timeaftertime

by Cynthia Luhrs

  “It’s been a tough year. After all these years, you show up now. What, did you meet someone?” The words stuck in her throat, threatening to choke her. At his guilt-filled look, she tripped over a rock, and would have fallen if he hadn’t caught hold of her, his touch searing her skin through the thick sweater.

  “You did.” She couldn’t keep the accusatory tone out of her voice. “Are you getting married?”

  He let go of her arm. “Millie.” He sighed. “It’s complicated.”

  “Forget it. I don’t want to know. Do you have a pen?” How was it possible to hurt this much after so long? Was this karmic payback for all the hurt she’d caused her loved ones over the years?

  He’d brought the manila envelope with him, and held it out just as a gust of wind ripped it from his hands.

  “Bloody hell,” Drake bellowed, chasing after the envelope as it tumbled end over end on the air and landed in the waves, bobbing on the waves before disappearing.

  She couldn’t help it. The laugh burst free even as he scowled. Then the corner of his mouth twitched and he turned away from the ocean.

  “Oh well. I’ll call my lawyer and have another copy sent overnight.”

  “Wait. What? You’re staying?”

  “For a week.”

  “Oh.” The light moment gone, her shoulders slumped. No, he was not doing this to her. Mildred straightened to her full height, replacing hurt with anger.

  “Get out.”

  “Wait. I hoped we could have dinner. Talk about what happened. I need to tell you—”

  “Did you ever love me? Even just a little?” She held up a hand. “No. Don’t answer that. Just leave. When the replacement papers come, I’ll sign them, Drake.”

  She turned away, though she could feel him standing there, watching her. Finally, with a long sigh, he turned and left as she watched out of the corner of her eye. At the walkway, he hesitated, looked back at her, then his expression hardened and he walked out of her life for the second time. At least this time it was her doing.

  A tear ran down her face. She stayed on the beach until the wind and the chill drove her inside. Karen came down, a worried look on her face, and fixed her a bowl of stew with two slices of bread.

  “Do you want to talk?”

  Mildred patted her hand. “No.”

  “I’m here if you change your mind.” Karen brought over chocolate chip cookies, still warm from the oven. “I’m going to take a bath and read in my room.”

  Grateful for the privacy, Mildred nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She ate dinner then washed the dishes. As the day turned to night, she turned on the country station, listening to a woman compare herself to whisky as she drank a glass of wine, letting the memories crash over and pull her under. And only once the house was still and quiet did she come apart at the seams.

  ELEVEN

  How could he have been such a horse’s ass? Drake paced back and forth on the stretch of sand outside his door, the crashing of the waves doing nothing to soothe the churning in his guts.

  He’d planned to fall to his knees, beg her to listen to his tale, but when he drove by and saw the police officer looking at her with love in his eyes, rage filled him that she had not cared for him as he cared for her, as he had loved her. ’Twas not his fault he’d lost his memories. Drake had thought he could explain what happened to him, and then what? He snorted. Did he actually think she’d welcome him with open arms after so many years with no word?

  But the sight of her…for one instant, she appeared before him, her hair above her shoulders burnished silver, tiny lines on her face, and then ’twas if the lines blurred, the years fell away, and there was the girl he’d loved above all else standing before him, eyes of moonlight. With her blond hair flowing out behind her as they drove into the desert, her arms encircling his waist as they drove on his motorbike to go camping, this was how he would always see her. Full of life.

  Drake knew every line of her body, could trace her in the dark, find her by scent, and now…she was no longer his. The police officer had made her his own. Drake should be comforted that she was not alone. Never. The jealousy was hot and dark, pulsing through him, and before he could hold the words back, they spilled forth, unkind and cruel. When what he’d wanted above all else was to crush her to him, touch her face, and tell her he’d been half a man all these years and was now whole again.

  When the fates ripped the cursed papers from his hand and fed them to the ocean, ’twas a sign, of that he was certain. Another sign appeared as his phone rang, breaking the silence and sending a gull to the skies, the bird voicing his displeasure as he flew further down the beach and turned a beady eye on Drake.

