An Ever Fixéd Mark (28 page)

He looked at her as if expecting her to say
something. What? She felt more flustered and cried harder as her
inability to articulate a clear thought overwhelmed her. Did he
expect her to remember? Did he want her to forget? Why was he
giving her a book?

“I meant to give it to you yesterday,” he
pulled her into an embrace. “I wanted to take you out for brunch
and… Elizabeth…” he tightened his arms around her as she cried even
more.

“I don’t want to talk. I’m tired,” she said
when her eyes finally exhausted the tears.

He stepped back and smoothed away the short
strands of hair that stuck to her wet cheeks. She wouldn’t look at
his eyes. She knew there was something there. A challenge to make
her think, which she didn’t want to do. She shut her eyes and went
up the steps towards the door. She held the screen door open behind
her as he picked up the bags she left on the walk.

*****

Lizzie stared at her clock. She didn’t want
to move. She didn’t want to stay still. The comfort of her bed,
even in her un-air-conditioned room was impossible to leave. Ben
lay beside her. His arm rested casually over her side. He was cool.
He still hadn’t fed. She wondered if he was thinking about her or
her blood.

“
I’m sorry, Elizabeth,” he
sighed heavily.

“Ben, I…”

“I don’t know what I am supposed to tell
you. Death is as much a mystery to me as it is to you. I don’t know
if you are supposed to know these things… if I should tell you or
just let you lead your life.”

“Do you want me to know?” Lizzie kept
staring at the clock.

He stroked her hair tenderly. “I hoped you
would remember something.”

“To prove you were right about thinking I
was Lily?”

“I knew you were Lily at Springs,” Ben moved
his hand quickly as she shifted her position to look at him. She
sat up slowly and clutched a small pillow to herself. “You wrote a
story for an English project and described a parlor with the exact
detail of the Fulton House. Not like it is now, as a museum, but as
it was in 1817.”

“I did?”

“Do you really have odd sensations when you
walk through there?”

“Sometimes,” Lizzie looked
at the pillow and picked at a frayed string. The first time she
went through the Fulton House she thought it resembled all homes of
the early 19
^th
century. She figured she had seen pictures… not
that she was actually there before. She looked at Ben and softened
her eyes. “I went there today. But I didn’t… nothing came to
mind.”

“It isn’t important now.”

“Isn’t it? Isn’t there some reason I’ve gone
back there? That I was born in New England again and went to the
high school in the town where you wanted to settle with Maria and
brought Oliver to start over? Isn’t there some significance to all
of it?”

“Maybe… is it worth the worry to think about
it so much?”

“I want to understand. I don’t want to be
afraid.”

“You needn’t be afraid.”

“What about Oliver?”

“Oliver won’t hurt you.”

“But he…” Lizzie still couldn’t bring
herself to admit his contact on Facebook. “If I stay with you, he
will stay away?”

Ben sat up straight. She saw a look of hurt
in his eyes, although not completely comprehending her last
statement. “Do you want to leave, Lizzie?”

“I haven’t let myself think that,” she
looked back at the frayed string. “I don’t know how I could because
I love you more than I’ve ever let myself love anyone.”

She said it. Not the way she hoped. Not in a
happy or passionate moment. She was exhausted. She was confused.
She could barely control her actions, much less what she said. It
was a moment of clumsy truth. She was afraid to say anything else,
afraid it would make her too vulnerable and too exposed.

Ben took her hand away from the pillow. He
kissed the top of her fingers and turned it over, looking at the
gauze taped inside her palm. She saw him swallow hard and moved
herself towards him, moving her hand to take hold of his chin to
pull him into a kiss. She felt the breathlessness and let him push
her back against the bed. Lizzie moved her hands down to his belt
and then her jeans. She moved her lips away from his and leaned her
chin back to whisper in his ear. She kissed the outside of his ear
and lifted her arms to press him into the curve of her neck. “Take
my blood,” she felt his breath and waited for the cut of his teeth
as she writhed her hips against his.

