Aftermath

by Sandy Goldsworthy

  What? I answered. Emma’s not my girlfriend.

  Well, your knight-in-shining-armor act got her heart racing. Molly’s tone was sarcastic, though her words were flattering. Besides, you pompous ass, she was under the impression there was something between us other than friendship. Something I suggest you clear up.

  I ignored the rest of her thoughts and listened for Emma’s voice. It was the only one that mattered. I heard her say goodbye to Hannah before she emerged from the house with Claire.

  Emma looked as beautiful as Elizabeth did, with long, honey-brown hair. Her eyes were the exact same shade of blue I remembered and, as she climbed into the front seat beside me, they sparkled.

  Molly was right. I had to make things better.

  “Where to?” I asked after Claire climbed in the back of my Toyota Cruiser. My guard immediately lowered in Emma’s presence, like I was sixteen and it was 1931 again. Gone were the worries of Victor and Lucas.

  “Ben, can you drop me off first?” Claire said before Emma could answer. “I promised Aunt Marty I’d get up early and go with her to the farmer’s market in Riverside.”

  I almost laughed aloud. Did Molly put you up to this?

  No, not at all, Claire responded.

  “Yeah, sure,” I answered, noticing her smirk in the rearview mirror.

  A minute later, Claire said goodbye, and Emma and I were alone.

  “Nice house,” Emma commented as I backed out of the driveway.

  “Thanks. Well, it belongs to my aunt.”

  “Did Claire say her name was Marty?”

  “Yup. Marty McMann. She works for your aunt.” No sense in beating around the bush.

  “Oh.”

  “So which way?” I asked at the stop sign. I couldn’t acknowledge I knew where she lived too.

  “Sorry. Westport,” she answered, hesitating as I turned left, toward town. “I live near school. Just a couple blocks past it on the lake.”

  “By Lake Park?” Like I didn’t already know.

  “Um, yeah.”

  The route from my house to Emma’s was exactly 6.2 miles. I tracked it. Not that I ever used the two-lane county road to travel there. I used the portal that popped me into the old barn at the back end of her aunt’s property. The building Barb Carmichael converted to a garage and office.

  We continued for a few miles in silence. I didn’t want to overwhelm her with questions and look pushy. Instead, I focused on the road, keeping my speed within the published limit. I wasn’t worried about getting pulled over by a cop. I could easily compel my way out of a ticket. I just wanted to spend as much time with Emma as I could.

  “So how do you know who my aunt is?” Emma asked. Her heart rate was on the rise.

  “Everyone does.” It wasn’t a lie. Her aunt owned the number-one tourist spot in the area, if not in the state. She was smart, wealthy, and very connected.

  “Wait. Your aunt dog-sat Chester when we moved me here.” Her words ended in a whisper.

  It was a statement I didn’t feel needed confirmation. Her thoughts bounced from her dog to her aunt to the move from Highland Park. When her mind settled on memories of her dad’s funeral, I interrupted.

  “I saw you talking to TJ,” I said. A vision of Molly came to her mind as soon as I mentioned TJ’s name. She didn’t answer, but I didn’t give her much time either. “Molly couldn’t stop talking about their breakup. Actually, she kept watching the two of you.”

  “TJ was pretty upset.”

  “You guys know each other well?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.

  “Um, yeah. I guess. Lisa, um… his mom is best friends with my aunt. I knew him when I was little. You know… family parties and stuff.”

  I nodded.

  “He was surprised Molly broke up with him.”

  “We all were. I thought they were a perfect couple.” After a moment, I continued. “Molly’s my neighbor. She lives at the end of the cul-de-sac.”

  “Oh, yeah. Justin told me.”

  Interesting. I didn’t remember hearing that when I eavesdropped.

  “Molly was looking for Stephanie. You know, Lucas’ girlfriend?”

  She shook her head.

  “She was pretty drunk. Lucas took her home.”

  “Oh! I did hear that,” she answered. “I didn’t know Lucas had a girlfriend.”

  “Off and on, I guess.” She was silent. “Molly wanted a shoulder to cry on, and Steph wasn’t around.” I turned to look at her. Even in the yellow glow from the streetlights, I noticed her blush when our eyes met. “I got stuck with her instead.”

