An Ever Fixéd Mark (24 page)

“You will always love him,” Nora shrugged.
“It doesn’t mean you always have to go back to him. You need to get
over your fantasies of destiny and past lives, Meghan. If he brings
you harm and is this destructive against your feelings, you should
not be with him. I can’t imagine any law of fate mandating that you
have to be with a bastard who hurts you. Otherwise you cut yourself
off from any other fate of happiness or living.”

Meg looked at Nora and smiled in spite of
her tears. “How did you get to be so wise?”

“It isn’t wisdom to tell your friend she
doesn’t have to be in a relationship with a jerk,” Nora rolled her
eyes.

“Well Lizzie found Ben after her Will
fiasco,” Meg sighed.

“There’s hope for us all,” Lizzie made
herself laugh, deciding that every one of her worries about Ben
wasn’t important when he so plainly cared about her, in a way Alec
McCaffrey couldn’t care for anyone.

“Too bad Ben doesn’t have a brother,” Meg
smiled in Lizzie’s direction.

“He does. He’s married,” Lizzie thought of
Ben’s absent minded comparison of Meg to Oliver.

“Too bad,” Meg picked up a wine glass.

“Does this mean you are going to leave him?”
Nora asked.

“I think I already did,” Meg looked
down.

“What about your thesis?” Nora was brave
enough to ask the questions Lizzie was afraid to articulate.

“It was a load of crap,” Meg rolled her
eyes. “No, really, it was. I think I’m done with vampires for
now.”

Lizzie straightened her collar, making sure
the inside of her left neck wasn’t exposed. She wasn’t eager to
argue the legitimacy of Meg’s theories or encourage her to pursue
the subject any further. She remembered Alec’s comment about her
not being able to deal with the reality. Maybe it would be best if
Meg let the thesis and Alec McCaffrey go.

“So what does Mr. Wonderful have planned for
your birthday?’ Meg picked up the pile of photographs again and
handed one to Lizzie.

Lizzie looked at the picture of Nora and her
sister. “I don’t know,” Lizzie shook her head with an attempt at
cool. “Probably something simple. Birthdays aren’t a big deal to
him.” She didn’t really know that. She just decided it couldn’t be
a big deal to him. It wasn’t important when everything else about
him was incredibly wonderful.

Meg looked briefly at Nora and bit her lip.
“He’s probably got something up his sleeve,” Nora laughed.

“Maybe,” Lizzie looked at the next picture
of her standing with Ben. He was happy at her side. More
importantly, she was happy. She didn’t have to make any effort to
smile for that photo. That was all she needed to know.

Chapter
Seventeen

Lizzie wrapped her fingers around the coffee
mug. The AC in Ben’s office was too cold. She logged in and took a
sip of her drink as the desktop finished loading. The quiet of his
office was unsettling. Even as the room was familiar to her, it was
still strange to be in his chair, in front of his desk on a Sunday
morning when he wasn’t in the next room.

She clicked on the server and logged into
her newsfeed. Jack posted the notice about his fundraiser. Nora
tagged her in several wedding pictures, most of which Lizzie saw in
Nora’s living room a week ago. She smiled at the one she liked so
much of her and Ben. She contemplated making it her profile picture
when a red flag popped up on the screen.

Lizzie clicked her mouse again saw a friend
request from Oliver Cottingham. Lizzie felt her spine straighten
and turn cold. She didn’t know if it was another burst of AC or the
fact she read that name while sitting in Ben’s office. She clicked
the name and was allowed access to his page. She saw a different
photo than the one she studied months ago. He was well dressed and
young and outdoors. But pale, not like someone who was in that warm
sun all the time. Further down the page, there were wall comments
from friends and colleagues. He was listed as professor of
environmental studies. Married. Nothing indicating his secret.
Nothing indicating he was Benjamin’s brother. Lizzie hastily
accepted the request and felt her nerves tingle. Ben would see
that. He didn’t always go on Facebook, but Nora just tagged him in
several photos. He would be isolated in his hotel in Chicago. He
might go on to send her a message, knowing her love for
skulking.

