1929 Book 3 - 1930 Aryl's Divide

by ML Gardner

  She smiled. “That’s so sweet.” He had a way of doing things for her that, while not grand or gushingly romantic, told her he thought about her, and cared. And right now, while her heart had started to mend but wasn’t entirely whole, she accepted it as enough. She scanned the room and tried to see it. Changing by the closet, getting into bed with him, waking up next to him. She sighed, unable. Perhaps separating herself from the home she’d shared with Aryl, much in the way that Gordon had separated the bedroom from the one he shared with Marjorie, would help. Even if she couldn’t see it right now, it was happening. One month from now, she would be his wife.

  He put his hand on the small of her back, leading her out of the room.

  He talked a lot as he made their lunch, and as they sat across from each other at the table. She got the impression that he was a little nervous and found it endearing. Music floated in from the next room and filled the empty spaces. The space wasn’t so much between them, but in the hollow room around them.

  “Arianna offered to have the wedding at her place,” Claire said, ending his disconnected rambling.

  “That’s nice.” He studied his plate for a moment. “I thought you wanted to have it in a church?”

  “Well.” She bit her lip, appearing deep in thought.

  “Be honest with me, Claire.”

  “I just…I feel like church weddings are for the first time, you know?” She covered her face with her hand. “I know that sounds horrible.”

  “No, that’s okay if that’s how you feel. We can do it at Arianna’s. That’s fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. We should do something different. Our own thing.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m sorry I can’t take you on a proper honeymoon.”

  “That’s okay. I couldn’t bear to leave Jac for long anyway.”

  “Well, we’d take him with us,” Gordon said, smiling. “I wouldn’t expect you to leave him here.”

  She laughed. “Then it wouldn’t be much of a honeymoon, would it. He’s up at least twice a night.”

  “We’d make it work,” he said and his smile faded. “I wish I could take you.”

  “It’s alright. Really. Our honeymoon will be settling in to real life here.”

  “You can change whatever you want. If you don’t like the curtains or the doilies, feel free to change them. I want you to feel like it’s your home now.”

  She glanced around the kitchen. It didn’t feel like hers. The style wasn’t hers and she tried to envision making small changes to make it so.

  After finishing her lunch, Gordon took her plate. “Did you want to go into town? Go for a drive maybe?”

  She did, but she knew that her time would be better spent here, getting used to the place. She told him no and began to wander from room to room while he followed her quietly.

  “Talk to me. Please?” he asked softly. “What’s on your mind?”

  He didn’t flinch or become insecure when she talked of her past, or her hesitation with the future. Still, she felt guilty saying the words.

  “I just can’t see myself living here.” She turned to face him. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful and I’m not backing out. I’m trying to see it. Really, I am. But, I walk around here and I can’t picture Jac playing on the carpet in the living room. I can’t imagine cooking your breakfast in that kitchen. I want to see myself bathing in that long bathtub, but I can’t.”

  She appeared helpless in explaining further.

  “Look,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders. “I don’t expect you to see it. I’m having a hard time with it myself, actually.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes. That’s why I had to change the rooms up. The only woman to ever walk around this house was my wife and trying to pry her memories out and insert you into the picture is hard to see right now. But that doesn’t mean that it won’t happen. We’ll make our own memories and start to see ourselves here, together, with time.” As usual, Gordon calmed her nerves. She wished she could feel more for him. Beyond gratitude for his kind words. Beyond caring for him and though there was the smallest seed of love based on that gratitude and caring, it paled in comparison to the intense love affair she’d had with Aryl. That sense of belonging together that went all the way to her soul. Not just wanting but needing to be as close as possible to him, and the feeling that it still wasn’t close enough. Having felt that, been a part of something that special was something she could never forget. No matter how much time went by.

  The familiar ache was back and she fought her tears.

