An Ever Fixéd Mark

by Jessie Olson

  “What are you reading?” he asked suddenly.

  Lizzie looked up as he rubbed his forehead in a break from the computer screen. He lifted his eyes to her and offered a smile. “Just some chic lit.”

  “Do you mind if I interrupt you for a few minutes?”

  “No,” she shook her head with an impish grin.

  “Come here,” he held out his arm and folded it around her as she approached the desk. He gently eased her onto his knee as he clicked the mouse to bring up a website for a bed and breakfast. “What do you think?”

  “It looks pretty. What is it?”

  “An inn in the Berkshires,” he kissed her cheek lightly. “I was thinking we could go there after we leave your parents next Thursday.’

  “The whole weekend?”

  “Why not?”

  “I promised Paula I would work at the museum on Saturday.”

  “Tell her you changed your mind.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Then we can drive back Saturday morning,” he kissed her again.

  “When will you be back?”

  “Wednesday night.”

  “Jack emailed me yesterday. He and Jen are having people over for drinks that night. Do you want to go?”

  “Why don’t you pick me up from the airport and we can head to Coldbrook?”

  “You don’t want to come back here…”

  “I want to be with you,” he turned her chin towards him and kissed her. She felt the thrill of his hunger as he pulled her closer to him and then lifted her towards the desk. He pushed aside the pile of papers before unfastening the top of her buttons. Lizzie reached for his buckle as the phone rang loudly. Ben paused and rested his forehead against hers momentarily before deciding to take the phone call. She saw the burn in his eyes focus on her half opened shirt and knew that was why he left the room.

  Lizzie got off the desk and picked up the papers off the floor. A lot were clinical reports of some nature. Several O’s, A’s, and B’s. She arranged them in neat piles, hoping she hadn’t put them out of essential order. As she straightened one pile, a thick vellum envelope slipped out. She sat in the chair and pulled the invitation inside. The paper was glossy – imprinted with the image of red blood cells. Inside were the logistical details of location, time, and the cost of the tickets. Lizzie was startled by the number of zeroes in the cost of one ticket.

  Lizzie looked through the RSVP card and return envelope. It seemed as though Ben hadn’t paid any mind to the materials. He was probably going to be there regardless and wasn’t required to RSVP. The last item in the invitation was a slick card with a photograph of a porcelain skinned female body. A strip of red velvet rippled across her torso, barely covering the nipples on her breasts and just reaching the space between her legs. On the back was an additional invitation to a VIP reception where key patrons would be matched with the prime sources. Lizzie couldn’t imagine that all those important contributors would sit around a room hooked up to IVs to get their dose of blood. Judging from the photograph, she didn’t think that was what the party entailed.

  She heard Ben come back into the room and shoved the invitation back into the envelope. “Sorry about that,” he grinned as he set a glass and bottle of wine on the desk.

  Lizzie forced a smile to mask the disappointment she felt come over her. If he was offering her wine, he didn’t want her blood that evening. Was he saving his appetite for the VIP reception? “Are you going to this party?” she held up the invitation.

  “I doubt it,” he laughed. “I have to get all the sources screened and prepared for the first day of feedings on Sunday. I doubt I’ll have any mind for socializing.”

  “But you’ve been working so hard,” Lizzie argued to hide her relief.

  “I will be glad to be done with Chicago,” he uncorked the wine. “I don’t think any clinic was this disorganized.”

  “Why is it?”

  “My friend started this venture with her partner. He was supposed to manage the lab and oversee all screenings and source evaluations. Six months ago, he left her.”

  “Why?”

  “He fell in love with his source, ironically,” Ben shook his head. Lizzie felt her cheeks burn. “She couldn’t turn back. They need this clinic in Chicago. But… it is a different city.”

  “What do you mean?” Lizzie accepted her wine and reluctantly took a sip.

  “There is a great resistance to clinical methodology. Too many organics,” Ben sighed. “This is probably boring you.”

