Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews and alerts to this story! You make me want to write faster! LOL
I also have to thank the amazingly talented Sunkisz for helping me out. You'll have to thank her for me posting this chapter, because my muse decided to go on a short vacation and she was the one who tracked her ass down and drug her back! *giggles*
Last, but not least, I have to take a minute to remind you about the Eric & Sooks, Summer of '69 Contest. Yes! It did end last night at midnight, but now it is up to everybody to finish it out. Voting will soon be opening up for us to vote on our favorites! Updates from authors, their profiles, and community threads will have a posting of when the voting will open.
This is the link for all the submitted stories to the contest.
www . fanfiction .net/community/Eric_n_Sooks_Summer_of_69_One-shot_Contest/72143/99/0/1/
Please, Please, Please, find some time to head over and read these amazing stories if you haven't started too already! I am completely overwhelmed with the amount of talent on this site and these submissions will not leave you disappointed. Please read and leave the authors a little review. Reviews are groovy love, and with the amount of hard work and dedication that these lovelies put into their submissions... they need lots of LOVE!!
Okay.. enough of my rambling... I'll meet you on the flip side!
"Gran, really - it's no big deal. I'm sure that he was just being considerate. Everyone at the factory seemed really nice. I don't think Eric offering to carry my uniforms or helping me into the car was anything more than being a gentleman," I wearily explained as I walked into the farmhouse.
Just as I had imagined, Gran was relentless with her nonstop interrogation of 'the handsome man', meaning Eric, since we made our way out of the factory driveway. She was wearing me out mentally and apparently not satisfied with any of the answers I was giving her.
Not ten-seconds later, I heard the creak of the screen door open and the shuffle of Gran's pumps on the linoleum. "See Sookie, that's just it. You keep referring to Mr. Northman as Eric. Only in casual relations do you address someone so informally." Gran's voice was now sounding sterner than during the ride home.
I audibly groaned at her implications.
"Just humor an old woman for a minute. You know gossip is what we do best after all." She had softened her tone now apparently aware that speaking venomously towards me would get her nowhere.
With my back still to her, I heard the amusement in her voice. She knew that I always playfully bantered her about how her and her friends would sit around and talk about the town's latest gossip over cards. That group of woman could tell you more about the town and the people in it than the Census Bureau and the Ypsilanti Post put together. And just like Gran, they were relentless in finding out information. If they couldn't manipulate people into just handing the juicy gossip over, they instantly became a group of Sherlock Holmes mock investigators - stopping at nothing until they got what they wanted.
I sighed knowing that she had won. She would never let this go no matter how much I tried to blow off the fact that Eric had caught her attention. "Let me get us some iced tea and we'll talk. Go make yourself comfortable and I'll be right in." Gran didn't say anything in return, but I heard her make her way from the kitchen to the carpeted living area. I honestly didn't understand what all the fuss was about. Sure Eric was very handsome and polite, but I was certain that his courteousness was an outward expression of welcoming me. I added some fresh strawberries to the tray of two glasses of tea and made my way to the living area.
Gran had settled into one of the wing-backed chairs in front of the over sized window we were so fortunate to have. I remembered the day that Gran had insisted we 'make some good out of a tragedy' when my brother, Jason, had accidently batted a baseball through the small rectangular pane of glass. Instead of replacing it with a standard size, farm house window, she spent extra money to have a floor to ceiling window installed. Gran loved the sunshine just as much as I did, which is why two chairs had been placed in front of it, allowing us a wonderful place for afternoon reading and conversation.
I sat the small tray down on the round table that separated the chairs, and took my seat across from her. She must have sensed my nervousness as I took a sip of my tea, because when she spoke, it was gentle and loving. "I love you sugar. I don't always mean to pry or push you; it's just that I've been worried about you for so long."
I knew exactly where this conversation was headed and I quickly steeled myself for its harsh emotional impact. "Gran please," I stated with as much begging in my voice I could muster.
