An Ever Fixéd Mark (42 page)

“Can you think of any other Fultons,
Lizzie?” Dr. Chiang brought her attention back to the table.

“Pardon?”

“Any other members of the family who will
come to the opening reception?” Richard finished the question.

“There is an aunt or something that lives in
Connecticut,” Lizzie was aware of Dr. Chiang’s stare. She was
always intimidated by those young eyes. Certainly Dr. Chiang knew
far more interesting people than Gerard Fulton. “She is pretty
old.”

“Do you think the museum would give us a
mailing list?”

“It wouldn’t hurt to ask,” Lizzie shrugged,
as the thought of Charlotte Fulton suddenly appearing at the
opening of the Fulton Cardiac Center amused her. Not that it would
happen. Charlotte was long since dead. It would be amusing if she
was there - a vampire helping cut a ribbon to a part of the
hospital concentrating on the pulmonary system.

The meeting faded into another tangent.
Richard, Dr. Chiang, and the marketing director were clearly
already on vacation. It seemed premature to be planning a reception
for the end of March when they still had the gala to get through in
February.

Lizzie managed to conceal a breath of relief
when the meeting broke up. She returned to her desk and saw the red
light indicating missed phone calls. “Have a good Thanksgiving,
Lizzie,” Dr. Chiang said kindly on her way out the door. Lizzie
watched her walk down the corridor and swallowed back her silent
envy. She wondered if Eric was still interning, if Dr. Chiang ever
knew about them. If that was the reason she paid any attention to
Richard’s admin.

She scrolled through the list of missed
calls. She saw Ben’s number twice. She went to her cell phone and
saw three missed calls from him and a voicemail. She quickly dialed
into voicemail and typed in her code.

“Elizabeth,” he began and paused, creating a
lump in Lizzie’s stomach. “I can’t leave the lab. It’s… it is very
important that I stay. I feel awful. I know how important tomorrow
is. I have a flight on Saturday. Pick me up after you leave the
museum and I will make this up to you. I promise. I’m sorry. I love
you.”

Lizzie shut her phone as the lump in her
stomach chilled her entire body. She didn’t call him back. She
didn’t want to talk to him. She didn’t want to tempt the ache of
disappointment by making her thoughts vocal. She simply texted she
would pick him up at the airport Saturday night. She didn’t wish
him a happy Thanksgiving.

*****

“It’s too bad Ben’s stuck in Chicago,
Lizzie,” Jen sat beside her.

“It sure is,” Lizzie stared at her beer
bottle.

“What is he going to do for dinner
tomorrow?” Jack took a handful of chips from the coffee table.

“Probably nothing,” Lizzie muttered.

“I would like to do nothing,” Jen laughed.
“It would be better than a house full of our relatives.”

“You like hosting,” Jack argued.

“That’s why you have chips and salsa
tonight. I’m not cooking anymore.”

“We invited Sara and her husband to come
tonight,” Jack shrugged. “Sara said she’s busy helping her
mother.”

“Probably,” Lizzie looked at the
conversation between Jack’s band mates. She was careful not to
focus on Mike, lest he would think she was trying to catch his eye.
“Jen, do you need any help with anything tonight? I’m happy to help
while I’m here.”

“Are you kidding? Sitting here and drinking
is the best thing we can do right now,” Jen smirked.

“Okay,” Lizzie sipped from her bottle.

“Hey, did you hear?” Jack took more chips.
“They think they found Melissa Benson’s body. Or what’s left of
it.”

“What?”

“You didn’t hear it?” Jen exclaimed. “It’s
all the local papers have been writing for a week.”

“I guess it didn’t make the Boston news,”
Lizzie wished she hadn’t spent all her idle time on Facebook.

“Yeah, some hikers from New York or New
Jersey were following the old springs last week. A woman in the
group found a bone. The cops came. They think they found her whole
body. They’re still doing DNA tests. But there was a Springs
Regional sweatshirt.”

“Where was it?”

“At the edge of the water,” Jack
interjected, as the conversation on the other side of the room went
quiet. “They think she fell in the creek closer to her house where
there is a significant drop. They say the currents carried her
quite a ways. There wasn’t as much rain this year, so the water
level dropped. That’s why they think the remains were found.”

