Memories of Gold

by Ali Olson

  They looked at each other in the early afternoon light, lying close on his bed. She snuggled closer to him, laying her head on his chest. He put his arm around her and sighed, content. He felt perfectly happy and at ease for the first time since he was a child.

  He knew that they would need to get up soon, that others might come back at any minute, but he was simply unable to bring himself to do anything but absorb what had just happened. His eyes roamed along the curves of her beautiful body, taking in as much as they could, and then returning to her face, her eyes bright, her lips swollen from the kisses and pulled into a soft smile.

  He ran his hand across her stomach, feeling a sense of ownership when she shivered pleasantly at his touch, still sensitive. He had never expected this to happen, but he could feel nothing but ecstatic about it. This was right. She was right.

  He pulled her closer.

  “Do you remember our first kiss?” he asked her, his voice soft.

  She laughed. “I was around eight. You stole my whistle—“

  “Stole back the whistle you had taken from me,” he corrected.

  “Well, be that as it may, you refused to give it back to me unless I gave you something better for it—“

  “And you decided to be tricky.”

  “I was being clever. Besides, I had nothing to give and you knew it. I got the whistle back, and I did give you something. A kiss counts.”

  “It was more like a distraction. You were just trying to surprise me enough so you could grab the whistle out of my hand and run away.”

  “It worked.”

  “Only because I never expected you to be crazy enough to kiss me.”

  “Well, I guess you were wrong,” she replied as she leaned in for another.

  After a few moments of tight embraces and light kisses, he began to feel the blood rushing through him, his nerves lighting up with fire and his body reacting to her allure. Before he could get carried away again, though, he broke apart from her. He brushed the hair from her face.

  “We should probably rise and dress, Maria. I have no idea when Mrs. Jessup or anyone else will be back,” he said reluctantly.

  Her half-smile turned into a half-grimace. He imagined she was picturing what would happen if someone entered the boarding house while they were still undressed and in his room. That would be a difficult situation to explain, and would certainly not help him befriend the town members, he guessed.

  Then her expression clouded over slightly, and he wondered at it. It seemed more than just a reaction to the possibility of someone walking in. This looked more like regret, and his heart constricted, realizing what he’d done to her. He had assumed from the pleasure she had experienced that he hadn’t been her first, but it was possible he was wrong.

  If he was, a woman’s purity was not something to be handled lightly, and he had let himself get carried away and taken it from her. If not, she still had a reputation to uphold that he endangered. She lived in this town, after all. The confused threads in his mind fell into place—San Francisco would have to wait, for a while at least.

  He put his hand to her cheek, trying to pull her back to the moment. “Maria, I am sorry if this put you in a difficult position. I can send a wire to San Francisco and get the permanent manager position here before the end of the week, and then we will fix everything up. I can speak to the preacher today, if you like. This should be a good thing. I will take care of it all, I promise.”

  She turned away and sat up. He felt a gulf separate them, and he wanted to do something, anything, to get rid of it and return to a few moments before, when everything was perfect. “Maria?” he asked, hoping she would explain.

  She turned back to him, a slightly artificial smile on her face that didn’t completely reach her eyes. “Everything is fine, Jimmy. You were right; we certainly don’t want to get caught like this.”

  She started bustling around, putting herself and the room to rights, stacking his clothes next to him on the bed as she went. He stayed still, lost in his confusion. She knew he meant to marry her. Did she not believe him? Not want to marry him?

  His thoughts continued along dark paths as he tried to solve the mystery of Maria’s mood. He rose and dressed, watching her and hoping for a sign or explanation. She turned back to him and their eyes met. Her expression softened, but he could still see the anxiety in her face.

  He wanted her to understand how much he cared for her. He walked over to her, pulled her towards him, and kissed her again, this time soft and lingering. It quickly turned into a more passionate, hungry kiss as their desires reawakened, but Maria pulled away from him before they could get carried away once again. She touched his face and said softly, “I must go, Jimmy. I will see you again soon.”