"No, Sookie. It is time we discussed this, you and I. We have skirted around this topic for far too long and I'm afraid that if we let any more time pass without airing this, it will become detrimental to you and your future." This time Gran spoke with complete conviction and authority. This was it - there was no way I would be able to seek refuge in my bedroom without her chasing after me. I knew that I would have to listen - no matter the pain, hurt, and anger I was about to endure. The only thing that I could do to feel a little more safe was to advert my eyes from hers and hang my head; watching my hands fidget with one another.
"I know that Sam was the most important thing to you in your life…", she paused searching for her words, as I started to feel the tears gather in my eyes and the tug at my heart at just the mention of his name. No one was allowed to say his name out loud. Only I could - only I could say his name as I spoke privately to him while looking at his picture or while sitting next to his grave. Now Gran was saying his name with little hesitation and out loud for the house to echo his familiarity once again. How could she? After all this time, she knew that was my name. It was for me to cherish and lock away and keep secret from sharing it with the rest of the world. Tears fell one after another onto my lap and hands, yet she continued.
"Sam was important to us all. He held a special place in everyone's heart that he met. He was giving, loving, and loyal. He treated you with the highest respect, and I knew that he would always take care of you. But Sookie, Sam was also a free spirit. Why do you think he enlisted to serve his country? His loyalty towards others moved him to feel a sense of duty to his country. His sense of wanting to always protect drove him to not just want to protect you all the time, but others around him as well."
The tears were falling faster and my breathing was slowly turning into gasps, yet she pushed forward.
"Forgive me as too being so bold Sookie, but do you not at all find it selfish to keep his memory to yourself?"
Instantly my head shot up and the anger seemed to roll off me in spades. Tears streaming down my face and jaw clenched. How could she ever say that? I was selfish? The man I loved died when our country chose to take him away from me. The country took my fiancé. What about my pain? What about my future? And just like that, it hit me. How many times had I used the words 'I' and 'my' over the last year? Maybe Gran was right, but I was in no way ready to admit that. Instead, I dropped my head back down, waiting for her to continue.
"I don't mean to cause you further pain, sugar. I just need for you to listen and try to understand where I coming from. Like I said, Sam was a free spirit. He loved life and what it represented. For you to keep his memory locked away - is like locking Sam up in a closet. Others loved him too." Gran's voice made a cracking sound at the last remark and I knew without a doubt that if I were to look at her right now, she would also be crying. I couldn't deal with her pain on top of my own, so I stayed in my current position.
"I know that you hide in your room as often as you can because you are afraid of confronting the outside reminders of Sam. I know that you talk to his hidden picture every night and that on some nights you cry yourself to sleep. I know that you loved him fiercely and I suppose you still do in a way. But he is not yours to keep Sookie. A person is never property of another. Just as you would never want to be a kept woman; he would never want to be a kept man. Let him go, Sookie. You know as well as I, that he would never be happy with you for the way you've segregated yourself from living. Never forget him - but let him go. Let Sam be loved by others, and let yourself be loved by others as well."
With that, I lost it - literally lost it. The harshest, soul wrenching sob flew from my body and I shook uncontrollably. Tears were washing over my cheeks in blankets. The pressure around my eyes and temples was tremendous causing a reaction in me to place my hands on the sides of my head and push. My thoughts were consumed with the phrase - "Never forget him, but let him go"- playing like a broken record; a painful chant echoing like the sounds being screamed from a mountain top. The pain in my chest was unbearable. Was it possible to die from a broken heart? Every locked up memory of us came flooding in, and with every memory came another gut-wrenching sob and convulsion. Gran had slipped from her chair and was kneeling in front of me. I could barely feel her weathered hands on my knees and could just make out a slight noise in the background.
A year and a half - that's how long it took for my Gran and I to have this conversation. A year and half of avoiding any mention of Sam- a year and a half of walking through the motions of living, yet not paying attention to life- a year and a half of undeniable pain that I had eventually inflicted upon myself. A minute and a half was all it took for Gran to crack the foundation on which that anger and pain stood. A minute and a half to reach in to the very depths of my soul and force me to deal with all that I had avoided. A minute and a half to change everything - even without me knowing to what extent.
