Henry knew the Adlers had significant scholarship and funding programs in place so few children ever had to be turned away, but he imagined many families still sacrificed a great deal to make the situation work for their kids. He made a mental note to ask Jeff for a little more of Daniel’s background. It might offer some additional insight as he worked to personalize Daniel’s writing assignments.
* * *
At the end of Monday’s staff meeting a few days later, Henry gathered his notes from the conference room table and headed toward the door. He was a few paces behind Eliza and Flip, and though he wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, it wasn’t difficult to follow their conversation.
“We’ll leave at six thirty, then,” he heard Flip say. “I’m glad you’re coming with me. See you in a bit.”
Henry watched Flip gently touch Eliza’s arm before leaving her and heading out the back door of the admin building. Henry stood still for a moment, his emotions morphing from jealousy to disappointment, then quickly to resignation. He had done this. He had pushed Eliza away. It was only natural she would grow closer to Flip.
He shook his head as if to physically dislodge the jumble of feelings from his mind. This was ridiculous. While Eliza stopped to talk to Natalie, he snuck past her and moved to the front door, stepping into the dimming sunshine of the late afternoon.
Outside, Henry saw a man standing at the bottom of the porch’s large front steps, facing away from the building. There was something in his body language that Henry thought seemed hesitant. Parents of prospective students didn’t often drive out to Rockbridge, but it wouldn’t be the first time someone had shown up without an invitation. Henry approached him to see if he needed help.
The man stood as tall as Henry, nearly six feet. His hair was dark, speckled with gray.
“Excuse me,” Henry said. “You look lost. Can I help you find someone?”
The man turned, his eyes searching Henry’s face before speaking. “Henry?”
It took only a moment for Henry to recognize the eyes and jawline that mirrored his own reflection. His heart raced as his mind traveled back twenty-five years to the prison where he’d last seen his father. And now he was here, standing not two feet in front of him, a look of hopeful expectance on his face.
“It’s you.” Eliza spoke from where she stood at the top of the steps.
The man looked at Eliza and raised his eyebrows in question. “Have we met?” He looked back at Henry and ran his hand through his hair, leaving it messy and askew.
Henry felt like he was having an out-of-body experience as he watched Eliza descend the remaining stairs and walk toward the man standing before him. He had to fight the urge to flee, to run like a frightened boy into the woods and never look back.
He felt sick.
He needed to breathe, to think, to calm himself down somehow, but his world was spinning, and the only emotion he could latch on to was anger. Turning back to the admin building, he climbed the steps and walked to the end of the porch, where he gripped the railing to steady himself. He took slow, deliberate breaths and closed his eyes, hoping to find some sense of control.
He felt Eliza approach behind him.
“Are you all right?” she softly whispered.
He turned and looked at her. “You don’t talk to me.” His voice was cold and distant. “I told you . . . I . . .” He paused and took another deep breath, trying his best not to yell. “You knew I didn’t want any contact with him. You knew, and you meddled anyway.”
“Henry, I didn’t—”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t,” he hissed. “How else would he show up here? How would he know how to find me?” Henry looked up. The man still stood there awkwardly, looking in the opposite direction as if to give Henry a moment of privacy to process his presence.
“I don’t know,” Eliza said. “But I didn’t call him. You have to believe me, Henry. I would never do that to you.”
He felt her hand on his arm, but he shrugged it off. He was too far gone to be receptive to what little comfort she could offer.
“Henry, please . . . talk to me.”
Henry shook his head. “There’s nothing to talk about.” He left her standing alone and walked back down the stairs.
William Harrison cleared his throat. “I guess I should have called first.” His voice was gruff, weathered, with a faint twinge of a Southern accent.
“I’m sorry for your trouble,” Henry said curtly. “But you shouldn’t have called. You shouldn’t have called, and you shouldn’t have come.”
