by Cat Gardiner
Will chuckled. “She always was, and don’t think you’re going to try to butter me up toward her by talking baseball. I’m madder than blazes at Lizzy and have no intention of letting her off so easily, no matter what she’s accomplished in her life.”
“Yeah well, if I were you, I’d get over it. Don’t spend too much time thinking about how you’re going to handle this ‘Annette’ issue or you’ll miss out on a good thing. The past is the past. You’ve got to look ahead, old man. I’ll see you in the morning for brunch at ten. We have someplace important to be at two. Wear a suit and don’t be late.”
He left Will standing in the middle of his suite nodding his head. It was as though only yesterday his brother had said, “Write the girl.” Smiling, he thought I’ll see her tomorrow.
~~*~~
Lizzy’s dinner with Henri, Marion, Annette, Jack, and Juliana was a complete gastronomic overindulgence, which lasted three hours followed by a walk along the Seine on the Rive Droite. Their return to the boutique hotel was after midnight, and although she was tired, the effects of jet lag hadn’t kicked in yet. Not to mention, she was too wound up knowing that she’d be seeing and, hopefully, talking to Will tomorrow. Her long-awaited reunion would be forthcoming, and she struggled to conceal her anxiety to her family. Apart from Louie, only Jack and Juliana knew what lie ahead, and even they all thought she and Will were merely wartime sweethearts, separated for some unknown reason.
Further, her forty-year quest was about to end with the return of the ill-gotten Monet and Degas masterpieces to their rightful families. Furthermore, her personal commitment to locate and reinstate the Henry Avercamp was also about to come to fruition once she placed it into Louie’s hands—with Will as witness to a small restoration of the DeVries/Martel legacy.
Chattering and laughing, the Robertsen family entered the empty lobby where only a solitary night clerk manned the front desk. Lizzy momentarily reflected how Louie and his lady were missed at dinner but she knew her brother-in-law had his own reunion to attend tonight, and she wondered how it had gone between the estranged brothers.
Lizzy kissed Annette’s cheek. “Good night, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow at eight for a morning run along the river?”
“Yes. If you insist. I can’t believe I’m here … in Paris … with you, and I can’t believe we found the rightful families of the paintings.”
“It’s going to be a beautiful ceremony. I’m sure of it. It’s important that you’re here, not just for the paintings, but for a lot of reasons. Thank you for joining us last minute.”
Annette laughed. “Are you kidding? Where else would I be?—apart from the Social Security Office to change my name back to Robertsen? That bastard always promised to take me to Paris. Instead he took his twenty-five year old secretary. It seems fitting that I should visit after the divorce has been settled.” She kissed Lizzy’s cheek. “This is the best birthday gift you could have given me. I love you, Mom.”
Her mother cupped a hand upon her daughter’s cheek and jaw. “And I love you … more than you could ever know.”
“Thanks for letting me move back to Evermore. I promise I’ll get on my feet, find my own place once the dust settles, and look for a job.”
“Oh, sweetheart, stay as long as you like. It’s your home, and Lord knows I love your company.”
Still chattering, the family moved down the hall, stopping near the double-doored entrance of the cocktail lounge beside the elevator bank. They continued to say their good nights, kissing and making plans to meet for breakfast the next morning.
Will sat at the bar, nursing a brandy, only his profile visible to the noisy group. Feeling like a curmudgeon, he couldn’t help the disapproval he felt at the rude Americans who obviously had no regard for either the hour or the other patrons.
Someone must have made a joke.
A devilish, familiar peal of laughter hearkened toward him, as if soaring on Zephyr’s wings and piercing his soul.
His back stiffened as an anxious feeling overcame him. He was trapped, unable to leave the room. Unsure of whether to move or remain paralyzed in his seat, he hoped she hadn’t seen him. As the only patron in the lounge, he knew he stuck out like a sore thumb. Even the bartender had disappeared into the kitchen. Attempting to shield himself, Will swiveled on his stool, looked down at his drink, and prayed that Lizzy would get onto the lift.
