An Ever Fixéd Mark (39 page)

“Is that all?” Lizzie held her breath.

“My wounded ego is a pretty big deal,
Lizzie,” he laughed. He looked out the driver side window at a car
that passed along the street. “You know, the thing is, Lily was as
much a sister to me as a lover. I could talk with her about
anything. She always listened to me. She just listened and never
passed judgment. When she was gone, I didn’t have that any more. I
didn’t have anyone who would listen to me.”

“That’s because you killed her,” Lizzie
hardened her jaw.

Oliver looked at her. “She also never
hesitated to tell me when I was losing perspective,” Oliver smiled,
softening Lizzie’s harsh expression. “I don’t know how this
reincarnation thing works, Lizzie, but that’s the part of Lily that
seems to be living in you.”

She managed a confused smile. The
conversation was so surreal, talking about deaths with which Oliver
had a hand, direct or indirect. She wanted to know those details.
She did think at the end of the day that he was a good soul, who
meant well … but, like Meg, got in trouble by making the wrong
decision. Meg’s trouble usually only involved too much alcohol or a
poor taste in men. Oliver’s resulted in consequences far more
severe, that affected and hurt other people.

She knew he paid her a kind compliment. He
attributed something that he admired in Lily to something he…
respected in her. He thought of Lily as a sister. Did that mean
that was how he saw her? It wasn’t an inappropriate thought, even
with Ben. Especially with Ben.

His smile weakened with her silence. “I’m
sorry. I shouldn’t have said that?”

Lizzie lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know
what the rules are for this,” she said helplessly even though she
was pretty certain she was breaking them anyway.

“It’s late,” Oliver fingered the keys
hanging from the ignition.

“Thanks for the ride,” Lizzie opened the
door.

“Let me know about tomorrow.”

“Good night, Oliver,”
Lizzie left the car. He waited until she closed the door of the
house behind her.

Chapter
Twenty-Five

Lizzie leaned her head back and looked up to
the T Rex towering above them. “I remember this from when I was a
kid,” she lowered her chin and smiled at Oliver.

“It is pretty impressive.”

“Did you ever come here on a field
trip?”

“I don’t think Springs brought us here.”

“No. Elementary school. We had a sleepover
here.” Lizzie stopped in front the exhibit on fossils. “You never
went to elementary school.”

“I didn’t even know how to read when I
changed.”

“Is that why Lily read to you?”

“Yes,” Oliver looked down at the description
of the Mesozoic Era. “I learned how to read so I could remember her
books.”

“How many times did you go to college?”

“Twice. Law school took a long time,” he
rolled his eyes.

“Where?”

“Stanford,” Oliver moved to the next
placard.

“When did you go to California?”

“After Eloise,” Oliver walked into the next
gallery.

Lizzie pretended to read more on dinosaurs
but the words didn’t sink into her brain. She followed Oliver’s
path and saw him staring at another glass case. “I didn’t go right
to California.” Lizzie saw his reflection in the glass. “I took my
time getting across the country. I was in New York for a few years
first.”

“What were you doing?”

“I was an actor,” he winked and moved to the
next case. “I enrolled in Stanford University in 95. I graduated
from law school in 04.”

Lizzie bit her lip. That wouldn’t be too
unusual a phrase coming from someone who looked Oliver’s age. But
Lizzie knew that the century was different from what any casual
eavesdropper would surmise. “And you became a lawyer?”

“Indeed.”

“For how long?”

“Fifteen years or so,” Oliver led her
towards the next display. “Then I invested in the movies.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Nope,” he laughed. “I lost a lot of
money.”

“You didn’t get rich?”

“I told you I don’t have Ben’s head for
business,” he glanced briefly at the levers and pulleys. “But then
Charlotte came back.”

“Oh.”

“She was successful as an actress. They
loved her youthful appearance. It was perfect for silent movies.
She loved Hollywood in the 20’s,” Oliver looked at the empty
gallery around them. A guide entered with a group of school
children in the room, filling the air with a hum of sound. “She
liked all the chorus girls.”

“Charlotte was a lesbian?” Lizzie said as
the guide came to a lull, fearing it echoed over the tour.

