by Jessie Olson
No one answered. “Well… if nothing else, it makes for great speculative conversation when I introduce my boyfriend to my crazy friends.”
Mark laughed and put his arm around Nora. “True, Lizzie. Very true.”
Meg breathed out and managed a smile. “I think we can all agree about that,” she accepted the piece of bread Lizzie just covered.
“That you are all crazy?” Ben chided. “Absolutely.”
*****
Lizzie dropped her purse and jacket on a brown leather chair in the living room. She took in the details of his apartment slowly. It was the top floor of a three decker, probably a hundred years old. Lizzie noticed the modern furniture mingled with the historic moldings. It was tidy, well furnished, and comfortable. It wasn’t what she expected… and yet… not unusual at all.
“That was fun,” Ben led her into a dining room.
“You have a dining room.”
“So do you,” Ben returned. “And even with three people who eat food in your house, you never use it.”
“You really… it was okay?”
“Elizabeth, I like your friends,” he kissed her sweetly and went towards an antique buffet set up as a bar. She watched him pour a glass of wine and hand it to her. “Between the two of us, you only drank half a bottle of beer tonight.”
“I like how you get me drunk every night.”
“Not drunk. Just… a precaution.”
“Are you hungry?” Lizzie touched her wrist.
“Just enjoy it,” he smiled.
Lizzie smiled shortly and looked at her glass. She followed him back into the living room and accepted his invitation to sit beside him on his sofa. She took a sip of her wine and let it warm her. “I’m sorry if the acrimony between Meg and Mark was unbearable. They often… they aren’t friendly.”
“Why is that?” Ben touched her hair as she leaned against his shoulder.
“It’s just the way it is with boyfriends of best friends.”
“You get along with him.”
“I get along with most people. I can see that Mark really truly loves Nora. Meg just … well, she thinks he’s boring. She would rather we all ran off with…” Lizzie stopped herself from what would have easily been an amusing thing to say. She heard Ben chuckle under his breath. “She thinks a little danger is sexy.”
“Alec …”
“They’ve got nothing on you,” Lizzie looked ahead and took a sip of her wine.
“No,” Ben took in a breath as he continued to smooth his fingers along her hair. “I think I’ve met Alec before.”
“What?” Lizzie almost spit out her wine.
“I’m not sure if he recognized me.”
“From where?” Lizzie pulled herself away from Ben and set down her glass on the coffee table.
“I’m pretty certain he used to be a donor at the clinic,” Ben said cautiously, but without concern.
Lizzie looked away, finding a sudden fixation on the pattern of browns and reds in his carpet. “So that means he knows… he knows,” Lizzie looked up at Ben.
“It’s a strong possibility,” Ben smiled shortly.
“But he’s… he smokes and sleeps with so many… women and men. He can’t have the best blood,” Lizzie took up her wine glass again. Her intolerance for Alec sank even deeper.
“I don’t think he still goes there,” Ben touched her hand. “I just thought you should know.”
“In case he tells Meg?”
“It is her favorite subject,” Ben’s smile was more polite than encouraging. Even so, Lizzie couldn’t stop a little bit of hope from entering her mind. It was a week since she came back from their getaway to Vermont, but she already felt the limitations of her conversations about Ben. Even when there were drinks at Nora and Mark’s. Ben could integrate well enough with her friends, pretend to drink his beer and eat cheese and crackers. But Lizzie was still left without anyone to talk to about the weirdness of it all… or the possibility of fear.
Lizzie shook her head and leaned back against his side. She didn’t want to think of Meg or Alec while she was in the already familiar comfort of his side in his apartment. “How long have you lived here?”
“I rented the apartment when I first worked at the hospital,” Ben restored his arm around her shoulder. “Then I bought the whole building in the 60’s. The rental income was useful when I went to Springs. After graduating from MIT, I restored all the units and sold them as condos. I figured my company was enough responsibility and no longer had interest in being a landlord.”
