Wrecked

by Harmon, AJ

  He waited so long that he made himself another cup of tea. He’d never been much of a tea drinker until he’d met Bess. It sounded silly to him, but it was something that he only shared with her. Yeah, he thought as he stirred in a sugar cube, I’m an idiot.

  And then he heard her coming down the stairs and he let out a sigh of relief as her steps became louder the closer she came to him. His back was to her as he stared out of the window above the sink and when he heard his name fall from her lips, he smiled. If she had no explanation for talking to her imaginary friend, he’d be okay with it. He’d have to be because he loved her and that was far more important to him than anything else.

  But as he turned around, his jaw dropped open and the full cup of tea slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor, the scalding liquid splashing up his leg and the china tea cup smashing into dozens of sharp pieces.

  23.

  Captain Andrew Wentworth stood in the kitchen - almost the exact same spot where his beloved Lizzie had died – and stared at Ethan. Elizabeth held his hand, as if to give him the support he needed to be introduced to the man who’d captured her heart and started it beating with purpose again.

  “Ethan,” Bess stammered. “This is Andrew.”

  When no reply came, Bess continued.

  “I know this is going to be… quite… difficult, but Andrew lives here and has done so for… well… a long time.”

  “How the hell…” Ethan didn’t know what to say. He didn’t understand what he was seeing.

  “Let me explain,” Andrew said. “Why don’t you have a seat.” Then he turned to Bess and said, “I hate this part.”

  Bess just scowled at him in jest and shook her head, released his hand, and helped Ethan to the sofa in the family room and sat down next to him, her hand on his knee.

  Andrew was wearing what he always wore; his frilly white shirt, open at the neck, his hair tied back in a black ribbon, his white breeches, and black leather boots that came up to his knees. The difficult part for Ethan, however, was not his attire, but the fact that he could see right through Andrew.

  “You…”

  “Am a ghost. Yes, I know,” Andrew smirked.

  “But how?” Ethan mouthed.

  “I have no explanation for you,” Andrew declared.

  “He’s trapped here,” Bess offered. “He’s waiting for his daughter to return, and he can’t leave until she does.”

  “His daughter?” Ethan marveled.

  “Yes, Andrea. Andie. But obviously she has died, seeing as though she was born in 1779,” Bess added.

  “WHAT?” Ethan threw his hands in the air in shock and then jumped up and began pacing the floor. “This is not real.”

  “It is, Ethan,” Bess assured him. “Andrew is real.”

  “He’s a… a… ghost?”

  “He is, and he’s my friend. This is who I have been talking to. I’m not crazy,” she chuckled.

  “Maybe we both are,” Ethan babbled to himself as he continued to pace back and forth.

  Andrew stepped in front of him, essentially blocking his path, as Andrew knew that Ethan wouldn’t try to walk through him, even though it was actually quite easily done.

  “This has come as a shock to you.”

  “No shit, Sherlock,” Ethan muttered.

  “How about you try and relax and let me tell you who I am… was,” Andrew offered.

  “Please?” Bess begged.

  Ethan did as he was asked and sat back down on the sofa, Bess right beside him and pulled his hand into hers. She smiled at him in encouragement and Ethan took a deep breath.

  “Let’s have it,” he uttered.

  Andrew began at the beginning, just as he’d done with Bess. He told Ethan about Elizabeth Sherton and how quickly they’d fallen in love. He told him about her father’s absolute refusal to let them marry and of his decision to join the Navy and find his fortune as other men before him had done. And with great reverence, Andrew spoke of their last night together when their love had created a new life – Andrea – the daughter he’d never gotten to hold… or kiss… or say goodbye to.

  Ethan listened, captivated by the tale of forbidden love and separation with skepticism and wariness. His expression told Andrew and Bess that he was having a difficult time believing any of it.