  “No,” Lizzie shook her head, knowing he was going to stall with conversation until she finished her wine anyway. She wanted to ask him if he preferred organic over clinical, but thought that might indicate to whom she had been speaking. Lizzie felt an overwhelming irritation with herself. How could she be upset with him for wanting to feed at the clinic when she was lying to him for nearly a month? How could she accept his invitation to the bed and breakfast when she was so dishonest with him? How could she say she wanted to live with him when she kissed his brother?

  “It will all work out. It has to. I’m not going back there after this next trip.”

  “Ben,” she drank a large sip of wine but lost her nerve under his watchful gaze.

  “I’m not going to work anymore tonight,” he took her hand and pulled her out of the seat.

  “I’m glad,” she leaned to kiss him.

  Ben was gone when she woke the next morning. She knew he would be. She knew he was only gone for a week. She knew when he came back he wasn’t going away again. But this time when she saw his empty pillow and felt the cold at her side, she didn’t completely believe it would be warm again.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Lizzie traced along the margin of the legal pad and then started to color it in. She didn’t think the tangent about Thanksgiving menus was necessary for the minutes of the planning meeting. She was surprised Richard asked her to sit in. It was better than sitting at the desk waiting for the last tedious minutes of Wednesday morning to pass by.

  “Can you think of any other Fultons, Lizzie?” Dr. Chiang brought her attention back to the table.

  “Pardon?”

  “Any other members of the family who will come to the opening reception?” Richard finished the question.

  “There is an aunt or something that lives in Connecticut,” Lizzie was aware of Dr. Chiang’s stare. She was always intimidated by those young eyes. Certainly Dr. Chiang knew far more interesting people than Gerard Fulton. “She is pretty old.”

  “Do you think the museum would give us a mailing list?”

  “It wouldn’t hurt to ask,” Lizzie shrugged, as the thought of Charlotte Fulton suddenly appearing at the opening of the Fulton Cardiac Center amused her. Not that it would happen. Charlotte was long since dead. It would be amusing if she was there - a vampire helping cut a ribbon to a part of the hospital concentrating on the pulmonary system.

  The meeting faded into another tangent. Richard, Dr. Chiang, and the marketing director were clearly already on vacation. It seemed premature to be planning a reception for the end of March when they still had the gala to get through in February.

  Lizzie managed to conceal a breath of relief when the meeting broke up. She returned to her desk and saw the red light indicating missed phone calls. “Have a good Thanksgiving, Lizzie,” Dr. Chiang said kindly on her way out the door. Lizzie watched her walk down the corridor and swallowed back her silent envy. She wondered if Eric was still interning, if Dr. Chiang ever knew about them. If that was the reason she paid any attention to Richard’s admin.

  She scrolled through the list of missed calls. She saw Ben’s number twice. She went to her cell phone and saw three missed calls from him and a voicemail. She quickly dialed into voicemail and typed in her code.

  “Elizabeth,” he began and paused, creating a lump in Lizzie’s stomach. “I can’t leave the lab. It’s… it is very important that I stay. I feel awful. I know how important tomorrow is. I have a flight o
n Saturday. Pick me up after you leave the museum and I will make this up to you. I promise. I’m sorry. I love you.”

  Lizzie shut her phone as the lump in her stomach chilled her entire body. She didn’t call him back. She didn’t want to talk to him. She didn’t want to tempt the ache of disappointment by making her thoughts vocal. She simply texted she would pick him up at the airport Saturday night. She didn’t wish him a happy Thanksgiving.

  *****

  “It’s too bad Ben’s stuck in Chicago, Lizzie,” Jen sat beside her.

  “It sure is,” Lizzie stared at her beer bottle.

  “What is he going to do for dinner tomorrow?” Jack took a handful of chips from the coffee table.

  “Probably nothing,” Lizzie muttered.

  “I would like to do nothing,” Jen laughed. “It would be better than a house full of our relatives.”

  “You like hosting,” Jack argued.

  “That’s why you have chips and salsa tonight. I’m not cooking anymore.”

