The Color of Forever

by Julianne MacLean

  Hi, are you here? It was Jack.

  I texted him back: Yes. I’m standing behind the Shake Shack. I see you.

  I pressed send and watched him from afar. He checked his phone again, then raised his eyes and looked directly at me.

  My whole body exploded with chaos and commotion. I couldn’t seem to move, because I was certain I did recognize him, and the shock of it was almost debilitating.

  He raised a hand to wave at me. I waved back and started walking toward him.

  Chapter Forty-nine

  “Katelyn,” Jack said confidently, sauntering closer. I took in his friendly expression and tousled golden hair beneath the hat, and the smoky blue of his eyes.

  I held out my hand to shake his. “Hi Jack. It’s nice to meet you.”

  He regarded me with a look of intense fascination, as if he were searching my face for some sign or clue about something.

  I felt the same urge—to seek answers. To know who he was. To connect the past with the present.

  But was he truly who I thought he was? Or was I just imagining the likeness?

  Surely, there could be no mistaking it, and it wasn’t simply a physical resemblance. Yes, there was a similarity in the distinctive facial features, the casual swagger, and the short, strapping build, but there was also an intuitive recognition on my part. A knowledge of the heart. It took me straight back to 1878, when I had felt such an immediate, relaxed affection for the kind and caring Mr. Williams, who had been such a good friend to me when I needed one.

  Or rather, he had been a friend to Evangeline.

  I could barely process it. I was in shock—not just because I recognized this man from Evangeline’s life, but because I believed he recognized me as well. At least I thought he might…

  “Are you hungry?” Jack asked, “or would you like to walk for a bit?”

  “Let’s walk,” I replied, turning to go deeper into the park.

  We strolled side by side for what felt like endless moments of intense wonder. He glanced at me a few times, and we met each other’s gazes with a touch of unease, as if we were both afraid to enter into a conversation. Was it because he wanted to ask if I had lived in another century, or was he simply shy?

  “Thank you for meeting me,” he said.

  “Thank you for inviting me.” The awkward silence stretched on for a few more seconds.

  “This may sound strange,” Jack said at last, “but I kind of feel like we already know each other.”

  Clearly, he was feeling me out. I wanted to do the same.

  “Yes.”

  He cleared his throat. “How’s your memory for people you might have known before? Like…a really long time ago.”

  “It’s excellent,” I replied, looking up at him sharply. “I’m quite sure I remember more than the average person.”

  Jack stopped and faced me on the path. Others in the park had to file past us, but I didn’t care if we were in the way.

  Jack continued to scrutinize me, as if he were waiting for me to say something, but I didn’t know what to say. My brain had gone numb, trying to comprehend what was happening here. Was I dreaming?

  “It’s really nice to see you, Katelyn,” he said meaningfully. “I’ve been waiting a long time.”

  “But you don’t even know me,” I replied, testing him.

  He seemed to understand exactly what I was up to. “No, I suppose I don’t. But I think we were friends…before. Do you know what I’m referring to?”

  I was careful with my reply. “I think maybe I do.”

  There was a long pause. “You can tell me what you’re thinking,” he said. “I’ll understand. I’m probably the only person in the world who can.”

  In the end, I couldn’t fight his persistence. I had no choice but to surrender. “I do think I know what you’re referring to.”

  As I said the words out loud, my heart exploded with panic, because I didn’t know where this would lead, or what I was supposed to do with this information.

  We started walking again.

  “Did you recognize me from the video samples I sent?” I asked.

  He nodded. “I thought it might be you when my mother called and told me about a red-haired female reporter who was curious about our boat, Evangeline. She told me all the questions you asked, and that you had applied for a job here. I thought maybe you’d been searching for me, so I immediately dug out the recordings you submitted. You look almost exactly the same. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.”

  “You look the same as well,” I said, “and I’m still recovering from the shock of meeting you just now.”

  “So you really do remember…”

  I nodded.

  We walked a few more paces in silence. I found myself still a little afraid to speak openly about what was happening here.

  “How long have you known about this?” I asked.

  “As long as I can remember,” he replied. “I always knew I’d lived another life.”

  There it was, at last, spoken in plain terms.

  “When I was young,” he continued, “I mostly remembered things from my childhood in the past, but everyone told me I just had a vivid imagination. I believed it at the time, because I didn’t know any better. As I got older, memories of that same age in Mr. Williams’s life would come to me. I didn’t have a clear picture of you in my mind until I was in my early twenties, which is when Evangeline and Laurence Williams met at the lighthouse.”

  I stopped again and faced him. “I met your brother, Aaron, in Portland, and he said you don’t get along very well. I’ve been thinking that he might be someone I know as well. Someone we both know.”

  I still couldn’t seem to bring myself to spell it out in words—that I was Evangeline Fraser, Jack was Mr. Williams, and Aaron could possibly be my husband, Sebastian.

  Jack didn’t answer the question. He simply started walking again, very slowly, encouraging me to follow. “Let’s back things up a bit,” he said. “How long have you known about this? When did the memories start?”

