11
A week passed in the blink of an eye and suddenly Thursday was here again. Like she’d promised, Elaine didn’t stay. Once again she went to her friend’s house to work on her quilt. John saw now that her being gone was the best choice for all of them. He could give himself fully to the story—the way he had last week—and not worry how Elaine might feel about it.
John had decided to hold on to the copies of the photos until he was completely finished with the interviews. That way he could refer to them while he told the story. Last week he had shown Cole that first photo, the one from the dance. And also a picture Bill had taken of the two of them on their bench near the science building. Another one showed John and Elizabeth sitting on their bicycles after a ride around Ann Arbor’s downtown area.
There would be more today.
He met Cole and Ashley at the door and this time he didn’t struggle with where to begin. The next part of their story was as breathtaking as it was beautiful. The hard part of the story would come over the last two weeks. But even then, the pain of the past was part of the reason John and Elizabeth’s story was so amazing. God had taken the broken pieces of those long ago yesterdays and made them into a foundation for the entire Baxter family.
A foundation built on faith in God and love for each other.
When they were all seated, John held up a photograph. “This is the Wesley house. Where I lived. It’s where your grandma made me dinner that first night.”
Already Cole seemed to understand where the story was going. “Did you go back to the house alone again after that?”
“We didn’t. Not right away. I couldn’t put her in a compromising situation.” John almost winced as he said the words. The compromising would come later. First it was time to share some of the happiest days of his life. He titled this next part something that made Cole and Ashley smile.
Falling in Love.
Like before, as he began to answer Cole’s questions he felt himself drawn back in time. Until it was like those days were happening all over again.
In the most beautiful way.
• • •
THEY NEEDED A plan to see each other. John knew he couldn’t bring her back to his house. The outcome would be disastrous. Stopping had been nearly impossible last time. If they began kissing again, John wasn’t sure he’d find the self-control.
Two days later they met at their campus bench and made a plan. Elizabeth would tell her parents she needed all day Saturday to study with Betsy at the library. She would go to Betsy’s house, and Betsy would drive her to John’s.
Then John would whisk her away to Independence Lake Park, a scenic spot ten miles from campus. They could spend the day together and her parents would never know. John looked for her reaction as they talked about the idea.
“I don’t know.” Elizabeth faced him. Her hair was in a ponytail again and she looked young and afraid. “Meeting on campus is okay. I have to be here anyway, you know? And you might just be a friend.” She looked down and then lifted her eyes to him. “Leaving here . . . going somewhere like that, just the two of us . . . I could never explain that.” She paused. “If they find out . . .”
“They won’t.” John didn’t want to push. He rested his arm on the bench and watched her. “We don’t have to go. I don’t want you to worry.”
She slid closer to him, her eyes holding his. “You won’t let us get in trouble, right? My parents can never know.”
John thought about that. One day her parents would have to know, because John couldn’t imagine losing Elizabeth. And if they stayed together, then he’d have to face her parents one day. Even if they hated him and . . . He refused to finish the thought.
Elizabeth was waiting for his answer, looking to him for strength and certainty. He pushed his hesitancy down deep within him. “Never. I’ll protect you from them and anything else, Elizabeth. While you’re with me you’ll be safe. Always.” It was a response he would later regret. One he would’ve done anything to make true.
He wanted with everything in him never to let her down.
In the end they decided to take the Saturday adventure. He could tell Elizabeth was nervous because while he drove scenic Whitmore Lake Road north to the park, she fell completely silent. John parked the car and looked at her. “It’ll be okay.”
Elizabeth nodded, but didn’t say a word. John took the picnic basket and blanket from the trunk and came around to help her out. He had the entire day planned, but first he needed her to trust him. He managed to carry the basket and blanket and still reach for her hand. Her fingers felt cold against his touch so he found a spot in the sun on the sandy shore.
Once he had spread out the blanket he turned to her. “Come here.”
For the first time since they left Ann Arbor, Elizabeth smiled. Not the smile from the dance or the way she’d looked when they kissed at his house. But a smile racked with anxiety.
