Eternally Yours

by Jennifer Malin

  The scheme excited him. It was the one way he might be able to compensate for some of his mistakes.

  Tapping his pen on the desk, he contemplated the studio, visualizing its beautiful architecture. Of course, tampering with the original layout of the house was out of the question--so what could they do?

  An idea clicked in his mind. He’d have to confirm a few details--if Lara ever let him in her house again--but he felt almost sure he had the perfect solution.

  As he put his pen to the paper again, Geoff’s poem caught his eye, and he silently thanked his ancestor for his help--coincidental or intentional. The verses had inspired him, and he had a feeling they might influence Lara, too. She had once loved the old boy, and, whether or not she approved of his exploits, she believed she had a connection to his ghost. Mark thought that if she wouldn’t listen to him, she might pay attention to Geoff...but he couldn’t depend on it. Right now, more than ever, he had to make his own words count.

  Leaning over the paper, he started writing the most important letter of his life.

  Chapter 18

  Lara was at the stove cooking an omelet when she heard a knock at her back door. Ron, she thought, here for the second day in a row. This time he’d playfully tapped out the “shave and a haircut” beat--kind of a lighthearted thing for him to do. He must have been in a good mood. She guessed he’d come back to tell her more about his manufacturing deal.

  Frowning, she set down her flipper and turned off the burner. She may have been glad to hear about his good fortune the day before, but if he planned to make a habit of dropping by, she’d have to put an end to it now.

  Instead of answering the door right away, she peeked out of a window to its side.

  Di stood on the back step. She spotted Lara and waved, a grin spreading across her face.

  The tension drained from Lara’s body. Nothing could have been a more welcome sight. She threw open the dead bolt and stepped outside to greet her friend with a hug. “God, it’s good to see you. You don’t know how much I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too.” Di looked tanned and relaxed after her week at the beach. She thrust a box of saltwater taffy toward Lara. “I like my sister-in-law well enough, but she and I don’t have a lot in common. We ran out of things to talk about days ago.”

  “Thank you,” Lara said as she took the candy. Glancing down at the box, she hoped it contained a lot of chocolate ones. She could use the comfort of chocolate. “I didn’t think you’d be home till tonight, and I never expected to hear from you today.”

  “The forecast sounded shaky, so we left a day early. I don’t know if it made the news here, but they were expecting a big storm along the coast. We didn’t want to get caught in a lot of rain on the drive home.”

  Lara shook her head. “No, I hadn’t heard, but I’m glad you took precautions. I hope you had better luck with the weather the rest of the week.”

  “Oh, we did.” Di dropped her keys into her purse. “Most of the time it was beautiful, barely a cloud in sight.”

  “Good. Can you come in for a minute now, or do you have too much to do?”

  “Of course I can come in.”

  Lara stepped back and held the door open for her.

  As Di entered the kitchen, she sniffed at the air. “What smells so good?”

  “I was just making breakfast.” She went to the stove to turn the eggs over. “Do you want some of this omelet? As usual, I’ve made enough to feed an army.”

  “No, thanks, I’ve already eaten--though I wouldn’t say no to a cup of coffee.” Her friend set her purse down on one corner of the counter. “Go ahead and fix your omelet. I can get the coffee myself.”

  “So, tell me all about your vacation,” Lara urged her, glad to have something besides Mark to focus on.

  While Lara finished cooking and dished out her food, Di described the highlights of her time in Cape Hatteras. The house they’d rented sounded great, but there hadn’t been much else besides beach in the area. If Lara had come along, the isolated location definitely would have left her stranded with the two couples.

  On the other hand, considering her devastation at home, she probably would have been better off.

  “Enough about my boring trip,” Di said as they carried the hot drinks and foods into the dining room. “I’m dying to know what’s been going on here with you and Mark.”

