Read Ripples Through Time Online
Authors: Lincoln Cole
Beth smiled a little.
“I was like: ‘What’s so funny’ and then I saw Calvin. He was
wearing the most expensive suit I’d ever seen. He was confident, but I could
tell by his eyes he was also scared. I couldn’t breathe with the whole stadium
and all my friends watching.
“Calm as anything Cal gets on his knee and looks up at me.”
“What did he say?” Beth asks.
Emily snorts. “No idea. I fainted.”
Bethany couldn’t help but laugh.
“When I finally woke up they had me off the track in the
barn with a wet towel on my forehead. Everyone was standing around looking
worried, especially Calvin. He asked me if I hit my head. I said ‘yes.’
“So he started shouting for a doctor, and I was like: ‘no
dummy, I mean yes I’ll marry you.’”
Beth smiled. “Was he happy?”
“Thrilled. He was jumping up and down.”
“Were you happy?”
Emily’s smile faded. “Of course. I was in love. Stupid in
love. Marriage is hard. No doubt about it. It starts with love, but it ends
with commitment. Sometimes you should stop wondering if you would enjoy making
babies with somebody and ask yourself if you can live with them. If you can
respect them. If they can respect you. If down the road they can and will take
care of you.”
Beth nodded, still looking at the ground. “Are you trying to
tell me I should say ‘yes?’?”
Emily shook her head. “Not my choice to make. I don’t have
to live with it the rest of my life. And make no mistake, it is the rest of
your life. It’ll always be with you.”
“I know,” Beth said. That’s what terrified her.
“He came by last week. Asked your father for permission.”
“What did dad say?”
“I thought they might have a fist fight in the living room.
Men.”
Beth could picture it. She half smiled. “Men,” she agreed.
“But they talked for a few hours and Cal relented. Adam’s a
good man,” Emily said with a shrug. “Good enough, I suppose. And he adores
you.”
Beth didn’t reply.
Emily stared at her. “But I guess ‘good enough’ isn’t what
you’re looking for.”
“It’s not that I don’t…”
Emily nodded.
“I’m just not ready.”
“Life doesn’t wait for you to be ready,” Emily replied.
“What do you mean?”
Emily smiled at her. “This is a hard decision. Don’t make it
too quickly. If you aren’t sure, then tell him to wait. If he’s honest about
loving you, he will. If not, then you have your answer anyway. But I know
what’s bothering you.”
“What?” Beth replied.
“When you pictured your wedding day, you never pictured him
as the man in it.”
Beth was silent, unable to disagree.
“I’ve known Adam since he was little. I know he loves you. He’d
die before hurting you or letting you get hurt, and that means a lot. A lot
more than you will ever understand.”
“Okay.”
“He’s offering you his heart. I’d think twice before
sticking a knife in it.”
“I don’t want to…”
“I know, honey,” Emily said, coming forward and wrapping her
daughter in a hug. Beth felt small and young. She felt her mom shudder and
sniffle. “It’s not an easy decision. But I need you to know something.”
Beth pulled back to arm’s length. “What?”
“No matter what happens, no matter
what,
we will
always be there for you.
Always.”
“Okay.”
Emily shook her head. “I mean it. No matter what, your
father and I will always be there for you.”
Beth nodded. “Okay.”
Emily pulled her tight again, squeezing her.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, mom.”
Beth didn’t cancel dinner.
She still wasn’t sure what her answer would be if and when
Adam popped the question, and the achingly slow passage of time until Adam came
to pick her up didn’t help any. She just found herself worrying, thinking
through every possible scenario, every horrible eventuality. Would he hate her
if she said ‘no’? Would he forgive her?
Did she even want to say ‘no’?
That was her initial reaction. Her gut response to the
question. But that was mostly because she hadn’t given it any thought. She
wasn’t
prepared
to have a response. She was—in her estimation—too young
to give that question serious thought. She’d only dated one other man before
Adam and felt like she was supposed to experience more before settling down.
But the more she did think about it, the more difficult she
realized the question was. She had dated Adam for four years. Enough time that
she’d become comfortable with him. She enjoyed knowing he would always be there
for her, no matter what.
