by Jessie Olson
The ring of her phone broke the stillness. She tried to ignore it, but she set her volume too high. She silenced the ringer and noticed Andrew’s repetition of unfortunate timing.
“You have to go.”
“I don’t…”
“Someone is waiting for you,” he looked back to the hospital building.
“No, Ben, I – “
“I just hope that means you are staying away from Oliver,” he said it. Why did he have to say it?
“I… he went back to California.”
“I’m glad you are staying away from him.”
“I’m not with him,” she summoned the courage to tell him what she waited to tell him since that December morning in the hotel. She didn’t want to be with Oliver because she still loved him. “It’s not because he is a bad person, Ben.”
“No?”
Lizzie’s thoughts clouded with the memory of hitting her head against the back of the country store. That was a mistake. An unfortunate mistake. Why did Ben have to make such an awful assumption about Oliver? He was crowding her head with things that had nothing to do with the emotion swelling within her heart. She wanted to tell him about her dreams. Why was he making it so difficult to say anything? Why did he just want to talk about Oliver? “I decided to be alone,” she let the words escape her without thinking. “I needed to get away from both of you to clear my head.”
“Good,” he nodded and shortened his breath. “That is how it should be.”
“Ben, now I know…” she began without softening her voice.
“You should go back inside, Lizzie. I imagine he’s anxious to take you home.”
Lizzie wanted to throw her purse. She was so infuriated with him and herself. Why couldn’t she say what she wanted to say? Why did he have to bring up Oliver? Oliver was gone. He didn’t visit her dreams. Lily didn’t want Oliver any more than Elizabeth. Why didn’t Ben stay? Why did he come at all if it was only to tell her to go back inside and be with someone else? There wasn’t someone else. She looked once more in the shadows to see if he would come back. All she could hear was the buzz of the light at the edge of the parking lot. She turned around and went back into the hospital, where Eric was waiting with a glass of wine.
*****
Lizzie appreciated the light from the street. It made it easier to find her stockings without having to turn on one of the lamps. She took in a breath as she sat on the edge of the sofa and stared at her unfinished wine glass. She didn’t want to leave in such a rude rush. But he was asleep. She wasn’t going to stay through the morning. This wasn’t like that.
She shut her eyes to squeeze out the tears. She was tired. Just tired. It was a long night. She wasn’t going to think about Ben. She wasn’t going to think about how she just… she just did it to him again. She went to someone else. Ben didn’t want her. He walked away. He told her to go inside. Then why did he just show up like that?
She needed to leave if she was going to get to the train before service stopped for the evening. She didn’t want to walk in her heels. She should have taken her car. Why… why, why? She was supposed to be moving forward and making improvements in her life. Not stepping back into her old bad habits.
She rolled her stockings up her thigh and noticed the red blemishes. What would Ben have thought of those? Would he care? Would he look down on her because she was so reckless? She pushed down her skirt and stood up to grab her shoes.
“I was wondering about those,” Eric stood in the archway of his living room. Lizzie lost the strength to stand on her sore feet and sat back down on the couch.
“Those are pretty recent, aren’t they?” he didn’t leave his stance, but looked at Lizzie strangely. She couldn’t tell if it was judgment or … something else. It wasn’t… the light in the room was too dim. He couldn’t possibly be one of them. She just saw him eating shrimp at the opening. And… there were just too many in her life now to make sense. She was tired and was imagining things again.
Did he think it was a disease? Was that his concern after a lapse of precaution during their hasty seduction? He didn’t say anything then. He wouldn’t be looking at her that way if he was threatened by those marks.
Lizzie swallowed and tried to keep her face cool. She reached for her abandoned wine glass and took a sip to thaw her frozen reaction. “They’re just bug bites,” she made a strong effort to be calm.
“No they aren’t,” he sat beside her.
“Then what are they?” she forced a smile.
“Something else bit you. Or I should say someone,” he took the wine glass and helped himself to a sip.
“There’s no such thing as vampires,” she tried again to laugh. Maybe she said too much.
“How long have you been a source?”
“I…” she tried to begin but still felt trapped by the confusion between relief and fear. “Are you a source?”
“I am,” he met her eyes. It wasn’t as intimidating as Claire, but Lizzie did not feel in control of the situation. She always felt she knew exactly how to identify Eric and his confident surgeon personality. A vampire feeder was not part of that. She looked at his neck exposed by his unbuttoned shirt. “I go to the clinic.”
“Oh,” Lizzie heaved out a deep breath.
“That’s not where you got these,” he slid his hand up her thigh. “Are you dating one?”
“I was,” Lizzie looked at the liquid in her wide mouthed glass. She imagined the vampire world wasn’t that large. If Eric went to the clinic, he knew Ben. She was tempted to explain Claire, but stopped herself. He wasn’t moving his hand. She knew that was deliberate, but she was too curious to indulge it. “How did you find out about them?”
“I dated one while I was a student. But it didn’t work out. It never does.”
