by Nancy Adams
* * * * *
Eli eased his Ford to a stop in front of the house, the worn brakes screeching loudly. The home was small, only a single story, with two front windows and drawn curtains. The door sat directly in the middle of the box-shaped house, brown paint peeling from the wood.
The visit was something he wasn't sure he could do, but it was something that needed to be done. Not a day had gone by since that night that he hadn't thought about doing this. But he’d never had the courage to follow through. He hadn’t known what to say, or how they would respond, or even what the ramifications would be in town. He might be arrested. Everyone thought he was a hero—just wait until they found out he was a suicidal drunk who’d nearly killed three innocent people.
“This is it,” he murmured. And then a sudden rush of doubt washed over him, and he nearly started the car and left again. Nearly went home and pretended he’d never come, that this had never happened, the way he’d done so many times before.
No, he thought. I need to face this. I have to tell the truth. They deserve it. And so do I.
It was windy outside the safety of the truck, and cold. Clouds blocked both the light and heat of the sun.
He slipped his hands into his pockets, and walked up to the house. Completely unsure what to expect next.
He rang the doorbell, but there was no answer. He then tried knocking on the door, the hollow thud of it filling his ears. I guess they're not home. Relief flooded him, and he turned to leave. Well, I tried.
Just as he’d stepped off the front step, turning back towards the road, he heard a deadbolt thud back. The door creaked and eased open. Eli turned. There was a familiar face in the dimly lit doorway, and they stopped for a moment, Eli and the man, staring at each other. Silent.
“You just gonna stand there?” the man asked. He had a deep, cracking voice. “Come inside.” He turned away, retreating into the house, and Eli followed him in.
Though the home's exterior was somewhat run-down, the interior was nothing of the sort. Fresh bright paint covered the walls, and beautiful pictures hung at regular intervals along the hallway.
The floor was wooden, but soon transitioned to carpet as Eli made his way into the living room. There was a large sofa, a recliner, and a coffee table with a range of board games stacked beneath it. But no TV. Not even a radio.
The man motioned for Eli to take a seat on the sofa, and Eli obliged. His host plunked down in the easy chair, and lay back as he reached for a coffee mug placed on a nightstand to his left. The man sported a greying, untamed beard, and a lumberjack’s plaid shirt and jeans. He looked strong. Brazen. Completely unfazed by Eli's presence, and certainly in no rush to make him feel comfortable.
Eli laced his trembling fingers together in his lap. His left foot bounced up and down, shaking the loose glass in the coffee table he’d wedged his knees under.
The man looked at Eli. “So why are you here?”
Eli opened his mouth, closed it. He knew why he’d come, but how to say it? How to explain what really happened? How could he even attempt to ask for forgiveness—both for his actions, and his continuous lies? Outside, a car door slammed, and a commotion of voices approached the door.
“Who’s car is that?” Eli heard a young boy’s voice. Billy.
“My wife and son,” the man said, still looking at Eli. “Would you like to meet them?”
Eli nodded.
As Billy and his mother made their way into the living room, their faces shifted from happiness to confusion as they spotted Eli sitting on their couch.
“Maggie, Billy, this is Eli. He has come to our home unannounced, but I’d like you to treat him with the same respect we’d show anyone else.”
Billy nodded. Maggie's expression didn’t change.
When Billy walked up to Eli, Eli smiled. The boy was probably eight or nine now. Eli offered up a hand for a hi-five, and after a moment a huge grin crept over the boy’s face and he unloaded the mightiest strike he could manage. Though it barely stung, Eli snatched his palm away, screwing his face up in pretended pain. The boy laughed, looking back toward his parents for recognition, then struck Eli's hand again. This time Eli reacted even more strongly, and the boy fell to the floor in hysterics.
The joyful noise cut the tension in the room, and the adults chuckled along with him. Once Billy caught his breath, he wound up for another strike.
“That's enough Billy,” his father said. The boy frowned. “Go into your room and play. Your mother and I need to discuss some grownup things with Mr. Eli here.”
Billy’s head dropped and his shoulders slumped. Obviously feeling saddened and left out.
“Hey Billy!” Eli called. The boy looked back. “We'll play after, okay? Or if that doesn't work, I'll come back another time and we can hang out. Sound good?”
A grin spread over the boy’s face, and he nodded, then ran off towards his room.
“That was kind of you, but you didn’t have to say that,” the women said gently.
She made her way towards the empty chair across from Eli, heavily favoring her right leg. Watching her, guilt sank deep in Eli's stomach.
“No, I love kids. And he seems great.” He wasn't lying, but it was hard to say it and still smile.
She smiled, then turned toward her husband.
“Don't do that Maggie,” the man said. “I don't know anything. He just got here; he hasn’t said anything yet.” His unreadable expression and tone only added to Eli’s uneasiness.
“I'm truly sorry for barging in on you both like this,” Eli broke in, “it's just that... well there really never would have been a good time for what I want to say.” Both of them looked up, and Eli knew he had their full attention, now. He took a deep breath. “This will be difficult for you both to hear, but please wait till I’m finished before you say anything. I am not the man you think I am. I’m not a hero.”
