The Truest of Words

by Georgina Guthrie

  For a second, I thought she was going to cry again, but she took a deep shuddering breath and pushed herself back on the bench.

  “So, if you didn’t come here to give me a piece of your mind, why did you come?” she asked.

  “To tell you to go home to your mother and father. Let them look after you and help you get back on your feet. Maybe Oxford isn’t the right place for you, but you should look into some other schools. You don’t want to work in a souvenir shop for the rest of your life.”

  “My parents don’t want me back. I’ve done nothing but disappoint them. They told me as much, you know, when I wouldn’t use your dad’s money. They don’t call me to see how I’m doing, or anything. My brother showed them my Facebook page a few months ago, and he told me that Mum started to cry, but she didn’t ring me.”

  I mulled this over, trying to think of the best way to move forward.

  “I don’t know your parents, Nicola, but I know a thing or two about parental expectations and conflict. I’ve been there.”

  “Because of me, I bet.”

  “I won’t sugar coat it, Nicola. What you did to me was unconscionable. It hurt my whole family. In fact, the ordeal caused some bad feelings between me and my father.”

  “But your parents dropped everything in Canada to come over here to help you.”

  “My parents came over here to help me, yes, but they were also trying to protect the family. My dad is Provost at, well, a large Canadian university. Can you imagine his reaction when he heard what I’d been accused of?”

  “That’s what I mean,” she said, her voice small and sad again. “That’s why I don’t deserve to have a second chance. How could I do something so awful? All you ever did was help me…”

  Her voice quavered, but she bit her lip, staving off further tears.

  “It’s taken me a long time to be able to say this, Nicola, and it’s not easy, but you made a mistake. Yes, you screwed me over something fierce, but it’s over. Pick yourself up and move on. It’s cowardly to use the mistake you made as an excuse to waste every opportunity that comes your way. You can do better.”

  “I can’t believe you’ve come all this way to tell me this…after everything.”

  “I’m struggling to wrap my head around it as well, trust me. But believe it or not, I’m doing this as much for myself as for you.”

  After several long moments, during which she seemed to be puzzling out everything I’d said, she snuck another look at me.

  “I wouldn’t know where to start to pick up the pieces.”

  “Start with your parents. Someone has to act first, and you could wait a long time for your parents to make a move. They think they have a point to prove…They’re trying to teach you something.”

  “But that’s just it,” she argued, sitting up and speaking animatedly all of a sudden. “I screwed up. Okay, I get why they’d be annoyed by that. But then when I said I wanted to send the money back to your dad, they wouldn’t hear of it.”

  “Wait, I knew you didn’t want to use the money, but you actually wanted to give the money back?”

  “When I got home from the admin offices, I felt awful. I wanted to tell them I’d made everything up, but I couldn’t figure out how to tell my parents I’d lied. Before I had a chance to do anything, your dad came over to talk to my parents. Then it looked like I’d changed my story because he’d paid us off. Things went downhill from there.”

  “The wheels fell off for me right around that time too, believe me.”

  “I’m sorry, Daniel. I know it’s too late to apologize, and there’s nothing I can do now—”

  “Hey, it’s never too late to apologize when you screw up. Don’t ever think you shouldn’t say sorry because too much time has passed.” I paused, imagining my father sitting at his desk with a desperate student in the seat across from him. “And for what it’s worth, I don’t think my father would want the money back.”

  “How can you say that? That’s crazy.”

  “I know him. He’d like to see the money used wisely. He’d want you to make something of yourself. That way, this whole mess won’t have happened for nothing. It might be too late for you to start a program in September, but you could look into taking some courses in the second term.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “While you’re deciding what to do, put full privacy controls on your Facebook. There’s no reason for your parents to reach out to you if they can ensure you’re okay with a couple of mouse clicks.”

  “Maybe. I’m not sure. It’s a lot to think about.”

  “I know it is, but promise you’ll give it some thought.”

  She shrugged dismally. “I’ll try.”

  “Good.”

  I sat up with an air of finality. There was little more to say. She caught me before I could stand.

  “Is everything okay with you now?” she asked. “You moved back to Canada, right?”

  “I did. I’ve picked up my PhD and I’m doing great.”

  “You’re here on holiday?”

  “With my girlfriend,” I said, pointing across the square to where Aubrey was sitting cross-legged on the curb. “We’re going home tomorrow.”

  “She’s pretty.”

  “She’s an incredible person.”

  “That’s good. You deserve to be happy.”

  “Yes.” I smiled at my beautiful girl. “I guess I do.”

  Nicola stood and crossed her arms uncomfortably. “I should get back to work.”

  “We should get going too.”

  She rolled a small pebble around on the ground with the scuffed toe of her shoe.

  “Thanks, Daniel. For coming all this way to talk to me. I promise I’ll think about what you said.”

  I nodded, and she turned and walked back toward the shop. By the time she’d disappeared inside, Aubrey had crossed the pavement and was in front of me, holding her hands out. I stood and hugged her.

  “What happened?” she whispered.

