?” I whispered, not sure I was keen on the idea.

  “Yes. It’s the best option, Sylvie. You know it is. God, if my parents find out…” Ethan paused. “They’d never help us. My dad would probably disown me and cut me off, and then where would we be?”