by Jessie Olson
“And it’s just the first installment,” Richard winked. “Make sure you follow up about that chair business if you can. Mt. Elm will appreciate it.”
“Yeah,” Lizzie said mechanically.
“If you want to type up the thank you letter, you can leave early this afternoon,” Richard offered.
“Thanks,” Lizzie smiled and made herself close the Internet browser and go back into Word.
“A success,” Dr. Chiang took Richard’s hand before he returned to his office and shut the door. Lizzie looked away from her computer to Dr. Chiang lingering by the desk. “Do you like working at the Fulton House?”
Lizzie was startled by the sudden question and didn’t know how to quiet her thoughts to register an honest answer. Just a polite, simple, “Yes.”
“Maybe I’ll take a tour someday. I’ve heard so much about it.”
Lizzie resisted the disbelief from registering on her face. Lizzie knew she had reason to flatter Gerard Fulton about his family’s history… but why offer Lizzie the insincere comment about hearing so much about a museum people only discovered by accident or through tourist guides? Lizzie took in a deep breath, annoyed with her peevish lack of patience. She shouldn’t jeopardize her professional relationships because she was insulted by Ben Cottingham. “I’d be happy to give you a tour sometime.”
“Enjoy your afternoon off,” Dr. Chiang left the office.
Lizzie watched the door close and reached for her phone. She found Eric’s number and pressed send.
*****
Lizzie gazed through the large windows at the view of the Charles. She always thought the image of Boston from across the river was breathtaking, even at three in the morning when her breath had already been vigorously spent. She wondered if they should have closed the blinds… not that anyone was looking across the river to see what was happening on the fifteenth floor.
She wanted to leave, even though she felt badly that Eric splurged on a hotel room when they could have easily gone back to either apartment. It was a nice variation to their routine, but not enough to quiet her mind enough to allow sleep. Not enough comfort to make her want to stay beside him.
He was sleeping. The room was silent except for the faded echo of a car horn. The view was… the evening was worth it to have that view of the city in the darkness of pre-dawn. She couldn’t feel the stiffness of her ankle anymore. It wasn’t a bad evening. It wasn’t an awkward morning. It just wasn’t… it wasn’t… it wasn’t what she wanted. It wasn’t Ben.
She stared at the silver waters reflecting the street lamps and lights of the boats along the river. She watched the boats, some in shadow. Some were lit by a lantern. She saw the ferry move across the river. Then she saw him, standing at the edge of the water. His feet were in the marshes. She walked towards him, knowing she would get her feet wet. She saw the russet hair and waited for him to turn around and look at her with the green eyes. She reached out to touch his shoulder and when he turned around he laughed. Nobody laughed at her jokes. Not even Jack. Jack leaned forward over his lunch tray and rolled his eyes at her lame punch line. Sara smiled politely, but she could tell she wanted to roll her eyes at Ben. Lizzie was annoyed. Annoyed that Sara could determine what was funny at their table. Then why was Ben laughing at her joke? He was always nice to her. Nice so she would convince Sara to give him a second look. Convince her to let him take her to the prom. Then he would give her a corsage of lilies. Lilies. Lilies were Lizzie’s flower. Not Sara’s.
Lizzie opened her eyes. The sun reflected off the blue river straight into her pupils. She rolled away from the window and let the images of her dream collect before falling away from her memory. Was it a memory? Sitting across from Ben in the cafeteria as he laughed at a joke Sara didn’t think was funny. To impress her so that she would convince Sara to go to the prom with him. Or was she just wishing he was he trying to impress her?
She tried to hold onto the images of her dream as she turned onto her back and saw Eric’s smiling eyes. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” she wished the sound of her voice didn’t break the spell of her dream.
“I have a surgery this morning,” he grinned.
“Okay,” she shut her eyes to try to bring back the Springs’ cafeteria.
“I’m off tonight. How about dinner?’