Nondescript piano music played low from the overhead sound system, failing to soothe his sudden nerves as he attempted to draw a deep breath. Although curious to see the beauty that stole his heart as a young man, he wasn’t ready to see her. In truth, he was a little drunk—no, a lot drunk. Unexpectedly seeing Louie and clearing the air of forty years separation had left him raw. Fine French brandy was a most amenable friend tonight.
Everyone piled into the elevator with the exception of Lizzy. She stood ramrod, her attention diverted into the dimly lit lounge. Her heart stopped. The moment had arrived.
“Mom, are you coming up?” asked Henri.
“Um, no. You kids go ahead. I think I’ll have a nightcap.”
“I’ll stay with you,” said Jack.
“No, dear. You and Julie get a good night’s sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.” Her eyes drew back to the lone figure sitting at the bar. “I’d like to be alone tonight.” She smiled wistfully when the elevator doors closed on her family.
For a moment, Lizzy stood at the entry to the lounge with her heart, now shocked back to life, hammering violently. She smoothed her hair.
Across the distance, she admired the contour of Will’s fine physique. Even in the subdued lighting, she observed that he wore blue jeans and his strong expanse of broad shoulders were draped in an aqua polo shirt. The unfamiliar salt and pepper curls at his nape, brushing against his collar, as well as, the memorable angle of his jaw, which she had once kissed many times, captured her rapt attention. She felt both elated and dreadful, desperate to run to him while simultaneously fearful, wanting to bolt in the other direction.
Will didn’t see her approach or hear her tentative footsteps over the plush red carpet. However, he felt her energy as she drew nearer. In anticipation, his lips formed a tense line and his hand clutched tighter around the rounded glass goblet. He stared at the amber liquor within.
Lizzy’s delicate hand gently pressed upon his shoulder; the weight felt so comforting, as calming as coming home. He gazed up into the mirrored wall facing them. Between the colorful, half-filled bottles, their eyes locked in the reflection, and five long decades disappeared.
Lizzy was a vision, as exotic and captivating as he remembered. She was twenty again, and he, only twenty-one. Spellbound, he reveled in the sparkle of her green eyes and those familiar twisting plump, peachy lips when her breathy voice spoke the adored greeting he hadn’t heard since truly, a young man.
“Hi Ducky.”
Instinct propelled his hand to clasp hers upon his shoulder. Their two broken hearts sparked in a renewed connection; the fissure between them dissipated and began to meld into the one heart they shared.
He wanted to be mad, but his Pistol always had a way of rendering him illogical. Their eyes continued to envelop each other in wordless wonderment.
Will could see in the mirror how her lip trembled and then she bit it. That alone was nearly his undoing, and he closed his eyes, caught up in the softness of her fingers thread through with his. He fought the innate need to pull her into his arms.
It was too much to bear and just like that night in ’49, he thought it an intoxicating dream or a drunken delusion. His eyes snapped open, and he twisted her fingers in his. His face darkened, his brow furrowing, the set of his lips forming into an angry thin line.
Lizzy saw the immediate change in his countenance, how he transformed from anxiety to relief, then almost portrayed his joy at seeing her, but this last evolution was the emotion she had dreaded—animosity. It was palpable when he swiveled on his stool to finally face her, only to abruptly release he
r hand as though it was tainted.
“Mrs. Robertsen,” he said.
“I’m glad you came, Will. I knew you would. I knew you couldn’t keep away forever.” She resisted the urge to reach out to him again, to touch the errant lock of hair at his forehead. “You … you look well.”
“So do you. You haven’t changed at all.”
“I’m older. I hope wiser. Definitely tamer.” With a slight tremble, her hand defied resistance and she smoothed the wave. “I’ve never seen your hair so long. It becomes you.”
His pulse throbbed in his temples as the acrimonious words tumbled from his lips. “Why am I here?”
Lizzy looked around the empty room, her eyes settling on the front desk clerk through the open double doors. “I don’t think this is the time or place, but we have to talk. There are things that I need to tell you. Important things that you need to know.”
