“They weren't here before. I mean, the last time I was here.”
“They were in my room. I brought them out last week; I wanted them where I could see them…” I paused, “for comfort.”
Aaron nodded. “And what were you given to represent the future?” he asked quietly, looking at me, his eyes bored into my soul.
“An empty frame.” It was easy to read the puzzled expression he wore on his face. “I'm to put in a picture that represents my future.” For the first time I knew what I wanted to put in that frame, but knowing that our conversation wasn't over, I didn't dare say.
Aaron pressed his lips together as though in thought as we stood at the table looking at the pictures. “Krista, I…” he paused, “you should sit down.”
Four more words that didn't always mean a happy ending, unless followed by 'You won the lottery!' or something to that effect. I headed back to the couch, sat, and resumed the unattractive, yet seemingly necessary habit of picking at my nails. Aaron sat down beside me again, turning his body to face me.
“This isn't easy for me to say.”
Oh, get it over with! I screamed inside, realizing as I waited, how Brad must have felt.
“I've been doing a lot of thinking, and I'm not sure…”
My mind started to wander for a moment, protecting myself from the words I didn't want to hear. I closed my eyes, both to keep any tears from escaping and to refocus my attention on Aaron, despite the pain.
“I'm not ready…” he began again. “I don't know if I can… I don't know if I can handle this. Us. You.” His eyes filled with uncertainty. My eyes filled with tears, no longer able to hold them back. I kept my head down and blurrily watched as he reached over and took my now shaking hands from my lap. “But maybe… I'm willing to try,” he whispered leaning over to kiss my forehead.
WHAT! I yelled silently inside my head. “What?” I asked looking up at him, the tears spilling from my lids.
“You were right.” I looked at him bewildered. “I think…” he began, “I think we are meant to be together.”
Does he remember something?
“The box my mother left,” he went on to explain, “it was filled with notes. Her notes from when I was a child. Notes on how I used to talk about things. Places. People. All things that I couldn't possibly have known about when I was so young. She documented the dreams I recounted. Words I'd said in my sleep. Stories I told of places far away.”
I stared at him disbelieving, my heart racing, and my mind spinning.
“Do the names Mary and Thomas mean something to you?”
My world went black.
Forty-Three
A thick fog encircled my feet and rose into the air above me; it was as though I were inside a cloud.
“You did it.” Came the whisper of a voice, familiar, yet strange at the same time.
“Did what?” I asked, while turning a slow circle, trying to pinpoint the exact location the voice came from. There was no reply. “Did what?” I asked again, louder. I waited. I was about to ask for the third time when I heard the voice again.
“He will remember!” The voice exclaimed happily.
It was then that I realized the sound was coming from within. “Mary? Is that you?” I asked knowing with every bit of me that it was.
“Yes.”
“Where have you been?” I asked, a bit more harshly than I had intended.
“Where I've always been; with you.”
“Why haven't I felt you, or dreamed of you?” I said, stirring the fog with my hand and watching as it swirled up my wrist.
“You don't need me anymore.”
I stood still and watched as the mist encircled me. It undulated as if a breeze was pushing it along, and yet I felt no movement of air. “What makes you so sure?”
Her voice fell silent. Was that the answer to my question? Silence?
“Don't worry. I will always be a part of you. I am you.” She began to fade away taking the fog with her.
“Wait!” I called. “You haven't told me what I did?” I didn't want her to go. I needed her to stay.
The fog returned briefly and encircled my ankles; then it slowly made its way upward until it swirled around my head. “You found him. Now we can move on.”
I followed the fog with my eyes as it retreated and when it reached my ankles it slowly drifted away. “Mary! Wait! Don't go. I still have so many questions.”
“I'm a part of you.” A faint whisper; a brief memory flickered across my mind. The fog receded, and I felt myself becoming more aware of my surroundings.