Even so she did as he asked. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her head against his chest. “I’m so cold.”
“You’re scared.”
“Yes.” She lifted her eyes to his. “I love my parents, John. I just wish . . . I wish I could . . .”
He waited, but she didn’t seem to know what to say, how to finish her thought. “You wish you could tell them about me?”
Her eyes clouded with frustration. “Yes. Exactly. They’re nice people.”
John had a dozen reasons why they weren’t nice people. Anyone who would keep their daughter in a prison of threats and unreasonable rules and blame their behavior on God didn’t deserve a girl like Elizabeth. But he kept his thoughts to himself.
“You aren’t saying anything.” She blinked a few times. “They’re not terrible. I mean it.”
“I’ll meet them one day.” He stepped back and forced a lighter mood. He did one of his bows, the same kind he’d done when he taught her the twist. Then like a proper Englishman, he pretended to remove his top hat and dip it, grand gesture and all. “ ‘Hello, fine madam and sir,’ I’ll tell them. ‘If it meets your approval, I’d like to court your daughter.’ ” He winked.
Her ripple of laughter set the day’s course in a better direction.
“ ‘What’s that you say? How long would I expect to court her?’ ” John raised his hands and spun in a slow circle. “ ‘Fine madam and sir, for a very long time indeed. Till the moon and sun cease to shine . . . till the oceans become dry land.’ ” He came to her again and took her face in his hands. His words mixed with the slight breeze off the lake. “ ‘Until I take my last breath.’ ”
“John . . .” Her voice sounded like she had forgotten where they were or why she was afraid.
“I’ll tell them, Elizabeth.” His laughter faded. All that mattered was each other, and this single moment between them. “Just give me a chance.”
Then, like the evening in his kitchen, he kissed her. Here, there was no music. Only the wind in the trees that surrounded the park. To John, the sound might as well have been a symphony. The rest of the day was like something from a movie. They left the blanket and picnic basket and rented a canoe. Together they paddled around the shore of Independence Lake, laughing and talking and pretending the world was on their side. On the far shore, away from the people gathered along the beach, Elizabeth spotted a baby bear. He was standing on his hind legs, leaning against a pine tree, batting his oversized paws at something up the tree trunk.
Every sound, every image, every second of their time was like the greatest gift. The reality waiting back home seemed to fall away, and for that one Saturday, Elizabeth was completely his. After the canoe ride, they hiked the trails that wove their way around the outer edges of the lake, and at one point they stopped and sat on a bench, out of sight from anyone.
It felt like they were the only people in the world.
“Tell me your dreams, Elizabeth.” John couldn’t get enough of her. Sure, he wanted to kiss her. He wanted more than that, if he were honest. But beyond that he wanted to know her, to meld his heart with hers until it was impossible to know where one ended and the other began.
She tilted her face to the vast blue sky and breathed in the fresh air. “I don’t think we have enough time.”
John smiled at her. “Try me.”
Her eyes shone with a freedom she had clearly not felt earlier. “Okay . . . It’s a long list.” A raw, youthful anticipation lit her expression and she stood—the empty trail her stage. “I want to play the piano and sing. Not just everyday sort of singing, but in a room with people who pay to watch. I’d like to make a record. And I want to act, too. Shakespeare and musical theater. Or maybe star in a movie.”
He raised his brow. “Ambitious. I love it.”
“That’s not all.” She giggled. “I want to be a lawyer, and lock up the bad guys so no one has to worry about violent people who get out of prison too soon.”
“That’s important.” John slid to the edge of the bench, mesmerized by her. “What else?”
“Modeling. I’d love to be a model. With the prettiest dresses in all the land. And I’d like to be a teacher and a painter. Oh, and a doctor. So I can help people.” She grinned at him. “A doctor like you’re going to be, John. We can work at the same hospital.”
“We will. Absolutely.” He hung on her every word. There was no other girl like her.