“So you are still…” she didn’t finish her question as he leaned in to kiss her. She felt his hand go the rim of the stockings, but she wasn’t ready to stop the conversation. Having someone in her normal day to day life who knew about vampires, who knew about the clinic, who wasn’t Alec McCaffrey made the dreams less surreal and everything of the past year more believable. She pulled his hand away from her hip and slid away from his kiss.
“I am her source at the clinic,” he pushed back Lizzie’s disheveled hair.
“Does she bite you?”
“Not these days,” he looked at her thigh.
Lizzie studied him, wondering if it was someone at the hospital. Someone ageless and beautiful and more accomplished than her age would imply. “It’s Dr. Chiang, isn’t it?”
He smiled briefly as his answer. Lizzie thought of those brilliant blue eyes and tried to remember if there was any hint of her hunger or what she really was. She glanced back to Eric to see if there was any emotion in his revelation. He leaned to kiss her again, stopping any question from escaping her lips. She decided to let it go and gave in to the hands that slid back up her thigh.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“If we sell coffee, we could have a nice little shop for our baked goods,” Andrew mused over his Starbucks cup.
Lizzie laughed, not sure they could compete with the industry giant two blocks away. Hopefully the secret would be Andrew’s pastries. She had to admit the space was growing on her. With a decent clean up and a new stove, the kitchen would be a good work space. “Nora’s aunt called me yesterday. She would like to hire us for her book club tea.”
“I hope we get the loan so we have a kitchen.”
“We can do that out of my kitchen…” Lizzie faded, knowing Andrew was excited about the idea of renting a space like this.
“Yes, but this is better,” Andrew repeated again. She was glad to see him so excited and wasn’t going to argue against him. She knew Davis was encouraging the idea of a storefront. If they got the loan and the ability to pay for it, she might be convinced.
The landlord returned from a phone call in his office. Andrew immediately went to his side with another flurry of questions. Lizzie wasn’t m
uch interested in the ability to paint the walls, knowing full well Andrew would have the final say to the interior design. Lizzie didn’t much care as long as she had say over the kitchen. She looked to the window and watched the foot traffic, wondering how many passersby were the type to stop in a cute little bakery for a cup of coffee or would solicit their services for a party.
The April sun brightened the sidewalk, exposing some of the dingy color of the urban street. There were a lot of college students crossing back and forth. They weren’t likely to want a caterer, but they would come in for coffee – especially if the shop was open late at night. Granted, it was the middle of the day. There were likely young professionals in the neighborhood who might visit on the weekend or older couples like the one across the street from Ben’s old apartment.
She took another sip from her coffee and refocused on the passing foot traffic. Everyone seemed to enjoy the burst of spring sunshine. A few pedestrians locked into the concentration of an iPod or cell phone oblivious to the weather. She liked the diversity, the vitality, the… she saw someone pass the window and almost dropped her coffee. Will? No, it wasn’t Will. She was sure when he came back and looked at her through the window.
“Hi Lizzie,” he let himself in the door.
“Oliver,” Lizzie looked briefly at Andrew who cast his eyes on the tall dark haired man. “What are you doing here – in town?”
“I was invited to give another lecture at UMASS. I put some more research together… so it seemed like a good opportunity to see if my theories make sense to the general public,” he smiled and nodded at Andrew.
“Andrew, this is Oliver,” Lizzie lowered her voice, knowing Andrew understood who Oliver was.
“Nice to meet you,” Andrew’s appreciation of Oliver’s physique was not subtle.
“Andrew and I are starting a business,” Lizzie explained. “We’re hoping to rent this space.”
“Not a bad location. Not far from the university,” Oliver nodded.
“We’re going to get lunch,” Andrew offered. Lizzie could sense a bit of mischief in his voice. “Would you like to join us?”
Oliver looked at Lizzie. He would have welcomed the invitation if it was just her making it. “I just ate,” Oliver wasn’t lying. She saw the color in his cheeks. Did that mean he had a source in the neighborhood? Did that mean she would see him in the neighborhood whenever he came to town?
“That’s a pity,” Andrew looked back at the landlord as he hung up his phone again. “I will finish things up and we can head out. Oliver, at least join us for a drink.”
Lizzie watched Andrew return to the other side of the vacant shop. “You don’t have to.”
“I actually have to be somewhere,” Oliver sighed. “A business, huh?”
“The hospital is boring,” Lizzie shrugged. “I wanted to do something more interesting with my life.”
“You’re running another marathon.”
“Yup,” Lizzie realized he paid attention to her Facebook. “Did the lecture go well?”
“I think so. I hope this research will qualify me for a federal grant.”
“Wow. That’s great, Oliver. Really great.”
“I’m seeing someone.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve known her for a few years,” he lowered his voice so she was the only one who could hear. “She was actually a source for Alison. She works at the university and is a big help with my research.”
“You are going to meet her?”
“Yeah,” he pursed his lips. “What about you? Are you seeing someone?”
“Nothing serious,” Lizzie glanced at Andrew who started asking questions about paint again.
“Are you happy?” Oliver looked at her, almost unraveling her cool.
“I’m trying.”
“Do you see Ben at all?”