  “The idea that I was finally going to see her again,” Andrew continued, “made me push my ship as fast as she could go. My crew worked night and day getting us across the water as quickly as possible. And then I saw land and my heart all but bolted right out of my chest. I was so close.” He paused, looking visibly upset and Bess wiped a tear from her cheek. With a gulp, Andrew went on. “The storm was bad. If I’d been more concerned with the safety of my ship and my crew, I would have not brought her so close to shore, but tried to ride out the storm and waited for calmer seas before bringing her towards the port. As it was, I killed my men and ripped my ship to pieces on the rocks. I was so impatient to see her again… to be with her again, that I ruined everything. The fortune I had acquired was lost, and so was my life.”

  “You’re serious?” Ethan marveled.

  “Very,” Bess solemnly replied. “He found his Lizzie… and discovered he was a father, but all after he’d died.”

  “So she was here?” Ethan asked, his curiosity winning.

  “She lived right here,” Andrew answered.

  “Here? As in this house? Not possible.” Ethan wasn’t going to be fooled.

  “Well, not this exact house,” Bess replied. “But as you told me, this very room was original to the first settlement here on the east coast. Remember? I asked you about it?”

  “That was weeks ago,” Ethan recalled. “You’ve been… friends with him all this time?”

  Bess nodded. “This was built for Lizzie and Andie. It was where they lived until she died.”

  “Lizzie?” confirmed Ethan.

  Bess nodded. “Probably of tuberculosis.”

  “Oh,” Ethan exhaled. “Not good.”

  “No,” Andrew agreed. “It wasn’t good. And then her father, William, came and took Andie and I had no idea where they went.”

  “I can’t even imagine,” Bess cried, unable to hold the sadness in.

  “No,” Ethan agreed and squeezed her hand.

  “She never even got the pearls,” Andrew said to himself.

  “The pearls!” blurted Bess. “Do you think they’re still there? In the fireplace?”

  “What pearls?” Ethan inquired, but to no one. Both Bess and Andrew had hurried to the original brick fireplace and were examining it in great detail.

  “Get a chisel and hammer!” Andrew barked to Ethan.

  Without giving it a second thought, Ethan leapt from the sofa and ran out of the house and back to his garage, retrieving the required tools and racing back to Bess. By the time he’d returned, Andrew was sure he knew which brick it was that needed to be removed. Bess stood by impatiently as Andrew instructed Ethan what to do.

  “I know how to do this,” Ethan snapped. “Back off would you. Please?”

  Bess looked at Andrew and shrugged, then they both took two steps back. Two seconds later, Ethan had popped the brick out and held a small black velvet bag in his hand. His jaw dropped and he believed. Bess wasn’t crazy… and neither was he. Andrew was a real ghost and inhabited his house.

  “So you’re telling me, that the whole time I lived in this house, you were here?” Ethan questioned Andrew as he slowly turned around.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  “Doubtful,” Andrew chuckled good-naturedly.

  “Here.” Ethan opened his hand and gave Bess the velvet bag. She burst into tears.

  *****

  As Bess and Andrew cried over finding the pearls, Ethan saw the bond they had forged and felt like an intruder… a third wheel. He wasn’t jealous. In fact, he had no clue how he felt. The last hour had been nothing short of a make-believe story from a third-rate novel. Ghosts.
Shipwrecks. Hidden pearls. It was fantasy, nothing more. Yet, as Ethan found himself walking back to his house after assuring Bess he was fine and just needed to check his email and voicemail, he was convinced that Andrew was a ghost and his story was not fiction. The idea didn’t settle well.

  After answering one email, Ethan grabbed his laptop and sat down at the island in his kitchen and began searching for any evidence that Captain Andrew Wentworth existed. It took all of about twenty minutes and he had The Mighty Elizabeth’s registry number and confirmation that William Sherton had a daughter named Elizabeth and that they had left England in the summer of 1778 for America. He had been a member of Parliament in England so his arrival in the US had been well-documented at the time. Ethan leaned back in his chair, ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled loudly.

  “Well,” he mumbled. “What a night.”