And her mother was right. He was good to her, and he clearly
loved her. But that didn’t change the fact that Beth had always visualized a
fairy-tale wedding somewhere in the distant future. As a young girl, as a
teenager, and now as a young adult, marriage was always something to look
forward
to. When did the future become
now?
How hadn’t she seen this coming?
She was busy, of course, with school and life. And worrying
about Jason, of course, especially in the last few days. Adam had gone with her
to pick up Jason without hesitation. He must have been planning to ask her even
then, but he hadn’t said a word about it. Hadn’t given any hints.
He’d dropped everything to make that trip. He had finals to
study for but hadn’t complained once. He’d even let Jason stay with him for at
least one night in his dorm room. He was willing to go to the moon for her.
How could she tell him ‘no’?
Her mind was still muddled when Adam picked her up. He was
dressed nicely, clean-shaven and handsome in a tan polo shirt and dress pants.
She had decided on a simple blue dress and only the lightest touch of makeup.
She was worried that if she started crying, the makeup would run, and preferred
looking natural now to ending the night like a clown.
“You look beautiful,” he said, even though she knew she was
anything but. She looked like a nervous wreck in the mirror.
“Thanks,” she said as he helped her into the car.
Something on her face made him hesitant to talk. They drove
in silence without even idle conversation. Beth felt a little nauseous during
the trip; it was only a few minutes to reach the restaurant but felt like
forever.
They had a table reserved in the back-right corner of the
restaurant, and tonight it was nearly empty. Soft music from an unseen piano
echoed around them, adding ambience. The tables were black topped and smooth
and the flooring comprised of blocks of white stone. The walls were similar
material, more like stucco, but still quite pleasing.
Adam pulled her chair out for her and then sat opposite. He
ordered them a bottle of wine. An expensive red, even though she knew he didn’t
like red wine. They gave him headaches. But it was a brand he knew she liked.
He smiled at her. She tried to smile back.
“Sorry I haven’t been around for a few days,” he said. “I’ve
been busy.”
“That’s what your brother said.”
He nodded while the waiter poured. She sipped it, not really
tasting anything.
“But I’m glad that we were able to find time to come out
like this. You look lovely.”
“Thank you.”
“And I’ve been meaning to ask you…”
The stem slipped from her suddenly shaking fingers and the
glass fell to the table. Wine splashed onto the black surface and the
overturned glass rolled off the edge. It fell to the floor, shattering.
Adam was on his feet in an instant, moving around to her
side. “Are you alright?” he asked, gently taking her hands to look them over. She’d
splashed her arm—and dress—with the red liquid, but she was fine. Embarrassed,
but fine.
“I’m alright.”
“Damn slippery glasses,” he mumbled, double checking her
arms make sure. He took his napkin and dabbed the droplets off of her skin.
“Excuse me,” she said, sliding from her chair and heading
for the bathroom. She fought the urge to run.
The bathroom was thankfully empty. She took a minute to calm
her racing heart and leaned against the sink. Finally, once she could breathe
again, she washed her face and arms off and reapplied blush.
“Come on Beth,” she muttered to herself. She tried to get
some of the stain out of her dress as well but knew it was a hopeless gesture.
The wine would blemish it with little spots forever. “Stop acting crazy.”
By the time she returned to the table the shards had been
cleaned up and the floor mopped. All traces of the incident were gone. A new
glass stood in its place on the table, filled with only a touch of wine this
time. They apparently didn’t trust her with a full glass.
That was alright. In her state of mind, she’d half expected
to find a sippy-cup waiting for her.
Adam held her chair again and then sat opposite her, a
quizzical smile on his face.
“Is everything okay?”
“Fine,” she said, trying to smile.
“I ordered us both the salmon, is that alright?”
She nodded. They had excellent wood grilled salmon. She
didn’t think she would eat much of anything, but the fish would be light in her
stomach.
A moment passed. “I was going to ask how your finals went,”
he said.
“Oh,” she said, then quickly added: “they went well. I went
back over my Econ notes and I think I did better than expected. Some of the
things I totally guessed on were correct.”