  Gordon kissed her, trying to pull her back to this moment but it didn’t last long. He watched her, wanting to help, holding her close. She looked apologetic but no longer struggled against the tears that brimmed to the edge. She closed her eyes. Having tapped into that deep well of emotion, wishing with all her might that she could have that again but knowing it impossible, she folded and did something she swore she would never do.

  She summoned Aryl from the depths of her heart and with a deep breath, the room spun around her, and he appeared.

  The tears spilled over and rolled down her cheeks as she opened her eyes. He stood before her more beautiful than the last time she saw him. His smile made her heart stop. His messy brown curls were everywhere and her hands disappeared in them, remembering the feel of it. Drawing her hands down she felt his face, running her fingers over his lips; they kissed her fingertips gently. She touched his throat, and down further, placing her hand over his heart. It beat strong and steady beneath his shirt. She could smell him; that distinct yet indescribable scent that she knew so well. He held her close, kissing her cheek, ear and neck. She knew it was a mistake but she couldn’t stop herself. For these precious moments she would allow herself to hold him here with her, to not let the vision fade.

  The way he looked at her made her catch her breath as he told her he loved her. And, as she slipped her dress off her shoulders, she had the overwhelming feeling that she couldn’t get close enough to him. This one time she would allow herself to feel him again. And then she would say goodbye.

  April 25th 1931

  “Pink or white?”

  Claire jolted from a distant place.

  “What?”

  “Do you want to carry pink or white flowers?” Arianna asked.

  “Pink, I think.”

  Flash A thick cluster of white roses…the tips dipped in silver glitter…long tresses of silver ribbon swaying as she walked.

  “And you’re wearing Maura’s dress, right?”

  Flash Heavy satin, so smooth against her skin…trimmed in lace and pearls…a wide, full skirt with a train three yards long.

  “Yes, she said I could use it.”

  “It’s white?”

  “Cream, actually. It’s a simple thing. It’ll be perfect.”

  “Okay.” Arianna checked a few things off her list and scribbled a few notes.

  “And I gave him back the ring so he can put it on during the ceremony,” Claire said, glancing down at her naked hand.

  Flash A diamond encrusted band of white gold, a delicate inscription inside.

  Claire smiled at her. “Thank you for doing this. If it were left to me, we’d just go to the courthouse.”

  Flash A cathedral with stained glass windows. So large a single breath echoed. Brilliant, blinding light streaming from high above as she walked down the aisle.

  Arianna made a face. “Not while I’m alive.” She went back to her notes. “Besides, I love this. Now, for the reception I thought we would keep it simple. Since it’s a sunset wedding, we can assume people have already eaten dinner. We can just provide light refreshments and the…” Her mouth dropped open. “The cake. How did I miss that?! You need a cake!” She scoured her notes.

  Flash Four elegant tiers with a white and silver topper, his hand over hers, holding the knife.

  “I can make it. If you’d like,” Tarin said from the doorway. B
oth women smiled.

  “Tarin, you would be a lifesaver. Thank you.” Arianna scribbled in her notepad.

  “What do ye have in mind, Claire? I’m fair good at decoratin’.”

  Tarin lacked her usual energy, though she didn’t look tired. Normally bright and chipper, she seemed flat as she stood waiting for Claire’s direction.

  “Um, I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it. I’m sure whatever you come up with will be wonderful.”

  “Alright then,” she said and turned to leave.

  “What’s with her?” Claire asked Arianna.

  “Just wanted to help, thankfully. I’m not sure what I would have done.”

  “No, not that. She seems so down.”

  Arianna gave a shrug without looking at her. “Now, who’s performing the service?”

  Claire’s turn to shrug. Arianna’s hand fell, hitting the paper with a smack.

  “Don’t tell me you haven’t arranged for someone.”

  “No, I’ve been busy.”

  “What about the pastor of the Pigeon Cove Chapel?”

  Flash A tall man, standing on the beach, giving Aryl’s eulogy…

  “No.”

  “Why not?” As soon as she said it she felt stupid. “I’m sorry. We’ll find someone else. In fact, I’ll take care of it. You just show up and look pretty.”