  He chuckled. “I know how you feel.”

  The ring told him ’twas Caroline. He answered the call to hear her already talking.

  “…Harry tells me he’s sending a second set of papers. Is there a problem?”

  “Hello, Caroline.”

  She huffed. “The invitations have all been sent out. Everything is set. In a little less than two weeks, we’ll be married. I don’t have time for you to get a case of cold feet.”

  “Cold feet?”

  “Drake.” Her voice lowered, the way it did when she wanted something. “I can understand seeing the woman you…cared for at such an impressionable age would have an impact. But it was one summer. Three months. We’ve known each other since I was a girl. What you had with her was fantasy, teenage hormones. We have history.”

  “I’m sorry, Caroline. We are good business partners but not life partners. Even if I so desired, I’m not free to marry you.”

  He heard something break, shattering on the floor. It sounded expensive, but he knew better than to chuckle.

  “Dammit, Drake. I’ve worked too hard on us and building an empire. Divorce your teenage crush and get your ass back here.” She disconnected before he could say anything else.

  She was a DiSilvio, that was for certain. Her father had a tendency to break things when he was in a black mood. He’d once totaled a hundred-thousand-dollar car without a single look back at the beautiful machine.

  Drake needed his old captain. He would have counseled him what to do. Duty or love?

  Did his love for Mildred and their marriage take precedence over his life debt and oath to DiSilvio? He needed a priest.

  The sun on her face woke Mildred. Her nose was cold. Salt coated her face; she tasted it on her lips. Stretching, she yawned, working out the kinks as a pile of blankets fell away. There was a clunk as an empty bottle rolled across the deck. Karen must have come down at some point and put the quilts over Mildred so she didn’t freeze. The last time Mildred had polished off two bottles of wine…they’d been together, hopelessly lost on a road trip. She shook her head and winced at the pain.

  After a long, hot shower, she felt marginally better but not back to her usual self. Then again, would she ever feel normal again, or had he ruined her forever? She pulled on a pair of worn jeans and a blue sweater that reminded her of his eyes. The ticking of the clock in the living room filled the space with sound, making her wish for a mute button.

  “I made coffee and there’s ibuprofen on the counter.” Karen looked sad this morning.

  “I’m sorry about yesterday with all the male drama.” Mildred squinted at Karen. “Are you feeling okay?” Grateful for the pain relief, Mildred swallowed two of the pills with a glass of water.

  Karen sipped a polka dot mug of green tea. “I’d hoped as I got older, the whole dating and love thing would get easier. But…” She bit her lip. “I don’t mean to pry, but you looked absolutely destroyed when he showed up. Did you love him a lot?”

  “More than life itself.” Mildred pulled her legs up under her and sat on the sofa, looking out at the water, restless. “But it was a long time ago, and it seems he’s found someone else.”

  “What?” The outrage on Karen’s face eased Mildred’s heart the tiniest bit.

  “He wants to marry her, and s
ince we’re still technically married, he needs a divorce from me first.” Unable to stand the quiet, Mildred turned on the radio as a man sang about what-ifs.

  Karen munched a cracker, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, the color coming back to her face. “You have to tell me everything.”

  “No, I couldn’t…” But at seeing the crestfallen look, Mildred thought perhaps it might help the girl. How, she didn’t know—maybe just to help Karen to not think of her own life for a while. Sometimes that was enough.

  “I’ve never told anyone about Drake. Not even my sisters.” Mildred sipped the coffee, letting it warm her. “The summer before I was supposed to start college, I went to Las Vegas to work and to have fun. I met him out in the desert my first week there. I thought he was homeless or some kind of free spirit.”

  Karen leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “He’s really good-looking and intense.”

  “He was the most handsome man I’d ever laid eyes on. It was like a bolt of lightning hit me right in the heart.”