  “Not what you would hope, unfortunately.” Lara looked away from her. Between bites of food, she summarized the past week’s events. She tried not to show how depressed her falling out with Mark had made her, but when she got to the end of the story she couldn’t keep her voice from cracking.

  “How awful.” Di reached across the table to give Lara’s hand a squeeze. “I can’t believe Mark Vereker would act like such a jerk, especially when you two were getting along so wonderfully. I always thought he was such a nice guy. Did he offer some sort of explanation for talking to the zoning board? Maybe he didn’t mean to screw things up for you.”

  Lara leaned back in her chair, swirling the last bit of coffee in her mug. “Well, that’s what he claims--that it was all a mistake--but I don’t believe him for a second.”

  “Why not?”

  She pursed her lips. “You know what a hard time he gave me about the wall when we first met. When a guy feels that strongly about an issue, he doesn’t just turn around and forget about it. I knew something was funny when he suddenly started paying me so much attention. Now I wish I’d listened to my instincts about him.”

  Her friend frowned. “I hope you’re not suggesting he’s been faking an interest in you.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.” Her anger growing, she gulped down the rest of her coffee. “All along he’s been running hot and cold with me, and his supposed ex-girlfriend is always hanging around him. I don’t think they ever got over each other. Maybe they never really even broke up. Who knows? That might have been a story formulated for my benefit--just so he could get in tight with me and try to keep me from knocking down the studio wall.”

  Di wrinkled her nose. “I can understand why you’re upset, but aren’t you getting a little carried away? I went to school with him for years, and I never got the impression he was a devious person. If he is a bit obsessive about preserving houses, wouldn’t intervening with the zoning board have been enough to foil your plans? Why would he need to feign interest in you?”

  “I don’t know. To be honest with you, nothing is clear to me anymore.” With her wounds still open, Lara wasn’t in the mood to go easy on Mark. “Maybe he wasn’t sure whether the board would listen to him and didn’t want to leave anything up to chance.”

  Her friend set her elbows on the table and leaned her chin on her palms, her expression pensive. “But if he were only pretending to like you all of this time, wouldn’t he keep up a constant act instead of having the mood swings? To me, his volatility makes it seem more likely his feelings for you are genuine.”

  “Then how do you explain why he’s still in touch with Karen so frequently?”

  She shrugged. “She might be pursuing him. You said she acted jealous the first time you ran into her at his apartment. Have you tried coming out and asking him directly what’s going on with them?”

  “I did earlier in the week, and he claimed he doesn’t want anything more to do with her, but yesterday he admitted she was his connection with the zoning board--the one he told about the studio.” Glancing over at his book, still on the table, she frowned. “He tried to blame the whole thing on her, saying she’s the one who went to the officials--as if that makes a difference.”

  Di sat up straight and gave her a look of disbelief. “Of course it makes a difference! Why didn’t you tell me that before? I’ll bet I know exactly what happened. Karen is jealous of your relationship with Mark and tried to ruin your plans out of resentment. He probably had no idea she was going to the board about them.”

  Lara shook her head. “I’m sure he knew. He told m
e about it, remember? You’re just trying to find excuses for him, because you want so much for me to have someone. Your intentions may be good, but you’re going to have to realize that Mark simply isn’t the one for me.”

  Di started to say something but stopped herself. After a moment, she sighed. “Won’t you even give him the benefit of the doubt?”

  “Why should I?” Lara stood up, holding her empty mug. “I’ve had enough of his wavering back and forth. Every time I start thinking I’m interested, he does something to make me doubt I know him at all. Well, this time I’m getting off the roller coaster.”

  Before Di had a chance to come up with another argument, Lara picked up her friend’s mug, too. Stepping toward the kitchen, she threw over her shoulder, “Do you want any more coffee?”

  “No, thanks,” was the quiet answer.

  As she crossed the hall, a loud boom startled her--the front door knocker slamming down on the wooden panels. She juggled the mugs but managed not to drop them.