  “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  “Speaking of showing up, don’t you think you should stay the last night at my house? That way you just have to wake up and get ready.”

  “I suppose,” she said, indifferent.

  “And, what about a honeymoon? Do I need to arrange anyone to take you to the train station?”

  Flash Newlywed suite on a luxury cruise liner, full moonlight streaming in the windows, the scent of lavender…

  Claire’s face turned hard. “You’re thinking of our old life,” she accused Arianna.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, her eyes owlish and confused.

  “We don’t have the money for a honeymoon, Arianna. We’re just going back to his house. No frills, no fuss. We’re just going to start our life.”

  “At least tell me he’s going to make you breakfast the next morning,” she said with a twist of her lips.

  Claire smiled. “Probably.”

  “Look, normally I wouldn’t ask…okay, I would, but I’m not just being Arianna here, I’m being your friend. I need to know you’re going to be okay. You know. With the wedding night.”

  Claire blushed fiercely, shaking her head. “Arianna, I swear.”

  “No, I’m not just being dirty, honest.” She held up her right hand. “Have you thought about how hard it might be to be with someone else? Don’t you think that’s when the memories will be the strongest?”

  Claire studied her hands, folded in her lap. “Yes, I’ve thought about it.”

  “And you’ll be okay?”

  “I already have been.” She faced Arianna.

  “Oh, you…really?”

  “Yes. Oh, don’t look at me like that. You don’t understand.”

  “Then explain it to me.” She scooted to the edge of her seat.

  “I did it to…to say goodbye. So that after we’re married, I knew it would only be Gordon I saw. It worked.” She fought tears and for the moment, was winning. “I said goodbye to Aryl and I haven’t seen his face in my mind since that night.” She looked away and Arianna couldn’t tell if she were happy or sad about that.

  May 1st 1931

  “It’s the nice thing to do,” Jonathan reminded him.

  Caleb scoffed. “He’s not the party type, Jon. You saw him at the Valentine’s dance. Gordon looked like he wanted to crawl out of his skin the way we were.”

  “This isn’t a party. Not like the kind we’re used to. It’s a small guy’s night—a pathetic excuse for a bachelor party—just drinks and cards, but he’ll appreciate it. We should do this for him. Help him feel welcome and all that. Besides, it’s too late now.” He glanced at his watch. “He’ll be here in twenty minutes.”

  Caleb slogged across the kitchen and pulled out a bottle from under the counter.

  “Where’d you get that?” Jonathan asked.

  “When I stopped grief drinking I stashed some away. Figured we’d need it for something or other, eventually.”

  “Way to have will power, buddy. And way to plan ahead.”

  Caleb wasn’t willing to accept a compliment for a lie. He brushed it off with a grunt, digging through a drawer for the playing cards.

  ∞∞∞

  Gordon showed up in his uniform. All white with a black tie. Even wore his little hat. He looked too formal and Jonathan had the amusing thought that he and Caleb should make it their mission to loosen this guy up a bit.

  The twins were fussy and Arianna doted like it was ladies tea time, so they moved to the barn.

  A rickety old table with hay bales for seats served as the central spot for the bachelor party. Caleb had finished the collages, and hung them above the desk.

  “Why do you keep these out here?” Gordon asked.

  “I don’t want to look at them all the time. Just sometimes,” Caleb said.

  Gordon studied them, seeking out the ones with Claire. In all the pictures of her, Aryl stood close by. He was taller than her, and handsome. He had a look in his eyes that hinted of a mischievous spirit. In every photo he was touching her. Always with his arm around her, holding her hand or clutching her close. And they all looked so damned happy. There was radiance with in those pictures where they all stood together. One that wasn’t there when it was just the women, just the men, or half the group. There was something about all of them being together, and though Gordon couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was—why it was—he marveled at it. He wished he had ever, could ever be a part of something that special. He turned toward Caleb and Jonathan. Perhaps that’s what this night was all about. Trying to place him in the group. He wasn’t excited about the prospect. Throwing a last glance at the pictures, he knew those were shoes he could never fill.

