You Made Me Love You

by Neesa Hart

  “That—” Anna shook her head. “And other things.”

  Eli frowned, but didn’t press for more information. “She’s very guarded,” he admitted.

  “And as you well know, she’s missing out on things she should be experiencing.”

  “Like dancing?”

  “Like life,” Anna said firmly. “Liza loves to dance, it’s true. And she’s very good at it, but even if she chooses to spend the rest of her life teaching instead of performing, she’ll still have her soul in the art. What I’m talking about is what happens to a person when they stop taking emotional risks. A part of them dies when that happens.”

  Eli studied her in the waning afternoon light. “We aren’t talking about Liza anymore, are we?”

  Wryly, she smiled at him. “I thought men were notoriously uninsightful.”

  “We are. I’m just better at probing than most. Comes with the territory of being a research scientist.”

  Anna nodded. “Yes, I suppose it does.” He watched, fascinated, as her expression turned profoundly sad. “I think I found myself drawn to Liza,” she explained carefully, “because I saw so much of myself in her.”

  Eli waited, sensing that Anna would need time to get the story out. When she continued, her voice had taken on a husky tone that told him she was rummaging through painful memories, seeking the ones she could most easily face. “Like Liza, I married young.”

  “You were still living in Austria,” he softly prompted.

  “Yes. And the Germans were taking over the world. It was a frightening time, a dangerous time. My husband, Rudolf, and I decided to leave Europe and come here.”

  “I didn’t know you’d been married.”

  Her smile turned sad. “We had a child—a daughter, but she became ill the day we were supposed to sail. She couldn’t make the trip. Rudolf was five years older than I, and I think he understood better what was happening. I wanted to stay there with him and Natalie, but he insisted I go ahead. He said he’d bring Natalie when she was better.”

  “I can’t imagine what it was like for you to leave them.” The lines on her face seemed to have grown deeper.

  “I didn’t want to. Rudolf and I argued, but he insisted that we could never afford to purchase two more fares if we sacrificed the tickets we’d already bought. He could stay and work to earn the money for a second fare while my mother cared for Natalie. I thought it would be a matter of a few months at most.”

  Eli studied her gentle face, usually ready with a quick smile and a laugh, now aged and worn almost beyond recognition. “He never came,” he guessed.

  Anna shook her head, her expression far away. “No. Natalie died of fever. Rudolf was arrested by the Germans, along with my mother and father. They’d been harboring Jews from the Nazis and it finally caught up with them. A friend of mine wrote and told me what had happened. I never saw or heard from my family again.”

  “Ah, Anna.” Eli felt a twisting sensation squeeze at his gut. “I’m so sorry.”

  She gave him a sad smile. “It is in the past, Eli. I’m an old woman, and I have learned to love what I have. I regret what I lost, but I can’t have it back.”

  He reached over to squeeze her hand. “You are a remarkable woman, Anna.”

  She met his gaze, then. “Not so remarkable. For years, I let the loss overwhelm me. I lived in fear of experiencing that kind of pain again.” Her lips moved into a slight smile. “Fortunately, I had the lessons Rudolf had taught me. It took time, but soon, I learned to remember what he said. Rudolf was a wonderful musician. He wrote music that many considered dangerous and subversive.” She laughed. “Now, it seems funny. If Rudolf’s critics heard the music coming from the dorm rooms at night, no telling what they’d think.”

  Eli smiled at her. “I can see why you have so much passion for encouraging these young girls.”

  “Many of them have never had a chance to dream of anything beyond the day to day struggle of their lives, Eli. Everyone needs a dream. Rudolf believed that, and so do I.”

  “But you lost your dream.”

  “In a way.” She set her glass down on the table. “When I lost Rudolf and Natalie, my dream changed. I wanted to teach music—it was part of Rudolf. So I studied, and learned, and got my certificate, and finally got a job here at Breeland. At first, being around the girls made me miss Natalie so much I thought I couldn’t bear it. But Rudolf was fond of saying that, ‘Every soul deserves at least one waltz in a lifetime.’ The summer students, I realized, had never had that chance.”