  “Ethan?” Bess yelled as she ran into the house.

  “Kitchen!” he yelled.

  “Are you okay?” she asked as she ran to him.

  “I think so,” he chuckled. “It’s been an interesting evening.”

  She jumped into his lap and threw her arms around his neck, laying her head on his shoulder. “I am so relieved that you know. It’s been so hard not telling you, but Andrew wouldn’t let me, and besides, it wasn’t my story to tell.”

  “I understand.”

  “Do you? Really?” Bess lifted her head and peered into his eyes.

  “I do,” he smiled and nodded.

  “Are you upset with me?”

  “Why on earth would I be?”

  “Well, you know, I have a ghost for a friend,” she laughed.

  Ethan laughed too. “I think it’s fine.”

  “Oh, good. I’m glad you’re not angry because I have an idea to help Andrew and I think I’m going to need your help.”

  24.

  With brows furrowed, Ethan gazed into Bess’s eyes. He was in love with her and she could ask him to fight lions and he’d probably do it for her. A request to help Andrew was easy to agree to.

  “What is your plan and what do you need me to do?”

  Bess smiled that smile that melted his heart in an instant. Yeah. He would fight lions and tigers and bears all at the same time if that’s what she wanted. Gladiators too.

  When the weekend finally came, Bess was packed and ready to go by seven on Saturday morning. Ethan could only laugh as she jogged in place and whined about his slow coffee drinking.

  “You can put it in a travel mug and take it with us. Come on,” she pleaded.

  Bess’s plan was in full swing and Ethan had made it happen. The weekend would be spent in Boston with a genealogical specialist who had been given as much information as they had on Elizabeth and Andrea and was already elbows deep in research. And, per Bess’s orders, Andrew knew nothing about it.

  Over the couple of days after Ethan had met Andrew, evenings were spent in Bess’s family room, the three of them. Ethan found Andrew to be articulate, intelligent, and had a dry, but fun, sense of humor. There were moments when Ethan would look at Andrew and then Bess and have to shake his head at the absurdity of the situation. It was a scratch-your-head-in-disbelief kind of moment… every time. Once they pulled onto the freeway and began the drive to Boston, Ethan replayed the conversations of the past week over and over again in his mind. Nobody would believe him if he told them about Andrew, not that he would tell anyone. He had agreed that it was best that it was kept between the three of them.

  The three of them, Ethan thought as he weaved through the Saturday morning traffic. It was such a bizarre situation it made him smile.

  “What?” Bess asked, noticing the smile appear on his face.

  “I was just thinking about how crazy this all is. I mean, six months ago, if someone had told me this is what I’d be doing today, I would have committed them to a psychiatric hold myself.”

  Bess laughed. “Oh, I know the feeling.”

  “It is pretty miraculous that we are here… together,” Ethan continued. “I had pretty much given up on finding anyone in Port Lincoln that was someone I could envision marrying. And then you arrived in an ambulance and somehow I knew that you would be an important person in my life, although I didn’t know at that moment just how important.” He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of her hand and then turning it over and kissing the inside of her wrist. “Elizabeth Williams, I am very much in love with you.”

  Smiling shyly, Bess looked up at Ethan and quietly said, “I love you, too.”

  It was the first time she’d told him how she felt and Ethan gasped in joy. “I’m very happy to hear that.”

  “It’s not easy for me to say,” Bess admitted sadly. “My life hasn’t been full of gushing sentiments and displays of physical affection.”

  “Well, we can change that,” Ethan promised and kissed her wrist again. “I will tell you every day how I feel and hold your hand in public and do all those things that I thought were cheesy,” he chuckled. “Because I have realized that it isn’t cheesy at all, but rather nice.”

  “No, it’s not cheesy,” Bess agreed.

  Ethan drove the last few miles to the hotel with one hand – his other still held Bess’s and he wasn’t letting go, and Bess seemed comfortable with the arrangement.

