Elizabeth moved silently through the upstairs hallway. Leaning against the door frame of her parents' bedroom, she took in the emptiness. Closing her eyes, she overlaid the image with what had once been there. Her parents' king sized bed with the soft blue comforter and giant white and navy pillows, the walnut vanity where her mother sat each morning and applied her makeup, the matching wardrobe where her father hung his suits because closets were in short supply in the old farmhouse.

She drew in a stuttered breath as another layer of memory was added to the scene. Her father sat on the end of the bed, leaning down to tie his black leather dress shoes, Her brother, Will, laid across the bed on his stomach, his attention focused on the handheld game he clutched tightly. The incessant beep of the game was silenced only when their mother came rushing out of the bathroom. "Will, turn that godforsaken thing off. It's driving me crazy."

"Let me just finish this level," he muttered, and then sputtered, "Hey!" when their father plucked the game from his hands.

"Time for school," he said. "Go get your sister."

Will rolled off the bed and Elizabeth's memory dissolved. She blinked her eyes and took one last look at the empty room and made her way downstairs. As she descended, the sounds of all of her aunts and uncles in the kitchen became sharper. They laughed and joked, and with each step, Elizabeth's chest tightened. She conceded that it had been five years since her parents died, and she supposed that keeping the farmhouse forever was unrealistic. But, still, the sorting and packing that occurred this weekend was so much harder than she'd anticipated. It hurt even more that no one else seemed to share her pain. To them, they were unloading a burden, a property that needed to be tended to, taking their attention. To her, the farmhouse was her very being. It was her last foothold on her life as it once was. She stepped off the bottom step and slipped around the corner before any of them noticed her, and she headed toward the back door.

Her breath caught in her throat when she saw her father's long, wool coat on the top of a box of clothing to be donated. Elizabeth shook her head. She couldn't let that go too. She plucked it from the pile and pulled it on before stepping out into the brisk February afternoon. The deck boards creaked as she walked, and even though she pulled the heavy coat around her small frame, the wind whipped, and the cold seeped into her when she sat on the top step.

She was oblivious to her physical discomfort, focusing on the farm spread out before her. There stood the stable where the horses, long since sold, were kept. She could still capture how she'd felt when her first horse, Shadow, had been unloaded. Her father's eyes were alight when he saw how happy his daughter was.

She'd spent so many hours in the corral, riding the meadows, learning to jump the low hedges and gates that her father set up in the back pasture. Then, one day her parents just didn't come home. The horses were sold, and she and Will were shuttled off to boarding school.

Perhaps it was for the best. Elizabeth didn't know if she would be able to return to the school and each day be faced with the picture of her mother hung in the front hallway, "Teacher of the Year 1984."

Instead, she pushed the hurt down deep and made the best of boarding school. She was valedictorian, a field hockey standout, Student Council President. No one there knew. She started fresh, and made a new life for herself, stuffing the old into a tiny space deep in the recesses of her heart.

When Elizabeth had returned to Charlottesville, to attend UVA, some of that old life crept back in, old friends who knew, people she'd run into in the grocery store who were acquainted with her parents. They would stop and ask how she was getting along and, of course, inquire about Will and Joan. Elizabeth would smile politely and answer that all was well. Will was a senior in high school or, most recently, a graduate and freshman at Columbia. She shared that Joan was still as feisty as ever and couldn't exactly be sure of her whereabouts as she was on some sort of goodwill African expedition. The last time she'd received a letter, Joan was in Khartoum, getting ready to head out into some backwoods place where there were no roads or toilets, much less phone lines or a post office. Everyone would smile and say it was nice to see you and then they would part ways. Elizabeth would always hold it in while in their presence. But sometimes, at night, when the pain built to an intolerable level, she would make sure her roommate was asleep, and only then, would Elizabeth curl beneath the covers and let silent tears fall.