  She glanced out the window, watched for several seconds as a sparrow fluttered against the pane. “I wanted to give them that chance. I knew Rudolf would want it. So I used some of his music that I’d brought with me, and began teaching my students how to play it, and how to write music of their own.”

  “You were criticized,” he guessed.

  “I was. Music teachers were supposed to teach theory and classics. Mozart belonged in the music class, not Rudolf Forian.”

  “But your students liked it.”

  “Yes. So I began teaching them the work of other composers as well. Scott Joplin, Cole Porter, Aaron Copeland. It doesn’t seem so strange now, but you can imagine what happened when I introduced Elvis Presley into a classroom. Parents of the well-bred young ladies who were our regular students weren’t entirely pleased, and the donors and administrators of the summer program weren’t too certain they liked it either.”

  She laughed again. “I won’t even discuss the backlash when the Rolling Stones became part of my curriculum.”

  Eli laughed, too. “I had no idea you were such a rebel.”

  “Oh, one of the worst. I loved those girls, though. That’s why I did it. I didn’t want them to see such a narrow view of the world that they missed their opportunity to waltz.”

  “When did Liza enter the picture?”

  “Liza.” Her face softened when she said the name. “Liza was an angry little thing when she came here. It’s not surprising. She’d never had parents—not really. Her mother was as much of a child as she was.”

  “She told me that.”

  “So the rules took her by surprise. She didn’t like them, and had no trouble telling me how she felt.”

  Easily, he could picture a ten-year-old Liza, hot-headed and temperamental, raging against a system that offered her so little. “She doesn’t seem to have that problem with me, either.”

  Anna nodded. “Liza’s a straight shooter. I told you that before.”

  “She loves you very much.”

  “We’ve been together a long time. We bonded. I needed Liza, I think. And Liza needed me. A part of me felt like I had a second chance to be a mother to Natalie.”

  “Liza’s a remarkable woman.”

  “She is. And she has a remarkable will.” The twinkle was back in Anna’s eyes when she looked at him. “Before this is over, you’ll be wishing you chose someone more amenable.”

  That made him laugh. “I didn’t choose this. That’s part of the problem..”

  “Liza has a way of doing that. I’m glad you recognize it.”

  “Which brings us back to my question about New York. Do you think she’ll go with me?”

  “It surprised the daylights out of me that she said she would,” Anna confessed. “As well as I know Liza, I’ve never been good at predicting her actions. I wouldn’t have believed she’d even agree to, er, become involved with you, so I honestly can’t say.”

  “But if you had to bet?”

  “I’d bet that she’d find a way to squirm out of it at the last moment. Whatever excuse she gives you, it’ll be an excellent one. You won’t even be able to fault her for it.”

  He considered it a minute, then set his glass down on the table. “I’m hoping you’re wrong.”

  “So am I,” she told him. “And just in case I am, Grace is welcome to stay here for the weekend, or, if she wants, she can stay in the dorm with Beth, and I’ll make sure the RD keeps an eye on them.�
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  He rubbed his hands on his jean-clad thighs, then rose to go. “Thanks. And thanks for the visit. I’ve got to go, or I’ll be late for class.”

  “One last thing, Eli,” she said as he headed for the door.

  He turned to face her. “Yes?”

  “Liza tried waltzing once, and it hurt her badly. She’s going to need some help learning the steps again.”

  He nodded. “I’ll remember.”

  Anna smiled at him. “I believe you will.”

  12

  “Okay, Liza, inquiring minds want to know. How good is The King of the Jungle in the, er, swing?” Liza’s friend Rachel Ramsey dropped into the overstuffed chair in Liza’s apartment. As always, Liza was delighted with the chance to visit with her close friend and fellow Breeland alumna. Rachel’s bi-monthly business trips to the campus gave them ample time to linger in the pleasure of each other’s company, catch up on gossip, and share girl-talk.

  Liza pressed a cup of coffee into Rachel’s hand, then settled onto the sofa. “That was smooth, Rachel, real smooth.”