  Catching her breath, she wondered who could be here now. Was it possible Mark would come by again? Her heartbeat quickened.

  She backtracked into the dining room and whispered, “I don’t want to get that, in case it’s him.”

  Di rolled her eyes and got up out of her chair, marching toward the hallway.

  “What are you doing? He might see you.”

  “He can see our cars in the driveway, anyway, so he knows we’re here.” She turned into the hall toward the front of the house and hissed, “I’m going to answer the door. If it’s him, I’ll tell him you’re in the shower and ask if I can take a message.”

  Lara wanted to drag her back into the room, but Di was already halfway up the hall. Desperate to avoid Mark, she ducked around the corner and hid from view.

  She heard the hinges of the front door creak and her friend say something she couldn’t make out. A man’s voice answered...yes, it sounded like Mark. Despite herself, she held her breath. If he kept coming over to try to see her like this, was it possible he really did care?

  Not enough to have been honest with me, she remembered.

  Still, she couldn’t resist trying to hear the discussion going on at the front of the house. Unfortunately, she couldn’t quite grasp any of the words.

  After what seemed like ages, the door creaked again and shut. She stood still, afraid Di might have let him in.

  Luckily, she didn’t hear them talking anymore.

  At last her friend walked back into the dining room, alone. She gave Lara a somber look. “I think you’re crazy for not seeing him. He’s a perfectly nice guy. I don’t believe he cares more about this house than you. Why would he keep coming back here if he didn’t have feelings for you?”

  A spark of something frighteningly like hope weakened Lara. She bit her lip. “What did he say?”

  “That he really needs to see you. He wanted me to try to get through to you. He asked that if I couldn’t talk you into meeting with him, to at least try to get you to read this.” She held out an envelope.

  Lara stared at the piece of paper. The thought popped into her mind that it might be another one of Geoffrey Vereker’s letters, but lately Mark had acted like he wanted to avoid dealing with the ghost. Why would he change his mind now? “What is it?”

  “I think it’s a letter but, of course, I haven’t looked inside. Why don’t you open it and see?”

  Unsure whether or not she would look at the contents, she took the envelope and read the front. Written across the face, in Mark’s handwriting, was her name.

  She sighed, relieved that it wasn’t a letter of Geoffrey’s. In her state of mind, she didn’t feel prepared to deal with the ghost. But was she ready to read what Mark had to say?

  “Well, aren’t you going to look at it?” Di asked.

  If she had known what was good for her, she probably wouldn’t have, but she found she didn’t quite have the will.

  Tearing open the seal, she pulled out several sheets of paper and read the top page to herself:

  Dear Lara,

  I know you don’t want to hear excuses from me, and I understand why, so I’ll spare you. The bottom line is that the debacle with the zoning board was my fault. There’s no way of getting around it.

  Given that, I’ve been pondering how I can make amends. The only way is to see that you get the studio you want and deserve. I’ve raked my mind, and I think I’ve come up with a solution that may satisfy everyone, but I’ll need to confirm a few details about your house. Please consider letting me stop by soon...for this reason and because I need to see you.

  If you won’t meet with me, I have no right to complain. I’ll outline my ideas and send them to you anyway--but please try to find it in your heart to give me this chance to prove that I’m not all bad.

  Before closing, I also wanted to tell you that I’ve found another poem of Geoff’s, one I don’t believe was ever published. Thanks to the insight you’ve given me into him, I’m finally able to appreciate him for what he was. The poem particularly inspired me, and I’m enclosing it in hope that the verses will mean something to you, too. Reading them gave me the courage to try contacting you again.

  Please keep the poem. I realize that Geoff and I both rate low with you these days, but try to remember how much you used to love his work. Whether or not you can forgive me, I hope that someday you’ll be able to overlook his faults and love his poetry the way you used to.

  I have so much more to say to you--too much to try to put into writing. I really need to talk to you. Please call me as soon as possible.

  Nothing in the world would mean more to me.

