Marriage Mistake

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Marriage Mistake Page 29

by Lively, R. S.


  "Defend themselves?" she asks. "What's that mean?"

  "Exactly the question I asked. According to the story Mrs. Davidson's grandfather told her, the prom being canceled wasn't the main reason Mr. Kleinfelder left Magnolia Falls and didn't come back. Rumor has it, our dear Kleinie had a sweetheart. Unfortunately, their families didn't approve of the relationship."

  "Why not?" Emma asks.

  "Let's just say they came from opposite sides of the confessional," I tell her. "They dated all through high school and hoped their parents would eventually accept their relationship when they saw how long they were together, and how in love they were."

  "Let me guess, it didn't work out that way."

  "It did not," I confirm. "Mr. Kleinfelder went to her father to ask permission to propose. He wanted to marry her, and with the war getting worse, and more people being sent overseas, they didn't have time to waste. He went to her house with the hopes that her father would see how serious he was about her, and would give his blessing. According to Grandpappy Davidson, he didn't even get all the way up onto the front porch. His girl's father had caught wind of the impending conversation and decided to cut him off at the pass. He met him on the sidewalk, and before Mr. Kleinfelder could even start to say anything, he told him in no uncertain terms there would be no blessing, and no wedding. Mr. Kleinfelder argued, but there was no budging. As far as the father was concerned, the conversation was over."

  "Somehow, I don't think you're going to finish this story with… and that's what happened, and he was just so frustrated he left town."

  "You're right," I say. "I wish it had been that simple. Unfortunately, it wasn't. As you can imagine, they weren't very happy with her father's decision. They thought he was being completely unfair, and decided they weren't going to listen to him. Both of them were about to turn eighteen, and they knew he wouldn’t have any control over them anymore. They decided to use prom as their cover. It was a few months away, but by that time they would have both turned eighteen and be able to leave school, and Magnolia Falls, and no one could say anything about it. Their plan was to attend the prom separately and meet up there. From there, they would leave and get married. Eleanor, his sweetheart, signed up to be a part of the prom planning committee. That would give her the opportunity to be in the school putting up decorations, which meant she could start stashing away the things they wanted to bring with them. They had everything planned out."

  "And then the school burned down," she says.

  I nod.

  "Eleanor was supposed to be decorating the school the day of the fire. Mr. Kleinfelder hadn't heard from her all day, and when he got to the school, the firefighters wouldn't let him any closer. He looked for Eleanor, but he couldn't find her. He asked everybody who had been in the school where she was, and if she had gotten out, but nobody knew. He tried to tell the men fighting the flames somebody was missing, but they wouldn't listen to him."

  "What happened to Eleanor?" Emma asks.

  "That's where things get interesting," I say. "Grandpappy Davidson says nobody knows. No one else had heard from her that day, either. A few people said they thought they saw her around the school, but nobody could really prove she was there. No one ever saw her again."

  I see the color drain from Emma's face.

  "No one ever saw her again?" she asks. "She just… disappeared?"

  "Some people said she was in the school that day and died. But her body was never found. Some people started whispering that her body had been taken out of the rubble. Some even suggested the fire had been set intentionally by someone who knew she was going to be trapped inside."

  "They accused sweet Mr. Kleinfelder," Emma says.

  "Some did. Some even suggested he had kidnapped her and was holding her captive somewhere her father couldn't get her. Others said maybe Eleanor set the fire herself so she could escape."

  "What do you mean escape?"

  "Apparently her parents weren't the only ones who weren't receptive to the idea of them being together. Some people believed she didn't want to be with Mr. Kleinfelder, and that he was controlling her, or forcing her to stay with him. They couldn't bring themselves to believe she actually wanted to marry him. Another young man went missing around the same time. His parents claimed they knew where he was, but they'd never give anybody any details. The rumor mill started churning, and soon a good portion of the town believed Eleanor had taken up with him, and they had decided to run away together, but didn't want to face the backlash."

  "So, they thought she burned down a school to get away without anyone knowing? How could they possibly think that was an easier option just breaking up with Mr. Kleinfelder?"

  "Things were different then," I say. "Your reputation, and what people thought of the decisions you made in your life were all important. If Eleanor really didn't want to be with Mr. Kleinfelder anymore, and had fallen in love with someone older and unsuited to her, she wouldn't want to be shamed. It would be easier to just disappear and start life over somewhere else than face judgment. Especially if they were as friendly with each other as some people say they were. It was a completely different world back then. You couldn't track somebody with the Internet, or the streams from security cameras posted every fifteen feet. A person who didn't want to be found, could just slink away, and start over again."

  "Wow," Emma says. "You really did deliver a potential body and a sordid affair. I’m impressed."

  "I did," I say. "And I'm not done yet."

  "Mr. Kleinfelder never believed Eleanor had left him. He said he knew her too well, and that above anything else, they were honest with each other. If she didn’t love him anymore, she would have told him. He gave her every opportunity to choose the easier path. She came from a very comfortable family and had no shortage of men who would have been happy to swoop in and marry her right after graduation. She would have had a much easier life if she had just decided to end their relationship and honor what her father decided. But she didn't. She was the one who came up with the idea of leaving during prom. She was the one who signed up for the decorating committee.”