She opened her lids to the attention of his dark eyes. It was a genuine invitation. Not a spontaneous drink. Not the impulse to stay at a hotel. Or maybe the hotel was part of it? Had he been waiting to ask this question for a while and planned out the detail? “Eric, I…”
He sat up and took her hand so she would do the same. “What if we take a couple steps back and just go on a date?”
“I don’t…”
“We can still… we can still end up in the same place. I just thought maybe we could make this a little more serious.”
“No,” she was surprised the answer came so bluntly from her lips. She was too tired to control herself.
“I like being with you, Lizzie,” she watched him curl his dark hand around her pale fingers.
“I don’t want to date,” she couldn’t buffer herself.
“But don’t you want to… I mean you’re 33. Don’t you want a family?”
She retracted her hand. “That’s not what this was about, Eric.”
“It could be.”
“I’m not good enough for you,” she shut her eyes. “I’m a bad… I would be a bad girlfriend.”
“Not if you let yourself … let’s just try it.”
“I’m sorry Eric. I’m sorry if I led you on. I… I…” she stopped the temptation to be completely honest with a look at his eyes. He really liked her. For a few seconds she let herself imagine the possibility. She could be one of the doctors’ wives for whom Andrew wanted to cater. “I’m flattered. But I don’t… I think we should stop seeing one another.”
“Oh.”
“I really should get to work,” Lizzie left the bed clumsily and went quickly to the bathroom.
She took a shower and didn’t fuss too much when putting her clothes back on. She wasn’t eager to impress anyone with her appearance at the hospital. It was going to just be a day she had to get through. She left the bathroom and saw Eric sitting in a chair by the window, looking at the Charles River. He turned to her, the invitation still hopeful in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Lizzie grabbed her bag and coat. “I’m really sorry, Eric,” she said a final time and walked out the door.
Chapter Eight
Lizzie looked at her watch in between sips of water. She resisted the letdown as she emptied the bottle and tossed it in the recycle bin. She walked a few yards and turned back to where she was waiting.
“Lizzie!” Meg shouted through the crowd of spectators and runners.
Lizzie shut her eyes and breathed out relief. “Hey.”
“Congratulations!” Meg hugged her, forcing Lizzie to put pressure on her exhausted ankle.
“Did you just get here?” Lizzie tried not to let the pain make her voice too sour.
“Kinda. Well, it took me forever to find a parking spot. And even then, it’s a couple blocks from here,” Meg offered sheepishly as she handed Lizzie another water bottle and her bag. “I should have left the house earlier.”
“It’s all right,” Lizzie prepared to start the walk back towards the car.
“You made better time than you thought?” Meg tried to deflect the culpability.
“Ten minute miles,” Lizzie breathed out. “Not bad considering my ankle.”
“Your ankle is okay?” Meg frowned.
“It’s all right. It will be fine when we get back to the car.”
“Why don’t you go sit over on that bench? I can bring the car around. It just might take a few minutes to get around the road that’s still blocked off for the finish line.”
Lizzie nodded, willing to be a wimp and indulge her ankle. She ignored the instinct to limp. Her legs pulled through six ten minute mil
es. Not bad. There would be friends and dinner to make her forget the resurgence of swelling. She rubbed the sweat off her forehead, breathing in deep. She lifted her glance towards the bench and saw the gray green eyes looking at her. She quickly changed her direction towards him and felt the stiffness of her ankle melt away with the eagerness of her steps. He looked the same, his freckles still obvious under his eyes. “Ben, what a surprise,” Lizzie concentrated on a determination to be kind.
“I saw your Facebook status and thought I would witness you overcome your injury,” he smiled graciously.
“Oh,” Lizzie was startled by his answer, not sure if it was because he paid attention to her update, or because he was checking on her ankle six weeks later.
“You did it. Even with a slight malfunction,” he smiled, making her forget everything that upset her in the months since the reunion.
“It’s still not perfect,” she concentrated her pressure on her right foot so her pain wouldn’t give her away. “But better.”
“Well, congrats,” he touched her arm. “I imagine you… well done, Elizabeth.”