  Benjamin! Stuck with me? Molly’s thought interrupted.

  As we passed Lake Park, I pointed to the first house. Emma nodded.

  “Don’t get me wrong, Molly can be nice,” I continued, pulling into Emma’s driveway. “Most of the time, I’d say she’s high maintenance.” I chuckled as the words were spoken aloud, blocking Molly’s response.

  Emma smiled.

  That was all I needed to see.

  Chapter 48

  Emma's Story

  I rolled over, half-asleep, half-awake.

  An image of Ben came to mind. He had a casual smile on his face, like he did the night before when he said, “Goodnight, Emma.” The sound of his voice lingered in my thoughts, as I squeezed my eyes shut.

  I thanked him for the ride, smiled back, and left. He waited in the driveway until I was safe inside, door closed and locked. After I waved from the window, he slowly backed out.

  If it were a dream, I didn’t want it to end.

  I rolled over again and dozed off. When I woke up later, I realized it was almost eleven o’clock. I jumped out of bed and went downstairs. It was much later than normal and the first time I slept this well since Dad died.

  Aunt Barb sipped coffee and flipped through the newspaper sprawled out on the island. “Neal’s invited us to lunch,” she said when the doorbell rang.

  It was just lunch, I thought. I can do the piles of homework when we get back. Right?

  An hour later, the Carmichael Inn dining room host nervously sat us at a table near the entry. He tried seating us near the window for a better view, but Aunt Barb waved him off, telling him to save those tables for other guests. I could tell he was embarrassed by the gentle reprimand.

  The menu was as impressive as the formal table setting with its multiple glasses and extra spoons and forks. I felt oddly uncomfortable when the waiter called me Miss Bennett.

  It was a slow, drawn-out meal, which just delayed my plans to study. Not to mention, with Neal at the table, I had no chance of asking Aunt Barb anything I learned the night before. Neal was overly friendly and very attentive to my aunt. I hadn’t heard her laugh since Dad died, but even back then, she was never giddy like this.

  Great. An aunt with raging hormones.

  By the time our entrees arrived, it was obvious she was happy with Neal, and I guessed this lunch was her way of showing me that.

  “What’s on your agenda today?” Neal asked me as he cut into his lamb.

  “I have some homework, actually, and then I’ll probably go for a run at the track.”

  “I have an idea, Emma,” Aunt Barb said, checking her watch. “What if you and I do a little shopping first? I’d like a new pair of slacks for work, and I’m guessing you could use a new outfit. What do you say?”

  That was the aunt I knew. “Yeah, I’d like that,” I answered. I could always do homework tonight, right?

  “We used to shop a lot,” Aunt Barb told Neal. “We would come home with bags of stuff, and Brian would get so mad. We had fun, didn’t we?”

  “Yeah.” I remembered how we’d spend the day at the mall and how I’d model my new clothes when we got home. Dad would tell me I looked nice, but he would have said that even if I didn’t.

  “Remember when I came home with those bunny ears?” Aunt Barb asked.

  I laughed. It was the day we shopped for my first bra.

 
“Your dad thought I was crazy,” she said and took a drink of her iced tea. “I had a blast. But that lady in the dressing room at Nordstrom’s didn’t like us very much.”

  I hoped she wouldn’t tell Neal about it.

  I was wrong. Not only did she tell him about bra shopping, she went into details about it. Even though we laughed about it when it happened, it suddenly wasn’t funny.

  Neal quietly listened, laughing at the appropriate times, and smiling as Aunt Barb talked. He appeared to enjoy spending time with her, and I wondered if he thought I was an intrusion.

  “So Neal, I met Lucas,” I said after I finished my salmon.

  His smile turned flat, and Aunt Barb took a sip of her tea. Had I said something wrong?

  “You did?”

  “Yeah. I have him in two classes. US history and art.”

  There was a brief silence before he responded. “He’s had a hard life, Emma. Just like you. You have quite a bit in common, I’d say.” He glanced at my aunt, and then looked at me. “He lives with his mother in Riverside. I don’t get to see him as often as I’d like.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry,” I mumbled, not sure what else to say. What did he think we had in common? Both of Lucas’ parents were still living.