Dreams are strange. Sometimes so frightening that it is only upon waking that a sense of relief floods over the dreamer at the realization that the experience wasn't real. Other times, the dreams are so pleasant that the dreamer wishes to stay asleep. When I awoke from my dream, I wasn't really sure how I felt. Part of me felt complete while another part felt like I'd lost my best friend. Either way, it didn't really matter once I realized I was in Aaron's arms.
“Are you alright?” A mild look of concern showed on his face.
“I am now,” I said reaching up and putting my arms around his neck, gently pulling him down so that our lips met. The heat and passion of a hundred and fifty-five years consumed us. Eventually, we pulled apart.
“I'm still confused, Krista,” Aaron said as he sat up straight.
I was lying on the couch with my head resting in his lap. “I know.” I sighed, and sat up too.
“Do you?” he questioned quietly and looked away.
“Yes.” I reached over and grabbed his hands, drawing his attention back to me. A thought crossed my mind and in an instant, I knew what he needed. “Wait here.” I jumped up from the couch, dizziness taking hold of me for a moment.
“You're not going to pass out again are you?”
I looked back at Aaron, concern flashed in his eyes again. “No, just a head rush.” I smiled and headed to my bedroom. I returned seconds later with the notebook in my hand. “Here,” I said, sitting back down on the couch and holding it out to him.
“Ah! This must be the famous notebook then,” he said, taking it from my hand.
“You know about it?” I wasn't really surprised that he did.
“I may have heard something about it, though not a whole lot. I must say I was curious when Peter mentioned it.”
I nodded. “Well read it… it might help.” I got up from the couch. “I'm going to finish getting ready.” I left Aaron sitting on the couch already engrossed in my writings.
When I returned, almost half-an-hour later, he was still sitting there, the notebook on the coffee table in front of him.
“So!” I said joining him.
“Well, that certainly does bring things into perspective. I just wish I remembered it.”
“Why – would it help?”
It took a moment before Aaron answered my question. I supposed he needed to be sure. Finally, he turned toward me and took my hands in his, that familiar electricity coursed through us again – comforting.
“No. I know how I feel about you now – at this very moment. None of that matters.” He pointed to the notebook. “It's just that I wish…”
I interrupted his words, placing my fingers gently on his lips. “Let's make a deal.” Aaron cocked his head to the side. I continued, “From now on, we'll make our own memories; Krista and Aaron's. No more Mary, no more Thomas, just us.”
“You are brilliant.” Aaron leaned over, and we sealed the deal with a kiss.
Forty-Four
I didn't want to go back home to Bourton. Not after the weekend we'd had – not ever. The places Aaron had taken me to, and the things we'd seen and done had been extraordinary. Our itinerary now long forgotten as our relationship had changed from client/tour guide to girlfriend/boyfriend. I would like to have said lovers, but the fact of the matter was that it hadn't evolved into that – not yet. I wanted to stay in London with Aaron, but that wasn't possible. It was still summer,
and he still had clients, yet I only had ten more days.
“Don't go.” I pleaded.
Aaron had brought me back to Bourton, and I didn't want it to end. I pressed myself into his arms, and he held me as we stood in the doorway of my apartment.
“Believe me; I don't want to go, but…” I stopped him with a kiss and melted into his arms, hoping that it would be enough to make him stay. I heard the door close behind him and I smiled, not easily done while kissing. “Are you grinning?” Aaron pulled away from me; his eyes smouldered, a smile on his own face.
“Does that mean you're staying?” I grabbed him by the hand and led him to the living room, not waiting for his answer.
“For a bit,” he said almost breathlessly. He followed obediently, not showing any signs of resistance.
“Good.”
We collapsed in a heap on the couch, drunk with love and lust. Never had I ever felt a love so powerful, so strong, it was all consuming; it was whole; it was pure; it was true – it was unconditional. In each other's arms, we lay in it, wrapped in the comfort and the heat of it, and in that moment, I felt that our souls were joined by it.