“Um, listen, we’re heading back to my place for spaghetti and drinks. Just a small group of friends. You wanna come? It should be fun. My friend Davis is always entertaining,” Lizzie offered. “I still owe you for giving me a ride home.”
“You don’t owe me. I was glad to help you,” he paused and shifted to a smile. It wasn’t a real smile. “Thanks for the invitation. I would like… but I don’t think I will be able to.”
“Oh,” she felt the pain creep back into her memory.
“Maybe some other time,” he nodded as Lizzie’s bag started ringing. Ben looked at the satchel dangling from the clutches of her hand. She couldn’t ignore it. She looked for the phone and saw Andrew’s name come up. Ben nodded as he touched her shoulder again and walked away.
Lizzie let out a sigh and flipped open her phone. “Hi,” her eyes followed Ben until he faded amongst the crowd of runners and spectators and water bottles.
“Lizzie,” Andrew’s voice was foreboding of disappointment. “You’re done?”
“I’m waiting for Meg to bring the car,” she sighed, looking towards the bench that was now occupied.
“Congratulations,” he lacked enthusiasm.
“What’s up?”
“Davis is sick,” Andrew sighed. “He hasn’t been able to eat all day. I would leave him but he … well, you know how he gets.”
“No worries. I don’t think I’m good company right now anyway,” Lizzie took the patience out of her answer.
“What happened, lovely?”
“Just my ankle flaring up,” she looked towards the road, hoping Meg would appear soon.
“Maybe tomorrow?”
“Plans with Nora.”
“Well, some time this week. I will cook you a fabulous dinner.”
“Yeah, sure,” Lizzie said quickly seeing Meg’s red Focus. “Meg’s here. Talk to you later.”
“Call me tonight if you need to bitch.”
“Tell Davis I hope he feels better,” Lizzie closed her phone and walked to meet Meg’s car.
“I would have pulled up closer,” Meg said as Lizzie put on her seatbelt.
“Andrew just called to cancel,” Lizzie explained before Meg could question her sour mood and infer any other cause.
“That’s too bad.”
“So I guess it’s just us,” Lizzie leaned her head back and closed her lids. All she could see was the gray green eyes.
“Alec called.”
“Mm?”
“He wants to go to a movie.”
“Well, we can eat early.”
“The movie is at five-thirty. So… well, seeing that we’re having dinner with Nora tomorrow…”
“I’ll just go home and take a shower.”
“Sorry Lizzie,” Meg sighed. Lizzie didn’t answer. She just kept her eyes closed to dry the tears before they had a chance to escape.
*****
Lizzie didn’t know if the quiet of the apartment was a blessing or a curse. She wasn’t doing much to take the pressure off her ankle. She lingered an extra ten minutes under the steam of her shower. Then she cooked her small bowl of spaghetti. She went for sauce in a jar and frozen meatballs. Not the fancier version she planned with Andrew… but it refueled her weary limbs. She cleaned up the kitchen and was contemplating one of Meg’s DVDs when the doorbell rang.
She felt the swollen joint as she walked down the steps and had to pause before reaching for the door. She forgot the irritation and almost lost her breath completely when she saw Ben on the other side of the door with a bottle of wine. “I hope it’s not too late to change my mind,” he smiled.
“Well,” somehow she laughed. “Actually my friends were sick. And Meg went out with her boyfriend. So… there’s no dinner.”
She breathed out, hoping he didn’t think she made up the dinner story to lure him back to her apartment. But he came to her apartment. He remembered where she lived. He changed his mind. “We can still have wine,” he offered, not lifting his gray green eyes. Lizzie realized she was in jeans and a t-shirt. Her hair was still wet from her shower. She was barefoot and didn’t… well, she was more attractive than the last two times he saw her – sweaty and muddy after a run.
“Come on up,” she turned around and went back up the stairs.
Lizzie let herself pause in the doorway with the two wine glasses and bottle to take in the reality of the moment. He stood by the mantelpiece of their inactive fireplace. He was in her living room. He accepted her invitation. He came to see her at the end of her race. He came because he thought she wanted that. She felt giddy and unreal… and suddenly very foolish and guilty for letting herself doubt.