Henry turned away and hurried around the corner of the building. He wasn’t sure where he was headed, but when he reached the parking lot and saw his car, he knew he wanted to get farther away than just his own apartment. He pulled out his keys, and without so much as a glance back at the administration building, he climbed into his car and drove away from the father he hadn’t seen or spoken to in twenty-five years.
Instead of driving toward Rose Creek, Henry went deep into the mountains, crossing into Nantahala National Forest. For nearly thirty minutes, he wove around the curvy mountain roads, trying to shake the image of William Harrison out of his mind. But it was no use.
He imagined Eliza on the porch, still speaking with him in her kind and generous way. The thought pulsed through him like fire, angering him to the point that he barely slowed enough to make it safely around an approaching curve.
At the next pull-off, an overlook that provided an expansive view of the mountains and the tiny dot of Rose Creek nestled neatly into the valley, he stopped the car and climbed out. It was cooler here because he’d risen several hundred feet in elevation.
He strode to the rock wall that rimmed the small parking area and sat down, looking out into the vast expanse of the mountains. They were so blue in the fading light of early evening, he almost couldn’t tell where mountains stopped and sky started. The beauty of it all calmed him little by little until finally he was able to rationally consider why he was so angry in the first place.
For a moment, he wondered if perhaps Harrison had made contact with someone in his family, discovering his whereabouts from them. But he quickly dismissed the idea as impossible. No one in his family would have given out Henry’s personal information without asking him how he felt about the matter.
Eliza’s involvement, on the other hand, made perfect sense. Rockbridge was a small dot on a large map. It would never occur to anyone to look for it, and it was nearly impossible to stumble upon it by chance. She had insisted she wasn’t involved, that she would never do that to him, but what other explanation was there?
If it was Eliza, she had crossed a line—gone far too deep into his personal life—and for what? Did she expect him to embrace the man like he was the long-lost father he’d always hoped to have? Henry wasn’t like her.
It wasn’t easy for him to handle his emotions even with people he’d known and lived with his entire life. To throw him in the ring with this man—the man who had signed away his right to be a father—and expect him to know what to say? It wasn’t fair. It was cruel, even, for Eliza to do such a thing when she knew full well how strongly Henry felt about not having any involvement. He’d made himself perfectly clear.
Why hadn’t she listened?
For the first time in weeks, his bitter anger still seething just under the surface, Henry finally felt justified in having pushed Eliza away.
Chapter 16
Eliza stood just inside the door of the admin building and watched William Harrison; he’d been sitting on one of the porch’s split-log benches since Henry had driven away forty-five minutes earlier. He was likely waiting, hoping Henry might return once he calmed down, but Eliza was afraid he was setting himself up for disappointment. Henry wouldn’t come back until he was sure William Harrison was gone.
The man scratched his chin and glanced at his watch for the second time since Eliza had started watching him. She was trying to stay away—to keep as much distance as possible so Henry wouldn’t accuse
her of meddling, but William Harrison looked so sad it felt wrong to ignore him any longer.
Putting on a brave face, she pushed open the door and walked to where Henry’s father still sat.
“Do you mind if I sit with you?”
“I don’t mind.” He shifted over to make room for her on the bench.
“My name is Eliza. I’m a friend of Henry’s.”
“I’m William Harrison, but I guess you already know that.” He extended his hand. “People just call me Bill.”
“Are you waiting for him to come back?”
“I don’t know. I just came all this way. I guess I’m hoping if he calms down a little, maybe he’ll want to see me.”
“I’m sure it was quite a shock to see you standing there.”
“I didn’t expect him to recognize me. I saw his picture on the website, so I knew it was him, but I didn’t think he’d know me. I thought I might have the opportunity to introduce myself, sort of explain who I am.”
“You might have underestimated the family resemblance,” Eliza said. “It’s pretty amazing.”
Bill kept his eyes down. “He looks exactly like I thought he would, like I always pictured him.”