  “I might need a few minutes to process everything.”

  “Okay, we don’t have to talk about it right now. Are you glad you came, though?”

  I nodded, my cheek pressed against her silky hair.

  “I am. Thank you for being here. I love you so much, Aubrey.”

  “I love you too.”

  I closed my eyes, holding her close.

  “So, how was your visit to the Tower of London? Everything you imagined?”

  “I don’t even think my imagination could have cooked this up.” She chuckled.

  As we walked toward the exit, I looked around, marveling at the irony of the setting. Nicola spent her days at the Tower of London, originally designed to house liars and thieves. She’d been both. After concocting that ridiculous story, she’d robbed me of my good name, my reputation, and my peace of mind. My name I’d salvaged, my reputation I was winning back, and with a little bit of luck, my peace of mind would soon follow.

  Chapter 33

  An Ever Fixed Mark

  …Love is not love

  Which alters when it alteration finds,

  Or bends with the remover to remove:

  O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,

  That looks on tempests and is never shaken…

  (Sonnet 116)

  STEPPING OFF THE TOWER OF LONDON property, I felt buoyant, hopeful, and relieved all at the same time. How could something as simple as having a conversation with someone change my outlook so profoundly? With our joined hands swinging between us, Aubrey and I strolled along the pier, eventually stopping to watch the cruise boats ferrying tourists up and down the Thames.

  “I guess I should tell you what happened,” I said at last.

  “I understand if you’d rather not.”

  “No, I want to have done with it.”

  I rested against the railing, recounting my conversation with Nicola as briefly as I could without sacrificing the full import of what had passed between us.

  “What do
you think she’ll do now?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure. She said she’d think things over.”

  “You’ve done your part. You have to be satisfied with that.”

  “I am.”

  “So, do you think you’ll be better now? The nightmares—the anxiety—do you think it’ll all stop?”

  “I frigging hope so.”

  “Me too.” She hooked her fingers over my forearm. “It’s funny, looking back now, it’s so obvious…the changes in you. Back in May and June—after the semester had ended, but before you started checking up on Nicola—I saw glimmers of this completely carefree man. I’d love to see more of him.”

  “I’ll do my best to find him.”

  I closed my eyes as she kissed me, tuning out the rest of the world, thinking only of Aubrey—her lips and sweet tongue, her gentle fingers tracing my jaw line, her perfect heart filled with unwavering love that had become one of the most important parts of my world.

  “Hey,” I whispered, easing away from her. “We need to talk about our plans for the rest of the day.” I directed her eyes to the opposite bank of the Thames. “Look down there. That’s the new Globe Playhouse. How would you like to go there tonight?”

  “Can we?”

  I reached into my pocket.

  “I believe we can.” I handed her the two tickets I’d purchased that morning. “We’re going to see The Tempest at seven thirty this evening.”

  She peered down at the tickets, eyes widening with excitement.

  “We are? Daniel, that’s so cool!”

  “I’d already made reservations for dinner in the Ritz dining room, but it occurred to me when I was lying in bed this morning—what better way to capture the spirit of our first date on our six-month anniversary than at another Shakespearean play? Anyway, that’s where I went earlier…to the box office to look into last minute tickets.”

  “Last minute tickets? I don’t believe it…”

  “I know. I could hardly believe my luck either. I was sure they’d have sold out.”

  “I’m not talking about the availability of tickets, sailor.” Her eyebrow shot up. “Two spur of the moment decisions in one day. Frankly, I’m shocked.”

  “Oh, I see. Now you’re making fun of me.”

  “I’m just teasing you a little.”

  “That’s fine,” I conceded. “Tease away. I’ll get you back. Later. When you least expect it.”

  As far as celebrations went, our six-month anniversary was probably the highpoint of them all. Dinner at the Ritz, a ride to the theater in the hotel’s Rolls-Royce, and an evening at the Globe Theatre, revisiting the beautiful words of the man who’d brought Aubrey and me together in the first place. All of this was capped off by a sensual tumble in a king-sized bed with my beautiful girlfriend wearing a sexy black ensemble, complete with garters and stockings—a treat she’d purchased especially for the occasion. I was a lucky bastard.

  We cuddled for a long time afterward, but Aubrey finally untangled herself and crawled out of bed.

  “I’m going to wash up. Hey, by the way,” she added, looking around the edge of the bathroom door. “I almost forgot. There’s a card for you under your pillow.”

  A card? Shit.

  “I’m an ass. I didn’t get you a card.”

  “Daniel, are you clinically insane? After the evening you treated me to, I’m hardly going to think you’re an ass for not getting me a card.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to think I was getting complacent…”

  With a snort, she disappeared into the bathroom. I found the card, peeled open the flap, and tossed the envelope on the nightstand.

  The picture on the front was a simple one—an open pair of hands and a butterfly fluttering away against a sky-blue background. Inside, the card was blank with the exception of Aubrey’s writing.

  Happy Anniversary, Daniel. I love all that I’ve become with you, and all that we’ve become as a couple. Whatever trials we face, we’ll face them together. Thank you for an amazing six months. I love being yours.