He suddenly pulled back from her and lifted
himself on the strength of his arms. She saw the burning look she
yearned to satisfy, but with it was anger. Lizzie regained her
breath and disregarded the anger. She lifted herself back up to
meet his lips and moved her kiss down to his neck exposing her skin
to him again.

Ben pushed her suddenly down on the bed,
restraining her arms with a tight grasp above her elbows. The pain
inside her hand awakened as the anger overtook the hunger. “No,
Lizzie,” he said harshly. She tried to move herself up again but he
kept her down. “Don’t.”

“Ben,” she cried.

“It isn’t healthy,” he glared at her,
keeping her in his rigid grip. The sound of laughter came up the
stairwell and could be heard beyond the door. Lizzie heard Jackie
and Meg muffle their whispers, making their words unintelligible.
She heard their doors close separately, not letting her eyes leave
Ben. She tried to lift herself once more but he maintained his
force. She finally wilted in resignation.

Ben stepped back and readjusted his
clothing. “I should leave.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he took in a deep breath. “You
need rest. You’re anemic,” he explained. “It hasn’t been eight
weeks. And you bled quite a bit yesterday.”

“But what I just said… Ben… doesn’t that
mean anything to you?”

He looked at her, his eyes still seething.
“It means everything. And that is why your safety is more important
to me than it ever was.”

“Do you fear my safety?”

“I worry about your health, Lizzie. Get some
rest,” he kissed her gently on the top of her head. “I’ll go to the
clinic after work tomorrow. Then… we can finish this,” he attempted
a smile.

“Not if you go to the clinic.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Ben breathed out
slowly and quietly left her room. Lizzie shut her eyes and fell
against her bed, resuming her stare at the green numbers of her
clock.

Lizzie wasn’t sure when she fell asleep. She
watched the moon rise through the cracks in her blinds and knew at
some point she faded out of conscious. She felt as though she was
dreaming, but wasn’t sure how much of it was her unconscious or her
own speculation of all that had entered her mind. She saw Oliver
standing by the fireplace in the kitchen of the Fulton House. He
was wearing a bike shirt with an Adidas logo. She went through the
entirety of her tour trying to think of something, anything that
would prompt an idea or thought or memory of Lily. She thought of
Harriet’s glassy stare in her portrait but couldn’t imagine the
painted image as a flesh and blood human. She couldn’t see
Charlotte.

It was just before five when she saw the
numbers of her clock again. She wanted to stay in her bed but the
thoughts irritated her. She turned on her computer so she could
play some music and offer her brain a distraction. Her eyes felt
heavy but she decided to check messages she neglected from Sunday
and Monday. A lot of birthday wishes and pictures from the
party.

Lizzie looked at the happy images. It was a
really wonderful night, when she realized how lucky she was to have
such good friends and such an amazing, thoughtful boyfriend. She
let those images warm and divert her. She switched to her wall and
read through all the birthday wishes, including one from
Oliver.

She went back to his page and clicked on his
photographs. There was one of him in an Adidas biking shirt. It
showed his tall muscular physique. He was very attractive, much
more than Ben. He looked like one of the vampires from Meg’s
novels, with his dark thick hair and mischievous dark eyes. Lizzie
felt her cheeks burn suddenly as she realized he had features very
similar to Will.

She switched immediately over to Ben’s page
and looked at his few photos, including the ones Nora tagged from
her wedding. Her tired eyes didn’t resist the emotion. He wasn’t as
handsome as Oliver or Will. He was strong, but had an average
height not much more than her own. His freckles dotted over the
bridge of his nose. His reddish brown hair curled slightly but not
like a great mane. She loved him. Those green eyes always looked at
her with appreciation and concern… and love. She felt the bruises
above her elbows, but knew he was trying to protect her at the cost
of his own satisfaction. He had wisdom and kindness and a
thoughtfulness she thought was imaginary for many years. Why would
she let a few historic details allow her to question that? Why did
she tempt herself with the doubt of his true feelings? She wasn’t
destined to go to California and be with Oliver. She made the
choice to be with Ben. She made the choice to go running and seek
him along the river to ask him out. She chose to offer her blood
when he dared to tell her the truth. She made that choice, knowing
what she felt and what she wanted in her heart. As Lizzie Watson.
Lily had nothing to do with that. Lily and her heart’s desires were
in the past, faded away like the wallpaper in the Fulton House.