She spread her arms out as far as she could reach. “And I want to have a big family. A house full of kids with laughter and love and music. Everyone will see me with all these children and they’ll say, ‘Why, there goes Elizabeth. She’s the best mother to those kids.’ ”
John couldn’t stop smiling. He was dizzy from her monologue. He stood and moved toward her. This time when he put his arm around her waist and pulled her close the motion felt as natural as breathing. He wanted to tell her they wouldn’t say, There goes Elizabeth. They’d say, There goes Elizabeth Baxter. But it was too soon. He couldn’t let his heart get ahead of him.
Couldn’t risk her running scared.
Instead he held her loosely and together they swayed to the gentle sound of the lake water lapping against the shore. “I can dance with you anywhere.” He allowed his face to brush against hers. “Know why?”
“Why?” Her voice was like the wind around them. Soft and surreal, like maybe she wasn’t here and John wasn’t dancing in her arms on a dirt path.
“Because . . . you’re the music, Elizabeth.” He eased back, his eyes finding hers again. “I love you.” His words came without permission. As if his heart was speaking for him. “I’m in love with you.”
Her smile started slowly and then filled her face, her eyes. “I thought I was crazy. We only met a few weeks ago.”
John laughed. “We’re both crazy.” He put his hand against her cheek. “You feel it, too, don’t you?”
For a long while she only looked at him, as if she didn’t want to interrupt the beautiful moment with words. Finally she breathed in, her eyes holding his. “Yes, I feel it. I love you, too, John.”
He looked down to make sure his feet were still on the ground. He’d never been so happy in all his life. “We’ll figure this out.” He kissed her once and then again until his passion for her became more than he could bear. “Okay.” He steadied his breathing. A step back and then another. “Let’s keep walking.”
They were both breathless. Elizabeth laughed and played with her ponytail. She placed her hand in his as they started on the path. A few steps and she stopped, her eyes bright. “I forgot one thing.”
“One thing?”
“That I want to be someday.” She giggled. “I want to be a firefighter.”
He loved her. Everything about her. “You’d be the first one, then.”
“Wait.” She held up her finger, laughing harder now. As if she was giddy from all the feelings. “Not all the time. Just for a day. So I can see what it’s like to wear that heavy uniform and have the power to put out fires.”
“You’re wonderful.” He put his arm around her shoulders and they kept their pace slow, their steps in time with each other. Like another kind of dance. He glanced at her. “A firefighter?”
“Since I’m giving you the list,” her eyes sparkled up at him, “I don’t want to leave anything off.”
“I see that.” He wanted to kiss her again, but he didn’t dare. His resistance was only so strong.
They returned to the blanket John had spread out earlier and finished their afternoon with a picnic near the edge of the lake. All around them families sat at wooden tables and couples cozied up on blankets, lost in each other. Little kids laughed and ran across the grass, and all of it seemed like a painting. Like the lot of them were only here to provide the perfect backdrop for John and Elizabeth.
On the way home, the plan was that he’d take Elizabeth back to Betsy’s. Elizabeth’s parents had agreed to her staying the night at Betsy’s house as long as she was home early for church.
John looked at his watch. But he already knew they were running an hour early. His house was empty again; the Wesleys had once more taken the family to the lake for the weekend. The possibility took root in John’s mind and wouldn’t let go. He shifted in the driver’s seat, thinking of a way to ask her. She could come over for an hour. Nothing more.
Nothing good can come from it, he told himself. Don’t ask her. But he could already feel his strength waning. And then, as if she could read his mind, Elizabeth looked at him. “We’re early.”
He clenched the muscles in his jaw. It wouldn’t hurt. Not if they kept the visit short. A quick glance her way. “I was just thinking that.”
She nodded and turned her attention to the road ahead of them. They were almost to Ann Arbor.
John could feel the words fighting their way out. Elizabeth wasn’t going to take the lead on this. He swallowed. They’d be careful. Everything would be okay. “My family’s gone again.” He kept his gaze straight ahead. Whatever duplicity might lie in the depth of his eyes, he didn’t want her to see it.
“When do they come home?” She stared at her hands. Her tone told him she was battling her feelings, same as he was. The anxiety over needing to be back at Betsy’s versus the other need . . . the greater need.
The chance to be together for another hour.
