The Color of Heaven - 09 - The Color of Time (7 page)

BOOK: The Color of Heaven - 09 - The Color of Time
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I sat for a moment, running my fingers over the back of her aged, blue-veined hand. “I didn’t want to do it, you know. If it had been up to me alone, I would have had the baby and kept it. What I really wanted was to marry Ethan. I was only sixteen, but that’s what I wanted. I think we would have been happy, if only…”

Gram regarded me with compassion. “There’s no way to know how that would have turned out,” she said. “That’s the thing about regret, and over-analyzing the past. We can wish all we want that we had done something differently, but maybe a different path might have been all wrong for us, and things would have turned out far worse than they are today.”

“Or better,” I suggested.

She stared at me for a long moment. “The point is, life throws curve balls at everyone. For all you know, if you’d had that baby, you might have had a stroke during childbirth. Maybe
you
wouldn’t be here today.”

“I suppose.”

“Besides… You remember what his family was like. They wouldn’t have accepted you or recognized your baby as their grandchild. They would have done whatever was necessary to cut you out.”

“That’s probably true,” I replied. “Looking back on it, what I should have done was hire a lawyer and taken them straight to the cleaners. Even if they wouldn’t let Ethan marry me, they might have paid me off. I could have been a rich woman—and kept my baby, too.”

Gram considered that with a raised an eyebrow. “Hindsight is always twenty-twenty.”

With a resigned sigh, I leaned back in my chair. “Who am I kidding? I couldn’t have done that to Ethan. I loved him. Remember how much you and Grampy liked him, too? He fit in with us, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” she replied with a look of fondness in her eyes. “He was a nice boy, but nothing can change what happened. No amount of wishing for what
could
have been will make any difference in your life today.”

“You’re starting to sound like Jenn,” I said with a sad chuckle as I lowered my gaze. “She’s always telling me to forget what happened and move on.”

“You don’t have to forget it,” Gram said. “It’s part of who you are, but you do need to move on. You’re still young. You have your whole life ahead of you.”

“Which is exactly what my parents said to me at the time, when I was sixteen.” I let out a deep breath. “I just wish I could lay it to rest. It’s like I lost a part of myself after that summer, and I’m still searching for that missing part. Or searching for
something
. All I want to do is go back there in my mind. Relive it. Find what’s missing. Hold onto it.”

“There’s nothing back there but tears.”

I nodded. “Maybe.”

Later that afternoon, after I left the hospital, I drove out to Cape Elizabeth to walk along the rocky shoreline and think about what happened after my abortion.

I had spent the winter in Montana, going to school and missing Ethan terribly while he was at Yale. We emailed each other every day, counting the minutes until we could be together again the following summer when we both returned to Maine.

I had hoped that Ethan and I could pick up where we left off, before we’d found out I was pregnant. I wanted to pretend it never happened and bury the grief and regret I felt over not having our baby.

Sadly, nothing turned out for the better when I was reunited with him at last, because I couldn’t simply move on. I was still hurting, yet I wanted to be happy again. I was impatient for a perfect life with Ethan where there would be no sorrow.

If only I had not pushed so hard to try and make things go my way.

Chapter Sixteen

Maine

Summer, 1999

“Slow down, you’re driving too fast,” Ethan said to me as we rounded a bend in the road on the way out to Cape Elizabeth. It was the first time he’d let me drive his Porsche—just after he’d finally agreed to take me inside his parents’ summer mansion on the water. But only because they were in New York and the housekeeper was off duty for the evening.

“I can’t help it,” I said, taking my foot off the gas pedal and hitting the breaks hard. “I’m annoyed.”

He placed a hand on the dashboard to brace himself. “I don’t know what the big deal is. You’ve been wanting to see the inside of the house for ages, and now I’m taking you there. I don’t know why you’re mad.”

We had both been back in Maine for over two weeks and had promised each other we wouldn’t dwell on what happened the previous fall when he sent me money for the abortion—but then he couldn’t afford to fly out for the actual procedure. My parents had gone with me that day.

It was a miracle they’d agreed to let me come back here, after everything that happened. What they
really
wanted was for me to stay home that second summer and get a job in Billings, scooping ice cream or something. But Ethan and I were still in love and I suppose they feared that if they forbade me from seeing him, I would have done something drastic—like quit school and run away from home.

I wouldn’t have done that. After what happened with the pregnancy, I’d grown up a lot. I didn’t want to make any more mistakes. All I wanted was to be with Ethan and for things to work out between us. We’d managed to make it through the school year, after all. That was something. Maybe in time we could still get married.

And yet, I was impatient.

“You promised it would be different this summer,” I reminded him as I sped up again and shifted into a higher gear. “When I agreed to take the money for the abortion, you promised you would introduce me to your parents, but now you’re saying that you won’t. I don’t want to have to spend another summer sneaking around. I hate how it makes me feel—like you’re ashamed of me.”

“I’m
not
,” he replied. “And why do you need my parents’ approval? They’re not important. What matters is what’s between
us
. You and me.”

“They’re your parents and they’re a part of who you are,” I argued. “I know you say your father’s really strict, but I’m sure I could win him over.”

Ethan shook his head with frustration.

I turned briefly to look at him. “You don’t think so?”

“I know them. They wouldn’t give you a chance. My dad would threaten to cut me off, and believe me, he doesn’t make idle threats. Seriously, Sylvie… Just be patient and let me get through college. Once I get into law school, I’ll be set on my own and it won’t matter. But I have to get in first.”

I swallowed over my frustration and drove faster toward Cape Elizabeth. When we finally arrived and I turned up the long tree-lined lane to his family home on the sea, the sun was just setting.