Oliver laughed and put his hand behind her
to direct her to the next gallery. “Charlotte had more female
lovers. When it came to blood, I don’t think she had a
preference.”

“You were her lover?” Lizzie looked at a
photograph of cells, realizing they were in an exhibit about
blood.

“On and off for several years,” Oliver
looked at her and not the exhibit.

“Did you love her?”

“Yes.”

“More than Lily?” Lizzie said it before
thinking.

“No.”

Lizzie sat on the bench in the center of the
empty room. She looked at the map she picked up at reception, not
registering her location in relation to the giant T Rex. “Why did
you…”

Oliver sat beside her and looked up at the
ceiling before fixing his eyes on her again. “Charlotte was a
monster, Lizzie. She was here too long. She lost her humanity. I
think she lost it even before she met Lily, even though she claimed
to have human emotion for her. She was cruel.”

“Women are cruel,” Lizzie thought of her own
heartlessness to Mike’s girlfriend. “Was she unfaithful to
you?”

“Always. As was I to her. But that wasn’t…”
Oliver took the map from Lizzie’s hands and stared at it. “It was
about Lily.”

Lizzie wanted to ask him to explain, but she
heard a voice telling her to let him be.

“I don’t ever want to be like that,” he
shook his head.

“Like what?”

“Like Charlotte. I don’t want to live too
long,” he stood and went back to the display.

“Why would anyone want to be a vampire?”
Lizzie asked as a couple walked into the room.

Lizzie felt her cheeks burn but managed a
pleasant smile as they walked over to read the placards. She felt
Oliver’s hand gently touch her shoulder and urge her out of her
seat. “Want to get out of here?”

The November wind softened to a milder, but
damp temperature. Lizzie appreciated it as they walked silently
along the Charles for a half hour. Lizzie had too many thoughts in
her head to know when or how to start the next conversation. “Are
you okay?” Oliver finally turned to her. “You looked a little green
in there.”

“I don’t know what I feel,” Lizzie kept
walking. The rhythm of her steps was a healthy distraction from
letting any thought take hold and develop an uncomfortable emotion.
“I still don’t know how Lily is me. How do you know that she is
me?”

“You called me Thomas.”

“What?” Lizzie stopped her distracting
paces.

“My given name is Thomas Oliver.”

“When did I call you Thomas?”

“During a debate on euthanasia. It was... I
think our first debate.”

“Was there anyone in the debate club called
Thomas?” Lizzie searched her memory for any Thomas she knew in high
school.

“No,” Oliver shook his head. “You looked at
me to argue a point for it. You addressed me – quite respectfully –
as Thomas. Nobody else noticed.”

“Ben said I wrote an essay and described the
Fulton parlor in vivid detail.”

“Yes. He told me that.”

“So you both knew… and I had no idea.”

“No idea?”

“Well, I didn’t know what those things
meant. I always had vivid dreams. I also have a theatrical
imagination… so I’ve never thought very much about it.”

“You probably didn’t believe in it.”

“I didn’t believe in vampires.”

“How did you find out?”

“Ben told me.”

“Did you believe him?”

“No,” Lizzie shoved her hands in her pocket
and went to a nearby bench. “So I stuck out my wrist and told him
to drink my blood.”

“Really?” Oliver laughed and slowly sat next
to her on the bench.

”I thought he was married.”

“I was surprised he started seeing you.”

“Why?”

“The Melissa thing freaked him out. He kept
telling me we needed to leave you be and let you live your
life.”

“I’m glad he changed his mind,” Lizzie
sighed. “My life has … it’s like a completely different reality
before Ben told me what he was. I didn’t like that reality. I
wanted to get rid of the life I had.”

“You have the same job, the same apartment…
the same city.”

“That’s all just scenery,” Lizzie fingered a
piece of paper inside her pocket. “I was so unhappy… and lost. I
kept falling for these real jerks. I was a jerk, too. I still
am.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because Ben doesn’t know I’m sitting
here.”

“Right,” Oliver nodded. “Will you tell
him?”

“I will,” Lizzie breathed out. “I will. On
Thanksgiving.”