  Karen’s face fell. “Is that how love feels? I didn’t feel like that with Tom. It was more…well, like I was just carried along. He had such a strong personality. Before I knew it, we were a couple and then he talked me into bed.”

  “Love is different for everyone. But true love, I think it’s the hardest and hurts the most.”

  Mildred refilled their mugs, finding she needed to talk about Drake, the summer they shared, and the hurt it left behind.

  That afternoon, Mildred unloaded the dishwasher and puttered around while Karen napped. The wind had died down, so she went for a walk on the beach, breathing in the crisp air. Fall and winter were her favorite times of the year. As the years passed and piled up, she thought more about the past and things she might have done differently, paths not taken, lives not lived. All the what-ifs.

  She hated how she and Pittypat fought on her sister’s wedding day. Thomas was going to teach men to fight with swords to make a living. And Mildred had found a book about his history, given it to him to hurt them because she wouldn’t believe he was who he said. Because if she did, then it meant she’d been wrong about Drake. It was a terrible row between them. Mildred said she couldn’t support the marriage. It had caused years of discord.

  She remembered finding Pittypat that morning, telling her about Alice and her husband dying in the sailing accident, the girls coming to live with her sister. And the black mark, the sideways heart in the center of her sister’s palm. How she cried and told her about Thomas, and what had Mildred done? Teased her. Because seeing Penelope’s pain brought back her own.

  When she watched helplessly as her sister was taken by the waves, for a moment Mildred knew Pittypat wanted to die, but she surfaced, spluttering, and Mildred knew the responsibility of caring for their nieces would force her to go on. Too bad Mildred couldn’t let them into her heart. She didn’t have an anchor, and now she was old and cranky. Unsure what to do in the current situation. It was so hard to tell Drake she’d never stopped loving him. What if he laughed? Told her he never loved her?

  After Thomas left, Pittypat said Mildred was never to utter his name again, and she’d kept her word until the night Melinda came running to Mildred’s house, red hair flying in the wind. Her sister hadn’t come home, and the girls were scared.

  Mildred found her on the beach, catatonic. Hours later, Pittypat came to, and just like that, they made up. Mildred had helped financially over the years with the girls, always behind the scenes, not wanting them to know, not wanting the attention.

  Why hadn’t Mildred told her sister about Drake? Would it have changed her if she had?

  Mildred went upstairs, opened the jewelry box, and sorted through the pieces until, in the back, she found the faded black velvet box. The yellow diamond sparkled. Drake had sold his sword to buy it. He’d purchased it from the biggest pawnshop in town, said it might have not brought luck to the previous owner, but he knew it was meant for her and would bring them luck. How wrong he’d been. She ran a finger over the wide band carved with the moon and stars. The crazy man used to tell her that her odd-colored gray eyes were the color of moonlight and starlight. He had been such a romantic. Mildred slipped the ring on her hand. It still fit. She sighed and slid it off, putting it away back in the box with what was left of her heart.

  TWELVE

  The next day, Mildred fretted all day but never heard a word from Drake. Had he left? She anxiously waited for the postman, relieved when there wasn’t an envelope from a Las Vegas law firm amongst the mail.

  Karen had been looking at lots of pictures to get ideas for the nursery. They’d found out this morning at the doctor’s office that it was a girl. Mildred didn’t know who was more excited, Karen or her. They’d gone shopping for maternity clothes and baby things, discussing plans for the nursery and baby-proofing the house over Italian for lunch. Nothing like pasta on a cold day.

  Thinking about the baby and the coming changes helped keep her mind off Drake. Right. Nothing like lying to yourself.

  The past week, Karen had found her energy again. One day, Mildred found her painting ten different colors on the nursery walls to see how the colors changed in the light. Happy she was doing well, Mildred was inspired and cleaned out her closets and drawers, something she should have done before she moved but hadn’t gotten around to. She and Karen sang along to the music playing throughout the house as they worked.

  Both tired from a busy day, Mildred had ordered enough Chinese food to feed an army. They’d pulled out the black and gold china for the meal.