  “We invited Sara and her husband to come tonight,” Jack shrugged. “Sara said she’s busy helping her mother.”

  “Probably,” Lizzie looked at the conversation between Jack’s band mates. She was careful not to focus on Mike, lest he would think she was trying to catch his eye. “Jen, do you need any help with anything tonight? I’m happy to help while I’m here.”

  “Are you kidding? Sitting here and drinking is the best thing we can do right now,” Jen smirked.

  “Okay,” Lizzie sipped from her bottle.

  “Hey, did you hear?” Jack took more chips. “They think they found Melissa Benson’s body. Or what’s left of it.”

  “What?”

  “You didn’t hear it?” Jen exclaimed. “It’s all the local papers have been writing for a week.”

  “I guess it didn’t make the Boston news,” Lizzie wished she hadn’t spent all her idle time on Facebook.

  “Yeah, some hikers from New York or New Jersey were following the old springs last week. A woman in the group found a bone. The cops came. They think they found her whole body. They’re still doing DNA tests. But there was a Springs Regional sweatshirt.”

  “Where was it?”

  “At the edge of the water,” Jack interjected, as the conversation on the other side of the room went quiet. “They think she fell in the creek closer to her house where there is a significant drop. They say the currents carried her quite a ways. There wasn’t as much rain this year, so the water level dropped. That’s why they think the remains were found.”

  “So they think it was an accident?”

  “Either that or she jumped,” Mike snickered.

  “I don’t think that’s the case,” Jen shook her head. “They say it was rainy the night she disappeared. It was probably just a really unfortunate accident.”

  “You remember my mom used to freak out when we played in the woods? She always thought we would fall in that brook,” Jack looked at Lizzie.

  “That poor girl,” Lizzie let the tears form in her eyes, thinking of Oliver’s story and how badly Melissa wanted to become a vampire. How she felt rejected for not having her blood taken. How stupid she was for trying to trick a vampire.

  “Now her parents know,” Jack pursed his lips.

  “They can’t hope anymore,” Jen sighed.

  “Now they can move on,” Lizzie lowered her eyes. Now she knew. Now she could move on.

  *****

  Lizzie looked at the clock. Donna would return to the gift shop within fifteen minutes. They could close the door and start counting out the register. It still gave her four hours to idle about until she went to the airport. She agreed to meet him outside of Terminal B at 9:15. Part of her still wanted to tell him to get a cab and then go home to Jefferson Park. She knew it wasn’t his fault he was delayed in Chicago. She knew that… and yet… she didn’t feel it at all. She anticipated the honest conversation, where she would come clean about Oliver and say she was ready to leave Jefferson Park. She no longer had the energy to tell him the truth, much less the desire to forgive him enough to offer a commitment.

  It wasn’t his fault. She kept repeating that to herself throughout the past two days, when her relatives looked across Jen and Jack’s dining room table. She knew they were wondering if Lizzie really had a boyfriend, or if she was just making it up. Or if they believed she had someone, he clearly didn’t love her enough… to meet her family. He didn’t love her enough to leave that stupid clinic in Chicago and all its prime sources. If the clinic was open, what was there left for him to do? Was he going to more exclusive receptions? Even though he told Lizzie he wouldn’t have time to go. Or maybe he went and that was why he had to stay in Chicago longer. And miss Thanksgiving.

  The bell of the gift shop heightened her irritation. She didn’t want to deal with a stubborn tourist trying to get a visit after the last tour began. Or worse yet, it would be some Christmas shopper who would linger too long over history books.

  “Hi Lizzie.”

  She looked up and met Oliver’s dark eyes. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t call. But…” he breathed out. “I promised you I would get together with you and Ben before I went back to California.”

  “Oh,” she looked down and then back up at him. “Well, Ben is still in Chicago. I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

  “That’s too bad,” he looked uncomfortable and then met Lizzie’s eyes. “So you haven’t… he wasn’t home for Thanksgiving?”

  Lizzie remembered she told Oliver her plan. “I haven’t seen him for nine days.”

