by Naomi Niles
I shook my head at him and led him through the bar to the backrooms where my things were. I led him to the bathroom and he leaned against the counter while I got out the first aid kit.
“So … it was nice seeing Paul again after all these years,” Dylan said sarcastically.
“Yeah I’ll bet,” I replied giving him a glare.
“What?” Dylan asked. “You didn’t expect me to just stand there while he insulted you, right?”
I sighed. “You didn’t have to defend me like that,” I said.
“Of course I did,” Dylan said in a baffled voice. “He has no right to talk to your like that; he has no right to talk about you like that.”
I shrugged. “At this point I’m used to it.”
“But you shouldn’t have to be,” Dylan insisted.
“What can I do, Dylan?” I asked. “It’s not like I can control him.”
Dylan shook his head in frustration. “Maybe I should have a talk with him.”
I put my hands on his chest. “I know the kind of talk you mean,” I said with a small smile. “And while I appreciate the gesture, I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Well if you change your mind …”
“I’ll let you know,” I replied.
“Do you still want to do something tonight?” Dylan asked.
I sighed. “How about we try again tomorrow?” I suggested.
“Anything you want,” Dylan said.
“We could meet in the afternoon,” I suggested. “And then maybe we could have dinner with your mother.”
Dylan smiled. “She’ll love that,” he nodded.
“Great.” After a moment, I looked up at him. His eyes were so beautiful; they made me feel calm without reason. “Thank you,” I said after a moment.
“For what?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
“For defending me tonight,” I replied.
Dylan’s smile was soft and tender, but there was an edge of sadness to it as well. He reached up and grazed his fingers across my cheek. I thought he was going to wave away my gratitude as though it was his duty. I thought he would laugh and say it was his pleasure. Instead, he stared at my face with his fingers caressing my cheek.
“I’m sorry,” was all he said.
Chapter Seventeen
Dylan
Mom had her hand wrapped around my arm as we made our way up the isle to one of the pews at the front of the church. Tyler was walking just behind us. People smiled and nodded at us as we passed and I knew that my father’s death was still fresh in their minds.
I felt my mother return their smiles with glassy eyes as though she were seeing them all without really seeing them. I sat down with mom and Tyler on either side of me and glanced around searchingly.
“She’s not here,” mom said unexpectedly.
“What?” I asked playing dumb. “Who?”
“You know who,” Tyler said impatiently. “Elizabeth.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
“She hasn’t been to church in years,” mom replied before Tyler could.
“Why?” I asked curiously, knowing how religiously Elizabeth had always attended Sunday mass. She had always been the more spiritual one of the pair of us and in fact it had been her faith that had held mine in place.
My mother went to church every Sunday but my father had never been a particularly religious man. Sometimes he went and sometimes he didn’t, mom never forced any of us to go with her and if it hadn’t been for Lizzie, I would never have thought to make church a weekly ritual. Once I realized how important it was to her, I went along to try and understand what she got out of it.
We would have long talks about faith, about spirituality and about the power of humanity and slowly I started to see why Lizzie might draw strength from that kind of belief. It was nice to have something to trust in even if you couldn’t see it or hold it or touch it. That kind of belief could give you all the tools you needed to survive life. Anytime I had a question I would go to Lizzie and she would do her best to answer it for me.
There were times when she was stumped and she wasn’t sure. Rather than ignore my question or guess at the answer, she would go to the pastor and talk to him. She would get me an answer, even if I couldn’t really understand it and I would feel somehow better. I felt more spiritual just by being near Lizzie, it was as though her faith burned so brightly that its light fell on me and blessed me in some way. That was how it felt to be loved by her. It felt as though I was blessed.
“Hmm?” Tyler asked
“Why hasn’t Lizzie been to church in years?” I repeated the question.
“You’d have to ask her,” Tyler replied.
Through the whole sermon, I sat there wondering what had happened, why Lizzie had stopped coming for mass. I noticed that Maddie was there, sitting a few pews down from us and I made a mental note to talk to her after the congregation had dispersed. I barely concentrated on what the pastor was saying; my head kept flitting to Elizabeth, then to my upcoming deployment and then back to Elizabeth. I was on an unending loop in my head that I couldn’t seem to escape.
Finally the pastor concluded his sermon and we rose to our feet and made out way outside. I stood with mom and Tyler until I saw Maddie emerge from the church’s entrance.
“Excuse me,” I said to mom and Tyler as I moved off in her direction. “Maddie!” I called, waving to catch her attention.
“Dylan,” she greeted with a smile. “Hi, how are you?”
“Good,” I nodded distractedly. “I didn’t see Lizzie here today?”
“Ah, no, you wouldn’t have,” Maddie replied. “She doesn’t really come to church anymore.”
“Is there a reason?”
Maddie sighed. “She had a hard marriage, Dylan,” she explained. “I think it shook her faith a little. She was still married to Paul when she stopped coming to church, and after the divorce … I guess she was too far gone to come back from that.”
“She used to play piano on Sundays,” I said looking up at the church.