  “What if the four of us have dinner together sometime?” Aunt Barb suggested.

  “Um, yeah,” I replied.

  “We could have you over tonight,” my aunt continued. “Emma, we can shop this afternoon and be back in time to grill some steaks. What do you think, Neal? The Wisconsin game’s on at seven.”

  Wrinkles in the corner of his eyes appeared, as a smile crept up on his face.

  There went the idea of homework after dinner.

  “Okay,” Neal said. “But I’m grilling.” His grin was warm and flirtatious, and my aunt blushed in response.

  I didn’t understand his comment, but somehow, it didn’t matter.

  Chapter 49

  Ben's Story

  It felt like hours slipped, when only mere minutes passed.

  She was usually here and gone by now. I stretched and re-stretched my calves before I gave in and ran three miles on the asphalt track. It wasn’t my intention. I planned to casually bump into Emma, but she didn’t show.

  It was already after four o’clock. I twisted the pin on my vintage watch back and forth several times to wind it; something I’d done millions of times before. The old Hamilton kept time perfectly, despite a few scratches on the dial, some seventy years after I got it. It was a birthday gift from Elizabeth the year I turned twenty. We were married just over a year, with more nights apart than together. I flipped the watch over and read the engraving in block letters on the back. “Benjamin P. Holmes.”

  I was home on leave when Elizabeth gave it to me. It was two weeks before my birthday and days before I was scheduled to sail again.

  Elizabeth packed a picnic lunch for our afternoon at the lake.

  I rowed to my favorite fishing spot on Lake Bell, baited a hook, and dropped in a line. Elizabeth situated herself in the sun and pulled out a book to read—A Farewell to Arms. It was a clear, sunny, early September day. A slight breeze gently blew her hair, exposing her ivory neckline. Everything about her was inviting—the line of her chin, the shape of her lips, the color of her eyes. I studied her face every chance I got to keep her memory close while I was at sea.

  Her hair was longer than the last time I was home, cascading well past her shoulders. She wore it pinned back with the blue-jeweled barrette I brought her on my last trip home. It matched her eyes and sparkled as bright as her smile.

  Man, she was beautiful—prettier than the bent, scratched photo I carried in my wallet, more attractive than any movie star in any film I ever saw, and most importantly, she was mine.

  Even though the navy was my job, leaving her was hard.

  I watched her bright red lips move with the words she read to herself. She looked as delicate and innocent as the day we met. After several pages, she glanced up at me. Her cheeks were already pink.

  “Are you watching me?” Her freckled, sun-kissed nose wrinkled when she grinned. Her flirtatious look brought out urges in me that were only appropriate behind closed doors.

  “Why yes, Mrs. Holmes, I am.” I couldn’t stop looking at her.

  “Benjamin!” She giggled. “You’re making me blush.”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t help myself. I like watching you,” I confessed.

  Our eyes met and locked.

  “I miss you when you’re gone,” she said after an extended period of silence.

  As I leaned closer to Elizabeth, the boat rocked. I held the rim to balance myself as I kissed her lips, lingering longer than usual. They tasted sweet and salty as tears ran down her cheeks, meeting at our joined lips. “Ah, honey… I’ll miss you too,” I said, saddened by the spoken realization that my thirty-day leave was coming to an end.

  I glanced away briefly and sat back. I couldn’t bear to see her in pain, especially knowing I was the cause. The water was calm and peaceful. No one was swimming or fishing; kids were in school and the lake was quiet. We were completely alone. I looked back at her. She was watching me now, her tears gone.

  I changed the subject to a lighter one, pointing to the book in her lap. “Haven’t you read that book a hundred times?”

  “Not a hundred.” She smiled, her long lashes blinking slowly over those bright blue eyes that reminded me of the oceans I sailed.

  “No? How many times, then?” I asked. “Even I know the characters by name. Henry and Catherine, right?”

  “You’re not funny. It’s a fine story. Besides, I need something to read while you’re busy fishing.” She laughed, as she gently slapped my knee.