Lizzie looked down at her wine glass. She still expected him to say he bought the place five years ago… not fifty. She breathed in slowly and then looked at him suddenly. “What hospital did you work at?” she lifted her eyes to see his reaction.
He pursed his lips on the smile. “Mt. Elm.”
“That’s… where I work,” she faded on the obvious words of her sentence.
“Yes.”
Lizzie took the last sip from her glass and replaced it on the coffee table. She rested against his arm and gazed at the entertainment center and shelves across from her. She couldn’t identify the DVDs or books on the shelves. “It is one of the older hospitals in the city,” Lizzie said to herself, thinking of some of the more antiquated buildings on the campus.
“It is.”
“Ben, is there such a thing as reincarnation?” she didn’t look at him with her serious tone.
“What?”
“You’ve been around a while. Maybe you’ve seen someone come back.”
He breathed in deeply. “I don’t know much more than you about what happens after a person dies, Elizabeth. I just know I don’t die as easily.”
“But you have been on this planet much longer. That gives you more opportunity to observe things… to understand that things can’t be as neat and tidy as Mark would like to believe,” Lizzie sat up and turned to look at him.
“I think some people come back,” Ben readjusted his posture. He looked at Lizzie intently. “I’m pretty certain I’ve met a soul in different lifetimes.”
Lizzie met his stare and then twisted herself back against his shoulder. “Oh,” she couldn’t bring herself to ask the next question.
“But I don’t know… I don’t know that is what happens to everyone.”
“Well, of course not,” Lizzie took his hand and intertwined their fingers. “Could you come back? If your heart was destroyed, would you come back as a vampire?”
She felt his breath go deep into his stomach. “If someone destroys my heart, Elizabeth, I am done with this world.”
“What happens?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you go to hell?”
“I thought you didn’t believe in hell.”
“I didn’t believe in vampires either,” Lizzie let go of his hand and looked at him. “I didn’t mean that in a … mean way, Ben. If there is a hell, I’m probably going there, too.”
“I think we’ve both already experienced our own versions of hell,” he looked away from her, his thoughts following his gaze.
“Karma?”
“I guess you could call it that,” Ben returned his focus to her and took her hand in his again.
“I think…” Lizzie sighed, welcoming the fingers in between her own. “I think this is my good karma.”
Ben smiled. “Me too.”
*****
Lizzie awoke expecting to see the green numbers of her clock. Her mind slowly awakened, realizing she wasn’t in her bed or her room. She was under Ben’s arm in his apartment. She let her mind retreat back to sleepiness with the conclusion there wasn’t enough sunlight to require getting out of bed for another Saturday at the Fulton House.
She drifted back to sleep as she imagined taking Ben on her tour. She wondered if he remembered using objects like they had in the museum… if it would be at all interesting or nostalgic for him to see them. Maybe he could explain all the fuss about the chair in Harriet’s room. That way s
he could tell Richard to tell Gerard Fulton to stop worrying…
Lizzie stood in the passageway from the stairwell to the great room. She kept in the shadows watching all the people mingle and drink their cocktails. She watched Gerard Fulton whisper to Jonathan, the curator. Paula and Richard stood close to them, both aware of Lizzie in the passageway but more attentive to the discussion of upholstery. Lizzie wondered if she should enter the room and clean up the empty glasses cast on the side tables, but thought her jeans and sweater were too informal for the party, making it obvious that she didn’t belong in the crowd.
She looked away from the conversations and focused her attention on the string quartet at the back of the room. The notes of Vivaldi quieted her mind and took her from the room and her aching feet. She leaned her head against the wall and felt the heat of someone behind her. She turned slowly and met Ben’s friendly gaze.
Lizzie rolled over as she opened her eyes from her dream. Ben was gone. A moment of panic filled her thoughts, but then talked herself back to reality remembering she was in his apartment. She found his shirt on the floor and buttoned it as she crossed the hall to look for him. She heard the click of a keyboard and followed it into his office. He looked up from his screen as she walked in. She saw the burning look in those eyes. He was hungry.
