Necessary Heartbreak (23 page)

Realizing that Leah was staring at her, Elizabeth finally asked, “What?”

“I'm so sorry. I don't know why I said you would be fine with me. I was so foolish, and you could have been badly hurt. Please for-give me.”

Michael heard them downstairs and swiftly descended the ladder. But when he reached the bottom, both Elizabeth and Leah just looked at him. There was a tense silence. He waited for one of them to speak.

“What was all the noise about?”

Elizabeth and Leah looked at each other, although Leah quickly turned away.

“We broke a jug out by the well, that's all,” Elizabeth lied.

Leah's head shot up as she looked at Elizabeth in astonishment.

“Oh, I thought you might have seen some soldiers, given the way you two have been acting.”

“No, no, Dad. We didn't see any.”

The three ate lunch in silence. They had salted and buttered cakes of crushed, malted grains. Elizabeth nibbled on some raisins but avoided the mulberries and nuts. Michael ate heartily while Leah barely touched a thing.

“I am going to get more water,” Leah said, watching Elizabeth's eyes widen. “We need water.”

“I thought you had already gotten the water,” Michael said.

Leah didn't answer. Michael and Elizabeth looked up from their bowls to watch her as she quickly descended the ladder.

“Are you ready to go today?” Michael asked Elizabeth, but she didn't answer. “Hello? Elizabeth?”

“Yes, Dad, I'm ready.”

“It doesn't sound like you're ready. Everything okay?”

“I'm not sure . . . there were soldiers at the well.”

Michael stood up. “You said there were none,” he replied, raising his voice and staring at her. Without warning he turned and ran up the ladder. As he reached the roof, he lay on his stomach and began to crawl its length. With barely a sound he made it to the far side and peered over the edge, looking toward the well.

Leah had followed curiously behind him. She looked at him from the top of the ladder. “What are you doing?”

“Shh. There he is,” Michael whispered, motioning for her to be quiet. “Or at least I think that's him. It's hard to tell. But I see a soldier over there talking to one of your neighbors.”

“What?”

Before Leah could finish her sentence, Michael put one finger to his mouth. “Quiet, I'm trying to listen.”

He slid his body another few inches forward and raised his head slightly. Leah could hear some muted voices, but she could tell by Michael's rigid form that he could hear every word. Once he was sure that the soldier had left, Michael gestured for her to go back downstairs.

d“What's wrong?”

“Go down,” he whispered as he began to crawl back toward the ladder.

Elizabeth was waiting at the bottom. “Dad, what's wrong?” she asked worriedly.

“In a minute, Elizabeth. I have to ask Leah something.”

He grabbed Leah's arm and guided her into the first room of the house. “The soldier was asking questions about me and Elizabeth,” he said urgently. “Your neighbor told the soldier that she was a relative.”

Leah nodded. “This is fine. Don't worry. They won't bother you then, knowing that you're a relative. It will make sense to the soldier, knowing the festivities are taking place this week.”

Michael shook his head. “How many soldiers did you see outside by the well?”

“There were some but I couldn't tell how many.”

“Great,” Michael muttered, then added in resignation, “Well, we have to stay for now.”

“I'm sorry. If I had known it would cause any danger to you or Elizabeth, I would have never asked her to come with me.”

Michael rubbed his temples wearily. “Just give me some time to think.”

“Can you ever forgive me?”

Michael took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. “Yes, yes, of course.”

“Thank you,” she said in a whisper, her voice faltering a bit, before leaving him to climb back to the second floor.

Michael leaned against the wall and watched Cassie stand to stretch. “Sometimes I wish I were you, Cassie. No worries about your daughter, no worries about keeping her safe . . . no worries at all.”

He stood there quietly for several minutes, pondering his next move. Was it safer to remain or more dangerous now?

His train of thought was broken by the sounds of Leah talking to
Elizabeth upstairs about weaving, asking her if she would like to try to make her own basket. Michael strained to hear his daughter, who wondered aloud if she would really be able to learn how.

“Of course,” Leah replied.

The lamb was braying to be let out of its stall, so Michael unhinged the gate, poked his head out cautiously, and followed it out into the courtyard. Sitting in the shade beneath the tree, he could hear Elizabeth and Leah giggling upstairs. Something about Leah's teaching Elizabeth to weave made him feel both peaceful and restless.

“Now watch me, Elizabeth,” Michael could hear Leah calmly instruct. “First soak it . . . now pull it up tight . . . no, no . . . good . . . oh, good, Elizabeth . . .”

“How is she doing up there?” Michael shouted to them from outside. He could hear Elizabeth giggling.

Through laughter, Leah called back down, “Good! It's just that the reed keeps hitting her in the face when she tries to bend it!”

Michael relaxed slightly, then smiled to himself, listening to them for a while. Leah's voice was so calm and smooth. He found it mesmerizing.