As we emerged out of the trees, I beheld the white painted Georgian mansion before a glorious pink sky, and decided to let go of my disappointments and enjoy the night. Ethan was right about one thing at least. I had been wanting to see the inside of this house for ages. I didn’t want to spoil it by arguing with him about the past or the future or anything else.

Pulling the car to a halt on the white gravel drive, I shut off the engine and handed the keys to Ethan. He regarded me in the gleaming twilight, appearing uncertain.

“I’m sorry I was upset,” I said, leaning closer to wrap my arms around his neck. “I’ve been bottling things up all winter, trying to pretend everything’s fine, but it was rough being away from you. I just had to get everything out.”

But I hadn’t gotten it all out. There were still so many other issues I didn’t even touch on—mostly to do with my unhappiness over terminating my pregnancy. His parents were the least of my troubles, but I doubt I was mature enough at the time to fully understand the complexities of my emotions.

“I’m sorry, too,” he replied, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “I remember what I promised you last fall, and now I’m reneging on that. I’m a heel. You deserve better.”

I touched my forehead to his. “You’re not a heel, and I don’t want anyone but you. This is fine. I’ll wait forever if I have to, as long as I know we’ll be together in the end.”

“We will be,” he assured me, and I believed him with every inch of my soul. “Now let’s go inside.”

Chapter Seventeen

“This is incredible,” I said as I climbed the steps leading to the stately front veranda beneath a high-columned portico. “I hope you appreciate how lucky you are.”

“Actually,” he replied, “I probably don’t. I’ve been coming here since I was born, so I’m never bowled over.”

I grinned flirtatiously. “That’s why you’re lucky to have
me.
To help you appreciate the life you’ve been given. It’s no fun if you take it for granted.”

He slid his arm around my waist and kissed me on the cheek. “I agree.”

Together we entered through the front door, which boasted a massive brass knocker in the shape of a lion’s head. Once inside, where it was quiet and dimly lit, I felt as if I were standing in a museum, after hours.

Ethan flicked on a light and the crystal chandelier over my head illuminated the wide entrance hall, decorated with Victorian styled wall paper and old family portraits.

“Are these your ancestors?” I asked, moving forward to look more closely at a painting of a woman in a Victorian wedding gown.

“I have no idea who any of these people are,” he replied. “The house was a wedding gift to my parents, from my mother’s father. I think it came fully furnished from the previous owners in an estate auction.”

“Does your grandfather ever come to visit?”

“No, he died when I was three. I don’t really remember him.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” My eyes traveled up the length of an ornately carved staircase railing, then I glanced toward the dining room on my right.

Ethan gestured with a hand to suggest I explore wherever I wished.

“Do your parents have a lot of dinner parties?” I asked, taking in the giant mahogany table that could seat at least twenty guests.

“Not too many out here,” he replied. “They do most of their socializing in New York.”

He followed me as I wandered into the front parlor—a large room with antique furniture that looked as if it had come straight out of a historical costume drama on television, with lords and ladies, parlor maids and butlers. There was a fireplace big enough to crawl into, surrounded by a white marble hearth.

We continued toward the modern updated kitchen at the back of the house, then into a library with a wall of bookcases behind a heavy, old-fashioned desk and leather chair.

I strode to the bookcase and ran my fingers along the spines of all the old books. “I can just imagine pulling one of these out and discovering a secret door to another world. You know…like in the old movies?”

“I should take you up to the attic sometime,” Ethan said. “You’d love it. It’s full of all kinds of weird Victorian gadgets and clocks that haven’t been wound in a century.”

“There’s probably a fortune in antiques up there.”

We left the library and went upstairs, where Ethan showed me his parents’ master suite. It was a spacious room with a four-poster, king-sized bed and canopy, elegant draperies on the paned windows, a wood-burning fireplace and two matching mahogany wardrobes. All the floors were polished to a fine sheen beneath tasteful Persian carpets.

“My room’s not quite so impressive,” Ethan said, taking my hand to lead me down the wide corridor. We passed three guest chambers, all with unique color schemes, and finally came to his room at the end.

“It’s a whole lot nicer than mine,” I replied as I walked in and looked over the large sleigh bed with a navy and white striped comforter, and the television built into the wall. “Is that your own bathroom?” I asked with fascination as I crossed to the open door next to the closet.

Indeed, it was a private ensuite with an enormous bathtub that could fit two people.

“It has jets,” I noticed as I bent over it.

“Yeah, but I never use it,” he replied. “I’m a shower person.”

“I’ve never taken a bath with jets before.”

“Do you want to use it now?” he asked.

I turned to him hesitantly. “Are you crazy?”

“Why? There’s no one here. The housekeeper’s gone to her nephew’s wedding in Freeport overnight, and my parents won’t be back until tomorrow. The groundskeeper left at five and he won’t be back until Monday morning. You don’t have to be home until midnight.”

“So we’re completely alone?” I asked, tilting my head to the side.

“Yep.”

I glanced down at the luxurious jet tub and didn’t see how I could refuse such an opportunity—to live for a moment like the rich and famous.

“Do you have any bath suds?” I asked, imagining myself sinking into it like Julia Roberts in
Pretty Woman
.

“Anything you want,” Ethan replied.

“Do you plan on joining me?” I carefully asked.

With a friendly, open expression, he approached. “Only if you want me to.”

My heart pounded wildly as I considered it.

Just then, the sound of car tires crunching over the gravel in the driveway caused us both to turn. A car door opened and closed. I felt a rush of anxiety as Ethan hurried out of the bathroom to look out the window in his room.

“Who is it?” I asked, following him and hoping it would be Chris and his girlfriend, or some other friend of Ethan’s.

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