  “It’s kind of a long, convoluted story,” I told him. “It started with a vision I had during an accident a year ago, which led me out here to the East Coast. Maybe it was a coincidence, but I booked a room at the Fraser House Inn. I found it online.”

  “Trust me, there are no coincidences,” he said.

  This time, I couldn’t argue.

  “I’m not sure what brought it on,” I continued to explain, “but when I went to sleep one night at the inn, under the portrait of Evangeline, everything came back to me. Well, not everything. Only certain sections leading up to the morning I almost got swept off the rocks at the lighthouse—the morning I went to you after I found out about my husband’s infidelity. Do you remember that?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “I remember every word we spoke that morning, and how Sebastian showed up and dragged me out of my house by my shirt collar.”

  The fact that Jack could recount specific details about a situation I had seen in a dream left me feeling shaken and even more riddled with confusion and awe over the fact that all this might truly be real.

  “There’s a sundial on the lawn that I think might have had something to do with it,” I added.

  “Really,” Jack replied with interest. “I’ve been to the Fraser House a number of times, just to help myself remember things, and I’ve seen that sundial. What makes you think that?”

  For some reason, I wasn’t ready to tell him everything, and I was sorry I had brought it up. Sylvie would kill me if she knew.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I replied, waving a hand dismissively. “Maybe it just sparked a memory of something. I saw a picture of Evangeline and Sebastian, much later in life, standing next to it. But I don’t remember that picture being taken. As I said, I only remember things up to what happened at the lighthouse that morning, when you and Sebastian fought.”

  He nodded. “I know the picture you’re talking about. I researched their lives extensively
.” He glanced at me again. “So you don’t remember anything after what happened that morning?”

  “No. That’s when I woke up and the dream ended. I don’t know much about what happened to you after that, either. There’s only one single picture of you in a book at the Portland Head Light Museum. No other information.”

  He quietly explained. “I left Cape Elizabeth after you had your third child, and I moved to New York to work as a bricklayer, constructing buildings. Some of them are still standing. I go look at them sometimes, and it still feels surreal.”

  “I’m sure it does. This feels surreal to me, too. Did you and I ever see each other again?”

  “No,” he replied. “I knew you would never want to leave your children, so I stayed away. I did my best to move on.”

  “And did you?”

  He let out a small, bitter laugh. “Not very successfully. I eventually married, but we were only happy for a short while. Money was tight and there were mouths to feed.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I replied. “Are you married now?”

  Aaron hadn’t mentioned whether or not Jack had a wife, but I wasn’t sure he would have, because he didn’t seem to enjoy talking about his brother.

  “No,” Jack replied. “I haven’t found the right woman, I guess. I’ve been waiting for all the puzzle pieces to slide into place.” He gazed at me in that moment, with a hint of melancholy, along with that warm, comfortable familiarity that I remembered so well.

  He had once told me he loved me. I had a strong feeling there was still hope in his heart.

  This was too much to take in. Suddenly I felt as if I were drowning in a sea of questions about destiny and fate and what I was meant for, and who I was meant to be with—if anyone. I thought of Mark as well, and the loneliness I had felt in our marriage, even before he left me for Mariah. Bailey had always said he wasn’t “the one.” Maybe she’d been right. Maybe what I had been searching for was the forever kind of love, and I’d wanted it so badly, that for a while I’d convinced myself that Mark was the true mate of my soul.

  But did I know any better now? No—I still felt completely unsure of this life and who I was meant to love.

  “What about your brother, Aaron?” I asked for the second time. “Is he who I think he is? Is he Sebastian?”

  Jack turned to me. “Yes, but he’s completely clueless about it, at least consciously. All he knows is that I have no fondness for him, and he hates me equally in return, but he has no idea why. Not really.”

  “Were you ever tempted to tell him?” I asked. “To talk to him about it?”

  “I did,” Jack explained. “When we were young, I told him we had been enemies once, in another life, but he told me I was crazy and made me feel like an idiot. I stopped confiding in him after that. I never spoke of it again. And we continued to fight over everything. Even from a very young age, we were never very good at sharing.”

  Obviously the animosity between them was rooted very deep, even to this day. I couldn’t imagine what it must have been like growing up in their home.

  “I don’t know what to make of this,” I said, still struggling to find my equilibrium, “or what to do with this information.”

  Jack stopped on the path and touched my arm. “I know it’s a lot. But take your time, Katelyn. I’m here for you, for whatever you need—always.”

  My insides trembled as every single cell in my body darted about in a state of disorientation. I still couldn’t believe this was real, and that here was someone who understood what I was going through. Someone who was the same as me, because he remembered a past life.

  Nevertheless, I couldn’t fail to remember Aaron’s warnings about his brother.

  Aaron’s handsome face flashed in my mind just then. I was whisked back to how it felt to be kissed by him—how the whole world had fallen away beneath my feet. I felt horribly disloyal to him suddenly. And confused.

  I started to walk again, slowly. “I should tell you that I’ve been seeing Aaron this week, and he’s expecting me back tomorrow. He’s waiting for me.”

  Jack walked on in stoic silence. “Are you in love with him?” he asked, point blank.