“She did,” Maddie said. “That was a long time ago. The first time she played in years was at your father’s funeral.”
“That is—”
“Sad,” Maddie finished for me. “I know and I’ve tried to get her to join me for mass, at least once in a while, but she hasn’t been interested.”
“She was the one who inspired me to go to church in the first place,” I said mostly to myself. “She was my inspiration. She was the reason I found my faith.”
“Oh,” Maddie said and I noticed her expression change a fraction.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” Maddie said shaking her head. “Just an errant thought.”
“Care to share it with me?”
“Not really.”
“Maddie …”
She sighed. “It’s just … I was thinking that it’s a little ironic.”
“What is?”
“The fact that Lizzie was the one that inspired your faith,” Maddie explained. “She stopped going to church a few years ago, but I think she started losing her faith long before then, probably around the time the two of you went your separate ways.”
I looked down at Maddie and I knew she wasn’t trying to be accusatory. I knew she wasn’t trying to blame me but I felt the accusation anyhow. I felt the blame.
“Dylan?” Maddie said gently. “Maybe you can try and convince her to come to church again?”
I shook off my thoughts and focused on Maddie. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t know how to go about it in the first place.”
“Listen you don’t have to make her do anything,” Maddie said. “Maybe all you really need to do is remind her of who she used to be. She needs to remember the girl she was: adventurous, brave, imaginative, filled with all this endless belief. Just remind her of that.”
“What if she doesn’t listen?” I asked, looking for some guidance.
“Then at least you tried.”
“Well,” Maddie interrupted before I could finish. “It’s time to return the favor.”
I nodded once and gave Maddie a small smile. “Thanks,” I said. “I should get going now.”
We said goodbye and I re-joined mom and Tyler before we made our way back home. I had just changed into fresh clothes when I saw Lizzie coming up the driveway. She was wearing dark jeans and a white, sleeveless blouse. Her red hair cascaded down her shoulders and made her look like some fairy-tale princess.
It didn’t matter what she wore. She always looked beautiful. I grabbed the fishing rods and rushed downstairs to meet her. I had the door open before she could even ring the doorbell. She looked at me in surprise as the door swung open. Her smile made her eyes come to life with brightness.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi,” she replied. “Did you see me coming?”
“I did,” I nodded.
She raised her eyebrows. “And apparently we’re going fishing?”
I smiled. “Just like old times,” I said as I stepped outside and closed the door behind me.
“Ah, does that mean we’re coming home empty handed?” she asked teasingly.
I shot her a look. “Ok, maybe not exactly like old times.”
“Does that mean you actually plan on catching a fish?”
“I plan on catching more than just one fish,” I declared confidently.
“Wow,” Lizzie smiled. “You’re ambitious today.”
“If you’re going to be my cheerleader today, you’ll have to drop the sarcasm.”
Lizzie laughed. “You’re right,” she nodded. “Dropping the sarcasm now.”
“Excellent,” I said. “It’s up to us to catch dinner tonight.”
“I bet I can catch more fish than you,” Lizzie said with a wink.
It was amazing to see her like that, joking, teasing, and laughing at every little thing. She reminded me of the girl that I had fallen in love with. The problem was that I knew it was a thin mirage. She was not that girl anymore. Life had gotten in the way and changed her, and if I were being honest, I had to admit that I had probably changed her too.
“What?” Lizzie asked suddenly.
“What?”
“You’re staring,” she said.
“Oh … can you blame me?” I asked.
She smiled and I detected a hint of color rise to her cheeks. “Don’t bother trying to distract me with your flattery,” she said laughing off the moment. “It won’t work.”
“All the same, I’ll keep trying,” I said with a wink.
I untied the boat and pushed it out onto the lake, then I helped Lizzie into it and we paddled out into the very center, enjoying the combination of the warm sun on our faces and the cool breeze at our backs.
“I forgot how nice this is,” Lizzie said with her eyes closed and her face turned up towards the sun.
All I could do was stare at her. If I could have come up with an image of Venus or Aphrodite, they would be molded in Lizzie’s image. I knew it wasn’t just my bias, she was a beautiful woman and it was the kind of beauty that was pure and unaffected. She wasn’t wearing any makeup. Her face was clean and completely her own.
Instantly my mind fell back to all the women in the clubs I frequented with the guys on weekends. They were slathered in makeup, tight dresses, and exotic perfumes. They were so dolled up that I probably had no idea what they really looked like under their faces. It was only now that I was confronted with Lizzie that I realized the difference.
Her blue eyes were on me again and I knew she had caught me staring. I smiled. “Sorry,” I said. “It’s hard to stop.”
She looked away from me in embarrassment. “I can’t imagine you haven’t met much more beautiful women in all the exotic lands you’ve visited.”
“I’ve met plenty,” I replied honestly. “But none of them were you.”
She smiled in the direction of the house but she didn’t say a word. It was times like that when I wished I knew what she was thinking.
“You stopped going to church,” I said bluntly.