  "So, Mr. Kleinfelder never accepted what happened or gave up hope," Emma says.

  "He never believed she would hurt him like that. He was determined to find out what happened to her. But then, like so many of the other men in Magnolia Falls at the time, Kleinie was called into service."

  "What happened after that?" Emma asks

  "I don't know," I say. "That was all Mrs. Davidson knew. He left for the war and never came back. Of course, there were more rumors and speculation. Some people still believe he had something to do with her disappearance."

  "What did her parents have to say about it? Did they believe Mr. Kleinfelder had something to do with it, too?"

  "They were suspiciously evasive about the entire situation, according to Mrs. Davidson. Her grandfather told her they never really said one way or another what they thought had happened to her. There was a lot of innuendoes, of course. But even though most people would think they would immediately accuse him of foul play, they pretty much left him alone when Eleanor disappeared. Supposedly, they were far more invested in the idea that something had happened to her at the school. And listen to this, do you remember how I said the site of the original school is on private land, and the family who owns it didn't want anybody to have access to it?"

  "Yes," Emma says.

  "Guess who those owners are."

  Her eyes widen.

  "Eleanor's parents," she says.

  "Technically, her grandparents. They owned the land where the school had been built, and reclaimed rights over it after the fire. Her grandparents were reclusive and didn't have much to do with anyone else, but her parents were far more prominent figures in the community.”

  "But that means they're the ones who wouldn't let the police do a full investigation," Emma says. "How can that be? If they thought something happened to their daughter at the school, why would they avoid an investigati
on? And if there was any possibility of somebody being hurt in the fire, much less killed, the police shouldn't have to get permission from the landowner to investigate the site."

  "You would think," I say. "But again, things were different then. Magnolia Falls was even smaller than it is now, and loyalties ran deep. Even though Eleanor's parents and grandparents were estranged from the rest of the island, her father had enough influence that he was able to convince the police force to forego an investigation. They agreed to let her father search the area with one officer with him, and to have those findings considered official. Supposedly, they didn't find any sign of Eleanor, and that was it.”

  Emma looks stunned.

  "I can't believe I never heard any of this before. How could that be possible? I know what color ribbons were in the petticoat of the wife of the founder of Magnolia Falls the day of the dedication. Yellow, by the way, in case you were wondering. But somehow this doesn't make its way down the line? "

  "I think it has to do with the way the older generations still think about that time. It was so hard on everyone, and it's much easier to just romanticize and sugarcoat as much as possible. For a lot of them, and the people around them, it was disrespectful to spread a story like that about a man who went and served as bravely as he did. Even though they were likely glad that Kleinie left town, their way of showing respect was letting the story die. There was no point in talking about a person who wasn't around anymore."

  Emma squirms uncomfortably. The cookie she picked up only has one bite taken out of it.

  "I really hate to think that anyone from Magnolia Falls could be like that," she says.

  "There are less than fantastic people everywhere, Emma. But fortunately, times have changed. Things like that don't happen here anymore."

  "But that doesn't mean we should forget they did."

  "You're right," I say. "Which is why this prom isn't just for Mr. Bernheimer anymore."

  "You're going to invite Mr. Kleinfelder?" Emma asks.

  I take another bite of my cookie.

  "I'm going to invite Eleanor."

  * * *

  Emma

  I couldn't have possibly heard Grant right. I wait for him to elaborate further, but he doesn't.

  "Eleanor?" I ask. "You're going to invite Eleanor?"

  "Yep," he says. "I told Mrs. Burke I was throwing this prom to honor the entire class, and everything they had gone through, and she's a part of that."

  "How are you going to do that? Nobody even knows what happened to Eleanor. No one has heard from her in decades."

  "No one has had the ability to really look for her, either. Until now. I have a lot of resources at my fingertips, Emma. If Eleanor is out there, waiting to be found, I'm going to find her. Don't you see? This is the answer to all the questions we had about Mr. Kleinfelder. All of his bucket list items, everything he wanted to do, leads back to Eleanor. I don't think he's ever really given up on her. I think he's carried Eleanor with him all this time, and never lost hope he would find out what happened to her. But now that he's gotten older, his chances are getting slimmer. That's why he wanted to officiate a wedding. He didn't get the opportunity to live his life with Eleanor, but he wanted to help another couple do what he couldn't."

  "But you know next to nothing about her," I say. "We didn't even know Mr. Kleinfelder had anything to do with Magnolia Falls until a few days ago. Even Mrs. Davidson had to have a clandestine meeting to tell you what she had heard from her grandfather. People aren't going to talk about it."

  "The people around here might not talk about it," Grant says. "But Mr. Kleinfelder might."

  "You're going to ask him about the darkest time in his life?”

  "Maybe he's ready to talk now," Grant says. "Maybe he's finally come to terms with it. I'm not going to tell him why I want to know. I'm just going to ask a few simple questions and let him tell me what he wants to. I'll take it from there."