  Rachel’s eyes lit. “So, it’s true.”

  “Eli and me? Yes. It’s true.”

  Her friend looked positively exultant. “Oh, good. I want to hear every last delicious detail.”

  “Obviously, you already know most of them.”

  “Anna told me when I saw her today at the meeting.”

  “Great. I wasn’t aware the details of my private life were the subject of board of visitor’s meetings.”

  “We discussed you before the meeting, sweetie. The meeting was about Bill’s grant proposal.” She rolled her eyes. “Or lack thereof.”

  Liza leaned her head back against the sofa and let her eyes drift shut. As usual, the effervescent effect of Rachel’s company was lifting her spirits. “Poor Bill.”

  “Poor Breeland,” Rachel said. “The school had a great shot at that DeWhitley grant. Bill’s proposal was wretched.”

  “He’ll just end up giving the money himself.”

  “That’s just my point.” Rachel picked up her mug. “Liza, there’s a reason you and Anna convinced the board to hire me as Breeland’s fund-raising consultant.”

  “You don’t have to convince me of that.” She shook her head. Rachel, who had graduated from Breeland the year after Liza, had infused new life into the school’s antiquated fund-raising efforts. “You’ve done wonders for the place.”

  “Then why can’t I make the board understand that it’s not prudent or farsighted to keep depending on Bill Maxin for the bulk of Breeland’s funding?”

  Liza laughed. “Be patient. You know how tradition-bound things are around here.”

  “Traditional enough for Breeland’s star scientist to be attracting quite a bit of attention.” Rachel tucked a strand of platinum blond hair behind her ear. “At least tell me if he’s as hot in private as he is on television.”

  Hotter, Liza thought. “Can I plead the fifth?”

  “No way, babe. I want to know exactly what’s going on between you two, and I’m not letting up until you tell me.”

  “You know how I’ve always admired tenacity in a person.”

  Rachel’s gaze turned probing. “You’re stalling. You never stall with me.”

  “I’m not stalling. I already told you, the rumors are true. Eli and I have a mutual attraction—”

  “That’s not the way I heard it.”

  At the sarcastic comment, Liza gave her a dry look. “I don’t care what Anna told you, Eli and I are hardly in the middle of a torrid affair. You know what it’s like around here. When would I have the time or the privacy for a love life?”

  “You’d find a way if you wanted to,” Rachel assured her.

  “I doubt it. My apartment building is filled with Breeland staff.”

  “And I understand Liontakis has his own apartment all the way across town.”

  “Where he lives with his ten-year-old daughter.”

  “Who likes to stay in the dorm on occasion.” At Liza’s scowl, Rachel laughed. “What can I say? I have my sources.”

  “Still, it’s not as if I’ve got scads of free time on my hands. You know how demanding the summer session is. When, precisely, am I supposed to be conducting this fling?”

  “You’ve made it work so far, haven’t you? Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

  “How original.” Liza took a sip of her coffee.

  Rachel leaned back in her chair with a soft sigh. Her pale blond hair framed her features in a modern cut that made her look simultaneously sophisticated and friendly. As teenagers, they’d bonded at Breeland and that relationship had blossomed into one of the greatest friendships of Liza’s life. Which, she mused, was both a good thing and a bad thing. She could relax, completely, with Rachel, and know the other woman would still accept her, flaws and all. But she couldn’t get away with much, either.

  As if she read Liza’s mind, Rachel probed, “This isn’t about Drew, is it?”

  Evidently, Liza thought, she couldn’t get away with anything. “Of course it’s about Drew. It’s about Drew, and about my mother, and about—Josh.”

  “Oh, Liza.” Rachel set her mug on the coffee table as she moved across the room to sit next to Liza on the sofa. “It never stops hurting, does it?”

  Liza shook her head. When, she wondered, had the nerves at the base of her skull bunched into knots and her stomach begun to ache? About the time, she knew, that she’d decided she might be willing to risk everything for Eli. Things she hadn’t felt since she’d lost her baby had begun to claw at her, and she was reeling from them. “I loved him so much,” she whispered. A hot rush of tears threatened and surprised her. She met Rachel’s gaze through a watery haze. “I loved him.”