  The directness of the question hit me hard, like a sudden gust of wind. “I don’t know. We only just met.”

  And I’d been guarding my heart very carefully.

  Jack inhaled deeply, as if steeling himself for whatever might lay ahead. “Please consider staying in New York an extra day. We have a lot of catching up to do, Katelyn, and I’m sure you have more questions.”

  I stopped on the path. “Yes, I do.”

  He regarded me intently in the fading light. “Then let’s go get some supper. I promise I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

  Chapter Fifty

  We took a cab back to my hotel so that I could change into something more casual—a pair of skinny jeans, ballerina flats and a tank top and sweater—while Jack waited in the lobby.

  We then went for dinner at a little Italian restaurant a few blocks away, and drank a bottle of wine while we talked keenly and openly for hours, about our experiences with past life memories and how they had affected our lives in the present. At times, Jack, like me, had suffered from anxiety and feelings of loss and confusion, when he was unable to understand where those feelings were coming from. Then a year would pass, and he would remember something new, and everything would become clearer.

  He told me about some of the books he had read on the subject, and how it was possible that we’d all lived not just one, but a number of different past lives. I asked if he remembered any others, but he did not, and he had no interest in submitting himself to hypnosis and past life regression techniques.

  “I’m okay, dealing with this on my own,” he explained. “I know all I need to know.”

  It struck me, as Jack walked me back to my hotel, that with Aaron, I had shared none of my suspicions about a past life. Bailey, my best friend, was the only person I had fully confided in. What did that say about my feelings toward Aaron and Jack, or Evangeline’s true feelings toward Mr. Williams and her husband? Had she always felt more comfortable sharing her private thoughts with Mr. Williams? I pondered those questions beneath the flashing lights of Time Square as Jack took my hand and shouldered his way through the throngs of people ahead of us.

  At the same time, I couldn’t let myself forget what Aaron had warned me about—that Jack was not to be trusted. Meanwhile, something in me had trusted him enough to spill all of my secrets and fears onto the table between us over dinner that night.

  It had been that way between Evangeline and Mr. Williams as well. He was the person she had gone to more than once, when she needed friendship, comfort or advice.

  My phone buzzed in the front pocket of my jeans just then, and I pulled it out. While Jack walked ahead, I checked it for messages.

  It was Aaron, calling me. It was the second time he had called in the past hour, and again, I ignored it and slipped the phone back into my pocket, because I wasn’t ready to talk to him just yet. I didn’t know what I would say, or what I felt.

  When Jack and I reached my hotel, he walked me into the lobby.

  “Thank you for everything,” I said as I let go of his hand.

  “It was my pleasure,” he replied. “And please don’t go back to Maine yet. I have to go to work tomorrow, but I’ll try to find out what I can about the job offer and let you know. And I’d love to spend more time with you. Can I cook you dinner tomorrow night? I still feel like there’s so much we need to learn about each other. And I have some books you might be interested in. You’re welcome to borrow them.”

  “I need to think about it,” I found myself saying, realizing that if I decided to stay, I would have to call Aaron and tell him I wouldn’t be back the next day, after all. And if I did that, what else would I tell him?

  I said goodnight to Jack and walked to the elevator. As soon as I was back in my room, I called Bailey and told her everything about
my meeting with Jack. She could hardly believe it.

  “He asked me to stay another day,” I said, “and I told him I’d think about it. Meanwhile Aaron’s been calling me, and he expects me back tomorrow. I haven’t answered his calls. I don’t know what to tell him, or what I should be doing. They’re both amazing men and I don’t want to mess this up.”

  “What’s your gut telling you?” she asked.

  “I have no idea.” I sat down on the edge of the bed and thought about it for a moment. “Although, I must say, I’m not as physically attracted to Jack as I am to Aaron. The first moment I laid eyes on Aaron, I wanted to jump his bones right there on his desk. But I feel really, really comfortable with Jack, like I could open up to him about anything. He’s just so down to earth and normal, while Aaron is kind of…” I paused. “Larger than life.”

  “But you believe he’s your husband from another century,” Bailey reminded me.

  “Yes, but what if he was never truly ‘the one’? I don’t remember anything about our lives after that morning at the lighthouse. What if I only stayed with Sebastian because of my children? And to honor my marriage vows? What if I was always secretly in love with Mr. Williams, and he was always the one I was meant to be with? What if that’s what this is all about? To right a wrong. To give Evangeline and Mr. Williams the chance to be together. The chance they never had.”

  Bailey considered that. “I think you need to stay another day in New York and see how you feel about Jack. Besides, he works at CNN. That kind of smacks of fate, don’t you think?”

  I sighed with resignation, because I was thinking the same thing, yet I didn’t know how I was going to tell Aaron I wouldn’t be coming back to Cape Elizabeth just yet.

  Heaven help me, I didn’t want to lose him. Not now, when I was still so unsure.

  After I ended the call with Bailey, I sat for a moment and considered my options. I could always text Aaron and lie—tell him I’d gone to a show that night and had turned off my phone, and that I needed to stay an extra day for a follow-up interview at CNN.