  And then she was gone. He could hear her feminine boots on the stairs, then the front door opened and closed, and he sat down on the bed. Did she regret what they had done?

  She had seemed so happy as they lay there together. What changed?

  Jimmy went through all the events that had occurred since that morning, his gut twisting with anxiety even while he felt flutters of happiness as he pictured her expressions, the mad dash to his room, how she had stubbornly refused to go back downstairs—he smiled slightly, thinking of her independent streak as a child and how it had not been lost in the passing years—and the passionate touch of her lips against his. He could still feel his body yearning for her, and he longed to take her into his arms again, but she was gone.

  She had not explained her odd behavior and what was wrong, but it no longer seemed to matter. He loved her, and that was enough.

  He never told her that. Jimmy slumped back onto the bed, astonished. When he said he would marry her, it sounded like he meant it as a quick solution to their irresponsible behavior or some such—not as a pledge of love. What had he been thinking? He berated himself for his idiocy.

  And now she was gone, and he had no idea when he would next see her, he realized. They had never talked about another time they would meet. She had never told him where she lived. If he knew, he could go there to try to solve these puzzles, but for the moment, he had nothing.

  He was expected to check in with the bank before closing and be there all day tomorrow, and now he had to search for Maria and explain what he had meant. God help him, he was going to marry that girl.

  Jimmy tried to think through how this change would affect his employment—a wife would be a good thing for a man with his ambitions, after all, and could affect his work in the company positively, even if it meant he needed to stay in Shasta longer than he’d planned—but it was oddly difficult to focus his mind on it. For someone who had been constantly focused on plans for the future only a few days ago, this was more than a little strange. There were simply more important things to consider now.

  He leaned back, letting his head fall against the wall behind his bed, and he sat there, wondering where he might find her, as the house began to fill back up with people.

  He would go immediately to the bank, he decided, and give himself a few hours off the next day to search for her. He could spend the evening thinking of places she might live or work so he could avoid wandering aimlessly around town. It was smaller than San Francisco, to be sure, but there were still dozens of places she could be, and he was sure enough had changed in the past ten years to make this no easy task.

  Mary stormed through the streets, staying off the main thoroughfare to avoid anyone that might notice her unkempt hair or red and distorted face. She didn’t know if she was more angry or guilt-ridden. She had to tell him about her work, about what she had done to survive the previous year. She had resolved to do it, had promised herself, and yet she had ignored all of that the moment she saw him again.

  She loved him more than she had realized, and her dishonesty tore at her. Her stomach lurched as she remembered the sweetness of his gaze as he told her that he would speak to the preacher. He wished to protect her and keep her reputation sound, but what would
he do when he found out that her reputation was already nothing? Would he leave?

  She could not bear the thought of losing him. She had just found him again, after all those years. Her heart was finally whole, and she had no desire to tear it apart again. But there was no way she could blame him if he left. She had made her choices.

  Mary wiped the tears from her eyes. This had gone on far too long. He would learn the truth somehow, of that she was sure. If he tried to find her in town, or went around with his friends, it would be found out. She shuddered to think how much worse it would be if he discovered that she had lied.

  The entire time she had deceived herself into believing that omission was not the same as lying, but that was foolish and wrong. The guilt of that was nearly overwhelming. She wiped away the tears that ran down her cheeks, wanting to curl into a ball and disappear.

  Once she was at the saloon she dashed to her room, thankful that the business was still closed and empty. She flew up the stairs and threw herself onto her bed and sobbed, allowing her emotions to take over.

  Josie was sitting at the mirror trying her hair in various styles when Mary rushed in and fell to the bed in a storm of tears. Her shock and surprise held her still for a few moments before she could guess that something serious had gone wrong between Mary and her Jimmy, and she went over to soothe her friend.