“Morning,” he softened the glimmer in his eyes.
“Morning,” she sat on a leather couch opposite his desk, not able to completely quiet the question of how hungry he was.
“I made you some coffee in the kitchen,” he rose from his chair.
“You make coffee?”
“It’s a good skill to have as a businessman.”
“You must have a secretary,” Lizzie tried to imagine Richard making his own coffee.
“There’s milk in the fridge,” Ben said lightly and watched her leave the room.
Lizzie went to the kitchen, opening three cupboards before finding the mugs and glasses. She was surprised to see so many dishes and silverware. It was clean, almost brand new. She wondered how many guests he had for whom he kept up the pretense… or fed if they knew… if he fed from them. Lizzie shook that thought from her mind as she stirred the milk into her coffee. It was good coffee.
She took her mug and went back to her seat on the leather couch. Ben typed another few minutes before returning his gaze to her. “What time do you have to be at the museum?”
“Ten,” Lizzie rested the mug on her knees. “What time is it?”
“Eight,” he smiled again. “I can give you a ride if you don’t feel like taking the train.”
“Thanks,” Lizzie took another sip and grinned to herself as she thought of her dream. “I could give you a tour.”
Ben took in a light-hearted breath. “I can’t today,” he paused as if contemplating a change in his plans. “I have to finish up this project before noon. Then I have to get to the clinic.”
“Right,” Lizzie summoned the neutrality to mask her disappointment. “If it’s too much to give me a ride, I can take the train.”
“It isn’t too much,” he shook his head.
“Next time,” Lizzie shrugged as she lifted her mug to her lips and let her eyes wander to the details of the room. She noticed the old volumes on the bookshelves and thought the Fulton House might not be so interesting to him anyway.
“You’re going back to Nora’s tonight?”
“Yeah, I’m helping her with the favors.”
Lizzie saw the amusement in Ben’s his sweet gray green eyes. “Will Meg be there?’
“She’s supposed to be… but after last night probably not,” Lizzie walked over to the books that caught her eye. She pulled a volume of Keats and looked at the title page. “This is a first edition.”
“I got it in England,” Ben left the desk and moved to her side.
“You like poetry?”
“I like Keats,” he pulled another volume.
Lizzie took the book from his hand. “Shakespeare’s sonnets,” she admired the binding and the pages. “This is three hundred years old. I really shouldn’t be touching this without gloves.”
“Why not?” Ben shrugged. “It really makes no difference what it’s printed on. Isn’t it the words that matter the most?”
“But there is a craftsmanship…” Lizzie stopped herself and looked at Ben. “It is in good condition.”
“Yes.”
“Have you read all these books?” she looked at the companion plays to the collection of sonnets in her hand. “Even with all your medical and computer studies?”
“I confess I haven’t read them recently,” Ben watched her pull out another book and look inside. “A few I reread because they were important to someone I like to remember.”
Lizzie closed the copy of Candide and shifted her focus quickly enough to catch a glimpse of sadness in his expression. “These are valuable to you for a reason beyond bindings and printing dates,” Lizzie sheepishly returned the book to its place.
“Yes,” Ben looked at the book she replaced and looked back to her. “You can touch all these books without gloves, Elizabeth. I like to think you will enjoy them.”
She wanted to ask him a dozen more questions. She wanted to know who the someone was and why he still wanted to remember her… if it was a her. Was it the vampire who changed him? Was it another human... from another century? She shifted her eyes back to his, the first of her inquiries poised on her tongue. She saw the burning look of his hunger. “I should probably get ready,” she said quickly, deciding to move away from him and her curiosity.
Ben heaved a deep sigh and nodded. “I’ll be here if you need anything,” he offered as he returned to his desk. Lizzie felt his eyes follow her out of the room.