The women opened her mouth, but quickly closed it again. Eli went on. “I’m sorry I never visited you, or even formally introduced myself. It’s not… I’m not stuck up, and I don’t hate people—I’m just a coward. I was terrified that if I faced you, I’d—I'd feel compelled to tell you the truth. It was selfish and stupid of me, and I’m really sorry. See, I’m—they probably told you I was the one that saved you, but I’m also the drunk driver that ran you off the road. I'm the one who nearly killed you and your son.”
Maggie’s hand came up over her mouth, but the man made no movement. Eli couldn’t read him at all.
“I was angry, and grieving, and—and I made an really stupid decision. And then afterward, I let everyone believe a lie, and I’ve regretted it every day since. But last night I finally… told someone the truth, and the relief I felt afterward…. I’d been looking to find that for the past three years. But now I know I have to come clean with everyone. Starting with you. I’m going to the police afterward, and turning myself in, but I wanted you to hear it first, so I could apologize about everything. I don't expect you to forgive me. I don’t deserve it. And honestly, I don't even know if I will be able to forgive myself. I’ve—every day since I’ve—I’ve hated what I did every day of my life, hated myself for doing it, do you understand that? I just pray the three of you will be able to move on, and heal.” Finished, exhausted, Eli dropped his head into his hands.
After a moment he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, and he looked up to find the man standing before him. He helped Eli to his feet, and Eli braced himself for a punch, or—whatever happened next.
The man wrapped his arms around Eli, and squeezed him tightly.
Eli couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. No matter how many times he’d run though his head, it had never turned out like this. He had no idea what was going through the man's head, but the emotion behind the gesture couldn’t be faked. The love Eli was receiving now was genuine. Slowly, he lifted his arms and squeezed back, and the tears started to flow once again, just as they had the night before, with Abby.
The man embraced him for
a long time, and when he pulled away he left his hands on Eli’s shoulders. He pushed his face in close, forcing Eli to give him his complete and utter attention. In a deep, cracking voice, he said, “I forgive you,” and pulled him back into an embrace.
Maggie stood up, and joined them. Placing her hands on both men’s shoulders, she attempted to stem the flow of her tears.
“I've known it was you since the day it happened,” the man said quietly. “Even in that rain, I saw your face before we went over. At first I was furious, seeing you getting all that glory in the papers and TV. Everyone calling you a hero. If you’d come here a month after it happened I probably would have decked you, to be honest. But then I started witnessing the beauty around me, every day, in my family. We are alive today because of you, and nothing else matters. You hear me? Nothing.”
The man pulled back to look at Eli once again. Eli's eyes swelled with tears, too overwhelmed by the man's words to respond.
“You don't tell the police anything, alright?” the man said firmly. “Don't go and throw your life away. As far as I can tell, you've already paid an awfully steep price, and if I had a badge I think I'd let you off with a warning. You don’t need to pay for something that's already been paid in full. You made a mistake, but you fixed it. You lied, but you apologized too, and from what I’ve seen you’ve done a lot of good in the community since. And if you can do that, then how couldn’t we do the same and forgive you? That's not the way I was raised.”
“But—”
“But nothing. You promise me right here. Swear to me that this will stay between us. Swear.”
Eli couldn't believe this man’s generosity. He didn't feel worthy of his grace, nor his sympathy.
“Swear it,” the man urged.
“I swear,” Eli said, and then fell back into the man’s arms.
“Alright then,” His voice softened, and he and his wife comforted him as he sobbed in their arms. “And call me John.”
twelve
ABBY HADN'T HEARD FROM ELI since they went up into the mountains a couple of days ago. His unexplained absence left her angry, but mostly she just wanted to see him.
She couldn't figure out why she felt so strongly about him. Or why she struggled to get him out of her mind. And even though they’d had a ‘moment’, she wasn't sure if she was ready for something serious. She wasn't sure her heart could handle any more pain.
In the meantime, she had been spending some quality time with Melody, though it was tough to enjoy their time together when Abby really wanted to be somewhere else. With someone else. She tried everything to keep her mind off Eli, and sometimes it even worked. It was always short-lived, though. Everything around town reminded her of Eli, now.
The only time she ever could have any peace was when she was surrounded by nature. Her first love. She had been doing a lot of kayak tours around the bay, and the best part was that she got to choose where they went.
Sometimes she chose sand dunes, and other times she chose the breakers. There was Treasure Rock, and the cove, and a secluded little beach where sea lions congregated. The tourists liked listening to them bark, and Abby enjoyed it too. But what she really enjoyed was meeting all the new people she was tasked with leading. Watching them come and go, joy and wonder on their faces. Many of them were couples. Whether dating, newly married, or celebrating some major milestone in their journey together, they all had something in common. They all loved each other. Passionately and with abandon. Abby watched them laughing, touching, enjoying one another’s company. What must it be like to be so free to love? Maybe one day she would look at a man with the same intensity and conviction as those couples. But what she wanted even more than that was to have her affection reciprocated by the man of her dreams.
If only....