  As they pulled into the Hyatt, two bellmen helped them from the car and wanted to place their two small overnight bags on a cart and wheel it up to their room for them. Ethan was having none of it. He did however accept valet parking and tipped the bellman as he handed over the keys.

  At the check-in desk, they had to wait a few minutes while other guests were checking out. Ethan had pre-arranged an early check-in as their appointment with the genealogist wasn’t until one o’clock, and when they’d decided on spending the night in Boston, Bess insisted that they leave in plenty of time. Four hours early seemed a tad excessive for Ethan, but Bess was so excited at the prospect of discovering what had happened to Andie, she couldn’t wait to get going.

  “Welcome to the Hyatt, Dr. James. We have your room ready for you. I just need a credit card and a valid ID.”

  Ethan pulled out his wallet and gave the clerk his American Express and driver’s license.

  “How many keycards will you be needing?”

  “Two,” replied Ethan.

  *****

  Bess walked into the hotel room, Ethan right behind her carrying their bags. She knew that they were sharing a room, and she’d been fine with the idea at the time. But now it became all too real.

  Being a sixteen-year-old girl, Bess had been very interested in clothes, make-up, music, celebrities, and of course, boys. She represented the average American teenager perfectly. She was a happy girl, despite the lack of love she felt at home. While not one of the popular kids, she had friends at school and was a good student. Her teachers liked her and she never got into any sort of trouble. And then there were the boys. She’d had several major crushes by the time she’d turned sixteen but hadn’t had a boyfriend. The boys that she always seemed to be interested in, didn’t seem to notice she was alive. But after all, that’s what high school memories are made of – unrequited love. Bess had sat at lunch and awkwardly stared at the young men that made her heart go pitter-patter, and watched the football and basketball games in awe of their physical prowess. She dreamed at night, and day-dreamed in class about the perfect prom night, even perhaps experimenting a little and finding out for herself what was so amazing about getting to second or third base. She’d done a little kissing but nothing more and looked forward to the day when she was ready to lose her virginity to the boy she would one day marry after they graduated from college. Yes, she was just a typical teenage girl.

  And then it all changed.

  The night her stepfather entered her bedroom unannounced and climbed into bed with her, it all changed. The night her stepfather tried to rape her and take from her what she refused to give him, it all changed. The night her mother lo
oked at her with such disdain and hatred, after she’d kneed her stepfather in the balls as hard as she could, her life changed. In that instant, she was no longer your typical teenage girl.

  Bess had packed her clothes and a few personal possessions into a duffel bag and a small carry-on suitcase, loaded it in her car and left without looking back. She didn’t say goodbye. She didn’t leave a note. She didn’t call her mother to tell her where she was. She backed out of the driveway telling herself that she was angry not upset; resilient not weak; capable not dependent; a survivor not a victim. She’d driven to her best friend’s house and stayed for three months until she could afford to rent a room in an apartment building that catered to the local college kids, and in the summer she’d bounce around to relatives on her father’s side until she’d saved some more money and could move back into an apartment for the school year.

  Her employer at the burger joint loved her – she was always on time and worked hard – so when Bess asked for as many hours as he could give her, he did as she’d asked. Once she turned seventeen it was much easier, as child labor laws changed with her age and Bess was legally allowed to work as much as she could, which she did. She still kept her grades up and was able to pay her rent each month on time.

  But as grown up as Bess appeared, she was nowhere near the adult she was made to behave like. And repressing the feelings and emotions she’d not allowed herself to work through only caused more isolation and loneliness. When Bess graduated from high school, the once lively, happy girl with friends and dreams of the future had been replaced by a sullen introvert who could only look to the end of the month. Anything past that was too far away to be real… or warrant attention.

  Attending college was a dream of that other girl, not the young woman Bess had become. She worked two, sometimes three jobs in order to pay her bills and have enough money to put a little aside in case of an emergency. Bess lived a day at a time. It was the only way she knew how.