The Big Ten: The First Ten Books of the Beginnings Series

by Jacqueline Druga

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  Henry spotted him, just where Robbie said he would be, doing exactly what Robbie said he would be doing. Frank stood against the bar, leaning into it, a drink in his hand. “Frank?” Henry walked up to behind him. “You didn’t stay for strudel.”

  Frank brought his drink to his mouth, dumping some of the liquor in.

  “Robbie is singing.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “You’re drinking, Frank.”

  “I don’t care.”

  Henry held back his frustration. “Go back to your dad’s with the kids.”

  “Where are you gonna be?”

  “Me? I’m uh ... I was going home unless you want me to go to Joe’s with you.”

  “No.” Frank finished off his drink and reached over the bar for the bottle.

  “Frank, you said you weren’t gonna ...”

  “Henry.” Frank slammed the bottle. “Leave. Right now, I don’t want to be around you.”

  “Tough, Frank, I’m here.” Henry moved closer beside him. “Robbie told me you got upset.”

  “Yeah I did.”

  “Why? Why all of a sudden are you getting upset?”

  “Sudden, Henry? You really think this is sudden?” Frank asked with an edge. “Let me tell you where I am and what I see. I see a wedding planner. Now real or not, it is a wedding plan for you and Ellen. I love her with everything I am and if there was gonna be a wedding why not be ours. I’ll tell you, because we broke up and you two snuck off to get married. Whether it was legit or not the intention was there.”

  “We discussed this already.”

  “Yeah, and I keep going back to it. I’m the bad guy most of the time and Ellen views you as the fucking saint. Are you a saint, Henry?”

  Henry lowered his head. “No, Frank, I’m not.”

  “Then why do you have it all?”

  “I don’t have it all.”

  “Bullshit. What you did, was wrong. I gave you an understanding. You said you didn’t sleep with Ellen. Yet, there’s a baby. I gave you the understanding and when I wasn’t primary, you just raced off and married her. And you know what …” Frank brought his face closer to Henry. “You still want to marry her. Even though all you did was underhanded and wrong. You have the chance or had the chance to make it up to me and you still choose not to?”

  “How can you say that?” Henry asked. “I am going through this wedding plan so Ellen can get close to Jenny. I let you take control of Nick. I support you and Ellen being together one hundred percent. We got married, Frank, because you and Dean were always at each other’s throats. It was a way to end it.”

  “Are you being honest?”

  “Yes.”

  “You didn’t marry her for any other reason, not because you were in love with her, wanted or, any reason but to stop our stupid triangle.”

  “That’s it.”

  “As primary, Henry, who were you going to give the understanding to?” Frank asked. “You know since you and Ellen took it upon yourselves to end me and Dean’s fighting over her.”

  “Robbie.”

  “My own brother.” Frank took another drink. “What about now.”

  “I told you, Frank. I want you and Ellen back together. I told you this the other night.”

  “Make it official.”

  “I’m sorry, what?” Henry asked.

  “Make me the understanding.”

  “Frank, you are. In my mind and my heart you are. You’re the only one.”

  “Make it official.”

  “I can’t do that, I’m …”

  “Ellen’s primary relationship. To everyone in this community, you are the primary. Make it official. Make me the understanding. The official understanding.”

  “Will that stop this?” Henry questioned. “Stop this up and down behavior?”

  “Yes.

  “Then consider it done.”

  “What about Ellen?” Frank asked.

  “Ellen is fine with it. She loves you. She’s fine with it. She knows.” Henry paused. “She knows already.”

  “Good.” Frank poured, yet, another drink.

  “Frank.” Henry reached for the glass. “Why don’t you slow down.”

  “I will. After tonight. After I know, Ellen is back in my life. Then I will. Until then …” Frank downed it. “I’m in a mood to drink until I forget. Ever have one of those nights?”

  Henry swallowed and didn’t answer.

  “One of those nights, where you just don’t remember.” Frank sat down his glass. “But maybe darts first. Wanna play?”