She didn’t reply at first, when she looked back at me I saw the pain in her eyes. I saw how ravaged she looked, as though something had been stolen from her. “I just couldn’t anymore,” she said. “I tried but … I couldn’t.”
“Why?” I asked. “Is it because you stopped believing in God?”
She shook her head. “No,” she said. “I don’t think I could stop believing in God.”
“Then what happened?”
“I stopped trusting in God,” Lizzie said softly.
“Lizzie …”
“He wasn’t there for me, Dylan,” she said emphatically. “When I needed him the most, he turned his back on me and I was left here in this town alone. I thought he would be there, I thought he would protect me. He didn’t.”
I sat there and stared at her. I could see the hurt on her face, I could see the anger there when she spoke about God, but I knew it was misplaced. She thought she meant God, she probably believed she did but I knew the truth because I knew her. She wasn’t talking about God at all.
She was talking about me.
Chapter Eighteen
Elizabeth
We had a bucket that was full to the middle with beautiful silver-scaled fish. I had caught eight and Dylan had managed to catch five. We laughed and teased each other the whole way through and by the time we looked at our watches, neither one of us could believe we’d been out on the lake for three whole hours.
“I think I won,” I said, wagging my eyebrows at Dylan.
“I thought I’d let you win this one,” he replied. “You know, to give you a little encouragement so you won’t turn me down the next time I ask you to fish with me.”
“Please,” I retorted, rolling my eyes at him. “We both know I’m the better fisherman.”
He pretended to think it over and then he laughed in defeat. “Oh all right; you win fair and square.”
“What’s my prize?” I asked.
“How about a kiss?”
“From Tom Hiddleston?” I joked. “Cause that would be worth my while.”
He shot me a dirty look. “I was thinking of Dylan Thomas actually.”
“Hmm … not as cute but I’ll take it,” I winked.
“All right, how about this?” Dylan suggested. “I’ll give you the kiss and … you don’t have to help me gut and clean the fish?”
“Now that is a prize,” I said gratefully. “I am willing to help you eat the fish though.”
We rowed back to land and I helped Dylan tie the boat up once he’d dragged it back onto land. We set up a little space by the river to gut and clean the fish. Dylan went about the duty very seriously and I watched him in amusement as he set out all his little tools. It reminded me of all the times he had set a project for himself and then attacked it with childlike zeal.
He was precise and methodical with the gutting and cleaning and I couldn’t help but watch him. Once he was done with the first fish he raised his eyes and caught me staring. “Would you mind throwing out the entrails for me?” Dylan asked with a mischievous grin as he practically shoved the entrails in my face.
I screamed and jumped back as he laughed.
“You’re such an ass,” I said shaking my head.
“Does that mean you’re not going to help me gut the rest?”
“That’s exactly what it means.”
“I think you’d be less squeamish if you just touched them and realized there was nothing to be squeamish about,” Dylan said reasonably as he started moving towards me.
I looked at him threateningly. “Don’t you dare come any closer with that,” I said harshly as I started to back away from him slowly.
“Come on now,” he said without backing down. “Don’t be scared.”
“I’m not scared,” I said, refusing to ris
e to the bait. “I just have no desire to touch fish entrails.”
“How else are we going to get them cleaned?”
“There was no ‘we’ in this particular job,” I reminded him. “You said you’d handle it on your own.”
That mischievous glint came back as Dylan’s smile grew wider. “But then I figured this could be a learning experience for you.”
He kept advancing and I kept backing away from him, but I couldn’t help laughing at the same time. It had been so long since I’d felt like this that I’d forgotten how much the last few years had changed me. For the first time in forever, I felt like myself. I felt like the bright-eyed, idealistic, imaginative seventeen-year-old girl I used to be. And when Dylan was close to me it was hard to remember the expanse of time that had separated us.
“I don’t want to learn,” I said firmly.
“You sure?”
“Completely,” I said, but he didn’t stop his advance. “Dylan Robb Daniel Thomas!” I said. “Stop it right now or you’ll pay for this later.”
“Really?” Dylan said with interest as he came to a stop a few feet away from him. I could see the fish juices dripping to the grass at his feet and I tried not to be bothered by it. “How will you make me pay?”
“Clowns,” I said, saying the first thing that jumped into my head.
“Clowns?” Dylan repeated with some trepidation.
“One of these days the door will open and you’ll find yourself face to face with a life-size clown in full garb,” I threatened. “Is that something you would like?”
This time it was Dylan who took a step back. “You wouldn’t.”
“Do you really want to test me?” I asked tilting my head to the side.
“You play a mean game Miller,” Dylan said as he narrowed his eyes at me.
I laughed. “I do what I have to.”
“Fine,” Dylan sighed as he sat back down.
“Is this you backing down?” I asked.
Dylan smiled. “I'm backing down.”
I laughed. “I must say, it’s very attractive.”
Dylan threw back his head and laughed. It opened up his face and made him blue eyes seemed even bluer. I used to get lost in those eyes and I realized suddenly that that was probably still true. He looked so incredibly masculine, sitting there framed by trees and water, gutting fish for our dinner. He certainly wasn’t a boy anymore.