by Robin Brande
He threaded his hand through the side of her hair, bringing it to rest on the back of her head. He kissed her softly on the cheek, the temple, the ear.
Her breath felt shallow again. She closed her eyes. He continued to kiss her gently, while she rested her arms around his waist. So different from the early hours that morning, and in some ways, more frightening. When he was tender like this, she knew she was most in danger of falling.
“Why did you come get me?” she asked softly. She opened her lips and kissed him before he could answer. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear him. It might be safer not to know.
He pulled back, still holding her, but now gazing into her face. “When I saw you outside my house the other day...”
“Oh, God—” Eliza covered her eyes with her hand. “Don’t talk about that—I’m so embarrassed.”
“No.” He gently pulled her hand away. “When I saw you, I thought...maybe you still think about me sometimes.”
All the time.
“Sometimes,” Eliza agreed.
“I think about you,” David said. He kissed her again, so tenderly she almost cried.
“Where’s your bedroom?” he said. “Show me.”
* * *
Eliza stood at Hildy’s kitchen window, dressed in her robe, long johns, and socks. She longed for something warm between her hands, a mug of coffee or hot chocolate. She needed to pack clothes for her and Hildy so she and David could return to his heated house.
But another part of her was in no hurry. She worried about the outside world. Even Hildy, with her knowing looks and her questions. Anyone who could disturb what they had right now.
He came into the kitchen dressed only in the quilt that had been on Eliza’s bed. He stood behind her at the window and wrapped the quilt around them both.
He kissed the back of her neck, the back of her ear, then rested his head on her shoulder. He did it all so tenderly, so reverently, the words were out of Eliza’s mouth before she could stop them.
“How can you be this way with me?”
“What way?” he asked, holding her even closer.
“So...loving.”
“Because I love you, Eliza.”
The words hung in front of her, frozen and absolute.
“No,” she answered almost breathlessly, “you don’t.”
“What do you mean I don’t?”
“Why are you with Livia?”
“I’m...not,” he said, his voice suddenly tight. “Why would you think that?”
“Because she told me.”
“Then she lied.”
David took Eliza gently by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “I haven’t been with anybody since you. You’re the only one that I want.”
“Then why have we been apart?” Eliza answered impatiently. As the reality began to dawn, she wanted to grasp it as soon as possible. But it still didn’t make sense.
“I thought you didn’t want me,” David said.
“Why would you think that?”
“You left. Without a word.”
Eliza looked into his eyes, searching, convincing herself of the truth. Then she leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his chest.
“You mean we could have been together all this time?” she asked him.
“As far as I’m concerned, yes.”
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
Her legs felt weak, wobbly, the way they sometimes did when fear swept through her. But this wasn’t fear—it was sadness, and regret. She swallowed hard against the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat.
“David, are you telling me the truth?”
“Eliza, I will love you until the day you die if that’s what you want from me.”
Tears began to flow down her cheeks. She didn’t smile, didn’t kiss him—this was much too serious for that.
Instead she pressed her wet face into his warm chest and answered, “Yes, that’s what I want.”
40
“Are you sure you can handle another party of hers?” Carolyn Jackson asked. “And why does she always have them on the same day that I do?”
“Well, the first one was on Easter,” Eliza answered, “and there’s really one choice of day. For this one, I don’t know. She must be competing with you.”
“Sibylla Walsh has always been jealous of my parties,” Carolyn said.
“Of course she has. You think she knows how to make peppermint snowflakes?” Eliza bit down on another one.
“Seriously, though,” Carolyn said, “do you feel like you’re ready for her this time?”
“How could I ever be ready?”
“She’s an old bat,” Hildy put in.
“Yes, thank you,” Eliza said. “But she’s David’s old bat.”
“I’m ready for her,” Hildy said. “Just let her try to say one thing...”
“Look!” Katie said, pointing out the window.
The Careyville fire truck drove slowly by, with a man dressed up as Santa waving from the back.
Eliza laughed. “This is not where I’m from.”
Carolyn waited until she and Eliza were alone again before asking, “I mean it, Eliza. Aren’t you nervous about being around all those people again? I assume Ted will be there?”
“I assume. But I have to get to used to them all sometime,” Eliza said, “and it might as well be now. That terror is his mother, and Ted Walsh is his brother—nothing’s going to change that.”
“Guess you can’t live in the bubble forever,” Carolyn said.
“Believe me, I would if I could.”
* * *
Eliza scanned the room. She hadn’t asked David if one of his mother’s former guests was coming, and she didn’t know what to expect.
Hildy had been doing the same thing. “No Livia,” she whispered as soon as David walked away to get them drinks.
“Thank goodness,” Eliza said.
“Look at who Ted’s got.”
Across the room, Eliza could see Ted Walsh with a new woman hanging on his arm. She was thin, blonde, pretty in a made-up, hair-styled way.
“Wonder where he got her,” Hildy mumbled.
Eliza shrugged. She didn’t care. “What do you think that was all about? With Livia?”
“The Walshes are rich,” Hildy said. “She’s an ambitious girl. Isn’t hard to figure out.”