“Why Thanksgiving?”

“Because he is coming home to meet my
parents. Then I’m going to tell him that I will move to Cambridge,”
Lizzie felt a breath of relief telling Oliver. She told someone.
She drew the line in the sand.

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Lizzie smiled. “Do you think the
two of you will ever… speak again?”

“Do you want us to?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll be here briefly after Thanksgiving.
Maybe we can get together.”

Lizzie breathed out through another smile.
“Good,” she rose to resume their walk along the Charles. She let
the silence fill the moments between their steps. The buzz of
approaching rush hour sped along Memorial Drive. She thought of her
runs along the river and seeing Ben.

Oliver looked at the Harvard buildings. He
took a few thoughtful steps and shifted his eyes back to Lizzie.
“Before Ben, were you dating anyone?”

“Not really.”

“Not at all? No boyfriend since high
school?”

“I wasn’t… I wasn’t the most attractive
person, Oliver,” Lizzie felt the drive to speed up her pace.

“You didn’t see yourself as attractive.”

“I suppose that’s true. I never had a real
interest in dating anyone. My friend Meg always had enough romance
for the both of us… and I’ve never really had a lot of faith in
happily ever after.”

“Why’s that?”

“I always thought it was because of my
parents…” Lizzie stopped and looked at Oliver. “But now I’m
starting to think there were other memories.”

“Something changed your determination,”
Oliver stopped alongside her.

“I met this guy…” Lizzie looked at Oliver’s
dark hair and eyes, seeing the resemblance to Will right in front
of her. “I had a devastating infatuation with him. I thought he was
my…” Lizzie faded as so many other thoughts in her mind started to
fade under the gaze of Oliver’s dark eyes. “I thought Will was my
soul mate.”

“He wasn’t?”

“Hardly,” Lizzie shook herself out of her
lapse and started walking again. “He was just very charming. It
turned out he had a thing for someone else.”

“He broke your heart.”

Lizzie felt the sympathy of his glance. A
silent understanding she neither asked for nor was surprised to
find in his eyes. “I think it was the first domino of many changes.
It provoked me to run and shed the hated weight I battled my whole
life. That gave me confidence enough to ask Ben to dance and… come
find him here.” Lizzie felt a sudden chill as the wind shuddered
across the river. She realized the warmth of the sun had nearly
disappeared behind the horizon. “It’s getting cold.”

“Where do we go next?”

“
I should get some
dinner,” she cleared her throat, almost hoping he would take the
cue.

“Let’s go find some,” he smiled, making her
relieved he didn’t get the hint.

*****

Lizzie was grateful Oliver received a phone
call and excused himself from the table to answer it. It allowed
her the chance to take four bites of her hamburger and a few fries
to absorb the pint and a half of beer she consumed while sharing
details of the past fifteen years. She did most of the talking,
sharing stories of her days at the Village with Meg and Nora,
almost all of Meg’s agony and ecstasy in the name of love, and the
trivia of gala planning at Mt. Elm. She realized as she finally
chewed her lukewarm burger that she hadn’t felt that at ease in a
conversation in many years… or perhaps, ever. She felt she could
tell Oliver anything. That he was, in fact, like her brother.

“Sorry about that. I had to finalize some of
my New York plans,” Oliver returned to their booth.

“No worries,” Lizzie set down her
burger.

“You should keep eating,” Oliver laughed.
“Don’t stop because of me.”

“I’m just a little hungry.”

“Okay.”

“Are the friends you’re meeting also… are
they vampires?”

“Yes.”

“
Did you know them when
you lived in New York?”

“Yes.”

“Good friends?”

“One is a former lover,” Oliver touched the
perspiration on his untouched beer.

“Oh.”

“I changed her.”

Lizzie felt her cheeks burn. “How many have
you changed?”

“Just two,” Oliver lowered his eyes. Lizzie
wondered if he was remembering their conversation in the museum or
the explanation of Melissa Benson.

“But…” Lizzie felt the thought escape before
she completely registered it in her mind. “You … you don’t want to
stay with them forever?”

“Forever is an awfully long time,” Oliver
looked to the stage where the band was checking sound.