This weekend though, almost everyone was back. They emptied the attic and the basement and had discussions about who was taking what and what was trash and what could be donated. Of course, Will had found a reason not to come back. He said he didn't care about any of the stuff and people could do whatever they wanted. Typical Will. She sighed and suddenly felt cold as a gust of wind brought her back from her thoughts.

Elizabeth shoved her hands in the coat pockets and when her hand wrapped around a small folded piece of paper, she was simultaneously elated and devastated. She didn't need to see it to know what it was. Elizabeth ran her thumb over the creases in the paper, folded carefully into a tiny envelope shaped parcel.

Ben Adams loved quotes. When he found anything that resonated with him, he jotted it down. Then he'd fold the message, origami-style, into a box or envelope or kite shape and stash it somewhere to find another day.

As soon as she was old enough to read, Ben stashed little notes for her to find. Sometimes they were just simple notes, like "I love you" or "Have a good day." Other times, they were nuggets of wisdom to help guide her. "To have a friend, you must be a friend" or "Do a good deed" had been found tucked in her lunch box or school books on occasion.

Elizabeth sat in the freezing cold, holding one of those notes. At the time, they had been trivial, and she read them, smiled (or occasionally rolled her eyes) and then dropped them into the trash. Now, in the wake of ridding themselves of the last of her parents' things, this tiny note seemed exponentially more valuable. Slipping it from the pocket, she stared at it. It was small, only an inch and a half long, but it was a special one, with a pull tab. When tugged, the whole letter would open. Gently, she picked at the tab and tugged, careful not to rip the aged paper. Her eyes scanned the words, said in her head by her father. "I've never met a situation where I don't have a choice in the matter." Elizabeth read and reread the words. Immediately, she wanted to argue. She thought of several situations in which there was no choice. If an avalanche was rolling toward you, you try to get out of its path. If you're working at a store and someone robs it, you give them what they want. Even as the scenarios rolled through her mind, she could hear her father's words. "Not so fast, Euclid. Sometimes the other option isn't desirable, but it is a choice. Sometimes the only options seem to be bad, but they are still choices. You just make the best decision you can with the knowledge you have."

Elizabeth pursed her lips as the back door opened, letting the voices inside escape. She knew it was Joan coming to say that she'd spent enough time alone and that she needed to join the group. Elizabeth glanced at the piece of paper and was ready to tell Joan that she'd always have a choice in the matter.

— ∞ —

Henry McCord pulled up to the old farmhouse, tension radiating through his body. Elizabeth's Aunt Joan had called about an hour ago and asked if he could come out. She just said that Elizabeth could use a friend and gave him directions. He was flummoxed by the call and wondered why Joan would think calling him was a good idea. It was true that he and Elizabeth had been dating, but when he asked her to be his girlfriend, she turned him down. She said they were better as friends and that she wasn't interested in pursuing anything more than that, with anyone. That was a few weeks ago, and even though he didn't think they had ended their friendship, Elizabeth hadn't returned any of his calls. He didn't want to admit how much that upset him. It was pointless to dwell on how much he liked her, when she obviously didn't feel the same way about him.

He parked and noted the number of cars that were already parked, ten, one being Elizabeth's, beat up Datsun. Henry climbed out and made his way up the sidewalk,to the front door and knocked. No one answered, so he cracked the door and poked his head inside. "Hello?" he called, stepping over the threshold. The front room was empty and only a few boxes sat in the middle of the room on his right, an office he presumed.

Joan came rushing around the corner. "Henry! Thanks for stopping by." She looped her arm around his and nearly dragged him down the hallway. Truthfully, if she hadn't announced herself, Henry wasn't sure he would've recognized her. He'd only met her briefly, more than a month ago, and by accident, he was sure. If Elizabeth had known that he would be waiting tables at the Chinese restaurant, he was sure that she never would've chosen that place for dinner with her aunt.