“He’s a good man, Bill. One of the best I know.” There was so much more Eliza wanted to say. She wanted to tell Bill about AJ, about Henry’s teaching and writing. She wanted to tell him about Henry’s goodness and compassion for people, for his steadying presence. But she couldn’t do it; it wasn’t her information to share.
“How did you know who I was?” Bill asked. “When you saw me, it seemed like you knew me.”
Eliza almost felt ashamed to tell him how she knew. That was foolish though. He knew just as well as she did that he’d spent time in prison. What good did it do to pretend otherwise? “I saw your picture on the Department of Corrections website. Henry has seen it too. That might explain how he recognized you so quickly.”
“So he was looking for me,” Bill said.
Eliza shook her head. This wasn’t a situation that sugarcoating would benefit. “No, Bill,” she said gently. “Henry told me he had been adopted as a young child and that his only memory of you was when he came to visit you in prison. It was only curiosity that led him to look, but I don’t believe he had any intention of seeking you out.”
“I see.” He leaned back against the wall of the building and shook his head. “Thing is, someone called. I answered the phone, but there wasn’t anyone there. The caller ID said this place.” He motioned to the building behind him. He sat up straight and looked at Eliza, a sudden fire in his eyes. “You know, I think about him all the time. I’ve always wondered if he would ever want to know me. I guess I hoped when I saw a number and a place I didn’t recognize that maybe it would have something to do with him. I went down to the library, had ’em look up the name of the school on the Internet, and there he was.” His voice trailed off as he slumped back into the wall once more. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say so much.”
It must have been Henry who called, Eliza reasoned—called and then hung up. It surprised her to think he would do such a thing, but she hadn’t made the call, and there was no one else who would have known to do so.
Bill glanced at his watch one last time. “Well, I guess I’ve waited long enough. I hope I didn’t cause any trouble between you and Henry.”
“I’m sure it will be all right,” she assured him, though she was hardly convinced herself. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay a little longer?”
Bill just shook his head. “It’s mighty nice of you to suggest it, but if Henry has any of my blood in him, a couple hours isn’t going to make a difference. I told myself I’d give him an hour, and then I’d head on down the road.”
“But you came all this way. It seems such a shame to not even have a real conversation with him.”
“‘You shouldn’t have called, and you shouldn’t have come’? I believe that’s about as real as it gets,” Bill said. “It was nice to meet you, Eliza.”
Eliza walked with him down the stairs and across the lawn to the visitor parking lot. Bill shook her hand one more time, said good-bye, and climbed into an old model truck that sputtered to life when he cranked the ignition. He revved the engine and slowly pulled onto the main road. Eliza watched him until his truck disappeared behind a curve. She shook her head sadly. How could it be right for things to end this way?
She couldn’t erase Henry’s past. She couldn’t undo the feelings of hurt and anger that hung between Henry and Bill, but that didn’t mean it seemed fair that after driving all this way, Bill would leave again with nothing more than a harsh couple of sentences thrown in his direction.
Even worse than the disappointment she felt over Henry’s disastrous family reunion was the knowledge that he thought her responsible. How could he even think her capable of such willful deceit?
Tears fell freely now that Bill was gone, and Eliza felt close to crumbling. She hurried to her apartment then, not wanting to cause a scene any bigger than what had already transpired.
Henry would have to listen. He would have to let her explain. He simply hadn’t made the connection between his own phone call and his father’s arrival at Rockbridge. Eliza admitted she was pretty impressed with Bill’s sleuthing skills. Henry would understand when she explained what had really happened. He would realize this wasn’t her fault.
Except, maybe it was her fault. She was the one who had looked for Henry’s father online in the first place. She was the one who had told Henry about the tattoo, who had suggested that maybe he ought to pursue a relationship with the man. She was the one who had meddled, who had projected her own happy ending with her mom into Henry’s life, even though, clearly, it wasn’t the ending he desired.
Guilt washed over Eliza, joining the anger and hurt already coursing through her. Inside her apartment, she went into the bathroom and splashed several handfuls of cold water onto her face. She washed off what little makeup was left and dried her face with a towel.