  “I’ve gained twelve pounds so far, and all I want to do is eat,” Karen said as she ate another fortune cookie. She pointed at Mildred’s plate. “Hey, you didn’t open your fortune cookie.”

  Mildred eyed the innocuous cookie like it was a bomb. “I don’t believe in that woo-woo nonsense.”

  “Come on, you have to open the cookie, read the fortune, and eat the cookie, or it’s bad luck.”

  “For whom? The cookie manufacturer?” But, seeing the earnest look on Karen’s face, Mildred gave in. “Fine. But if it says I’m going to meet a handsome stranger, I’m chucking it outside for the gulls.”

  “Fair enough.” Karen clapped her hands together, pointedly ignoring Mildred’s scowl as she opened the wrapper. And she could have sworn time paused as the wrapper crinkled, the house creaked as the wind blew, and she shivered. Such fanciful notions. Breaking the cookie in half, Mildred took a deep breath, pulling out the slip of paper.

  Only when you go back can you move forward.

  Karen was watching her so intently that Mildred’s suspicions kicked into high alert. “Did you do this?” She held out the fortune.

  “What does it say?” After she read the fortune, Karen jumped up and down. “It’s a sign. You and Drake are going to find a way through everything and end up together. It’s so romantic.”

  Mildred rolled her eyes so hard that she was surprised they didn’t roll out of her head and across the wood floor. “Honestly, that’s the most ridiculous notion.”

  A knock sounded on the door. Karen shrieked and, she had to admit, Mildred thought of Drake. When she opened the door, Mildred clutched the strand of long necklaces she liked to wear. There stood Will and Drake. Though there was an odor. Peering closer at Drake, she sniffed.

  “Goodness. What happened to you? And why do you smell like a barbecue?”

  “There was a fire at the other end of the beach,” Will said. “Miss Melba had a grease fire and it got out of hand. Her place and the house Mr. Gregory was renting are a total loss.”

  “Why did you bring him here?”

  “Mildred.” Karen made a face. It was rude, but he deserved it. “Oh my gosh, are you okay? Is Miss Melba?” Karen held a hand over her baby bump. “Miss Melba has been teaching me to sew. Was she hurt?”

  Will looked tired. “She’s fine, just a little shook up. I took her to stay with her cousin.”

  “Melba will outlive us all.”
Mildred snorted.

  “Who is Miss Melba?” Drake yawned. Part of his left eyebrow was scorched off.

  “You might have seen her around town,” Mildred said. “Miss Melba is ninety, drives a huge baby-blue Buick.”

  Karen stood next to Mildred, grinning. “It’s like a tank. Do you know one time a guy on vacation screeched in front of her in a bright yellow Corvette and stole the last parking spot at the Food Lion? From a little old lady.” The outrage in Karen’s voice made them all grin.

  “Don’t let her sweet smile fool you,” Mildred said. “Melba smashed into that car, said she meant to hit the brake but hit the gas by mistake.” She snorted. “Right. There wasn’t a scratch on the Buick, but that Corvette needed a lot of work.”

  Karen sneezed, likely from the stench of burnt things. “She rides a pink bicycle with a big blue basket on the front around the beach. I heard a rumor that she donates even more money than your family to the local police, so they’ll look the other way as you all speed through town.”

  Will held up a hand. “I know nothing. I see nothing.”

  Karen narrowed her eyes at him. “Sure is a fancy police station for a beach town.” Then she laughed. “I think it’s great. You better not pull over Miss Melba or Mildred or I won’t bring any more of my homemade biscuits to the station.”

  The police chief looked horrified. “My officers tell me Miss Melba and Miss Merriweather are paragons of society,” he said primly.

  “Bet you’d like a couple of Lamborghinis like the Italian police drive…just in case someone was to speed through town.” Drake grinned, and against her will, the corners of Mildred’s mouth turned up.

  Will scratched his head. “I don’t know about a Lamborghini, but maybe a new helicopter or two.”