He reached across the seat and took her hand. With the decision between them as heavy as their unspoken desire, he worked his fingers between hers. The feeling stripped away every last ounce of his defenses. The touch of her skin against his, a sort of tipping of the scales so that there really was no decision to make.
“Maybe . . . you could come over? We could watch TV or listen to music.” He cast her a weak smile. “Just be together.”
Elizabeth was a naïve nineteen. She looked young because she was young, and John already knew he was her first kiss. Now as she turned her eyes to him, he could see that she wanted to be with him. But more than that, she trusted him. Her shy look told him so. “I’d like that, John.” She hesitated. “I’d love it.”
They wouldn’t cross lines. John would make sure of that. Just to have her alone, without other people around them. The two of them laughing and talking and dreaming without distraction. He thought some more. Okay, so maybe they might kiss. Just once or twice. Nothing too intimate. Yes, this was a good choice. John was sure. Nothing inappropriate would happen. He felt himself relax.
The rest of the ride home he entertained her with stories from his classes. “So we’re dissecting a frog. Like I had to do in undergrad.” He chuckled. “And all I could think was, How is this going to help me treat patients in an emergency room?”
She laughed and he could feel her relax a little. “Not a lot of frogs rushing into the hospital.”
“Exactly.”
They laughed until they arrived at his home. He held her hand as the two of them walked inside. “I’ll get you water.” Definitely water. The Wesleys didn’t keep beer in the house. Except . . . The week before, one of the Wesleys’ friends had joined them for a cookout and brought a six-pack. As far as John knew, four of the beers were still in the fridge.
Not a good idea, he told himself. Besides, Elizabeth was underage. He wouldn’t consider giving her something to drink. He poured her a glass of water and then opened the refrigerator. A pop, maybe. Coca-Cola or a root beer. Something to keep him busy while they sat together. So he wouldn’t think about how very alone they were.
But when he opened the door, when he looked at the drinks on the second shelf, the only one that looked good was the Budweiser. He hesitated. He could have one. Elizabeth wouldn’t mind. Kids at U of M drank, after all. It wasn’t like she’d judge him for it. He grabbed a can and walked back to the living room.
Elizabeth was sorting through the music. She looked up when she heard him and glanced at his drink. “Beer?”
“Just one.” He handed her the water and raised the can in her direction. His grin kept the situation light. “I’m old enough, you know.”
She seemed to process that. “True.” She laughed. “I keep forgetting how old you are.”
“How old?” He mouthed the words. They both laughed. John pulled the tab on the beer and joined her near the shelf of eight-track albums in the corner of the room. He took a swig. The pungent liquid hit the spot. The day at the lake had made him thirstier than he had known. “What do you want to hear?”
Elizabeth looked through the choices. “Hmmm . . . Here!” She pulled out the Beatles. “You have Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club? I listened to it the other day at Betsy’s house.”
“Sure.” He chuckled. “Looks like we’re playing that one.”
They sat next to each other on the sofa and for forty minutes they talked about their peers at school and laughed at some of the university’s more difficult professors and listened to the Beatles. John wasn’t really paying attention, but one beer led to another, and then a third. He drank on occasion, but not every weekend the way some of his friends did. By the time he started his fourth, John was feeling it.
“Be careful.” Elizabeth’s laugh faded as he began to drink it. “You’ll get sick.”
“I’m fine.” He smiled at her and set the beer down. The album was over, so he walked back to the corner of the room. “This one’s my choice.”
The buzz was coming on, warming his core and blurring the edges. He flipped through the music until he found the right one. Exactly what he was looking for. Billboard Top Pop Hits: 1967. “This.” He held it up and grinned at her. “You’ll love it.”
“It reminds me of our first night.” She tipped her head back as she laughed. “I’ll never forget you teaching me how to dance.”
Like a magnet to steel, John returned to her. He took his beer, finished it off and set down the empty can. Then he held out his hand. “Miss . . .”
She giggled as she took his fingers. “What are we doing?”
“Practicing.” He helped her to her feet. “Ready? This one’s a swing.” He slid the sofa and chair back to give them room. And like that they were twirling around the living room. Elizabeth was a natural. She could’ve added dancer to her long list of career possibilities.
