Keohane, G. - Solomon's Grave

The rapport between them still felt strong, but they each were more confident in themselves as individuals. They talked of events in town over the years, who was still around and who wasn’t. Conversation never dragged, never became uncomfortable. If any sore spots were hit, Elizabeth was quick to change the subject with a quick, “Let’s change the subject” preface. That was one attribute which had not changed about her. Elizabeth O’Brien was never one to mince words.

They were seated at adjacent corners of the small table, much like they’d been in the break room. It was how they’d always sat together at restaurants. Tonight they fell naturally into their respective positions, no uncomfortable hesitation. The food was delicious. It always was. Seafood always tasted fresher in a New England restaurant. Everything in Florida tasted shipped in . A fallacy, he knew. The state was surrounded by ocean, after all. When he mentioned this to Elizabeth, she laughed, and told him food always tastes better at home.

She fell quiet then. Nathan assumed there would always be lingering pain, a sense of loss somewhere in her. It was a place he might be able to fill. He chided himself for being too optimistic. Revel in her company , he thought, and make no assumptions .

He said, “I saw Josh at the store last night. You two still keep in touch?”

She shrugged, “Not as much as we used to.” She took a bite of her scallops. Nathan could feel some other shoe hanging above her answer, so he waited. Finally, Elizabeth looked up and, blushing, said, “We dated for a little while. Did you know that?”

She never broke eye contact, wanting to catch his reaction. A weight dropped into his stomach. He started to speak, stopped, broke a piece of fish off with his fork but did not lift it to his mouth. “Um, no,” he said finally. “No, I didn’t know that.”

Why didn’t he know? How could he not have? Josh never said anything about it. Never!

“Well, it wasn’t like he was sneaking around behind your back or anything. You and I weren’t...” she caught herself and stopped. This was a dangerous moment. Elizabeth put down her own fork and laid a hand on Nathan’s. His arm twitched, but when he realized that he had almost pulled his hand away, he turned it palm-up and closed his fingers around hers.

“Sorry,” he said, not sure what he was sorry for. Unfamiliar pangs of jealousy. It was a strange feeling. More than once over the years he wondered if she was dating, serious about someone else, and this same stomach-turning, dry-throat panic would hit him. Not as strong as this moment, having to face the reality so directly.

She said, “I’m sure he kept it quiet because we were never sure if anything would come of it.”

Nathan looked at her, willed himself to be rational. Still, the idea of Josh and Elizabeth being together felt like... betrayal. “I’m being selfish,” he said, “feeling like I am right now.”

Elizabeth smiled that wide, real smile which always—this moment included—made him feel special for reasons he could never fathom. She squeezed his hand and whispered, “Yes, Nate. You are being selfish.” With her free hand she held her thumb and forefinger close together. “Just a little. If you were in his shoes, you’d have stayed quiet, too.”

He wasn’t sure about that. But not being in that position, he accepted it. “What happened? I mean, why did you stop?” He had to force the words out.

Elizabeth speared another scallop with her fork and chewed, her eyes looking sideways. Finally, she said, “We both....” She never finished the sentence, instead speared another scallop and popped it in her mouth.

“Both what?” he said.

She signed, finished chewing, then waved the fork between two fingers for emphasis. “Both... decided it wouldn’t work out. Let’s leave it at that.” He didn’t think that was what she was going to say, but let the answer be. Elizabeth released his hand and punched him hard in the arm.

“Ow!”

“Oh, stop complaining and eat your veggies. They’re good for you.”

And that was the end of that. The remainder of their meal continued amiably. Elizabeth asked about his parents. Finding himself in a somewhat more somber mood, he talked about his father’s situation, the uncertainty around the men’s club. He struggled to keep the growing emotion from his voice.

Even with her many whimsical adventures during their childhood, Elizabeth had always been the practical one. She suggested he simply pay the Hillcrest Men’s Club an uninvited visit. Granted, his father would be upset, but he sounded upset already based on their phone conversation. Nathan nodded his agreement, thinking he could use his new role as pastor as a viable excuse for the visit. Learn more about local town groups and such. No one would buy the line, but it gave some rationale other than merely checking out his father’s new friends. He told her it would have to wait until the following week. Hayden’s last service as pastor was tomorrow, and then Monday he was leaving. Too much to do at the church until then.

Perhaps because the conversation finally led to the subject, they talked about his new job, moving closer now to more fragile ground. She was genuinely interested, though, especially when he mentioned the fainting spell. He had to tell her. She’d hear about it eventually. Nathan used the opportunity to explain about the strange dreams he’d had, though did his best to downplay their impact on him. Sitting with her in this place, finishing their meals and debating on whether dessert was really such a good idea, these issues didn’t seem worth dampening the mood any more than had already been done. He was content for the moment, and wanted to remain so.

Apparently, so did Elizabeth, since she accepted his noncommittal shrug when she pressed the issue, and moved onto another topic.

The evening eventually wound down and he drove her home. During the fifteen minute trip from the city they talked some more, but they were approaching the inevitable goodnight portion of the date. Both wondered about the next step.

When they stood on her front porch, Elizabeth didn’t offer to have him come in. He wouldn’t have accepted anyway. This particular date felt over. God willing, they had plenty of time.

Nathan took her hands in his and said, “Thanks. I had a good time.”

“Me, too.”

There followed a brief moment which, looking back on it later in the quiet of the living room above the kitchen, Nathan could not successfully recall. A moment between her reply and the ensuing kiss. He must have crossed the two feet separating them, but he did not remember doing so. He was simply there, kissing her, realizing how new it felt, how comfortable. It ended with a prolonged embrace. Try as he might not to say anything to break the moment, he eventually pulled back and said, “I’ve always loved you, you know.”

He winced when he said it, but once spoken, he could never take the words back. He didn’t regret what was said specifically, as much as feel it was the wrong time to say it.

Elizabeth still knew him better than anyone, even after all this time. She had proved that more than once since their reunion at the nursing home. At his proclamation, she smiled and laid a hand on his face.

“I know,” she said, then gave him a pat on one cheek. “Good night, Sweet Prince.”

She opened the front door and stepped inside.

“Good night,” he said, and turned to leave.

Her voice stopped him mid-stride. “Are we still going to go on dates like this when you become the official Grand Poobah over there?” She nodded her head in the general direction of the church.

Her implication that his feelings for her might, in some way, be reciprocated lifted a hundred pounds off his shoulders. He almost laughed with the joy of it. “Absolutely. Just remember I’ll be pretty much on call twenty-four-seven starting Monday.” He shrugged embarrassedly.