  Mary hadn’t even noticed Josie, and it was only when her friend sat on the bed and placed a hand on her back that she realized someone was in the room with her. Josie spoke, her voice soothing. “It’s all right. Everything will be fine, Mary. Calm yourself down, now. Tell me what’s wrong and I will help.”

  The last few words were raspy, and ended in a harsh cough, that even through Mary’s daze of emotions sounded bad. The cough subsided quickly and Josie waited for Mary’s response.

  Mary just shook her head. She could not discuss the flood of different feelings, the love and despair that were intertwined. Nor could she explain her resolution to tell Jimmy the truth, knowing that it would ruin everything. She had finally found something that could make her happy, and it was already destroyed because of choices that had been hardly choices at all. But how could she explain that? How could he accept what she had done?

  She lay there lost in her own world for a long while, Josie sitting beside her. Eventually, her tears stopped and Josie helped her up. Mary’s exhaustion from the past several days and mental turmoil made her glad to allow someone else to take charge as Josie unlaced her dress and put her into bed, telling her to rest while she left to go tell Daisy that she was sick. Mary nodded and closed her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to shut out the world.

  Mary spent the evening tossing and turning. Occasionally, she fell asleep, but soon she would awaken and go through the problem yet again, trying to find a way to keep Jimmy without continuing to lie to him. She thought there had to be a way, but nothing her mind invented sounded reasonable, and there was no way sweet, innocent Jimmy could look at what she did with anything but revulsion.

  Every few hours, Josie came in and checked on her, speaking soothingly to her and telling her to close her eyes, get some sleep.

  Mary knew her behavior worried Josie; she had always been the strong, independent, resilient one of the girls. Now she was weepy and frail, curled on her bed, and even Mary herself wasn’t sure exactly why.

  Was she crying for Jimmy? Her unlikely hopes and dreams? The employment she had no choice but to take? It didn’t matter much, and it felt almost cathartic to let the tears fall.

  Mary woke up after another few restless hours of sleep to find dawn outside the window and resolution in her heart. The time for tears and grief was over, she knew, and she had to prepare herself to go talk to Jimmy. This morning, before he left for work and she lost one more opportunity. She would tell him the truth and be honest about the situation.

  She only needed to decide what exactly to say—perhaps the right words would stop him from leaving. She wanted help, and there was only one person with whom she could imagine discussing this situation. Someone who had told her she could share any problems; someone she trusted. She got up to dress.

  A short while later, she stood in front of Mrs. Swenson‘s door. She took a deep breath and knocked. After a few moments which felt much longer, Angelina, seeming very groggy, opened the door and looked at her in mild surprise. “Mary? I expected to see you tomorrow. It is too early—” And then she looked a little closer at Mary’s drawn, pale face and her determined expression. “Whatever is the matter, dear? Come in.”

  Mary wasted no time, bursting into explanation the moment she was inside. “Angelina, I need advice, and you are the only person I could think to talk to about this. Will you help me?”

  At Angelina’s nod, Mary began. She told Mrs. Swenson about her childhood friend, Jimmy, of his sudden reappearance into her life, of the feelings he evoked from her, and of the events that had transpired the previous day. She blushed a little when she explained the circumstances, but her voice never wavered.

  Then, Mary shared what Jimmy had said and implied about saving her reputation through marriage, and her dilemma. She wanted desperately to keep him, yet she had decided to be honest with him regardless of the consequences. She had to tell him about her profession, but had no idea how to do so.

  After Mary finished, Angelina sat silent for several moments, looking as if she were in deep thought. Mary waited anxiously for the answers to her troubles. Finally, the older woman lifted her gaze and spoke. “Well, it seems to me there’s not much you need from me. You’ve decided to tell him, and I can tell by your eyes that an entire mule team would be unable to stop you, let alone one little old lady. As for how to tell him, I cannot help you much there, either. You simply need to sit down and say what you need to say. The rest is up to him, I’m afraid.”