Henry didn't have much time to dwell on that thought because instead of stepping into the kitchen where everyone was gathered, Joan tugged Henry the opposite direction to stand in the mud room. Henry looked around, confused. "Mrs. Adams," he started, but Joan cut him off.

"Joan, please. I know this is a little unorthodox. I don't know you well, but Elizabeth needs someone to be with her right now." She gestured toward the back door. When Henry looked out, he saw her sitting on the top step of the deck.

"I don't think I'm anyone she wants to see," Henry said, his voice taking on a note of sadness.

Joan frowned, remembering how Elizabeth's face lit up when she talked about her new friend, Henry. Given that it had been years since Elizabeth ever spoke of any friend, much less a guy, Joan was sure that Henry had finally cracked Elizabeth's tough exterior and that there was hope for a future for the two of them beyond friendship. Given the way Henry looked, this wasn't the outcome he had been hoping for either. Joan squeezed his arm. "Maybe she just needs someone to be there for her at the right time."

— ∞ —

Elizabeth waited for Joan's call, but it didn't come. Instead the deck boards creaked as someone approached. Elizabeth tensed. She didn't know if she had the patience to deal with any of her family members and their well meaning sentiments. She bristled and looked in the opposite direction when the board sunk down next to her. They sat in silence for a long while and finally words filled the air.

"Rough day?" the voice asked.

Elizabeth whipped around to face Henry. " What are you? How did? Who?" Her questions shortened as her confusion increased.

Henry propped his elbows on his knees and looked out over the farm. "Joan called. She said you might need a friend." He was quiet for a moment and when Elizabeth didn't speak, he filled the void. "This is your home?"

"Not for much longer," she said and she stood abruptly. "I'm sorry that Joan bothered you. She shouldn't have. She didn't know." Elizabeth quickly shoved her hands in her pocket. "You can go around the side of the house and not have to worry about dealing with everyone."

"How about you show me around?" Henry offered, and when Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, he added, "I'm already here." He shrugged before heading off in the direction of the barn.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and willed the stinging behind them to go away. She had no intention of crying in front of Henry. She would entertain him and then slip away herself. Joan would be irate that she left without saying goodbye, but that's what she deserved for asking Henry to come.

"You had horses?" Henry asked, as she stepped through the crack in the barn door. Pushing it shut behind her, Elizabeth turned to see Henry peering at the remaining tack hanging on the wall.

"Yeah," she mumbled, wandering down the center of the barn before veering left and leaning against a stall gate.

"Did you ride or were they just workhorses?" he asked, moving to stand next to her.

Being here was harder than she thought it would be and a lump formed in her throat that she struggled to swallow away. "We rode. I did steeplechase my freshman year. I was pretty good."

"But you quit?" Henry prodded. He had a good idea why, but she'd never really talked about what happened after her parents died in a car accident.

"When they died, Will and I were sent to boarding school. The horses were sold. It wasn't anything I was ever consulted about." Suddenly, Elizabeth pushed away from the gate. "Anything else you need to know, McCord?" Her voice had an argumentative edge and he thought that perhaps it was a good idea to back off, but then the words came before he could stop them.

"I don't need to know anything. The question is really 'What do you need to say?' I can listen. I can be your friend." She stood with her back to him and he saw the slight shudder. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and hold her, tell her everything would be alright, but he didn't dare.

When she turned to face him, he saw fire in her eyes. "You don't want to be my friend. You want more. More than I'm willing to give. You should go."

"I'd rather have only your friendship than have nothing at all. We don't have to be more," Henry replied.

"You'll always want more. You'll always have it in the back of your mind, that maybe, just maybe, there's a chance. It will ruin your opportunity to find someone else." Her voice grew louder and he knew she was looking for a fight. She wanted some viable reason to push him away. Henry shook his head. He wasn't going to make it that easy.

"I'm sure you think you're the only one who can compartmentalize their feelings, but I assure you that's not the case. Besides, if I were to choose to not find someone else and keep hoping that you'd come around, then that's my choice. I always have a choice."