Chapter Fourteen
Lizzie leaned her head against the window and watched the blur of the white lines passing beneath the car. She listened vaguely to Nora and Meg discuss who was expected at the rehearsal dinner and staying at the hotel through the weekend. She ran through her own checklist of things she promised Nora she would take care of at the hotel. Lizzie didn’t much agree with Nora’s sentiment that multiple hospital galas made Lizzie an event planning expert, but she was happy to do whatever she could to alleviate the stress of the bride.
“Is Ben coming up tonight or tomorrow?” Meg took a sip from her iced coffee.
Lizzie lifted her head away from the window. “Tonight,” Lizzie answered. “He probably won’t make dinner. But he should be in time for dessert.”
“It’s too bad he couldn’t change that meeting,” Nora sighed. Lizzie showed a weak smile even though neither turned from the front seat to see her expression. Ben offered a different schedule, but Lizzie thought it would be less rude for him to not eat sorbet than the steak dinner Nora’s father planned. Besides, Lizzie knew his meeting was important. He moved his clinic appointment to Friday so he could be in Gloucester all day Saturday into Sunday.
She appreciated the excuse for his absence, but there was a part of her that disliked his clinic visits. She knew they were necessary. She knew it guaranteed her own safety and health. She knew… all these quantifiable details… but the clinic was still unknown to her. It was a part of him that would be easier to know and understand than the vague details of his transformation or his falling out with Oliver. And yet it was still a mystery. The sources… were unknown. Except, apparently, at one time Alec McCaffrey.
“I’m surprised Ben didn’t change the meeting so he could see you. It’s been what? Almost a whole week since you’ve seen him?” Meg turned around as she took another sip from her straw.
Lizzie repeated her strained smile. Alec evidently said nothing to Meg about Ben’s secret. Lizzie couldn’t imagine Meg would have her attitude if she knew Ben could add a whole new dimension to her thesis. Lizzie also suspected that Alec smoked enough pot to affect his memory and may well have forgotten Ben altogether. “I saw him on Sunday.”
“After practically living at his place for two weeks,” Meg turn
ed back to face the front of the car.
“Like you’re one to talk,” Nora picked up her iced drink.
“He lives close to Mt. Elm. It’s easier when I have to work,” Lizzie leaned against the window again. She wanted to avoid the argument with Meg, who was at the apartment even less than Lizzie. It was apparently not okay for Lizzie to be gone on the one or two nights she returned to Jefferson Park.
“Poor Jackie is all by herself,” Meg returned in a tone that Lizzie couldn’t tell was mean or funny.
“I think Jackie is all right,” Lizzie answered. “Will Alec be there for dinner?”
“Hopefully by five, if traffic doesn’t suck too much.”
“Has he finished proofing your thesis?” Nora set her cup back in the cup holder.
“Not yet,” Meg looked out her window. “But he’s liked what he’s read so far.”
“I still want to read it,” Lizzie always wanted to support her friend, but now she had an additional motive.
“Next time I see you at the apartment, I’ll give you a copy,” Meg darted a glance towards Lizzie.
“Okay,” Lizzie decided to let that one slide and get back to the subject of the day.
“Can you get my Chapstick?” Meg held her hand between the front seats. Lizzie reached for Meg’s bag. She pulled out a book and felt through the cluttered contents until she found the Chapstick. Lizzie turned over the book and recognized one of Meg’s favorite novels. The cover had an illustration of a handsome man with pale, pale skin – white to the point it was nearly blue. He had dark hair and dark eyes and wore a long black cape that swept in the wind around the waist of a voluptuous blonde. His fangs bared as the glint in the eyes focused on the blonde’s neck.
Lizzie felt a shudder as she placed the book back in Meg’s bag. It was kind of ridiculous. Ben didn’t go around in a black cape staring at her neck. He did… sometimes look… but not… like that. He wasn’t a monster. Of that she had become most definitely certain. And Lizzie wasn’t a young blonde virgin either.