“That’s good,” he said. “I told you it would be fine.”
“What about yours?”
“They went about as expected,” he said. “My English final
was the worst. How the hell am I supposed to write a ten page paper about a
book I don’t understand?”
“What book?”
“Paradise lost,” Adam replied, sipping his glass of water.
“What did you write about?”
He shrugged. “I wrote about how Milton made himself the hero
of his own epic.”
“Hmm?”
“In all epics, like the Odyssey and the Iliad, the author
compares the hero of his story to heroes of old. Like when Virgil compares
Aenaes to Achilles and Odysseus. Except in Paradise Lost Milton compares
himself
to those heroes, not his characters.”
“Oh,” Beth said. “When he invokes the muse, you mean?”
Adam shrugged. “Sure.” Beth couldn’t help but laugh.
“You seem quite convinced,” she said. “Must have been an
easy paper to write.”
Adam blushed and coughed. “I had help.”
Beth nodded. “Jason,” she said. “He used to ask me what kind
of arrogant asshole declares himself the hero of his own story just because
he’s brave enough to tell it. When I told him I didn’t know what he was talking
about, he took great pains to explain it to me. Not a Milton fan. So how’d your
paper go?”
“I just got the results. My professor thought it was a
brilliant analysis, passionately argued. When I told Jason I thought he might
float away his head got so big.”
Beth laughed again. “Where’s Jason been? I haven’t seen
him.”
Adam glanced away. “He…uh…left.”
Beth frowned. “Then when did you talk to him?”
“This morning. Just before he headed out of town.”
The food showed up. The waiter set their plates down and
disappeared like a wraith. Beth leaned back in her chair.
“He didn’t tell me he was leaving.”
“No,” Adam said. “I didn’t think he would. I told him he
should but he just kind of ran out.”
Beth sighed.
Adam poked his fish. “He said he wants to quit using.”
“Heard that before,” she said.
“He told me he means it this time.”
“Heard that too.”
This time Adam didn’t respond. There was nothing to say.
They ate in silence. Beth, despite the anxious worry gnawing at her stomach,
was ravenous. She finished her steamed vegetables and moved onto the fish,
devouring it in a decidedly unladylike fashion.
Adam didn’t speak, but watched her thoughtfully as they ate.
“Something is bothering you,” he said finally. “Is it
Jason?”
“Yes,” she said. It was only partly a lie. “I can’t believe
he didn’t say anything to me before leaving.”
“Give him a chance,” Adam said. “I think he’ll turn around. He
wants to do better, he just doesn’t know how.”
“I wish I could believe that,” Beth said.
“Can I ask you something?”
She dropped her fork. It clattered against her empty plate,
sending reverberations that stopped the conversations around them. A few people
looked over at her and she blushed. She slid her empty plate toward the center
of the table, pretending the noise was deliberate. Then she turned and smiled
at Adam. It felt strained.
He didn’t seem to notice.
“Yes?”
“When did you first realize Jason was using?”
She scrunched her nose. Not the question she was expecting.
Adam misread her confusion. “If you don’t remember…”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I remember. He was
seventeen. Back when his hair was still long. He came home from a party and his
eyes were really red. And he smelled like…well, he smelled like weed.”
“What did you do?”
“I called him out on it. Told him I’d tell mom.”
Adam nodded.
“He just laughed at me,” Beth said. “And told me to go ahead
and tell her. She wouldn’t care anyway.”
“Did you tell her?”
“No,” Beth said. “She would have killed him. In hindsight, I
should have.”
The waiter appeared again, gathering plates and leaving the
check. Adam dropped a few bills on the table and glanced up at Beth.
“Would you like to go for a walk?”
“Sure,” she said. Her nerves were settling now that there
was food in her belly, but she was still nervous. This must be when he was
planning on asking her. It made sense, really, to ask her by the same benches
where they’d talked the night away.
They headed out into the cool night air. He guided her
slowly—and predictably—toward the benches. It was pleasant if a little chilly,
the moon splitting through the clouds to bathe them in its white glow.