He sensed her presence and turned to her frozen stance. He took the glasses from her hand and paused. “Is everything all right? How’s the ankle?”
“It’s been better,” she smiled and set the Malbec on the coffee table. Lizzie sat in front of the table and silently filled the two glasses. She offered him one and took a large sip from her own.
“Where is your roommate?” he disturbed the silence without taking a sip from his glass.
“I have two roommates,” Lizzie explained. “Jackie – the one you met – is visiting her sister this weekend. My other roommate, Meg, is the one who went to the movies with her boyfriend.”
“It’s a nice apartment,” he looked around the room and settled on the couch beside her. Lizzie was glad she cleaned in anticipation of guests. She managed to hide away all of Meg’s vampire novels and washed all the dirty wine glasses.
“Yeah,” Lizzie nodded. “There’s a lot of space for three people. I like the fact we have two floors. I really like the spiral staircase.”
“That is a nice touch,” Ben agreed. “It’s always been the three of you?”
“Well, originally it was Meg, myself, and our friend Nora. We all worked together at an historic village during college and decided to get an apartment together.”
“One of your other museums?”
“Yeah. We used to dress up in period costume and give tours in character. We had a lot of laughs together and learned how to deal with stress. I think it was a pretty easy transition to living together. I’m lucky to have such good friends.”
“You are,” Ben set his glass down. “Do you all still work in museums?”
“I’m the only one. Meg is perpetually in grad school, teaching undergrads and writing another thesis. Nora became a middle school teacher. She’s the most grownup of us. She actually got a fiancé and moved out.”
“So Jackie moved in.”
“Yup.” she saw his gaze and then dropped her eyes to her wine.
“Did you study history in college?” Ben broke another awkward silence.
“I did,” Lizzie took another sip.
“You read a lot in high school.”
“I still do,” she lifted her eyes to him, curious at the observation. “It keeps life
interesting when my job is so dull.”
“You think your job is dull?”
“Dreadful.”
He lingered his gaze on her eyes for a second and shifted towards the coffee table where she rested her feet. “Your ankle is swollen,” he observed. “Do you have an Ace bandage?”
“I do,” she muttered into a sip of wine. “On the shelf over the bathroom sink.”
She drank the rest of her glass and a sip of another before he came back with the Ace bandage she abandoned a week ago. He sat back at her side and turned her legs so they rested in his lap. She watched him silently as he slowly pressed his fingers into the bottom of her foot, concentrating his thumb inside her arch. She felt the wine warm her skin and breathed deeply as he progressed down to her heel.
“How did you end up at Mt. Elm?”
“Money,” she shrugged and took another sip as he started to wrap the Ace bandage around her relaxed ankle. “I worked on fundraisers at all the museums. It wasn’t a lot of skill to switch the concept to hospitals.”
“But it’s boring.”
“Hellishly boring.”
“Why don’t you do something else?”
“I’ve thought about…” she watched him circle the bandage around her foot. “I don’t… I don’t think I’m all that qualified.”
He fastened the bandage and lifted his eyes to her. “Qualified for what?”
Lizzie looked at her wineglass. She didn’t know how to answer that. It was a relatively simple question. It was an answer she would have easily found had Andrew not bailed and stayed home. If Andrew hadn’t stayed home with Davis, she wouldn’t be sitting with her legs across Ben’s lap on her second glass of wine. “I…” she muttered, looking at her hands. Suddenly his hands were unclasping the glass and taking it away from her to put on the table. He moved his hands to her chin and pulled her against his lips for a lengthy kiss.
He pulled back from her and slid her feet back onto the floor. He moved a dangling strand away from her eyes and held onto the side of her face. “I keep thinking about you, Elizabeth,” he whispered. Lizzie kissed him again, unable to think how to answer the echo of her own feeling. She pressed herself against him, forcing him towards the sofa. She lifted herself onto his lap and pulled back from the kiss to look at him and his green gray eyes.