“I really should go,” he whispered in my ear. He did not attempt to leave.
“Uh-huh!” It was all I could say, I knew he wouldn't leave – couldn't.
Wherever his lips touched, it left a mark on my flesh. It was not visible to the human eye, only felt by the soul. His lips brushed across mine enticing me – tantalizing and teasing me. Slowly his mouth moved from my lips, followed along my jaw line to my neck, and sent a rush through my body so intense that I shivered beneath him.
“Really though…” He kissed back up my neck to my earlobe where his lips gently pulled, sending another wave of tingles down my body, his hot breath tickled. “I have clients in the morning,” he whispered.
“Uh-huh.” I drew my hands up his back, entwined my fingers in his thick hair, and coaxed his mouth back towards mine. “You should go then,” I whispered mischievously, sealing his lips with my own before he could speak. I felt him shudder in my grasp.
“Okay,” he said, releasing me, moving off the couch, and leaving me lying there. I was shocked by his abruptness and by the sudden chill that washed over me without his body covering mine. He stood by the couch staring down at me and held out a hand. Reluctantly, I reached out and grabbed it and allowed him to pull me up.
“Sorry, but I can't lie there anymore.” He scooped me up in his arms, effortlessly.
“What are you doing?” I giggled as I swung my arms around his neck.
He didn't answer only headed in the direction of the door where he put me down. My shoulders slumped and my eyes looked down at the floor. The smile I had on my face instantly pulled into a frown. He leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead before reaching for the doorknob. I stood there, too shocked by the unexpectedness of it all, to even move, let alone speak. My brain screamed at me for my obvious muteness.
Don't let him leave! I cried inwardly all the while watching as his hand moved in apparent slow motion to the doorknob. I watched as he slowly turned the inner mechanism and locked the door.
“Wouldn't want Aunt Jane to disturb us now, would we?”
My eyes opened wide as his actions registered in my brain. A smile slowly crept across my face. “Does that mean…?” My voice had returned.
“You know perfectly well what that means,” he chuckled as he scooped me up in his arms again and carried me to the bedroom door. I reached down and turned the knob opening it for him. He carried me in, pushing the door closed with his foot.
My eyes fluttered open just as scattered shards of light stretched across the predawn sky; it was the only thing I dared move. Eventually, enough light streamed in through the window showing me what I'd already suspected. A mass of tangled limbs stretched out before me, and in the dim light it was difficult to tell where I began and Aaron ended; the euphoria of it all was still very much alive.
I lightly traced my finger up his arm, watching as it left a trail of goose bumps behind, and yet there was no indication of his waking. I gently lifted his arm, placing it beside me and then slowly pulled my leg out from under his, gradually untangling myself. I held my breath as he rolled over onto his side away from me. I waited another second, and when he had settled, quietly slipped out of bed. I took my robe from the back of the door, put it on, and tiptoed out into the kitchen, pulling the door closed behind me.
Waiting for the coffee to brew, I watched out the kitchen window. Clouds began to roll in, but nothing was going to ruin the elation that encapsulated my body. When the coffee was ready, I poured a cup and ventured outside to the garden.
The air was cool, but I didn't mind, the hot mug in my hands warmed me up. I sat on the weathered stone bench, etched by wind and rain, and took my first sip, feeling the hot liquid run down my throat and pool in my stomach; it felt good. I closed my eyes and tilted my face towards the greying sky.
“Good morning!”
I jumped a little at the familiar and jovial voice. “Good morning, Jane,” I said in an equally jovial voice, my eyes still closed and my face tilted toward the heavens.
“Well, you seem awfully chipper this morning.” Jane's voice drew nearer, and I opened my eyes just as she joined me on the bench, her own cup of steaming tea in her hands.
“Do I?” I feigned ignorance and stifled the smile beginning at the corners of my mouth.
“Quite,” Jane said staring at me. She took a sip of her tea. “So what time did he leave?”