Eliza smiled as David came back toward them. He handed Hildy a glass of wine, and Eliza a glass of sparkling water. She glanced at Hildy’s merlot with a twinge of envy, but decided to stick to her original plan of keeping all of her wits about her.
“Shall we go say hello to my mother?” David asked.
Eliza firmed up her smile. “Love to.”
* * *
“Eliza,” Sibylla Walsh said, inclining her head. “Hilda.”
“You can go ahead and call me Hildy,” Hildy said. “Most people do.”
“Old habit,” Mrs. Walsh said, smiling. “We’ve known each other so long.”
“It’s been Hildy for that long, too,” Hildy said. Eliza gave her mother-in-law’s arm a subtle squeeze.
Sibylla turned her attention to Eliza. “So, you’re here now with a different one of my sons.”
“Mother,” David warned sharply. Eliza could feel her cheeks flush.
“Eliza doesn’t mind me speaking frankly, do you, dear?”
“Of course not, Mrs. Walsh.” Eliza and the woman locked eyes. Eliza deliberately kept her posture relaxed and gave the old bat a smile.
“I’m glad Ted introduced me to this family,” Eliza said. “I wouldn’t have met David otherwise. I’m very lucky I did.” She squeezed his hand in reinforcement.
“You are lucky,” Sibylla said with a sniff. She adjusted herself taller against her chair. “Many women would feel fortunate to be chosen by either of my sons.”
“Mother...” David tried again, but Eliza gave his hand another friendly squeeze.
“Like I said,” she repeated, “I’m ver
y lucky. But I saw your daughter over there, and I’d love to say hello. Thank you for inviting me to your party, Mrs. Walsh. You always entertain in such style.”
She let go of David’s hand and walked away with Hildy trailing close by her side.
“That ought to shut her up for a while,” Hildy muttered.
“Let’s hope so.”
David caught up to them a moment later. “Sorry about that. My mother is...”
“The same,” Eliza finished for him. “I didn’t expect anything different.”
She really had seen Sue across the room, and now headed in her direction.
“I want to talk to Mike about something,” David said, spying his older nephew at the same time. “Feel safe enough with my sister? Don’t mind me leaving you alone?”
“Perfectly safe,” Eliza answered.
“I’m going to go find the ladies room,” Hildy said. “I’ll be right back.”
Sue smiled as she saw Eliza approach. “Merry almost Christmas.”
“Thanks, same to you.”
“Are you homesick at all?” Sue asked.
“A little. Although it’s nice to have Christmas in snow. Back home we’re sometimes still wearing shorts this time of year.”
“Ahh, sounds heavenly,” Sue said. “I might want to visit your family one winter.”
“You’d be welcome,” Eliza said.
They’d briefly run out of things to say. The two of them smiled at each other politely.
Then Sue said, “Can I talk to you about something?” and drew Eliza into a quiet corner.
For a moment, Eliza dreaded what might come next. Maybe Sue had her own opinion about what kind of woman would date both of her brothers. If Hildy’s theory were correct, Sue certainly had an opinion about what Livia had done at the lake house. She might have some pointed words for Eliza, too.
But Sue had never been unfriendly to her, and wasn’t starting now. “I just wanted to tell you how happy I am,” she said. “David’s a really great guy.”
Eliza smiled, relieved. “I know. I agree.”
She noticed Sue looking past her shoulder to check on the locations of her family. David still stood talking to Mike, and John and Danny were laughing with Uncle Herbert.
“I wanted to tell you something,” Sue said quietly. “I just...think you should know.”
Again, Eliza felt dread. This was it: some sort of warning or secret that stood to ruin everything.
“No, it’s nothing bad,” Sue said, seeing her expression. She laughed. “I shouldn’t have made it sound so dramatic. It’s actually very good. Very...sweet, if you know my brother.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Eliza could see Hildy approaching. She shook her head very slightly, and Hildy took the hint. She casually turned and changed directions, heading toward one of the caterers to see what food Sibylla Walsh dared to serve.
“I have to ask you,” Sue said. “Do you love David?”
Eliza felt shy for the briefest second, but then answered in a clear voice. “I do love him. More than I can tell you.”
Sue nodded, satisfied. “He’s a wonderful man—maybe one of the nicest I’ve ever met, and I’m not just saying that because I’m his little sister.”
“You told me that before, at the lacrosse game,” Eliza said. “I didn’t believe you at the time. He still wasn’t talking to me yet.”
“But now you can see that, right?”
Eliza nodded.
Sue took a breath. “I’m not sure David would want me to tell you this, but I love my brother, and I think you should know. He’s loved you for a long time, Eliza. Maybe even longer than he’s willing to admit.”
Eliza looked at her in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“He met you. Maybe ten or eleven years ago. You and Jamey came here to visit his parents. You must have been...twenty?”
Eliza nodded.
“David really admired Jamey,” Sue said. “From the time they were young. Jamey was always so fearless, you know?”
“Oh, I know,” Eliza said.