“So they think it was an accident?”

“Either that or she jumped,” Mike
snickered.

“I don’t think that’s the case,” Jen shook
her head. “They say it was rainy the night she disappeared. It was
probably just a really unfortunate accident.”

“You remember my mom used to freak out when
we played in the woods? She always thought we would fall in that
brook,” Jack looked at Lizzie.

“That poor girl,” Lizzie let the tears form
in her eyes, thinking of Oliver’s story and how badly Melissa
wanted to become a vampire. How she felt rejected for not having
her blood taken. How stupid she was for trying to trick a
vampire.

“Now her parents know,” Jack pursed his
lips.

“They can’t hope anymore,” Jen sighed.

“Now they can move on,” Lizzie lowered her
eyes. Now she knew. Now she could move on.

*****

Lizzie looked at the clock. Donna would
return to the gift shop within fifteen minutes. They could close
the door and start counting out the register. It still gave her
four hours to idle about until she went to the airport. She agreed
to meet him outside of Terminal B at 9:15. Part of her still wanted
to tell him to get a cab and then go home to Jefferson Park. She
knew it wasn’t his fault he was delayed in Chicago. She knew that…
and yet… she didn’t feel it at all. She anticipated the honest
conversation, where she would come clean about Oliver and say she
was ready to leave Jefferson Park. She no longer had the energy to
tell him the truth, much less the desire to forgive him enough to
offer a commitment.

It wasn’t his fault. She kept repeating that
to herself throughout the past two days, when her relatives looked
across Jen and Jack’s dining room table. She knew they were
wondering if Lizzie really had a boyfriend, or if she was just
making it up. Or if they believed she had someone, he clearly
didn’t love her enough… to meet her family. He didn’t love her
enough to leave that stupid clinic in Chicago and all its prime
sources. If the clinic was open, what was there left for him to do?
Was he going to more exclusive receptions? Even though he told
Lizzie he wouldn’t have time to go. Or maybe he went and that was
why he had to stay in Chicago longer. And miss Thanksgiving.

The bell of the gift shop heightened her
irritation. She didn’t want to deal with a stubborn tourist trying
to get a visit after the last tour began. Or worse yet, it would be
some Christmas shopper who would linger too long over history
books.

“Hi Lizzie.”

She looked up and met Oliver’s dark eyes.
“What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call. But…” he breathed
out. “I promised you I would get together with you and Ben before I
went back to California.”

“Oh,” she looked down and then back up at
him. “Well, Ben is still in Chicago. I don’t think that’s going to
happen.”

“That’s too bad,” he looked uncomfortable
and then met Lizzie’s eyes. “So you haven’t… he wasn’t home for
Thanksgiving?”

Lizzie remembered she told Oliver her plan.
“I haven’t seen him for nine days.”

“I’m sorry,” he sobered his expression.

“I went home to Coldbrook anyway,” she
couldn’t tell if his expression was sympathy or hope. “You know
they found some bones in the state forest, by the old springs.”

“Did they?”

“Some hikers from New York… were you with
them?” she asked what was on the periphery of her brain since Jen
told her.

“I thought a lot about our conversation,
Lizzie,” he hesitated. “I didn’t know if we would find anything. I
convinced Rachel and some friends to go for a hike. They were able
to see things I wouldn’t let myself see.”

“The body?”

“Yes,” Oliver muttered as voices from
Donna’s tour started to echo down the corridor. “My friend Ian
knows a lot about water currents. We looked over two days.”

“And then you had Rachel call the
police?”

“Yes,” Oliver bit his lip as the voices
neared the gift shop. “I thought about… I wanted to give the family
some peace. I knew enough to find the answer.”

“How do I know that you didn’t just…” Lizzie
lowered her voice as Donna appeared. “put it there?”

Oliver looked up and smiled at the tour as
they entered the shop. Lizzie smiled at Donna. “Donna, this is
Oliver. This is Ben’s brother.”

“Ben’s brother?” Donna held out her hand. “I
actually haven’t met Ben… but I’ve been told he’s a good guy.”

“So have I,” Oliver glanced at Lizzie.

“Are you going to bring him through the
house?” Donna suggested. Apparently, she didn’t know Lizzie already
did that.