  -Aubrey

  xo

  I sat up, my throat aching as I reread her words. Perhaps I was taken aback by the sentiment, or maybe I was overwhelmed by the events of the day, I don’t know, but I was overcome by a rush of feeling. I closed my eyes.

  “Get a fucking grip,” I mumbled, propping the card on the nightstand.

  I fell back onto the pillows, crossing my hands under my head. Aubrey emerged from the bathroom, shedding her wrap before rejoining me under the sheets. I waited for her to get comfortable, then I tipped her chin up and captured her lips with mine.

  “I love the card. Your words were beautiful.”

  She snuggled against me and sighed.

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “I actually got a little choked up.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. You know the picture on the front of the card? Is that meant to represent us?”

  “I guess.”

  “Which one of us is the butterfly?”

  “I think we’ve both had our turn being the butterfly.”

  “What do you think I’ve freed you from?”

  She moved her hand, idly running her fingers through my chest hair.

  “I don’t know. Myself, maybe. You helped me get out of my own way. Made me see that it’s okay to lean on people and accept help.”

  “It always seems as if you’re the one helping me. It’s good to know I’ve been there for you, too.”

  “We’re a good team.”

  “We sure are.”

  I lay there for a long time thinking about everything—all of the tension of those early weeks and the misunderstandings that followed, the misplaced jealously and the turmoil at the university, the family crises and emotional upheaval. Somehow we’d managed to get through it relatively unscathed.

  I knew our ability to weather the storm had been due, in no small part, to Aubrey’s strength and determination. All I wanted now was to be a pillar for her—to support her unfailingly through whatever the future held, just as she’d been there for me since day one.

  “Aubrey? Are you still awake?”

  “Mmm. Sort of.” With her face mashed against my chest, her words were little more than mumbles.

  “Can you roll over for a minute?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Onto your tummy. Roll over.”

  She muttered something about being comfortable, but she flopped onto her stomach all the same, frowning at me over her shoulder. I kissed her shoulder, and then I traced a small circle in the middle of her back, swirling lines emerging from the center and flowing outward.

  “Back Pictionary? Now? Isn’t it a little late, sailor?”

  “Humor me? Please?”

  She hummed indulgently, still frowning. “I have no clue what that is. You’re just tickling me.”

  “You have to concentrate.”

  “Okay, start again,” she said, as I swept my hand across her back.

  Once more, I drew a small circle in the center, lines flowing outward and then one long line emerging from the circle and curving down to her tailbone.

  “Done. What do you think it is?” I asked.

  “I think I know, but I’m not one-hundred-percent sure. Can you give me a hint?”

  “Okay, how about this?”

  I nibbled on her left shoulder blade, then whispered, “She loves me.” Moving over to the other side, I brushed my lips across her right shoulder blade. “She loves me not…”

  As I made my way downward, to feather a nibbling kiss across her side, Aubrey chuckled and propped herself up on her elbows.

  “She loves you,” she said.

  “How can you be sure? I’ve only torn off two petals.”

  “Because I happen to know she loves you more than she’s ever loved anyone.”

  “Did she tell you that?”

  “She didn’t have to. It’s in her eyes when she looks at you and in her heart w
henever she thinks about you.”

  I smiled and gently slid my nose down her spine, kissing my way backward and forward across her lower back. She flinched and laughed.

  “Now what are you doing?”

  “I’m weeding.”

  “I have weeds?”

  “Not anymore.”

  She laughed again and rolled, pulling me up to lie beside her.

  “You’re crazy.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m fulfilling my duties. Remember, my queen, I am your servant. My job is to look after your flower garden.”

  Running her fingers through my hair, she gazed up at me affectionately. “It’s been a long time since we read The Gardener together.”

  “Why don’t we read it when we get home?”

  “That sounds heavenly.”

  “You miss reading together that much?”

  “I actually meant the other part. Home. I’m looking forward to going home. With you.”

  “Me too.”

  I kissed her tenderly and stroked her hair, and then she curled up on my chest again. Very soon, her breathing deepened. Drooling was imminent.

  Wrapped in the familiar comfort of her love, I turned off the bedside lamp and closed my eyes, vaguely aware of the sounds of traffic outside. Hopefully, tonight I would sleep peacefully, and in the morning, we’d emerge onto the busy streets of London for the last time and head off to the airport. Aubrey and I would leave England behind and get on with our lives.

  Together.

  Aubrey

  Chapter 34

  Dreaming

  …It’s past the size of dreaming…

  (Antony and Cleopatra, Act V, Scene ii)

  THE FLIGHT HOME was entirely different from my solo flight to England when I’d been huddled against the window in the darkness, Daniel’s PDF files my sole connection to him. On the return journey, he sat beside me, our fingers loosely entwined as we crossed the Atlantic, the sun skimming the tops of the clouds and streaming through our narrow window. Our bursts of conversation were interspersed with long comfortable silences during which I didn’t once worry about what was going through his mind.