How long I had rocked myself back and forth in my chair I have no idea. Only the throbbing, dull ache in my head and chest told me that my body had worked hard on purging its grief. My tears began to slow and at some point, the memories of Sam did as well. I began to realize that the noises in the background where a soft hum coming from Gran. She never spoke the entire time I gave in to my pain. Instead she stayed with me, offering what I needed most - a little room to let go.
Eventually, I felt Gran pat my knees, get up, and walk out of the room. I turned my head to look out the window and watched the sun slowly make its way over the horizon. I loved the way that day gave way to night; the way the sun scattered its rays in the atmosphere and how the atmosphere responded by reflecting an array of colors. The way night creatures instinctually knew it was their time to rise and go about their daily lives. The way plants took their daily break from making food. It was metaphoric and beautiful to me the way I processed the natural world going on around me at this moment. I was witnessing life - breathing, habitual, living life. Gran had been right on so many levels. Sam was a free spirit and he loved all that he was a part of and surrounded by. I had no right to keep his memory away from that. His life needed to be celebrated and shared - not mourned. Even though I had come to a monumental breakthrough today thanks to Gran, I knew that my pain was not a light switch to be turned off and on at will. But I also knew that I felt a sense of peace and realization that I had not felt in over a year.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
I awoke the following morning feeling rejuvenated. Maybe even with a new sense of purpose. I wouldn't say healed, but I would say that I felt better about things. As much as she angered me yesterday, Gran knew that it was time to air my grief, and like always, she was right. I was going to try as best as I could to move forward, and live for Sam - as he had lived for me and others.
I dug through the stack of uniform clothing that I had deposited on my dresser, and picked out a pair of pants and shirt. Bridgette had given me enough uniform combinations to last six days. I didn't exactly think that was a normal amount with the ration going on, but I wasn't complaining. I slipped on the cadet blue-twilled cotton slacks, and noticed that they actually fit pretty comfortably. They were snug across my hips and opened to a straight, wide-bottom leg. When I had finished buttoning up the same color and fabric short sleeved shirt, I noticed that my breasts made themselves quite apparent and was making it hard for me to button the shirt all the way up. Damn! These things were always causing trouble! I quickly discarded my shirt and slid on a small, white, cotton camisole and replaced the button up back on. I had to leave the top two buttons undone, but the way the cami peaked through the top, it added a nice feminine touch to the uniform. The fabric was still taut across my chest and the rest of my shirt was just small enough to make my waist visible once I tucked it into my pants. I threw on a pair of white cotton socks, and covered them with my brown lace up loafers. Now for my hair; I usually just pulled it back into a ponytail, but I had noticed during my brief walk through in the plant - most of the girls covered their hair with a turban. I decided that I would take one with me just in case, and opted to throw my hair back in the elastic band. I was scheduled today to be off the floor and in training, so I didn't think it would matter if I just wore my hair pulled up.
Gran was already up and had breakfast ready for me when I made it to the kitchen. "It's awfully early for you to have made breakfast, Gran."
She looked up from her monthly issue of Reader's Digest and smiled. "Why, today's your first day of work! What kind of grandmother would I be if I didn't make sure her grandchild was properly feed to start the day off right?"
I responded with a smile of my own and quickly walked over to her sitting at the old, wooden dining room table and gave her a big squeeze. "If this is the type of greeting I'll get every morning, I'll make sure you always have breakfast before you leave," she grunted out from the lack of room her lungs were able to move under my tight hold.
"Thank you", I whispered into her silver hair. "Thank you for everything." I knew she would understand what I meant by that without having to elaborate. She patted my forearm, with a silent 'your welcome'. With that, I walked away and made myself a plate of eggs and ham. I poured myself a cup of coffee and went to sit next to her at the table. We sat in silence with just me eating and her reading. It wasn't until the sequence of chimes from the Grandfather clock resonated through the house that we actually stirred. I quickly cleaned off my plate and placed it in the sink. Thank God for General Electric who helped make our little farmhouse more modern and efficient.