“Um,” Lizzie darted her eyes to Oliver. “I
think so. Is that okay?”

“I’ll take care of any sales and then lock
up the shop,” Donna agreed. “Do you mind closing the house as you
go through?”

“Not at all,” Lizzie left the desk and led
Oliver quickly down the hallway into the parlor. She closed the
door out of habit and looked at Oliver.

“I didn’t put the body there, Lizzie.”

“I know,” Lizzie turned to the window. “I
just… I needed to doubt you for a minute.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Lizzie faded and pulled the
shades. “I have to close the house as we go through.”

“So… we’re alone here?”

“Not yet. Donna is going to close the gift
shop and then… yes,” Lizzie nodded as she pulled the last window to
darkness. She crossed the space quickly and went into the dining
room.

“It’s odd the way they set it up. You can
tell no one eats in here.”

“Kind of like a dining room for vampires.
Plates that never get filled,” Lizzie pulled more shades.

“Lily and one of the other girls… I can’t
remember her name… used to finish the wine glasses as they cleared
dinner,” Oliver walked towards her.

“How was New York? When you weren’t taking
hiking trips in Coldbrook?” Lizzie abruptly went to the
kitchen.

“It was fun,” Oliver closed the door for
her.

Lizzie let out a breath. “Good,” she paused
at the fireplace and felt the draft coming down the chimney. “I
can’t imagine what this… It must be difficult to return to
this.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because this is where… Lily was the cause
of so much sadness for you. Your life as a human was brief… and yet
had so many consequences that…”

“Lizzie,” he touched her hand.

Lizzie stepped away from him. “What else do
you remember? Other than herbs and meat hanging?”

“Smells.”

Lizzie wanted to know more. She wanted to
know less. She walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She
went directly into the master bedroom. She pulled the shades and
noticed Oliver didn’t follow. She returned to the hall but didn’t
see Oliver. She went to the guest room where he was pulling the
second shade.

“I saw Donna walk down the street.”

Lizzie inhaled several slow deep breaths.
The dim light of the lamps cast shadows she never noticed before.
Oliver looked different… and more familiar in those shadows. She
was aware of his height and strong muscles from working in his
father’s shop… only, no, he was hiking and cycling. He wasn’t a
wheelwright any longer. Lizzie looked away from him and darted her
eyes about the room.

”We should… I need to finish closing the
house,” she caught her breath but couldn’t move.

“Lizzie, I keep thinking about you. About
our conversations,” he paused and lifted his eyes, daring her to
meet them. She tried to focus on the worn carpet but felt compelled
to glance at his dark pupils. “About that moment in the train
station.”

“That was wrong,” she swallowed air.

“Was it?”

“Yes,” she took a weak step backwards. “I
love Ben.”

“This isn’t about Ben,” he took more
deliberate steps forward. “It’s about you and me.”

“Oliver,” she wanted to cry. She thought of
the eager kisses behind the carriage house. His lips were at hers
again, making that flash of dream a reality. She lifted her arms to
push him away but wilted as he opened her mouth and made the kiss
more intense than the last. Ben. Ben. Ben. She tried to think of
Ben, who no matter how much he hurt her didn’t deserve this. Oliver
moved his lips away from her mouth and across her cheek, down to
the nave of her neck. His hand reached for the waist of her skirt.
Lizzie jerked herself away and left the room.

She went back across the hall to Harriet’s
room. She pulled the curtains shut and in her agitation walked into
the dresser. She watched a bud vase wobble back and forth, fearing
it would land on the ground with a destructive crash. She breathed
out in relief and faced the doorway where Oliver stood watching
her.

Lizzie looked at the floor. “What’s so
special about that chair?” she tried to think of Gerard Fulton.

“That’s where you died.”

Sound and the focus of the floorboards at
her feet started to blur. She felt the blood drain from her head
and leave the strength of her knees. Oliver caught her and guided
her to the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Should I
get you some water?”

“Did it really happen here? In this room?”
Lizzie clutched his hand.

“Yes,” Oliver swallowed.

“How?”

“
I…” Oliver sat beside her
and looked at her hand in his own. “I was a fool, angry and
consumed with my own selfish rage. I didn’t want it to end the way
it did. I just wanted her to be with me.”