  “Okay, okay. I get it. The fish aren’t biting anyway,” I said, pulling in the lines I had dangling overboard. I rowed to the island and docked the boat on the beach. It was the opposite end of the lake from the inlet where we rented a flat next door to my parents.

  Elizabeth set up a blanket and picnic lunch for us, while I secured the boat to a nearby tree. The sun was lowering in the sky. It was after four o’clock, I guessed. I gathered some branches from the brush and built a small fire. The temperature was starting to drop, but it was still pleasant.

  Elizabeth pulled out leftover ham, some cheeses, and a loaf of fresh bread she made that morning. She thought of everything, including a thermos of coffee, a flask of whiskey, and a birthday cake she baked before I woke up.

  We ate and drank, talked and laughed. We reminisced about the first time we met, here on the island, and our first date when her father interrogated me. We talked about our future, how she would join me on base after this tour, and how we wanted children, lots of them. We dreamed of living on the lake when I retired, where our children and grandchildren would visit and play on the beach. We talked about growing old.

  Together.

  As the perfect day slowly came to an end, Elizabeth insisted on singing. Her soft, sweet, out-of-tune voice sang “Happy Birthday.” She laughed at herself, wrinkling her nose as she attempted the high notes. She squeezed my hand, as I held back laughter. The more I held back, the more out of tune she sang. She giggled when it was over, covering her face with her petite hands.

  “I’m lucky to have you,” I said, reaching for her hand, pulling it off her face. I wanted to see her, to keep her face fresh in mind for the weeks to come when we would be apart.

  “Oh, Benjamin!” She smiled, and then paused. “Wait, I almost forgot.” She reached into the wicker basket and pulled out a small box wrapped with a blue ribbon. “Happy Birthday!”

  Her enthusiasm was contagious.

  “Open it! I hope you like it.”

  She sat on her knees, bouncing side to side.

  “Open it!” she said again. I untied the ribbon and opened the hinged box. It was a handsome, black-and-gold watch.

  “Well?” she asked. “Do you like it? I thought you could use a watch. You’r
e always looking at the sun and guessing the time. Then you’d have a remembrance of me,” she said. “See, I had your name engraved on the back.” She pointed out.

  “I love it. Elizabeth, I love it. Thank you.” I reached for her. She was so beautiful. Cupping her chin in the palm of my hand, I leaned in to kiss her. Elizabeth wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me back.

  “I love you, Elizabeth,” I said, pulling away to look at her. “I’ll miss you,” I whispered.

  “Oh, Benjamin… I’ll miss you too.” Tears built up in the corner of her eyes.

  I scooped her into my arms, leaning her back on the green plaid blanket. Our lips met again. The fire crackled, and the sun began to set. It was time to row back to shore, before it grew dark. I knew that, but I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to leave. We made love by the fire, the day Danny was conceived.

  I spent years wishing I hadn’t joined the navy and left her, hoping and thinking she was alive, when she wasn’t. Now I felt like I had a second chance.

  Memories flooded my mind, as I stood in the school parking lot. When I eavesdropped on Emma’s thoughts this morning, she planned to have lunch with her aunt, followed by homework and a run. That meant she should have been here around three.

  For a brief second, I feared for her life, but as soon as I heard her voice, the thought dissipated. She was shopping with her aunt. A wave of relief swept over me. She was happy, content, and safe.

  For now.

  Chapter 50

  Emma's Story

  The fun aunt I remembered was back.

  We spent the afternoon together, just like old times. I told her about Claire and Hannah and about school and homework. I even told her about the party at Drew’s. Of course, I left out the drinking, and I downplayed my interest in Ben.

  It was a great day.

  When the doorbell rang, Aunt Barb asked me to get it. Chester beat me to the front door with sharp, piercing barks. Neal had a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. He greeted me with a hug and a kiss on my cheek before turning to Aunt Barb, who ran to the door when I opened it. I noticed their embrace before acknowledging Lucas.

  Chester welcomed Neal, but barked at Lucas until I scolded him and covered his muzzle with my hand. “Chester, stop!” I said firmly. He looked at me, dropped his tail between his legs, and sat down.