"May I go outside and wait with you?" Gran asked while grabbing my clutch for me. Deep down I really didn't want her too. I knew that she only wanted to see Eric again and I really didn't want to have one more interrogation to come home too tonight. But I knew my Gran - there would be an interrogation whether I wanted one or not! Reluctantly, I agreed and we both made our way to the covered front porch.
Eric was extremely prompt. Seconds before the deep wine and cream colored car pulled into the drive, I heard another sequence of chimes from inside the house - Seven-thirty exactly. A man who kept his word definitely scored points with me. I turned to my Gran, gave her a quick peck on the cheek while grabbing my clutch from her hands, and made my way down the stairs to his car. Much to my surprise, Eric had got out and was now waiting for me with the front passenger side door open. I gave him a genuine smile and he in turn did the same - only adding a slight little bow to me at the same time. I had to admit, it was nice seeing him act this way towards me still. I'm not sure why he was, but I liked it. I had to try to hide my giddiness of the car itself. I had always wanted to ride in a convertible, but never had the opportunity. Of course the top was up right now, but I secretly hoped that Eric would put it down on our return drive home this afternoon.
As I slid my way onto the leather seats, I noticed that two other occupants were in the rear - an instant flame of jealousy coursed through my body. I had no idea where it came from or why it was ignited, but I did not like seeing two other females sitting back there. It only seemed logical that Eric would surround himself with beautiful women. He was gorgeous, successful and apparently had money from the obvious fact that I was sitting in a two year old Ford Super Deluxe Convertible. Because of where I had grown up, I was raised to know and covet all Ford models. Henry Ford had breathed life into Detroit and surrounding areas making himself a well respected man - thus, so were his creations.
I stole a glance back at the two gawking strangers. What were they staring at? And why the hell did both of them have devious smirks on their faces? Did I have egg on my face? Subconsciously I wiped my hand around my mouth just in case I did. Eric had made his way back around the car and slid in next to me. My, this bench seat was much smaller than it looked when I first got in. His right leg was a matter of inches from mine. I made a quick mental note not to shift to quickly so as not to brush up against him, but the note never got stored away in the 'things to remember' file of my brain. It was the brown hair girl's voice that startled me and I spun around only to have my leg tug up onto the seat and settle nearly on top of Eric's. I stiffened and silently held my breath. I knew Eric felt my panic and he did everything to… Well, he did everything to make the situation worse. I wanted to slap the smug expression off his face. Then he had the nerve to place a hand on my calf that was now flushed up against his leg. "I love the way you say good morning, Sookie," he coyly said as he tightened his grip once, before moving his hand back to the steering wheel. I heard a faint giggle coming from the back seat and all I wanted to do was scream or cry. The intense feeling of embarrassment threatened to take me over. I knew my face and chest were red and my heart started to race. I felt like I was going to go into complete panic attack mode in five-seconds.
The brown hair girl tried to speak again. "Sookie, is it? Don't mind Eric. He's always trying to ruffle someone's feathers." With that she playfully slapped him on the shoulder. "And don't mind us either. I'm sorry that we giggled, but the look on your face was priceless. But, that's no way to start off introductions, forgive us. I'm Amelia and this here is Eric's cousin, Pam." Pam was the complete opposite of Amelia and now that I was really looking at her I could see the family resemblance. While Amelia was dark haired with dark brown eyes and petite, Pam was blond, blue eyed, and much taller. Both girls extended their hands for me to shake and I soon felt the tension in my body release.
The three of us made small talk all the way to the factory. I found out that Amelia lived on Ford Lake down the street from Eric and Pam. Her father was some sort of wealthy construction manager for upper class homes and even some businesses. Pam's story was even more interesting. I found out that she was Niall's daughter and was living in one of the wings of his large lake home with her new husband. I also found out during this conversation that Eric lived next door to Niall in an elaborate home of his own. Eric however, never embellished with details surrounding his living arrangements and I wondered why. In fact, Eric never once said anything during the short duration to the factory. Every once in a while I would catch him looking at me, and he would lightly smile, but nothing more.
The drive was quick and soon we were pulling in to the employee parking lot. I opened the door and pulled my seat forward to let the girls out. Eric had made his way around to my side just as I was doing so. "Why didn't you wait?" He asked in a somewhat hurt voice.