He rose to his full height, mere inches from her, towering over her in an attempt to intimidate as she gazed up with those captivating eyes of hers. They stood face to face for the first time in four decades. He looked down at her lovely chin raised in defiance. Many times before he had kissed that perfect chin, but he wouldn’t do so tonight. Roughly, his hand clasped over her bicep and barely containing his resentment he said, “Well then let’s go to my room to talk, shall we?”
“No ... no … not tonight. Not like this. You need a clear head for the things we need to address and you’ve been drinking.”
“Did you expect to find me sober, if you ever intended to find me at all? Besides you’re well-trained in dealing with drunks.”
“That was callous, Will.” She removed his hand from her arm.
She could feel his warm breath flowing down upon her. She could smell the brandy as if she had drunk it herself. It took everything in her power not to embrace him to calm the storm brewing within him, so clearly evident in his darkening eyes and set of his jaw.
“No, I’ll tell you what was callous, Lizzy. I was young and foolish to give you my trust and my heart. You dumped me when I needed you most, without even the courtesy of a letter. I wrote you for months and you never even replied. It was callous to let me worry about you in that house with that father of yours. What was callous was your marrying the very man you knew I was jealous of, as soon as I left for England. What was hatefully callous was your using me, years later, to satisfy a lonely housewife’s craving, leaving me only a tear-stained letter, as if you had really cared. Yet you never came back, never contacted me. Dammit, Lizzy, you never tried to find me!”
She choked on her regrets. “Is that why you left? Because you wanted me to follow you? To find you? Oh, G-d. Will, I couldn’t have done that.”
Her hand reached out to touch him, but he stepped away lest they had a repeat of their torrid one night affair. That was all it had taken that night—her simple touch. He had practiced ad infinitum what he needed to say to her at this reunion, and he would not be swayed from his course.
Lizzy begged, “Please, Will. If you’re insistent on discussing this tonight, then let’s go to your room and not have this conversation out here. Please, let’s discuss this rationally, soberly. I promise, I’ll tell you everything about what happened. I told you then, I had thought you were dead. It wasn’t my fault.”
“Then whose fault was it, huh? Was it mine? Did I deserve to be treated that way? You were nothing but a spoiled debutante who lied and betrayed me. You ruined me for every woman after you.”
He mumbled under his breath, abruptly moving away from her shocked expression. “What does it matter? It was fifty years ago. You can keep your secrets.”
“Secrets?”
Will snapped at her, his eyes flashed, boring into hers. “Yes, secrets!”
Lizzy broke from his intense condemnation. Her voice lowered with anger. “You’re drunk, and I refuse to air those secrets in the middle of a cocktail lounge. If you can sober up and want answers, then you will follow me to your room.” She pivoted to walk away.
“How do you know what room I’m in?”
Halting in her tracks, she turned back, facing him with eyes blazing with fire and passion. She placed an indignant hand upon her hip and retorted. “Because I arranged for it! You’re here as my guest. You’re here because after all these years, I’ve never stopped loving you. And you came because you have never stopped loving me! This is our time, Will, and I’m tired of life slipping away before we can be together as we were always meant to be. I’ve waited too damn long for this opportunity!”
Turning back on her heel, Lizzy stormed to the elevator, clutching her purse. She pressed the up button non-stop in her frustration, fighting the tears and praying that he would have the sense to follow her.
The doors slid open, and she stepped into the empty lift.
As they began to close, Will thrust his fisted hand through the narrow opening, jolting her and the doors back open. He casually walked in as though he didn’t have a care in the world and stood beside her, his arms folded across his chest.
“Fine, Mrs. Robertsen. We’ll discuss this in my room, but I assure you the outcome will be entirely different than it was the last time I was alone with you.”
“I have no doubt, William.”
“William?” He chuckled sardonically. “What happened to Ducky?”
“Ducky didn’t drink, and even if he did, he’d never talk to me like you just have. He was a gentleman.”