  “I know.”

  “Having Josh was like—” she shook her head. “Sometimes I can’t believe my baby died. I could never make myself believe that my baby died.”

  Rachel’s arm circled her shoulders. “Oh, honey, I know. You can’t imagine how much I wish I had been there for you.”

  “You were here.” Liza wiped angrily at the tears now spilling from her eyes. “Where I should have been.”

  Rachel rubbed a hand on Liza’s back while she let the wave of sorrow crest. “That’s not true, Liza. You know that.”

  She shook her head. “If I hadn’t—if Drew and I hadn’t—well, it might not have happened.”

  “And if you hadn’t married Drew and gone to New York, you wouldn’t have had Josh at all. Liza,” Rachel waited until Liza met her gaze, “you were nineteen years old. When are you going to forgive yourself for something you couldn’t even control?”

  “I don’t know.” She buried her face in her hands. “Do you know that a day doesn’t pass when I don’t think about Josh? He was so—perfect.”

  “I know.”

  “I didn’t know it was possible to love someone as much as I loved my son.”

  “If you’d known that Josh would get ill and die so young, would you have made the choice not to have him?”

  Liza hesitated, then shook her head. “I don’t think so. I only had him for three months, but those were the happiest three months of my life.” Shuddering, she allowed herself to relive the memories. “Since my mother—I wanted someone to love. I wanted someone I could take care of, and nurture and fight for.” She glanced at Rachel. “My shrink says I was secretly getting revenge on my mother for turning me over to Breeland by investing my love in Josh.”

  “There was nothing secret about it,” Rachel said softly.

  Liza managed a slight smile. “That’s what I told him. That’s also when I told myself to get a grip, and I quit seeing him. I don’t think I needed to pay five thousand dollars for someone to tell me that the reason I wanted to be a really great mother was because I never had one.”

  “What you went through—I can’t even imagine.” Rachel visibly shuddered. “But can you find a way to be thankful for the three months you had Josh in your life, wi
thout letting the tragedy overwhelm you?”

  “Sometimes, I think so. Other times, I’m not so sure. I don’t think it will ever stop hurting.”

  “It’s probably not supposed to.” Her expression turned thoughtful. “My guess would be that you’d be abnormally weird if you got completely over something like that.”

  Liza rubbed her eyes—hard, to rid them of the lingering tears. “Did you learn that in Psych 101 at that fancy college you went to?”

  “No way. I was too busy with business classes to give much attention to stuff like that.” Her expression turned serious again. “But I know this: you can’t keep locking away your emotions for fear of getting hurt.”

  “Why not?” Liza managed to quip. “It’s worked ‘til now.”

  Rachel glared at her. “Very funny. And it has not worked, either. Liza, you’re an incredible person. You have so much to offer the world.”

  “And I’ve chosen to offer it here, at Breeland.”

  Rachel pursed her lips in a look Liza recognized as mutiny. “Just tell me this. How serious are you about Eli?”

  “What did Anna tell you?”

  “Only that there’s a certain energy between the two of you. You know she’d never betray your confidence.”

  Liza nodded. “I know, but Anna has known me a long time, She hasn’t seen me like this since Drew. I feel—out of control. Eli does that to me.”

  “Is that really such a bad thing?”

  “It’s a scary thing. Look what happened last time I let my heart talk me into something my brain kept saying was a really bad idea.”

  “I don’t think you can honestly compare what was going on with Drew with what’s going on with Eli. Liza, you were a kid. Kids do dumb things.”

  “I know, but that doesn’t change the fact that I learned a really important lesson about who I am when Joshua died. I can’t risk that much of myself, Rachel. I almost didn’t survive.”

  Rachel sighed in exasperation. “But you did. I think you’re the strongest person I know, and it kills me that you’ve isolated yourself here in Terrance because you’re afraid of getting hurt again.”

  “Everyone’s afraid of getting hurt, Rachel.” The defensive note in her voice made her wince.