  I can see the determination in Grant's eyes, and it makes my heart tremble. He was so selfish and arrogant when he first came back here, and suddenly, he's opened himself up to this man who he previously only knew as a client, but has become this attached to. It draws me to him even more, but the next thing he says pulls me back to reality.

  "I'll call him when I get back to the office."

  "Back to the office?"

  "Yeah," he says. "I have to get back to work the day after tomorrow. My schedule is completely packed, but I'll move stuff around to talk to him whenever he has the time."

  "That's what you said," I tell him.

  "When?" Grant asks.

  "On New Year's Eve," I tell him. "I just remembered that. When we were out at the bar, we talked about what was next for us, and you said you had to go back to work. It was just like the day you told me you were going back to school. You said you were going back to the office, and you hoped I had a good first week back at work."

  His face falls slightly, and I wonder if he's remembering the same moment. Suddenly, the mystery of what brought us to Jerry and the Tiny Pink Chapel of Love isn’t a mystery anymore. We'd found ourselves right back in the same moment from ten years ago, and instead of watching him pull away from me, I refused to let it happen. I'd told Grant nothing would happen between us until I said yes.

  Apparently, I said yes.

  "I'll be back at least every other weekend," he says. "And we'll be in touch all the time."

  I smile and shake my head.

  "It's fine," I say. "You have to work. You've taken a lot of time away from the office as it is. I'm sure your clients are getting impatient. I just want to make sure we don't lose steam with the prom planning. I know it seems like it's far away, but it's actually going to get here faster than you think."

  "I know," Grant says. "We'll get it done. I trust you."

  I nod, placing my leftover cookie back on the plate.

  "I'm going to go dig through the living room and try to find my lesson plans. I need to get them finalized before the first day back."

  I can feel Grant's eyes on me as I get out of bed and walk out of the room. I suddenly feel breathless, and my eyes sting with unshed tears. I don't want to think about the emotions coursing through me. Maybe if I don't acknowledge them, they'll go away.

  * * *

  Two weeks later…

  I'm thankful for how busy the first two weeks back at school are. It helps distract me from how much I miss Grant. I don't want to miss him. I want to think my new life here in Magnolia Falls is fine without him. I came here, believing it was my opportunity to push the reset button and reclaim my life for myself, and not have to worry about anybody else. In the back of my mind I know that isn’t what happened. Not at all. Grant’s on my mind when I open my eyes every morning. As I gradually make my way through my belongings, and try to fit them in the house, I can't help but think of how our lives are meshed together. Sometimes, I look at the empty walls and envision pictures of us framed and hanging there for guests to look at.

  When those unwanted thoughts go through my mind, I try to distract myself with something else. The snap of winter is still in the air, and will be for several more weeks, but I can feel the eager restlessness of spring all around me. Just like I told Grant, the prom seems far away, but I know we can't lose speed if we want everything done on time. It’s time to finalize everything and get the details into place. Keeping the secret has become harder and harder as time passes. Every vendor we contact we have to swear to secrecy, and every time I'm talking to other teachers about the end of the year, I find myself spitting out some complex lie to stop myself before revealing the surprise.

  Mrs. Burke says we will get the other teachers involved a few weeks before the event itself, but for now, she’d like it all to remain a mystery. She's resisted talking to us much about our plans, and even waves me away when I try to get her opinion. She always says that she knows we’ll make this event something for everyone to cherish and remember for years to come. She wants it to be as much
a surprise for her as it is for Mr. Bernheimer and the rest of his class.

  No pressure.

  With rehearsals for the spring musical looming, and seniors coming to me in hysterics because they don't feel ready for their auditions, I sometimes feel like I don't have a chance to breathe during the day. No matter how busy I am, I can't help but wonder what Grant is doing. He has plans he hasn't told me about, and every time I ask him if he's making any progress, he tells me he's working on it. I try not to feel shut out, but the longer he's back at the office, the bigger the gap between us feels.

  Tonight, I'm so tired from a particularly emotionally-charged day I almost don't notice the car parked in the driveway when I pull up in front of the house. Much of that is probably because, for the fourth time in the last week, I pulled up in front of my old house without thinking. At least this time I realized it before I got to the porch and started yelling at the doorknob because my key doesn't fit. As I realize my mistake and make my way to the other house, I see his black car, and my heart leaps.

  Grant's home.

  He greets me in the living room as soon as I step through the door, and the combination of seeing him and finally being able to take off my shoes elicits a sigh from my lips.

  "Long day?" he asks.

  "Long couple of weeks," I answer.

  Even as I say it, I don't know if it’s because of how busy I've been, or because I haven't seen him. I decide not to elaborate any further.

  "Well, then why don't you go change into something less school-like, and I'll have dinner waiting for you."

  "Dinner?"

  "Don't worry, I didn't try the pressure cooker again. I picked up Thai on the way into town. I'll warm it back up."

  Another sigh.

  "That sounds amazing."

  I drop my bag in the now far less-cluttered living room and make my way into the bedroom, where sweatpants await.

 

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