* * * * *
Abby arrived home that day exhausted and emotionally spent. She’d given up hoping for things to happen a long time ago, but only today had she finally decided to be content with where she was. With what she had.
It was a short-lived resolution.
Melody was reading on the couch when Abby got home, and as soon as she saw Abby, her face opened in a pleased, secretive look.
“What?” Abby asked, not in the mood for games.
“Oh come now, don't give me that grumpy face. It didn't suit you when you were a little girl and it doesn't suit you now.”
Abby struggled to keep her face cold. She didn't want to back down just because Melody told her to.
Melody heaved a long, exaggerated sigh. “Alright then, I guess you don't want to know.”
Melody gathered her things, stood up, and started to walk away. Just as she was about to reach the stairs, she turned back to Abby, and said teasingly, “It's too bad though... he sounded really excited on the phone....” She turned, and began creeping up the old steps.
Abby's face went pale. He? “Grandma!”
Melody laughed as Abby ran after her, up the stairs into Melody’s bedroom. “Tell me! What happened? Who's he?”
Melody sat at the bed and smiled. Obviously happy with the way the tables had turned, and that she held all the cards. “Oh but honey, I thought you didn't want to know. You should take a nap first and then—”
“Grandma!”
Melody laughed. “Alright, alright, I'll tell you. Sit down here next to me.” Once Abby had sat, Melody continued, “I got an interesting phone call today. It was for you, but obviously you weren't here, so I took a message.”
Abby could barely sit still. The anticipation was killing her.
“It was a nice young man, and he was interested in possibly taking you out on a little excursion tonight.”
A million tiny butterflies burst into flight in Abby's stomach.
“But I know you've been so tired lately... so I told him no.”
“What?”
Melody laughed, wiping a tear from her eye.
Abby sighed. “Grandma, please. The truth.”
“Oh, I'm sorry dear. It's just, after that entrance, you can't blame me for wanting to watch you squirm a little, can you?” She grinned cheekily, but Abby just rolled her eyes.
“I'm sorry, okay? Can you get on with it now? Please?”
“I forgive you. Oh alright, I suppose I've made you sweat enough. The young man asked if you'd like to go out tonight, and I told him you'd love to.”
“Who, Grandma.”
“Sweetheart. Patience has never been your strongest attribute.”
Abby gave her a withering look.
“Eli will be here to pick you up at seven,” Melody finally said.
And Abby froze.
* * * * *
Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.
6:45 PM.
The clock ticked slowly, painfully, taunting Abby from its place on the wall. She couldn't stand the wait. Her nervousness bordered on anxiety. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take.
6:52 PM.
Melody simply watched, delighted, waiting patiently for Eli to show.
“I can't do this,” Abby said at 6:54.
“You'll do fine,” Melody said. There wasn’t the least bit of fear in her voice.
“It's been too long. What if I forget how to act? Or say the wrong things? Or—”
“Abigail, relax.” Abby felt her body immediately go quiet; Abigail sent her right back to her childhood. “Everything is going to be fine.”
“But what should I do, Grandma? What if he hates me when he sees the real me?”
“The real you? Honey, if he didn't already have some idea what you were like, he wouldn't be coming by.”
“But what if—”
“What if what?” The sudden rise in volume set Abby on edge. “What if he doesn't like you? What if he sees your darkest, ugliest secrets and decides he doesn't want any part of them? What if he completely rejects you, and breaks your heart?” Abby had stopped pacing by the end of it. Melody's words cut deep. Then her grandma’s voice softened, and she said, “Then
he isn't worth your time or thoughts, and he certainly isn't the one for you. But please darling, don't for a second think you need to be something you're not, or hide who you truly are. That's not how this is done. Love has no boundaries, and if he loves you then he’ll care less about some silly quirk, or ugly scar.”
Abby’s gaze snapped back toward her grandmother. How did you know?
“Honey, if you don't want to tell me, that's fine. But don't treat me like I'm stupid.”
Abby shook her head. She was on the verge of tears again, and pressed the sides of her fingers beneath her eyes to protect her mascara. “But what if... what if he sees the ugly parts... and decides to leave?”
Melody smiled. “That's the thing about love, sweetheart. It sees the ugly parts. The parts you keep hidden from everyone and everything. The parts you thought only you could ever know, because no one else would ever stay with you. Except love, true love, sees these parts, and still says ‘I’m here to stay’.”
The doorbell rang.
thirteen
THE DOORBELL RANG AGAIN. “You should probably get that,” Melody said, then stood up and left Abby alone. Abby turned toward the door, her last line of defense. Crept toward it, and turned the handle with one shaking hand.
Eli stood there, a dozen red roses in his left hand. Hair perfectly combed, eyes gentle, grinning.
Abby's cheeks flushed, and she struggled not to run away right then and there. Struggled not to turn back into the safety of the home behind her.
Eli offered her the flowers. “These are for you,” he said. His voice was deep, romantic, without a quiver of nervousness.
“Thank you,” she managed. Then, forcing herself to relax, “They’re beautiful.”
“I thought so too. Figured they matched you pretty well.”
Her legs turned to jelly. She managed an awkward laugh, and then he held out his hand to guide her down the dark steps.