Lizzie looked away from the screen, as if
that made her less responsible for impulse. She looked about the
room, noticing details she ignored when Ben was there. She admired
the antiquated books, certain she could identify Keats and
Voltaire. There was nothing but books on the shelves. No
tchotchkes. There were no photographs. There was a painting on the
wall opposite the desk. Something modern with red and black and not
really resembling any sort of image, just an impression of shadows
and color.

She saw the computer screen, and the picture
of Oliver. She hastily went to her page and deleted the detail that
Lizzie Watson is friends with Oliver Cottingham. Maybe Ben wouldn’t
see it. She didn’t know why it mattered so much, why the panic set
in so swiftly. Did she really think Ben capable of such wrath? Over
Facebook? She breathed out slowly and stared back at the strange
red and black painting. Ben had two and a half centuries of
perspective that made the trivialities of social network politics
pretty ridiculous.

Lizzie picked up her mug and drank, but the
AC made her coffee tepid. As she set it down, she noticed the desk
drawers on either side of her. Without thinking about talking
herself out of it, she opened them. The two larger drawers were
full of papers. Personal finance, tax files, investment folders.
She didn’t know what she was hoping to find, but nothing like that.
She opened the smaller drawer to her left and found pens, a
stapler, and other desk supplies. The smaller drawer on the right
had a small leather book. It was a neglected calendar. A newspaper
article fell out as she opened the pages. It was a clipping from a
local paper about her 10K. She saw her name listed next to her
time. Lizzie smiled with the memory of his appearance at the end of
the race and her apartment after. She placed the calendar with the
clipping inside it back in the drawer.

She brushed her hand against some disheveled
photos. Lizzie pulled out the pile, grinning over a handful of
images from their trip to Quechee. Most were of Lizzie, which made
sense if he was taking the pictures. Underneath were pictures of a
setting she recognized. Coldbrook. The pictures were older. She
didn’t know the house. Was that his house, the one he lived in with
Oliver? A big old farmhouse. She couldn’t remember what street he
lived on … but she recognized the center of town in another photo.
A parade or a fair or something. There was the library and the post
office. She thought she recognized some faces, but she usually
recognized most people or at least their relatives.

She carefully straightened the pile and
replaced them in the drawer. There wasn’t much else but some odd
scraps of paper and receipts. She closed the drawer and looked back
to another red flag on Facebook. She clicked the message indicating
Oliver left a comment on her wall. She clicked on the page and read
quickly. “Hi Lizzie! Looks like life has been good to you. Drop a
line if you ever make it out to Cali.”

Lizzie felt a lump in her throat. No mention
of Ben. He could easily have seen Nora’s pictures of them together.
He would know they were together. Would that make Ben angry? Did it
matter? Lizzie didn’t tell everyone she knew that she was with Ben.
But if they went on Facebook and saw the pictures of them together,
it really wouldn’t bother her that much…

She didn’t understand the acrimony between
them and decided it was best not to think about it. She let her
mind drift back to other unopened drawers in his apartment. Did any
of them have anything in them that would reveal… what did she think
she would find? Her eyes wandered through the doorway to the dining
room. There was a buffet full of drawers, but no need to keep
china. Lizzie left the desk and her coffee chilling under the
AC.

She went to the buffet and opened a drawer
where she found silverware. It was tarnished and untouched, but a
beautiful set that would make the Fulton House conservationists
drool. The cabinet opened to exquisite bone china. Dishes, bowls,
and even serving platters. She went to the furthest drawer and
found a pile of silk napkins. They were embroidered with purple
flowers. Lizzie lifted up the napkins and felt something scratch
her finger. She put her finger to her mouth and with her other hand
retrieved the frame buried in the material.

It was a black and white photograph of a
blond woman in Victorian dress. A dark, ruffled dress. The shape of
her corset was evident in her unexpressive pose. Her blond hair was
up but stylishly curled. She was very slender, almost too thin. Ben
said she didn’t eat. She looked as though the corset was the only
thing forcing her posture – as though without it she might collapse
into a formless mass. She looked sad and hid the honesty of her
eyes from the camera. It was just as she imagined Maria.