She had to get a hold of herself. She glanced at her watch and realized she and Flip were supposed to meet in just a matter of minutes to leave for Rose Creek. He was meeting with the missionaries for the first time and had asked her to come along.
Wearily, she reapplied her makeup, taking extra care to cover the dark circles and splotchy red now surrounding her eyes. It would take all her energy not to think about Henry while they were gone. She could only hope that when she returned to Rockbridge, Henry would be home and willing to hear her out.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, Eliza met Flip in the parking lot in front of the staff apartments. She glanced over at the empty spot where Henry usually parked.
Where are you, Henry?
“You all right, Eliza?” Flip asked.
She forced a smile. “I’m fine.”
“I heard there was a bit of an uproar after staff meeting,” Flip said casually. “Someone showed up to see Henry? Am I right in assuming it wasn’t someone Henry wanted to see? Natalie said she saw him peel out of here like he was running from a tornado.”
Eliza kept her eyes down, not wanting to reveal the depth of her feelings regarding the matter. “I don’t want to talk about Henry’s personal life, Flip. Are you ready to go?”
“Fair enough,” Flip said. “I’m ready when you are.”
They drove down the mountain in relative silence. At Andrew and Kate’s insistence, they were meeting with the missionaries at the Porterfields’ old farmhouse. Eliza had hesitated only because Kate’s baby was due to arrive any day. She hadn’t wanted to put more stress on the couple as they prepared for the birth, but Kate had assured her the distraction would be welcome.
Eliza knew she needed to do something to lighten the mood before they arrived at the Porterfields’. Flip had nothing to do with the drama she and Henry had experienced earlier; she ought to be able to put it from her mind for his sake. His meeting with the missionaries was a big deal, and she needed to
be present, not just physically but mentally and emotionally as well. She took a deep breath and willed her focus onto Flip. “Are you nervous?”
Flip smiled. “Who, me? I don’t know. You said the missionaries were pretty harmless. I expect I’ll come out all right.”
“I hope so,” Eliza said. “It’s just up here on the left.” She pointed to the long gravel drive up ahead. “You’ll like the Porterfields too. They’re a great couple. Kate just joined the Church a few years ago, after she met Andrew.”
“Was Andrew already a Mormon, then? I wonder if he had anything to do with her conversion.” Flip gave Eliza a knowing look.
“You should ask her,” Eliza said pointedly. “I’m sure it’s not the first time she’s heard it. I don’t think her family was too happy about her baptism. She’s probably had to defend her choice many times before.”
Flip stopped the car and turned off the engine. “She doesn’t have to defend anything to me. I’m sure she made the decision for the right reasons. I’m just saying, I expect the boyfriend didn’t make it any harder.”
Eliza rolled her eyes. She believed Flip when he said he’d never be so foolish as to join the Church just for her. But it was definitely implied that Flip thought his joining the Church would reignite the possibility of the two of them taking their friendship to a more serious level. Two weeks ago, Eliza might have considered it. But now? She forced the thought of Henry out of her head. If she let Henry in now, the rest of her evening was done for.
“Let’s go inside,” she said to Flip. “That’s the missionaries’ car. They’re already waiting for us.”
* * *
The missionaries did a wonderful job in their meeting with Flip. Flip’s questions were thoughtful and revealed quite an extensive knowledge of world religious history and, much to his credit, an open willingness to consider the reality and truthfulness of the message the missionaries shared. Eliza scolded herself for doubting his intentions. It had been shallow of her to assume she was at the center of his decision.
As the discussion continued, Eliza went to the kitchen to find the Porterfields. Kate and Andrew had welcomed Eliza and Flip at the door and had invited them into the living room, but after that, they had made themselves scarce. Eliza was surprised. She thought the two of them would have wanted to join them, so when she heard noises in the kitchen, she thought she’d check to make sure everything was all right. She didn’t want to overstay their welcome.
Mountains Between Us Page 14