  “No, Frank … I think I’ll just head home.”

  “Suit yourself.” Frank looked around the bar.

  Henry stepped back. As he did, he saw Forrest approach Frank. “Ah, Frunk,” Forrest said. “You uh a loon? Wooed mund de comb-pa-nee?”

  “Huh?”

  “De comb-pa-nee? Ma Uh john you?”

  “Um sure. Hey, Forrest. You feel like playing darts?” Frank smiled.

  “I woo love to plea dots.”

  “Great.” Frank clapped his hands together. “Let’s go. I have to warn you, Forrest, I’m still a beginner. Don’t kick my ass,” Frank said sarcastically as he stepped toward the dart machine.

  “Uh woo try newt to. Ma-bay Uh con hep you. I wuss de Iowa stat mun’s da-vison-nil chum-peon for sex years strut.”

  “Fuck.”

  Forrest chuckled. “Uh um ruddy, Frunk.” Forrest grabbed his darts.

  “Great.” Frank huffed and shook his head.

  Henry saw that Frank was occupied and took that as his sign to leave.

  He thought about going back to Joe’s, but then as he stepped outside, he thought about something else.

  Everything Frank said.

  Not really everything, but a few things stuck out strong in his mind.

  He stood there, outside the Social Hall, and Frank’s words raced through him.

  “Are you a saint, Henry?” Frank had asked.

  Henry answered ‘no’, but the truth was, he was far from a saint. Henry portrayed himself to be the good guy and he thought he was. But lately, Henry had been seeing what he was.

  He wasn’t a good friend. Not at all. He was a selfish friend.

  What he did to Frank was wrong, because Frank was his best friend. And right there and then, outside the Social Hall, Henry wanted to make it right.

  He had to. He had to make up for marrying Ellen. He had to make up for that night.

  That night.

  It was right after Frank found out about Ellen and Dean’s affair. They fought, he was mean, Ellen ran away. She ran outside of Beginnings and camped out. Henry found her.

  She had been drinking heavily and wasn’t ready to return to Beginnings. Joe was sick. Under the Salicain. So Henry stayed with her. They drank, they talked, they laughed, they kissed.

  Then kissed some more.

  He could still feel the inner turmoil of that night. Guilt for kissing his best friend’s wife. Guilt for needing the touch of a woman and forgetting it was Ellen.

  Guilt … for letting it happen when Ellen was far too intoxicated.

  The night, beyond the wall, flashed in his mind.

  The kiss. The touch. The laugh and leading her to the blanket.

  When did Ellen black out? By the time Henry realized Ellen was ‘out of it’, it was too late.

  A sickening and sinking feeling grappled at Henry’s gut and he snapped his mind out of the thoughts of that evening.

  Moments before Frank asked him, “I’m in a mood to drink until I forget. Ever have one of those nights where you just don’t remember.”

  Henry didn’t answer. Had he replied, he could have said ‘no’. He never had an evening where he drank so much he didn’t remember. But, he could say for certainty, on one such occasion, Ellen did.

  Henry knew it, never said a word and never would.

  She questioned him the next morning. She asked him what had happened. It was then he kne
w, she really didn’t have a clue. She honestly blacked out.

  In his demented logic, if he didn’t tell her, then it was all right. It never really happened.

  But it did. He was certain the truth would never come out. Then Nick was born.

  So easily Henry jumped on the ‘conception questioning’ and ‘It had to be a time ripple’ bandwagon right along with Ellen. Jason’s invention offered him an excuse for a mistake he should have owned up to. But too much time had passed and he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

  Admitting what he did not only meant his friendship with Ellen and Frank, it could have very easily meant his residency in Beginnings.

  How long had Henry carried it? How long did Henry try to bury it as if it didn’t happen, that it was all a bad dream.

  But it wasn’t. And even though he would keep it tucked deep inside, Henry vowed right there, even though in his mind it was unintentional, he wronged both Frank and Ellen and he was going to make it up to them.

