So Close to You (So Close to You - Trilogy) (27 page)

“When I was in school I wrote for the paper,” I say absently as I examine the bookshelf. “I want to be a journalist.”

“Have you thought about college? There’s Barnard, in New York. Right next door to Columbia, my alma mater. Mary thought about applying, but now she’s set on joining the army to become a nurse.”

I look up, surprised by his tone. “Do you not want her to enlist?”

“It’s her decision. I want her to be happy. And she’s happiest when she’s helping people.” He shrugs and picks up a pipe from the cluttered desk. “And when she’s drawing. That’s how she relaxes. Mary has an artistic soul. She’s very sensitive.”

I bite the apple again, chewing thoughtfully. “I know. I’ve seen her sketchbook.”

“Really?” Dr. Bentley raises his bushy eyebrows, and he brings the pipe to his mouth. He lights it with a match, puffing on the end as the flame disappears into the wide rim. “She must trust you. She doesn’t show her work to many people.”

“But she’s so talented!”

“She is.” He puffs twice and smoke curls toward the ceiling. It smells warm and spicy and safe somehow. I think of my grandfather and wonder what he’s doing right now. Is he smoking his pipe? Is he looking for me? Has time stopped while I’ve been gone?

“I hope I can admit now that I had my doubts about you staying here, Lydia. But I know that Mary feels so close to you. And now that Dean has left …”

I freeze, one hand resting on an old leather-bound book. “What did you say?”

“Mary’s really come to care about you.”

“No, about Dean. What do you mean, he left?” My hands clench automatically, and apple juice squeezes over my fingers. It drips onto the wood floor.

He sees my stricken expression and cocks his head at me. “It’s only for a few days, most likely.”

“But I thought he wasn’t leaving until tomorrow. That’s what he said at the picnic. Not until tomorrow, the fifth.” I can’t seem to stop talking as I try to digest this news.

“Are you feeling all right?” Dr. Bentley looks at me with concern. “You’re pale. Come sit down.” I let him lead me over to the large leather chair behind the desk.

“You’re sure he’s gone already?”

Dr. Bentley nods.

“Why did he leave early?” My chest feels heavy. Dean isn’t supposed to disappear until
tomorrow
. What does it mean that he left a day early? Has my grandfather had the date wrong all these years, or has something changed? Was Wes right? Has my presence altered the time line somehow?

“These things happen, especially where Dean is concerned.” Dr. Bentley smiles a little sadly. He turns toward the window, looking out on the backyard. Sunlight is streaming through the trees.

“Dean was always the adventurer. I suspect that’s why he’s risen in the military so quickly. There’s nothing he won’t volunteer for, nothing he won’t try. It’s a miracle he wasn’t injured overseas. I spent most of his childhood patching him up after his big stunts.” He takes a drag from the pipe, his eyes shadowed. “He wants to make the world safe for the people he loves. It’s a trait that Peter will inherit, I suspect.”

I picture my brave, stubborn grandfather, who has never given up on trying to discover the truth of what happened to his father. “I know he has.”

Dr. Bentley straightens. “What do you say you and I have some breakfast? I’ve been eyeing the leftover pie Mrs. Bentley made last night. But fair warning—I make no promises if she catches us. In fact, I’ll most likely blame it all on you.”

“That would be great.” I smile weakly. Why,
why
did I chicken out yesterday? Why didn’t I tell Dean the truth when I had the chance? Now he’s gone before I had a chance to stop him. He’s probably inside the Facility already, preparing for a doomed mission. How am I going to save him now?

“It’s every man for himself in the trenches.” Dr. Bentley walks out of the study. We’re almost to the kitchen when a honking noise has us both turning toward the window.

“Looks like Lucas is here,” Dr. Bentley says.

I open the front door. Lucas is standing on the bottom step. His eyes are hard and his mouth is pulled tight at the corners. “Lydia. I was hoping I could talk with you.”

“Of course.” I smile tentatively and open the door wider.

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to come inside.”

“All right.” I close the door behind me and follow him onto the lawn. It’s sunny out and starting to get warm.

Lucas stops next to his truck. “Is anyone here?” he asks.

“Mary and Mrs. Bentley went to church. Dr. Bentley is still inside.”

He nods, then leans against the door of the truck.

“Lucas, is everything okay?”

“Are you stuck on Smith?” he blurts out.

I gape at him. “Stuck on …? Do you mean am I
with
Wes?”

He looks at me, waiting for an answer. His cheeks are even pinker than normal.

I laugh nervously and run my fingers through my messy curls. “Why are you asking me this?”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “I saw you with him last night. Dancing. Running off into the woods. I saw the way he looked at you.” His voice is filled with hostility. It dawns on me that although Lucas is easygoing, he wears
all
of his emotions on his sleeve, including anger.

I look down at my bare feet. I didn’t have time to put on shoes, and the gravel from the driveway is digging into my toes. I’m still angry with Wes, still hurt, but I can’t deny my feelings—even if he doesn’t feel the same way.

“Yes,” I say softly. “I think I am.”

Lucas’s mouth falls open. “What? What about … I thought …” He trails off, looking shocked.

My voice is small. “I’m sorry, Lucas. Wes and I … it’s really complicated.”

He sighs. “I told you I wanted to get to know you better. I thought you wanted that too.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I should have told you last night.”

He takes a step toward me. “I know I didn’t invent this.” He waves his hand back and forth in the air between our bodies.