"Wait for what, Eric?" I questioned. Pam and Amelia had slid out and were now walking past Eric and towards the building when I shut the car door.
"It is proper for the man to open the door. Why didn't you wait for me? Did I upset you with my actions in the car earlier when I touched you?" He insecurely asked.
It finally dawned on me that he thought he had did something wrong and was now questioning himself. Yes, he did catch me off guard and I did feel awkward earlier, but I definitely wasn't mad at him. "No, Eric. I'm not upset with you. I'm sorry that I didn't wait. Honestly, I'm so used to doing things for myself and by myself that I tend to forget my manners and how to act around some people."
"Some people?" He asked
Oh, God. Why did I always open my mouth and just let things fall out. What's worse is that it just comes naturally around him. I didn't want to respond with my answer, but I couldn't come up with a believable lie fast enough - so I went with the truth and prayed he would drop it afterwards. "Men," I said quietly while looking away. "I guess sometimes I forget how I'm supposed to act around men." Why the hell did I keep talking to him? It was like Eric was a perfume bottle of truth serum and every time he spoke, it sprayed out of him causing me to just speak what was on my mind. Shit - I needed to get away from this man and fast. Without looking, I shuffled past Eric as fast as I could without it looking like I was running (when in fact I was). I heard Eric pick up his own pace, and before I knew it a large hand had wrapped around my wrist causing an electrifying sensation much like yesterday's to work its way through me. I froze wondering what he was doing. He slowly spun me to face him and gently placed two fingers under my chin, lightly pushing my head up towards his. I opened my eyes only to be met with an intense cerulean stare. I couldn't break free from it. He drew the very breath from my body with his eyes and firm hand. It had been so long since I had felt anything like this, and yet, at the same time, I never had. Finally, Eric spoke low and sincere. "You never have to feel uncomfortable or unsure around me. I would never judge you for the things in your life that make you who you are right now in this moment. I like who you are and I hope you never feel ashamed of that."
I was trying so hard not to cry again. After last night's talk and now this stunning man telling me he liked me and my many flaws - how could I not be on the verge of tears? One little betraying droplet had clung to my bottom lash, threatening to fall - but it was Eric who carefully plucked it from its perch with a swipe of his thumb.
"Come now," He said tugging on my wrist and speaking with a new found excitement. "You know how I feel about being punctual." I knew he was trying to lighten the mood and for that I was thankful. An emotional moment with a man I barely knew, but had some strange effect on my body was a little too much for me to handle this early in the morning. I lightly smiled, and might have skipped a step or two, as we made our way into the building.
I wasn't sure where I was supposed to go for my training, so Eric offered to show me before he headed up to his office. He explained to me that he was one of the Project Manager's that oversaw the productivity of the lines and production of assembled components of the Bomber's. I noticed that we had been walking under a large mezzanine for a while. I asked Eric what was up there and he pointed to an office just behind were we had walked under. He explained that all the Project Manager offices were located up there and the one he had pointed out was his. He also stated with a leer in his voice and side smile that he would be very close to me for the next two days because we were approaching my training room. I was actually glad of that, but kept that piece of information to myself. At least I would be by someone I knew if I needed them. In fact, it was nearly at the bottom of the stairs under the mezzanine. The entire outside wall was glass windows which Eric explained was for safety reasons. The windows made it easy for managers to walk by and watch the training going on. He said that he had even had to interject himself a couple of times, because the Trainer was allowing a mistake to repetitively happen.
Just as we made our way to the room, Eric reached out and grabbed my wrist once again - only this time it was tighter and more demanding. He forced both of us to stop abruptly and he let out a low growl. I was wondering what would cause this type of reaction in him. "What? What is it, Eric? Why do you look like you want to kill someone?" I asked anxiously.
Eric stood stock still, with a glare in his eyes I had never seen before. After a few seconds, he growled out, "Bill Compton."
*dodges flying tomatoes being thrown*
Okay... so I know that I told a couple of people that Bill would probably not be in this story, but I just had to put him in! *giggles* Just please trust me, all will be well....