  He would make it right somehow. But that somehow would be without the truth ever coming out ...

  CHAPTER THREE

  Ellen had floated away in a moment of memory. Thinking back to the early days of Beginnings and the day her and Dean got married. What brought it on? The simple flash back careened at her after she hung up from a brief phone call. Henry telephoned, said he was not stopping by and he apologized.

  “For what?” Ellen asked.

  “Just all the trouble and chaos.”

  She thought he was joking and playing a depressed card, until he brought up the mock wedding. How they needed to stop the plans, sooner rather than later.

  “Frank is upset.”

  “Frank has to deal. It’s over between him and I.”

  “But he’s my friend.”

  “And not to sound callous, but maybe you should have thought of that before we snuck off and got married. Henry, is this bothering you because the mock wedding isn’t real.”

  “Why would you say that?” Henry asked.

  “Because you wanted to make it real.”

  Ellen heard his sigh on the phone, and then she heard Dean call her name in the distance.

  “Frank will never allow it. He wants to be in control.”

  “Then maybe …” She peered over her shoulder, down the hall and to Dean in the bathroom. “Maybe we should take any chance of control away from him. I can’t have him interfere now. Not now. Maybe it’s time for me to decide where I need to be. Quit involving everyone’s emotions.”

  “That’s a good idea, but how.”

  “Maybe have Jenny’s wedding plans not be in vain.” Again, she looked at Dean. “Maybe I need to marry someone.”

  “El, that may be the only solution. Solidify a bond. Legally. Are you sure, I mean, I …”

  “Ellen,” Dean called her.

  “Henry, we’ll talk more later. I have to go.”

  She hung up before she or Henry said goodbye. Dean was her priority. It was that call that made her think of the day she married Dean when she was seven months pregnant. How strong he was, adamant, and focused. Not the quite the same man who sat waiting on her in the bathroom.

  Both Deans of the past and present needed her but in different ways.

  Back then, though, she made a promise to Dean and she broke it. The trust Dean placed in her and she had betrayed him. Now Dean needed to trust her and Ellen felt a part of him didn’t. He had every right. Now more than ever, Ellen wanted to help Dean. More than the day she had married him, she wanted to prove to him she could be there for him. With Dean as low as he could get, Ellen had her chance to make it all up. Her feelings for him had grown deep enough that she could be what he needed and not let him down. And she wouldn’t. Not this time.

  “I’m back,” she said as she walked into the bathroom. “Sorry. That was Henry.”

  “I figured. Everything okay?”

  “Actually, yeah. It’s great. I have an idea, but I’ll share it later.” Ellen lifted the basin to the counter then dipped a small brush in the cup of soap, swishing it around building it to a lather. “Towel or no towel, Dean.”

  “How bad are you going to be?” He kept his eyes closed as he sat in a chair center kitchen.

  “I’m a pro.” Ellen tossed a towel over her shoulder and brought the brush to his face, soaping him up. “Ready?”

  “I guess.”

  She set down the cup and picked up the razor, lifting Dean’s chin to start at his neck. Humming as she shaved him.

  “What are singing?”

  “You’ll laugh.”

  “Then tell me.”

  She dipped and rinsed the razor and then continued, “I was singing the ‘Silly’ song Robbie played all night last night.”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t get it out of my head. I could have sworn I heard him playing it when we were walking home.”

  “I thought I heard that too.”

  Ellen released a sigh of relief. “Good. I thought I was hearing things. I wonder why he was playing it?”

  “To annoy everyone.”

  “That’s Robbie.” Ellen shaved his other cheek. “Almost finished.” She wiped the soap that dripped.

  “El,” he spoke so soft. “I usually shave first then shower.”

  “So we did it backwards.”

  “You combed my hair on the right, didn’t you?”

  “Dean, you seem to be bitching a lot at someone who has a lethal object so close to your throat.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize.” She set down the razor then wiped his face clean. “Yell at me, do something. Show me emotions … We’re finished.”