“Dad,” Elizabeth called from the window, “come and see what I've done!”

Michael stood up, brushed off some dust, and went up to the second floor. His daughter was waiting for him at the top of the ladder, holding a small, unfinished woven basket. Despite some gaps in her weaving, it was spectacular.

“See?”

“Beautiful, Elizabeth!”

Leah smiled, catching Michael's eyes. “Would you like to try?”

“No, no. Boys don't do that sort of thing.”

“But you tried to cook,” Leah said. “Boys don't do that here either.”

“You called that cooking?” asked Michael, laughing.

“No, I was just being polite,” she replied with a smile.

Since Elizabeth was enjoying weaving with Leah, Michael decided to go back downstairs and sit under the fig tree again. Cassie wandered nearby, eating some grain from a basket left near the wall. Seeing Elizabeth so happy with Leah lifted his spirits. He wondered if Leah could ever be part of their future.

He shook his head and fretted about the new night approaching. Life now seemed so simple in Northport when Vicki was around.

Michael loved walking after a good swim. The weeks following Labor Day were always the best time of year on the beach because it was quiet and empty. The sand was still warm, and the sun's heat soothed his shirtless chest while the waves caressed his toes.

Michael saw the Connecticut shoreline across Long Island Sound. He smiled, watching the scenery around him: a father teaching his son how to fly a kite, seagulls wrestling for a piece of bread tossed to them by an old lady sitting on a bench, a girl throwing a stick for her dog to chase, and a few boys playing football near the basketball courts.

But his favorite scene was the beautiful woman with green eyes lounging on a blanket about twenty feet ahead. She was watching him, smiling.

“Excuse me, young lady. Is there room on this blanket for me?”

The woman smiled back demurely. “Of course, young man.” She started to laugh. “Are you trying to pick me up?”

“Of course.”

Vicki was lying on her back, sipping white wine, and giggling. Her hair was tousled slightly from the ocean breeze.

Michael dropped down next to her on the blanket. “Look who's here.”

Vicki rolled over to him, staring into his eyes. “What would you do if I wasn't here?”

Usually it was Michael who started these kinds of conversations. But not now; it was much too beautiful today.

“Not here? Where are you going?”

“Come on, I'm serious. I'm so happy I found you. I know I couldn't live without you.”

“Yes, you could. You could have anyone you want.”

She became quiet, openly upset that he wasn't taking her seriously.

“Oh, you know I would be remarried in a month or two,” he kidded.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm . . . would you remarry someone who looked like me?”

“Not sure. I like blondes. You know, the Christie Brinkley type?”

Vicki whacked him on his shoulder. “Oh? Maybe I should rethink who I might remarry.”

“You have someone in mind?” asked Michael as he grabbed her arm gently.

“Yes, I do,” she said with a sly smile. “I like a tall man. Maybe Brad Pitt?”

“So, you're looking for a man with looks
and
money?”

“And Christie Brinkley doesn't have money?” Vicki countered.

They both laughed.

“You really like blondes?”

“Yeah, but she has to have a nice tan, too.”

“I'm not talking to you,” Vicki said, turning her head.

“Then I will kiss you since your mouth will be shut,” said Michael with a laugh. He peppered her with several kisses on the top of her forehead, behind her neck, the sides of her cheeks, and a few on her nose.

She giggled at him. “Okay, okay! I'll dye my hair for you.”

“Good. And you can call me Brad.”

“You!” She pushed him over onto his back, staring down into his eyes. “Oh, you know you'd miss me.”

“Dad?” Elizabeth said, crouched down next to him. “Dad, you fell asleep. Did you have a bad dream?”

“No, Baboo. I actually had a great dream. It was about your mom.” He stood up, pulling her up with him into a hug. “I miss your mother so much.”

“I know, Dad,” she replied, feeling uneasy from the seriousness of his tone.

“I've tried to dothe best for you, Elizabeth. I'm sorry I haven't gotten us home. I really have tried.”

“I know. I know you tried.”

“But it's never been enough. I don't know why I've been such a jerk. I've been so upset about losing your mother. I've made so many stupid mistakes. I could've done so many things differently.

“I should have let you roller-skate with the kids on the block but I was afraid you would hit your head. I should have let you go swimming with your friends at Jones Beach but I was scared a wave would drown you.

“I should have let you go shopping at the mall with your friends but I was worried about strangers. I can't bear the thought of losing you.”

Michael's body began shaking as he held her tightly.

“It's okay, Dad.”

“No, no, it's not okay, Elizabeth. There were times parents would call and ask me to set up play dates. And I would never respond because I was so worried you would just drift out of my life.”

Michael released his hug and threw his hands in the air. “I didn't let you have ice cream.
Ice cream.
Can you believe that? Looking back on it now, I can't believe it.