“I didn’t know how you felt until last night. I should have said something then, but I didn’t want to hurt you....”

“You only met him a few days ago!” Lucas exclaims, apparently forgetting that I only met
him
a few days ago too.

“It doesn’t matter.”

He makes a noise in his throat. His blue eyes are burning as he asks, “What about me?”

I bite my lip. If I had met Lucas in my own time, I might have fallen for him. And I can’t deny that a small part of me is attracted to his easy charm. He made life simpler when I desperately needed it to be. But there was always Mary—and Wes—between us. It could never work.

I don’t want to upset Lucas, but I can’t give him hope that I might change my mind either. The whole situation reminds me of my relationship with Grant. I realize now that Hannah was right—I
should
have been honest with him from the beginning. I’m always saying that the truth is worth knowing, even if it hurts. Maybe it’s time for me to start practicing what I preach.

I push my shoulders back and face Lucas. “I’m sorry.” My tone is firm. “I’m falling in love with Wes, and I … don’t feel the same about you.”

His eyes shut.

“Lucas.” I say his name like a plea. “Trust me when I tell you there’s a great girl out there for you. I know that for a fact.”

“But she’s not you,” he says softly.

I shake my head slowly. Then I make a choice, one I know Wes wouldn’t approve of. “You should think about … Mary.”

He opens his eyes. “Mary?”

I nod. “Mary.”

He raises one hand to scratch the back of his neck. “Mary?” he asks again.

I laugh a little, trying to break the tension. “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

“I mean, I guess … I just never really …” He looks up and I see that some of the disappointment has left his face, replaced by a thoughtful expression. “Mary?”

We’re interrupted by the sound of an approaching car. Lucas and I both step back as Mrs. Bentley pulls into the driveway. As soon as the car rolls to a stop, Mary hops out of the passenger side. Mrs. Bentley gets out too and waves to us on her way into the house.

“Lucas!” Mary sounds breathless. “What are you doing here?”

Lucas looks at her, and I see his gaze start with her feet and work his way up. She is pretty and flushed in a bright yellow sundress, her auburn curls tumbling around her shoulders. “I was …” He can’t seem to take his eyes from her. “I was just …”

“Church was so boring,” Mary chatters. “Mrs. Potter was wearing this huge hat and you couldn’t see anything over it. And the sermon was an hour, I swear it.”

Lucas opens his mouth and closes it again. “I was just leaving,” he says abruptly.

“Oh.” Mary’s smile fades. “When will we see you again?”

He glances at me, then turns back to Mary and smiles so wide you can see his crooked bottom teeth. “Soon. Real soon.”

She beams at him and I step back. I try to contain my own smile and fail miserably. The more I meddle in the past, the more I’m tempting the butterfly effect, and I know I need to be careful. But I may have been the reason Lucas wasn’t focused on Mary in the first place, and that seems like an even larger interference. Fixing it was obviously the right thing to do. Lucas and Mary are meant to be.

Lucas walks to his truck. “See ya, Mary.” He turns to face me and his expression drops a bit. “Good-bye, Lydia.”

He doesn’t wait for a response, just gets in and starts the engine. A loud rumbling sound fills the yard. “Good-bye, Lucas,” I say, even though I know he can’t hear me anymore.

N
ot
long after Lucas leaves, Elizabeth appears with Peter and the whole family has lunch. Everyone is quiet after Dean’s sudden departure, and we all pick at our food, not saying much. When the meal is over, Peter plays with his soldiers in the backyard. Mrs. Bentley asks me and Mary to weed her victory garden while she has tea in the parlor with Elizabeth.

We wear old baggy jeans with rolled-up hems. “Dungarees,” Mary calls them as she ties a scarf around her head. It takes forever to pull all the dandelions and grass peeking out among the early summer vegetables. Mary complains about the heat and her aching muscles until I find a long, wiggly earthworm in the dirt and dangle it in her face. She squeals and shrieks and I smile, happy to distract her—and myself—from thoughts of Dean.

“Don’t look now, Lydia,” she says, pointing at something over my shoulder, “but I think you’ve got a visitor.”

I look up from the dirt to see Wes standing near the edge of the backyard. At the sight of him, my heart starts to beat faster, even as the anger and disappointment from last night washes over me.

I walk over to him, stopping a few feet away. Caked dirt falls from my fingers and sprinkles onto the grass beneath our feet. “What do you want, Wes?”

He stares at me, his eyes darker than usual. He’s acting as though nothing is different, as though he didn’t try to manipulate me just a few hours ago. “I need to show you something.”

“What is it?” I ask.

He looks behind me, where Mary is avidly eavesdropping. She doesn’t even pretend to look away.

His voice drops, low and deep. “I need to show you something,” he repeats, and he sounds so forceful, so intense, that for a minute I forget to be mad at him.

“Come with me.” He turns and walks away. I follow him around the side of the house and into a small section of forest, far away from the eyes and ears of the Bentleys.

“Wes, what’s going on?”

He turns to face me and reaches into the pocket of his olive army jacket. He pulls out a folder and holds it between us, his face grim.

I take it from him. My dirty fingers leave brown smudge marks on the surface. On the back of the folder is a red
CONFIDENTIAL
seal. On the front are the words
THE RECRUITMENT INITIATIVE
stamped in black. I turn it over in my hands and look up at Wes. “This is the same type of file I took from Dr. Faust’s office.”