I took another sip of my coffee. “He hasn't, he's still sleep – ing…” My voice trailed off.
A wide grin appeared on Jane's face as she drank from her cup. Warmth radiated up my neck and transformed my face into what I could only imagine an artist's pallet might look like. The slow, deepening heat of embarrassment that I'm sure went from a light glow of pink and gradually deepened to crimson. All my blood had seemingly left my extremities and pooled in my face and neck. My ears were on fire.
Jane giggled and patted my hand, but it did not ease the burning heat. “It's quite all right, dear.” She tried to reassure me.
“How did you know?” I asked when I finally found my voice.
“You forget, dear, I do live underneath you – hmm?”
Just as I thought my ears couldn't possibly burn anymore, they did. I looked at my hands in my lap half expecting them to be ghostly white.
Oh God! I quickly looked back toward the house, somewhat relieved, as I remembered that her bedroom was at the back while mine was at the front, not one above the other, the heat began to ebb.
Jane however, was still staring at me and grinning. “I couldn't sleep last night, so I was up, oh 'till about two this morning watching the telly.”
The heat returned as I realized my bedroom was above her living room.
“Oh, don't worry, love. I can't even hear you walking around upstairs; good insulation.” She sipped her tea. “I saw his car parked in the drive,” she said as an afterthought.
I exhaled loudly, my shoulders relaxed, and I felt my blood returning to the rest of my body.
Jane stood up. “Looks like rain, dear, you should get inside before it starts up,” she said looking around at the sky.
Just then, a small drop of water hit the top of my head, it tickled as it made its way down my scalp, and I idly reached up to scratch it away. I looked up and nodded, wanting to say something, but not knowing what. Instead, I rose and quietly followed behind Jane as we made our way back to the house.
When I reached the bottom of the stairs, and Jane reached her back door, I turned.
“Thank you.” Was all I managed to say, but knowing how easily Jane read my face I was certain that she read a thousand words in just those two.
“Of course, dear.” She smiled. “You better get back to him before he begins to wonder where you are.”
With that, she turned and headed into her home, leaving me staring after her. Slowly, I clim
bed the stairs and just as I reached the top, the skies opened up; I had made it just in time.
Once back inside, I quietly tiptoed to my bedroom door and opened it; Aaron was breathing deeply. I sat on the bed facing his back and gently shook him.
“Hey! Aaron, you should get up now,” I whispered close to his ear, gently rocking his shoulder.
“Huh!” he groaned.
“Aaron, you have to get up, you're going to be late for work.” I said a little louder.
Aaron rolled over and faced me. Slowly he opened one eye and smiled.
“Good morning! Did you have a good sleep?” I laughed.
He stretched his arms above his head, the outline of his muscled body visible under the thin sheet that covered him. “Probably the best I've had in years or maybe ever.” He smiled crossing his arms behind his head. He was now wide-awake with a wide grin spreading across his face.
“Well, I hate to disturb that great sleep of yours, and as much as I don't want you to leave, don't you have clients to see today?”
“I have time.” Before I knew it, Aaron had reached over and grabbed me, pulling me on top of him.
“Oh you do? Time for what exactly?”
“For this.”
Aaron easily flipped me over onto my back and covered me with the full length of his body, smothering my face with soft, warm kisses. He reached up and brushed the hair back from my forehead.
“What's this? A scar?”
I reached up and felt the mark just above my right eye in my hairline. “Nothing to worry about, I was born with it, just a strange birthmark. Don't let it distract you.” I smiled.
Aaron grinned playfully. “Everything about you distracts me.” He leaned forward, kissing my forehead and continued where he left off. I didn't resist as he worked his way down my neck. I felt him reach for the tie on my robe and before I knew it, he had it undone in one adept move. His hand, warm and soft, glided underneath, each feathery touch sent ripples of goose bumps as his fingers lightly brushed up my side.
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