“Ducky learned to drink after the Pistol shot him down, crashing and burning behind enemy lines. Two years in a POW camp introduced me to all sorts of ungentlemanly things I never did before. You talk about being older and wiser, well … you’re not the only one.”
They stood side-by-side only inches apart listening to the ding of the elevator as it climbed to reach the upper floor suites. Will’s arms continued to posture defensively across his broad chest, and Lizzy stood straight, her arms, mimicking his in defiant obstinacy. The strain between them was palpable.
The elevator stopped on the third floor and the doors opened. Will and Lizzy further separated to make room for the bellman and his cart laden with dirty food trays from his midnight floor collection.
“Bonsoir,” he said, intruding between them into the thick tension.
“Good evening,” they replied simultaneously. Their eyes momentarily met one another’s, then quickly diverted forward to the closing doors. The awkward verbal silence and annoying elevator music increased their anxiety.
Again, the elevator lurched and the doors opened onto the fourth floor. The noisy cart rattled out of the lift as the bellman departed with an “Au revoir.”
Lizzy dropped her arms and began to clutch the purse draped over her shoulder, looking straight ahead at Will’s reflection in the gold-toned elevator doors as they closed. His face was set in stone, so similar to their very first meeting at Meercrest after she ran him off the road. Oh G-d, those muddy trousers. He was such a stick in the mud back then. He still is!
A giggle bubbled up from her lips, quickly turning to a small laugh that she tried to suppress with pursed lips, failing miserably until she burst. Folding her arms over her middle, she howled with raucous belly laughter.
“What’s so funny?” he stoically asked, further rankled that this meeting was not going as planned at all.
Lizzy didn’t answer, just continued to torment him with that addictive sound she emitted. He couldn’t help but to smirk at it. Damn! She wasn’t even trying to break him, yet she was doing just that. He knew she would be the death of him, so he put into place that impenetrable vacant expression honed as a guest of the Luftwaffe in Germany. He was mad—yes, mad, and this woman who lied to him was not going to break his reserve! He stood up to fucking Nazis, for Christ sake! But so, too, had she.
The elevator lurched for the last time on the top floor and the doors slid open. With determined footsteps, Lizzy led the way down the hall to his room. He lingered, holding back with languid steps behind her, refusing to all
ow her the upper hand even in his progress toward their confrontation. This would be on his terms, not hers! She’ll wait for me.
Lizzy could almost feel his burning stare at her derriere. He might have been older now but with a physique like his, she was sure that urge hadn’t died, but that could not be foremost on her mind.
She neared the room then finally his long legs brought him to stand right behind her.
Will’s arm reached around her waist to open the door, allowing her to enter before him so that he could once again inhale her fragrance, a scent he was unfamiliar with, but it beguiled him nonetheless. The latent wolf was becoming untamed from the brandy and her own intoxicant until he forced himself to focus on the source of his anger. He wanted answers about her daughter.
The stocked bar service in the sitting area caused Lizzy to walk across the room until she stood between Will and it, placing her purse on the glass top.
Noting her passive aggressive maneuver, a snicker escaped his lips and he instead went to the balcony, opening the doors. “It’s warm in here.”
“Is it? I think it’s rather chilly.”
“A drink will warm you then.”
“No thank you. You’ve had enough for both of us.”
Will sat down on the bed before her, his hungry eyes raking up her slender, fit form. Her long legs encased in sheer nylon vividly recalled the painted image on the PPL. He couldn’t help the softening of his demeanor with a tender compliment. “You really look great, Lizzy.”
“Thank you. I feel great. You look great, too.”
“Thanks. I try to keep fit.”
As quickly as they had reverted back to the Pistol and Ducky of affectionate admiration and innocent love, Lizzy’s anxiety re-emerged for the conversation that lie ahead.
She paced before him, wringing her hands, and he could see her struggle, the furrowing of her brow, her halting footsteps, then the resumption of her constrained repetitive path. Finally she said, “It didn’t happen the way you think it did. None of it. Not even my coming to you that rainy night.”