  Mary sighed. She had hoped Angelina would have some magic words she could use to make the truth easier to tell, something that Mary would be able to say to Jimmy and he would do no more than shrug and smile, and they could continue on together. But there was no magical way out of her predicament.

  Before she left, Angelina grasped Mary’s hand in her own. “Whatever happens,” the older woman said, “You are one of the strongest women I have ever met. You are a survivor.”

  It did nothing to solve her immediate dilemma, but it lightened Maria’s heart a little. She gave her friend a quick hug and left, prepared to tell the truth, come what may.

  Ten minutes later, she was at Jimmy’s boarding house, rapping quickly on his door, forcing herself to stand motionless when all she wanted to do was run. It took every ounce of her resolve to march directly there after leaving Angelina, but Mary knew that she had to face the situation before her heart could talk her out of doing what her mind knew was best.

  Mrs. Jessup opened the door, and Mary looked down, embarrassed about the impropriety of visiting a man at such an early hour, let alone the reason why she was there. She had resolved to speak to Jimmy, though, and she had gone too far to turn back. “Is Jimmy here, ma’am? I’m…an old friend of his.”

  Mrs. Jessup eyed her critically, but evidently did not recognize her as one of Daisy’s girls—or perhaps chose not to give any indication that she had—and showed her to the parlor. Mary stepped into the room, but continued to stand; she was too anxious to sit still while Mrs. Jessup fetched Jimmy, so she paced, one hand twisting itself in the folds of her dress.

  After a few moments, the sound of rushing feet pounding down the stairs told her of Jimmy’s imminent arrival. She held her breath, steeling herself for the task ahead of her.

  As he stumbled through the doorway, slowing from his half-run, he grinned and sighed her name. She smiled back, but it was a sad smile, missing the contentedness and pleasure that lit his.

  Jimmy faltered at her expression; something was wrong, and he thought he knew the problem. He rushed to her and hugged her close, speaking softly into her hair. “Maria, I am so very sorry about yesterday.
I never meant to imply that I would marry you simply to save your reputation or that what we did was a mistake. That is far from the truth.”

  He stepped back and looked into her eyes, his heart thumping wildly. “I love you, Maria, and I want to marry you for that reason.”

  Her eyes swam with tears. She pressed herself against him, holding him as close as she could. “I love you, too,” she whispered.

  His arms tightened around her, and she knew he had heard. She never wanted to let go. His voice was low, and it rumbled through her as he spoke. “We’ll be happy together, Maria. I will take the manager position here and we can get a nice big house here in town.”

  But she could not miss another chance to tell the truth. It had been too long coming, and if she let him stand there and plan out their life together, she might lose her nerve yet again.

  She pulled away from him and pressed him into a chair, but remained standing herself. It was time. “Jimmy, I—“

  She paused, trying to put her words in order. In the silence, she heard a low, quiet rumble, and felt a slight shaking of the floor.

  Earthquakes were unsettling, but she was accustomed to them, living in California. She breathed slowly, finding her bearings and allowing the tremor to pass before she continued.

  The earth kept shaking, though, and the rumbling grew as the quake increased in strength. Then there was a single giant lurch of the ground beneath their feet, and Mary fell to the floor. Jimmy lurched out of his seat and dropped beside her, encircling her in his arms protectively. She nestled into them as she heard objects falling from their shelves, the clunk of dry goods, the clang of tin dishware, and the tinkle of breaking glass, and watched as a few loose boards fell from the walls and ceiling. She felt safe in his arms.

  The quake rumbled for a few more seconds and then drifted away, leaving whatever damage to be dealt with by the human inhabitants of the town. Jimmy released her from his hold and stood, but Mary remained on the floor, where the shakings had tossed her, her hoop skirts billowing around her. Even though she knew her actions would be confusing for the man standing beside her, there was no way to stop herself: she laughed. In all her time considering how to tell Jimmy the truth, she had not once supposed she would be interrupted by an earthquake.