  Love,

  Mark

  The word “love” stood out like a beacon to Lara--or maybe a flash of warning. Did he love her?

  Before their falling out, she’d known that her feelings for him had been growing warmer and more powerful, but even then she’d avoided thinking about love. Now she felt confused. Too much had happened in the last week. She didn’t know what to think.

  Numb, she folded up both sheets of paper and put them back in the envelope. She wasn’t interested in reading Geoffrey’s poetry.

  “What does he say?” Di asked her.

  Covering her mouth with one hand, she held out the letter. “Here, read it for yourself, if you want.”

  Her friend took the envelope and sat down at the table. While she pulled out the sheets and flattened them, Lara turned to look out a window, not even seeing the scene outside.

  He hadn’t acted like a man in love, she reminded herself. If his “slip” to Karen about her studio was unintentional, why hadn’t he warned her when it happened, so she could have talked to the zoning board? She could have easily explained that the studio was strictly for personal use.

  There could only be one answer: He’d wanted the board to deny her permit.

  “You’ve got to see him after this,” Di said from behind her, following up the statement with the soft swish of a page turning over. “Does the poem by his great-great-grandfather say anything relevant, or should I skip it?”

  “I don’t know,” Lara murmured. “I didn’t look at it.”

  Her friend lapsed back into silence, apparently reading on. A few moments passed, then she said quietly, “Holy cow. This is too weird.”

  Caught up in her own thoughts, Lara didn’t pay attention to her.

  “Mark must have written it,” Di said after another minute. “Lara, you’ve got to see this.”

  She doubted she could possibly find it interesting, but she turned around. “What?”

  “This poem--it’s got to be a joke...or something. It’s about two lovers, and they sound an awful lot like you and Mark.” Di met her gaze, her forehead crinkling. “I guess it’s possible that Geoffrey Vereker could have written about a couple with a similar story a hundred years ago, but it seems like a hell of a coincidence.”

  A hard lump jelled inside of Lara’s stomach. Lately she’d had too many weird experiences to w
rite much off as coincidence, especially where Geoffrey was concerned.

  Her friend glanced back down at the poem. “This paper doesn’t even look old. Mark must have faked this old-fashioned handwriting, trying to get your attention. That’s pretty creepy of him! I guess you were right about him being devious. I never would have imagined he’d do something like this.”

  Despite Lara’s doubts about Mark, she believed that the ghost was the more devious of the two Verekers. Though the poem Geoffrey had shown her the day before had softened her anger toward him, she still didn’t want much to do with him. Unfortunately, she had a feeling that the ghost wasn’t going to let her go that easily.

  Di got up and held the sheet out in front of her. “Look--no yellowing, no musty smell. This stationery could have come out of the box yesterday.”

  Lara stared down at the poet’s familiar handwriting, knowing that Mark hadn’t forged the elaborate curlicues. What would be the point? She frowned. “Maybe it did...but Mark wasn’t the one who wrote it.”

  “What do you mean--” Di cut herself off, her eyes opening wide. The page slipped through her fingers and drifted to the floor. “Oh. You think the ghost wrote it.”

  Seeing her poor friend’s look of horror, Lara suddenly felt resentful about being dragged into this situation. She glared down at the poem by their feet. “Why did Mark have to send that to me? Geoffrey’s his ancestor, not mine. Why do I have to be involved with his problems?”

  Di shuddered and hugged herself, eyeing the paper as if it were a snake. “W--well, you’ve been involved from the start. Your house is where the ghost showed up. To be completely fair, Mark really didn’t have any more choice in the matter than you.”

  “He’s the one who sent me this.” Lara bent to the floor and picked up the poem, folding it without reading the words. Grabbing Mark’s letter from the table, she stuffed both sheets back into the envelope and threw the packet on top of Mark’s book. “Well, if my mind wasn’t made up before, it is now. I want nothing more to do with either of the Verekers.”