Chapter
Twenty

Lizzie looked at the display of DVDs,
wondering if any would appeal to impulse. She shifted the items in
her arms to pick up a copy and read the short description. The
words blurred as she caught sight of another customer walking
swiftly by. She gasped on a lost breath and mindlessly returned the
DVD to the shelf.

The man stopped to pull a CD from the shelf.
It was much more vivid in reality than her glance at Facebook
pictures. It was as if she was standing a few feet from Oliver in
his Adidas biking shirt. “Will,” she was startled by the sound of
her voice interrupting her stare.

“Hey Liz,” he turned around slowly. “It’s
been ages.”

“A year or two,” Lizzie shook her head,
readjusting the package of paper towels and sweater in her hand.
She looked at the big package of diapers Will was carrying. “A lot
has happened.”

“I’ll say so. A baby boy in June,” he beamed
proudly.

“I saw your pictures on Facebook,” Lizzie
realized that smile didn’t warm her as it once did. “What’s his
name?”

“Brian.”

“You and Lindsey must be happy.”

“Yeah, I think we are. You look great.”

“Thanks,” Lizzie darted her eyes away from
his gaze. She felt uncomfortable and guilty acknowledging the
admiration she once craved from that face.

“How’s Davis?”

“Pretty good. He and Andrew just got back
from P-Town.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry to have missed their last
parties.”

“I imagine you’ve been a little occupied,”
Lizzie looked towards another customer walking in her direction.
She stepped out of his way and closer to Will.

“Indeed,” Will nodded blankly.

Lizzie shifted her paper towels again and
mimicked his nod. “Well, maybe we’ll see you at the next party,”
she said quickly, stealing one last glance at his dark eyes. It
really was uncanny… that two people who never met could look so
similar.

“Yeah. Well, it was great to see you,” Will
retreated to his original direction.

“Great,” Lizzie accepted the loose embrace
he offered before turning away.

Lizzie watched until he disappeared into the
crowd by the registers. It wasn’t that long ago… really… when the
mere sight of him made her day. When she hung on his every word.
When she wished and hoped that he would look at her with the
admiration he just did. Only it wasn’t… it was just applause for
her achievement. A little lascivious… but nothing… really serious.
And she didn’t care. Only she did. Not because it was Will looking
at her that way. Because it was like someone else looking at her
that way.

Is that why she liked Will? The struggle for
their ten or so lines of conversation made her wonder why her heart
was so crazy for him. Was it just a resemblance to someone…

“
Hey!” Ben came up beside
her.

“Hey,” she mouthed, still staring after the
shadow of Will.

“Why did you get so many paper towels?” he
set down a long heavy box on the floor.

“
I need to contribute to
my apartment, even if I’m not there all the time,” she shook her
head and saw the box. “What is that?”

“
Some shelves to put in my
closet. To give you some space to leave your things, if you
want.”

Lizzie warmed. She wondered if that was just
an impulse buy because he agreed to follow her into Target. Or if
it was something he had been thinking about for a while.

“Do you want to pick out another design?” he
asked when she didn’t respond.

“Weren’t you a carpenter in one of your
lives?”

“No,” he laughed as he wrapped his arm
around her waist. “Even if I were, I doubt I would have the time…
are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Lizzie straightened
herself. “I just saw… I just saw Will.”

“The guy you had a thing for?”

“
Yes,” she looked for any
hint of jealousy. What would Ben have said if he saw Will and his
resemblance to Oliver? He just looked back at her with those green
eyes and a smile itching the sides of his mouth. She shook her
head. “I like those shelves. Let’s go.”

“
Let’s go,” he repeated
and broadened his smile to hide another twitch. Lizzie glanced one
more time to see if she would find Will. But he was
gone.