  May 2nd 1931

  Claire sat at the small vanity table, her long gown gathering in soft piles of cream-colored satin at her feet. She stared at her reflection for a long time. She didn’t recognize the bride staring back at her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This is normal, she reminded herself. Maura told me this is normal. The feeling of betrayal was bone deep.

  “He's gone,” she repeated softly, as she had hundreds of times since Gordon's proposal. “And he would want you to be happy.” Her eyes misted at the thought of Aryl.

  “You'll ruin your makeup, Miss Claire,” Maura said softly from the doorway. Claire nodded quickly with tightly closed eyes, willing the tears and the memories away.

  “I know. I'm sorry.” She dabbed at the corners of her eyes carefully, trying not to disturb the makeup Arianna had carefully applied that morning. Claire normally wore little makeup. She needn’t bother with a sweet round face and envious ivory complexion, smooth as porcelain.

  “Don’t be sorry, love,” Maura said as she stood behind her, arranging bits and pieces of blonde hair and sprigs of baby's breath that threatened to fall.

  “It's normal,” they both said in unison, and laughed.

  “I'm awfully proud of ye, Miss Claire. You've come a long way, so ye have.”

  “Thanks to you.” Claire met her eyes in the mirror and held them there for a long moment. Maura broke the stare and turned away before her own eyes misted.

  “I do believe your family is a wee bit upset with me,” Maura mentioned casually, with a hint of amusement in her voice. She went about tidying the room, which had been left a fair mess after the flurry of activity as the bridal party prepared for the ceremony.

  “Why is that?” Claire asked, hardly surprised. Since Maura had moved to Rockport, there had been no shortage of ruffled feathers and stirred emotions. However, Claire knew there was always a good reason for it.

  “I to
ld 'em they couldn’t see ye ‘fore the wedding.”

  “Ah.” Claire smiled at her thoughtfulness. “I would have been okay, you know.”

  “Well, I'm not takin' the chance, Miss Claire. I'll not have one of them mention anythin' that might make you upset on yer weddin' day.” She puffed up protectively, like a mother hen.

  Claire smiled again. She could hardly believe sometimes that Maura was only a few years older than herself, but wise beyond her years. She had the wisdom to counsel the brokenhearted, instinct to know when she was needed, and somehow, always knew what to say. Those deep green eyes could see deep into a soul. If you were lost, and Maura's eyes found you, it wouldn't be long before you found yourself. She'd see to it, with a hard love people came to depend on. Claire smiled as she thought of the other side of Maura, too. The one that could, and eagerly would, rein hell down upon anyone that threatened those she loved.

  It was a bittersweet day.

  Claire moved slowly to the window and pulled back the curtain. The softest of breezes pulled earthy smells from the garden and an odd assortment of food for a small reception, set out on long tables. The side yard of Caleb and Arianna's farm was decorated modestly, though Claire was amazed at how Arianna had transformed it into a lovely and romantic spot, with a small arch covered in wildflowers where she would soon stand, and begin a new life.

  She turned as Jac stirred in his cradle, with the soft coos and grunts a little one makes as they wake from a long doze. She watched as Maura quickly moved and scooped the baby up, murmuring loving sayings in Gaelic. Claire stepped toward them, but Maura held up a hand.

  “No, I've got him, now. The last thing ye want is to have him spit up on yer dress.” She smiled.

  Claire ran her hands over the lovely silk of the cream-colored dress. “Thank you for letting me borrow it.”

  “It's no trouble.” She bounced Jac on her shoulder lightly, his brown curls moved airily. “You remember what I said now?” she asked.

  “I do.” Claire nodded, pausing until the lump in her throat subsided. “Leave the past behind, except to tell Jac of his father.” She paused again and cleared her throat. “And don’t compare.”