“I saw him a couple weeks ago,” Lizzie forced the emotion to stay in her stomach. “He went to Chicago for a little while. But now he’s back in Boston.”
“I knew he went to Chicago…” Oliver faded. “I didn’t realize he came back.”
“He has a business here,” Lizzie shrugged with the logic she repeated to herself over and over.
“Yes. Yes, he does.”
“It’s good to see you,” she said blankly as she heard Andrew affirm the fact they would have a decision by the end of the week.
“Yes,” Oliver smiled. “I’m glad I happened to walk by when you were here. I felt very badly about how things ended when I last saw you. I’m glad that we were able to… say hello.”
“Yes, it was nice,” Lizzie nodded as Andrew returned to their side.
“So how about that drink, Oliver?”
“I’m afraid not,” Oliver shook his head. “It was good to see you, Lizzie.”
Lizzie watched him walk out the door and heaved a giant sigh of relief.
*****
Lizzie didn’t make it to the shower before the contents of her stomach rose to her throat. She rinsed out her mouth and washed her face as she determined to call into the office. She froze at the look of her reflection when she thought about the date. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. So stupid.
Meg was on the other side of the door when Lizzie left the bathroom. “Are you okay?” Meg asked with genuine concern. Lizzie didn’t want to answer. She had to go to her room and calculate the weeks. She nodded hastily and left the bathroom. “Are you pregnant?” Meg called down the hallway.
Lizzie turned. Why would she make that assumption so rapidly? Was it on Lizzie’s face? “No,” she denied too emphatically. “It was just something I ate.”
Lizzie went back up the stairs. She couldn’t talk to Meg. The last thing she needed was Meg’s council about options. She didn’t want to think about options. She didn’t want to think about what this could mean. She knew she had been foolish. Why didn’t she go back on the pill? She was too lazy. Too greedy. Too stupid.
She made the call into Richard, using the same excuse of bad food. She didn’t remember what she ate in the past 48 hours. She stared at her phone, contemplating another person to call. She thought about Nora. Nora would know… at least how to stop the sick feeling in her stomach. She knew Eric was probably in surgery. She couldn’t call him yet. He was a doctor. She knew another doctor… no that wasn’t a possibility.
She put down the phone when the knock came to her door. She opened it and saw Meg standing in a towel, with wet hair dripping over her shoulders. “Here,” she handed Lizzie a box. “I had a scare of my own a few weeks ago. I got a couple extra.”
“Really?”
“Yeah really,” Meg looked hard.
“Thanks.”
“It doesn’t take too long. If you need anything, I’ll be here,” Meg touched her arm.
Lizzie managed an expression of appreciation and shut the door. She threw up a second time before taking the test. Was she supposed to vomit that much? She needed to run. How on earth was she going to get through this?
She left the stick on the back of her toilet. She returned to the phone and opened up her contact list. She saw Ben’s name. She ached, ached to talk to him. But… how could she … if she was going to have another man’s baby? A baby that he could never give her? It would be wicked – and some level of satisfaction to hurt him with that fact – but she couldn’t do that to him.
A baby. The panic ebbed away. She gave up thoughts of ever having a child. She wasn’t going to have that possibility with Ben. Now, she figured her child would be her business. She didn’t think she would commit to someone as she had with Ben. She didn’t think the one night reunion with Eric was more than one night. Now there was a possibility for something different. It wouldn’t be… she didn’t want him to give her a ring. He would support her. At least she assumed he would. Maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe a baby would erase the desirability quotient she earned with fang marks on her thigh.
She really didn’t feel very good. Maybe it was a fever. Maybe it was the fish she ate for dinner. Th
e idea of food made her stomach swim again. She went back to the bathroom, but the nausea subsided. She picked up the stick resting on the back of the toilet. It was negative. She felt the swift energy drain of all her lost food. Her stomach wasn’t happy. She was very, very tired. She tried to drink some water, but she only had the ability to go back to her bed and fall asleep.
*****
Her head was a cloud when she went back to the bathroom. She didn’t know how long she slept. The sun was outside, but the light was so dull in her room. She looked at the test again and readjusted her eyes. It wasn’t a minus sign. It was a plus sign. She knew it was. She knew it was wrong. She knew that truth for weeks. Now she had to tell Ben.
First she had to go back to the store. Andrew was waiting to discuss paint colors. She didn’t want to discuss paint. She didn’t want to talk with all the people who came in looking for coffee. They weren’t ready. The store wasn’t open. She saw Ben, but couldn’t talk to him there. Not amongst all the people. Not when she had work to do. She left a note for him to meet her at the end of the day, when her work was complete. He watched as she hurried about filling cups of coffee, those green eyes weakening her resolve to tell him the decision she had to make.
She knew Oliver was waiting outside the store. She felt badly for ignoring him. She couldn’t take time away from the kitchen. She would go to him after… and tell him that he was going to be a father.
She walked past the cars, down the hill towards the river. She took her shoes off and put her feet in the water, letting the grass wave over the tops of her toes. Her feet ached from the long day. She hoped he would find the rose and come to her. She knew if he didn’t come that night, her courage would fail. She would leave without telling him.