“David had such a hard time. He didn’t have many friends and he was so shy—he hardly talked to anyone but us. But I think Jamey was always nice to him. They didn’t really spend time together, since David was so much older, but he told me once that Jamey showed him how to do some crazy trick on a skateboard. David fell and practically cracked open his head, but I think he was really happy to be included. He told me he was.”
Eliza’s heart began to ache. For the boy who was Jamey and the boy who was David. She hadn’t expected this intersection, some moment from both of their lives that might have meant something to either of them.
“When you and Jamey were up here,” Sue continued, “you talked about some climbing trip you had just been on, and Jamey said he was going to try to write an article about it and sell it to a magazine.”
“I remember,” Eliza said. “That was the year we got started.” Jamey had sold the article to a regional climbing newsletter, and other assignments followed. Soon Jamey and Eliza were both regular contributors to a variety of outdoor and sports publications. Their careers built from there.
“David followed you,” Sue said. “Both of you. I think he probably read everything you wrote. He’d look for your articles every month—both of yours—and he bought Jamey’s books. And yours.”
Eliza nodded, finally understanding all those times when David seemed to know more about her adventures than a casual stranger should. He wasn’t a casual stranger. He knew her. Or at least remembered her.
“I heard about what happened last July,” Sue went on. “David told me what you said.”
“What I said about what?”
“How you’d better have met by accident. He’d better not have some plan.”
Eliza shook her head, confused. “I guess I remember saying that, but...I don’t understand.”
“He did have a plan,” Sue said. “I’m not sure if he’d admit this—even to himself—but I think he probably started hoping for it the first time he ever saw you out walking Hildy’s dog.”
Sue gave a quick shake of her head, warning away Danny, who’d been coming toward them. Danny held out his palms as if to say, “What?” but then he turned and went back to his father.
“He’s admired you for years, Eliza,” Sue said. “I’m sure he had no idea you’d ever move here. And then when you did...I think a part of him started hoping that someday you’d be together. So you see, in a way he did have a plan. And after you said that...I think maybe he was worried how you’d react.”
“But...he never said anything—about any of this.”
“That’s my brother,” Sue said. “You should know that by now.”
Eliza’s mind reeled. None of this seemed possible. And yet, it suddenly explained something to her: why he’d seemed so shocked that first day when they met, when she stood up and he saw her face. She remembered him becoming flustered, when moments before he’d been shouting at her to control her dog.
“And then there’s the Ted thing,” Sue said.
Eliza’s eyes widened in sudden comprehension. “‘If he thinks I want something he tries to take it.’”
“What?” Sue asked.
“Just...something David said. That night when we were fighting.”
“About Ted, I assume.”
Eliza nodded. Now she understood completely: Ted’s initial attention, his persistence, his willingness to keep pursuing her when it was clear she wasn’t giving in.
“So Ted knew David liked me?”
“We all knew,” Sue said. “He’s talked about you and Jamey for years. He felt like he knew both of you. He used to show my boys some of the articles you two wrote—they loved reading about your adventures. And then you wrote about Jamey dying...”
Eliza closed her eyes. It was too much. But it also explained so much.
“So Ted thought...”
“I love both my brothers,” Sue said, “but Ted...well,
I’m sure you’ve seen what he’s like around David. That whole competition—I mean, look at the situation at the lake house.”
“Hildy thinks you kicked her out. Livia.”
“I did. I’d do it again.”
Eliza and Sue both looked at each other. Then Sue nodded. “I just wanted you to understand. And to know that his feelings for you run very deep. He’s not someone to treat lightly, Eliza. He’s a very good man, and he deserves a very good woman. I hope that person is you.”
Eliza surprised herself by hugging David’s sister. “Thank you for telling me. I really appreciate it.”
“Do you love my brother?” Sue asked her again.
“Sue, I thought I would never love another man for the rest of my life. I was wrong. It’s David.”
* * *
“What were you and my sister talking about for so long?” David asked. He stood with Eliza at the edge of the party, his hand resting comfortably in the small of her back. He occasionally stroked his thumb across her spine.
“This and that,” she said. “She wanted to know if I love you.”
“What did you tell her?”
“Of course.”
“We don’t have to stay very long,” he said.
“Good. Because if you keep touching me like that, you’d better be willing to back it up.”
* * *
Eliza lay with David’s head on her chest, his hand resting on her belly. Idly she ran her hand over the stubble of his hair, occasionally pausing to tug a few strands. She kissed the top of his head and whispered, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he said, then burrowed his face back into her breast.
The days were dark early now—dusk around four, dead dark by six—and by morning Eliza felt as if she’d been asleep forever. Dawn came so late, she was sometimes anxious to get out of bed to try to hurry the daylight along.
She always did her best thinking and writing in the morning. She still hadn’t brought her laptop over to David’s. She preferred doing her work in Hildy’s home while David did his own at one of the stores or his upstairs office. They had a nice arrangement, Eliza thought, both of them together all night and the mornings, then parting to their separate worlds to accomplish their own work. Only to come together again at the first sign of dark, when they could close themselves in and be alone.