  “It’s hard to show emotions when you just feel so numb.”

  “I wish I could help you with that.” She turned and reached for his shirt that set nearer to the stove.

  “You could have.”

  “I could have? Did I miss my opportunity?”

  “No. I did.” Dean reached his arm out to the side, feeling for the counter and then standing.

  “How did you do that?”

  “Not fifteen minutes ago, El, I was standing with you naked in a hot shower. Instead of thinking about where the situation could lead, I was thinking if you would tell me if I washed all the soap out of my hair.” He sensed Ellen’s silence. “It won’t always be like this, El. I’ll do all these things eventually without help. Hopefully soon.”

  “I know you will.” Ellen grabbed his hand. “Let’s go in the living room. You can wait there until I go put some clothes on.” She led him from the kitchen, guiding him to sit on the couch. She grabbed his hands and placed his shirt in them. “I’ll be right down and then I’ll make you dinner.”

  Dean’s mind raced. Ellen was going to cook for him. What else? She had done everything for him so far. It was borderline humiliating to him.

  Ellen noticed Dean’s head lower as she stepped away. He brought the shirt he held to his mouth as he crumpled it within his hands. “Dean,” she softened her voice, moving back close to him, “I know you’re down. You have every right to be. But I feel down now too. I feel like I’m not doing anything. Tell what I can do to help you. I want to help you.”

  “You do. You are. I just wish I could see you. Your face.”

  “It’s not very attractive right now, Dean. I just got out of the shower.”

  “That’s not what I mean. No matter how nuts you drive me, no matter what, when I saw your face, it made me smile.”

  “You can still see me, Dean, but only in different way. Come here.” She reached out to him. “Give me your hand.” She took his hand leading him to his feet and then she laid his hand upon her face. “See me.”

  His fingers parted as his palm lay just upon her lips. He felt every curve of her face, every scar, her damp hair running over the back of his fingers. Slowly his hand moved down, his fingertips brushing lightly against her lips as he made his way to her neck and trailing to center of her chest through the slight opennes
s of her robe. He actually felt his body tremble some in nervousness as he felt the rise and fall of her every deep breath. Dean shifted his hands just a little to the left. Tighter he closed his eyes when he felt the vibration of her heartbeat through her skin. How many times in his life had he touched Ellen in desire? But now he touched her differently. He touched her with discovery, seeing her for the first time in a different way. He wasn’t just seeing her anymore with his eyes. Dean swore at that moment he could actually see into her soul.

  The silence, the deafening silence, was filled only with the ringing of their breathing.

  Rigid and tense in their movement, his fingers spread outward slower than he had ever moved his hand before. Dean’s little finger extended. It touched lightly, then traced over—barely touching—the contour of her breast.

  Ellen shivered and an ache filled the back of her throat at his slightest of touch, his hand opening more over her, feeling her. She lowered her head sliding it against his, her cheek against his cheek, bringing her mouth to his ear. Her parted lips reached to kiss him there as they touched and moved to his neck, Ellen’s hand slid down his bare chest.

  Dean’s breathing was off. Near hyperventilation he felt, when her hands moved from his back, across the rim of his jeans, then sliding over the front of him with a sensual firmness as she pressed her body against his. Not only on his body, but in him, he felt Ellen kissing him. The warmness inside built, yet Dean froze. He literally could not move when, like a lightning rod, fear hit him. Darkness. He was engulfed in a darkness that would not leave him even when he opened his eyes. He couldn’t see Ellen. He could only feel her and that frightened him. Instead of giving in to what was building, Dean found himself fighting against the vulnerability he was feeling toward Ellen, so at her mercy, so at her control, so out of his hands. His one moment of intimacy, his long awaited moment with Ellen was turning into what had happened in his life. It was becoming another thing he feared he couldn’t do, now that he was trapped in his darkened world. Dean didn’t want to fear it. He wanted it. So badly, he needed it but he felt it slipping from his fingers like her body he held gently in the palm of his hand just underneath her robe.