The next song had something close to a jitterbug beat, and by the time it was over, they were both out of breath, laughing and ready for a rest. “I’ll get you more water.”
“John . . .” She steadied herself, brushing a few strands of hair back from her forehead. “I should go. I’m already late.”
He leaned on the wall so he wouldn’t look wobbly. The beer was hitting him hard. Giving him permission to kiss her the way he couldn’t do if he was sober. His smile came easily. “Just a little longer.” He went to the kitchen, and this time he poured water for both of them. Enough beer. As he handed her the glass he clinked his against hers. “As soon as we finish the album.”
The next song was midtempo. John raised his eyebrows. “ ‘The Twist.’ Come on!” They set their waters down.
“I should go. It’s getting dark out.” Elizabeth’s words didn’t match the light in her eyes.
“You’ll be fine.” He thought about turning on the living room lights, but it was better this way. The night sky giving them their own personal dance hall. Music filled the room and they twisted until John’s dizziness sent him straight into her arms. “I twist better with you.”
“John . . . are you drunk?” She laughed again, but didn’t seem worried.
“On you.” He worked to keep from slurring his words. The song was ending, which was a good thing. John didn’t feel like twisting. The next track was the reason he had picked the album. The first notes and Elizabeth’s eyes found his.
“ ‘Never My Love.’ ”
The air between them changed. The laughter faded, and in its place came a passion that—if they were honest—had been there all along. Just beneath the surface. John held her so their bodies were slightly closer than before.
When the lyrics began he sang them straight to her, like the music had been written for them alone. “You asked me if there’d come a time . . . when I’d grow tired of you. Never my love.”
She began to sing, too.
But then the words died on their lips and they stopped singing. He swayed with her but the dance was no longer the point. John wanted to kiss her more than he wanted his next breath. Here in the living room. The two of them with the lights off and only a dim remaining sliver of daylight filling the air. Just one kiss.
He felt Elizabeth move still closer. The song played on around them, only now John could feel her soft breath. Just one kiss. His lips found hers and the moment lasted longer than he intended.
He caught his breath, but then he was kissing her again. Another time and another. The buzz made him feel like he was floating. Or maybe it was Elizabeth making him feel that way. He was tilting, swaying. Already he couldn’t think straight. If they didn’t stop . . .
“Elizabeth . . .” He took a step back. All he wanted was to be in her arms again. “You have to go.” A ribbon of fear worked its way through his desire. He needed to get her home. Needed to get a grip.
“Yes.” She sounded certain. It was time to go. But she came to him and this time she started the kiss. After a minute, John no longer knew the name of the song playing in the background. There was Elizabeth and only her. She took a moment to breathe and her eyes found his. “But . . . you’ve had too much to drink. You can’t drive.”
“I can’t?”
“No.” She kissed him again. “I’ll sleep on the couch. And you can take me in the morning.”
His lips were on hers once more. “You . . . you have to call Betsy.”
“Okay.”
He was swaying again, the drink still having its way with him. “Here.” With unsteady steps he led her to the couch.
They both sat down, and as if he was helpless against gravity, he lay down and stretched out. She did the same. “You have to go to your room.”
“Yes.” He meant to sit up again. He wanted to sit up. But he wanted to kiss her more. Kiss her here, lying beside her. They fit so well on the sofa, his body against hers. “I have to go.”
They kissed and after a minute she whispered, breathless. “Go, John.”
“Okay.” His lips moved over hers. “Goodnight, Elizabeth.”
They were the last words he said for a long time. He kissed her and kissed her again and he could feel his hands finding their way to places they never should’ve gone. Ten minutes passed, then twenty and John felt like it was a dream. The most wonderful breathtaking dream.
The next thing John knew it was morning.
He and Elizabeth were lying tangled up beneath a blanket and she was asleep. She had never called Betsy and he had never stopped. Never gone to his room. And in that instant a realization hit him. One that would haunt him every day for the next year. For the rest of his life.
In a moment of weakness he had ruined everything.