  “I’m sorry,” he sobered his expression.

  “I went home to Coldbrook anyway,” she couldn’t tell if his expression was sympathy or hope. “You know they found some bones in the state forest, by the old springs.”

  “Did they?”

  “Some hikers from New York… were you with them?” she asked what was on the periphery of her brain since Jen told her.

  “I thought a lot about our conversation, Lizzie,” he hesitated. “I didn’t know if we would find anything. I convinced Rachel and some friends to go for a hike. They were able to see things I wouldn’t let myself see.”

  “The body?”

  “Yes,” Oliver muttered as voices from Donna’s tour started to echo down the corridor. “My friend Ian knows a lot about water currents. We looked over two days.”

  “And then you had Rachel call the police?”

  “Yes,” Oliver bit his lip as the voices neared the gift shop. “I thought about… I wanted to give the family some peace. I knew enough to find the answer.”

  “How do I know that you didn’t just…” Lizzie lowered her voice as Donna appeared. “put it there?”

  Oliver looked up and smiled at the tour as they entered the shop. Lizzie smiled at Donna. “Donna, this is Oliver. This is Ben’s brother.”

  “Ben’s brother?” Donna held out her hand. “I actually haven’t met Ben… but I’ve been told he’s a good guy.”

  “So have I,” Oliver glanced at Lizzie.

  “Are you going to bring him through the house?” Donna suggested. Apparently, she didn’t know Lizzie already did that.

  “Um,” Lizzie darted her eyes to Oliver. “I think so. Is that okay?”

  “I’ll take care of any sales and then lock up the shop,” Donna agreed. “Do you mind closing the house as you go through?”

  “Not at all,” Lizzie left the desk and led Oliver quickly down the hallway into the parlor. She closed the door out of habit and looked at Oliver.

  “I didn’t put the body there, Lizzie.”

  “I know,” Lizzie turned to the window. “I just… I needed to doubt you for a minute.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…” Lizzie faded and pulled the shades. “I have to close the house as we go through.”

  “So… we’re alone here?”

  “Not yet. Donna is going to close the gift shop and then… yes,”
Lizzie nodded as she pulled the last window to darkness. She crossed the space quickly and went into the dining room.

  “It’s odd the way they set it up. You can tell no one eats in here.”

  “Kind of like a dining room for vampires. Plates that never get filled,” Lizzie pulled more shades.

  “Lily and one of the other girls… I can’t remember her name… used to finish the wine glasses as they cleared dinner,” Oliver walked towards her.

  “How was New York? When you weren’t taking hiking trips in Coldbrook?” Lizzie abruptly went to the kitchen.

  “It was fun,” Oliver closed the door for her.

  Lizzie let out a breath. “Good,” she paused at the fireplace and felt the draft coming down the chimney. “I can’t imagine what this… It must be difficult to return to this.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because this is where… Lily was the cause of so much sadness for you. Your life as a human was brief… and yet had so many consequences that…”

  “Lizzie,” he touched her hand.

  Lizzie stepped away from him. “What else do you remember? Other than herbs and meat hanging?”

  “Smells.”

  Lizzie wanted to know more. She wanted to know less. She walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She went directly into the master bedroom. She pulled the shades and noticed Oliver didn’t follow. She returned to the hall but didn’t see Oliver. She went to the guest room where he was pulling the second shade.

  “I saw Donna walk down the street.”

  Lizzie inhaled several slow deep breaths. The dim light of the lamps cast shadows she never noticed before. Oliver looked different… and more familiar in those shadows. She was aware of his height and strong muscles from working in his father’s shop… only, no, he was hiking and cycling. He wasn’t a wheelwright any longer. Lizzie looked away from him and darted her eyes about the room.

  ”We should… I need to finish closing the house,” she caught her breath but couldn’t move.

  “Lizzie, I keep thinking about you. About our conversations,” he paused and lifted his eyes, daring her to meet them. She tried to focus on the worn carpet but felt compelled to glance at his dark pupils. “About that moment in the train station.”