Lizzie took the photo to the brown leather
chair in the living room. She stared at the details. She was very
pretty. Fair. Her eyes were light – either blue or light gray green
like… like Ben’s. Sad. Lizzie could tell the determination to look
at the camera was a mask to something else. Maybe Lizzie decided
that because she knew what happened to Maria.

Lizzie shut her eyes. She was upset with
herself for making such harsh assessments. Why was Lizzie so bitter
towards Maria? That poor soul… Maria lived in a different time. It
couldn’t have been easy for her to love Ben. A vampire. A killer. A
man she couldn’t marry. A man who didn’t age. A man who wasn’t a
man…

Lizzie rested the photo on the arm of the
chair. Her gaze wandered out the window at the brilliant morning
sun. She let out a sigh, letting herself admit her own questions
that settled in her brain. She wasn’t going to be like Maria. She
wasn’t Maria. Maria didn’t run a half marathon. She looked too prim
and proper to appreciate the benefits of Ben’s youthful physique.
Lizzie knew Ben loved Maria. She saw it in his eyes when he spoke
of her. She saw it in the fact he kept her china, silver, and
linens in a dining room he didn’t use. She knew Ben was capable of
that emotion. She wondered if in her depression Maria ever did.

Lizzie heard her phone ring. In a panic, she
put the picture back in the drawer of the buffet… as if Ben was
calling he would see her looking at that picture. She arranged the
napkins hastily and got to her phone as the beep sounded to alert a
missed call. She held her breath and pressed the button to identify
the caller. She breathed out a sigh of relief at Meg’s name, glad
it wasn’t Ben.

Lizzie went back to the office and computer.
She moved the mouse to wake the screen saver. She clicked the
bottom of her Facebook home page and breathed relief when she
didn’t see Ben’s name online. Not that he would be online. He was
busy working. Of all things, he wouldn’t log onto Facebook.

She skipped back to the news feed and wasn’t
much interested in the changes since she left the computer fifteen
minutes before. There was nothing at all from Oliver. Nothing to
show whether she should fear him or fluff off her worries as
ridiculous. She felt slightly foolish about trying to hide her
contact with him. She went back to her wall and reread his friendly
message. It was friendly, but what would Ben say? What would Oliver
think if she deleted it? Did it matter? Honestly. She was two weeks
away from turning 34. She wasn’t in high school where she needed to
worry about what someone might or might not think. She shook the
idea out of her head and logged off of the computer.

*****

“I’m surprised you don’t have big plans for
tonight,” Paula smiled sheepishly over her pint.

“My friends are taking me out tomorrow,”
Lizzie rationalized the lie of omission she told Nora and Meg. She
didn’t want their pity or reproving glances. She furthered the
pretense by determining to spend the night at his empty apartment.
The idea of Maria’s objects still unnerved her so she delayed going
home by inviting Paula out for a pint. “Ben is back on Monday. So
I’ll be busy enough. Besides I had a fabulous birthday cake from
the Fulton House staff today. That is worth a million restaurant
dinners.”

“Andrew must appreciate your compliments,”
Paula set her glass down after deciding against another sip. “I’m
surprised he didn’t want to come out for drinks.”

“He and Davis had plans. But this is nice,”
Lizzie felt foolish with her lame compliment.

“It was a busy day. I’m glad I am not going
home to drink on my own.”

“I’m surprised YOU don’t have big plans
tonight.”

“It isn’t my birthday.”

“Things didn’t work out with Nicole, huh?”
Lizzie sipped from her beer.

“I think after we finished comparing notes
on our favorite historical periods, we didn’t have much to talk
about in the present,” Paula looked at Lizzie.

“
Well, I’m sure there is
someone more interesting about to come in your life.” Lizzie bit
her lip to stop from rolling her eyes at herself. She always hated
it when someone said that to her… after Will. She did end up with
Ben… who was unlike…

“My friend answered your Raleigh mill
questions,” Paula offered. “He sent a couple articles and scanned
some photos, too. Nothing too exciting. He didn’t find any pictures
of the owner you mentioned… Oliver. But he found a picture of his
brother. I guess he was part owner of the mill. He said there was
some speculation about Oliver’s involvement with the murder.
Apparently he had a thing for his pretty young mill workers.”