Elizabeth took a staggered step back. Her jaw dropped and she looked like she'd been punched, the color draining from her face. "How'd you know?' she whispered, shoving her hand into the pocket of her father's coat.

Henry took a step forward and quickly took her by the arms, fearing that she may pass out, "Know what?" he asked. When she pulled the piece of paper from her coat pocket, she stared at the words. 'Elizabeth?"

"My father. I found this today." Henry leaned a little closer and read the note that she held.

"Maybe he's trying to tell you something." Henry stepped away. "I say choose the option that gives you the best chance at happiness." Leaving her standing in the barn, he turned and left.

— ∞ —

Elizabeth didn't know how long she'd stood in the barn, but the sun was getting low in the west when she closed the barn door and made her way to the house. Everyone was still gathered in the kitchen and the dining room sitting on cardboard boxes, eating slices of pizza off of paper plates. Joan met her at the door. "Where's Henry?" she asked.

"He went home," Elizabeth said, refusing to further discuss the topic with Joan. She let her father's wool coat slide off her arms and back onto the pile by the back door, but she tucked the piece of paper into her jeans pocket. Slowly, she made her way into the kitchen and picked up a plate and a piece of pepperoni pizza and joined her family.

It was well after midnight when Elizabeth slid the key into the deadbolt and pushed open her dorm room door. She dropped her purse on the desk and her coat was thrown over the back of the chair. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she kicked off her shoes before flopping backwards.

"Hey, you ok?" came the drowsy murmur from across the room.

"Sorry, Jen. I didn't mean to wake you," Elizabeth whispered.

"It's no big deal. How did it go?" her roommate asked.

The streetlight filtered in through the slats in the plastic window blinds. Elizabeth turned to look at her reflection in the mirror. She felt like she'd been completely turned inside out emotionally and she was exhausted. She turned back to Jen. "It's done. Everyone but Will was there and they made quick work of the task."

"But how about you?" Jen pressed.

"I'm fine," Elizabeth lied. "I'm going to get ready for bed. Sorry to wake you." Elizabeth slipped from the room and went to wash her face and brush her teeth. Back in her room, she was stepping out of her jeans when she stuck her hand in the pocket and felt the scrap of paper inside. I've never met a situation where I don't have a choice in the matter. Her father's words in her father's voice, played on repeat, in her mind.

Elizabeth crawled under the covers and laid there, willing sleep to come. Her father's words caused her to mull over everything she thought she knew. After Henry left, his words had forced her into the farmhouse one last time to spend time with her family. It was hard, but she'd found herself enjoying the camaraderie and the banter between her aunts and uncles and listened to stories she'd never heard before. Begrudgingly, she admitted to herself that she felt closer to her parents than she'd felt for a long time.

Then her thoughts turned to Henry. They met at a Student Activities function. He was the organizer. She'd volunteered to help. She immediately gravitated toward him. Henry had an easy going way about him and that goofy smile that set her at ease. Religion had never been one of her priorities, but the way Henry spoke so passionately about his saints and how religion had a hand in history and politics, she'd found herself standing in the theology section of the bookstore, skimming her fingers lightly over titles.

When she'd mentioned that she'd looked at a couple books, he lit up like a Christmas tree and asked if she would let him fix dinner for her. That night after pasta, he led her to a small bookshelf that was packed with books. He told her that she could borrow anything that she liked, but when she pulled Summa Theological from the shelf and noted the hundreds of Post-It notes sticking out in all different directions, he beamed. For the next two weeks, she brought him questions every afternoon in the library and he answered and asked more of his own.

On the third week, Elizabeth found Henry with a copy of A ConciseHistory of Mathematics by Struck and she grinned. Henry was not a mathematician, but stepped out of his comfort zone to learn about what she loved. It was after a movie and greasy Chinese food that night that she leaned in and kissed him. When Elizabeth pulled back, Henry's cheeks were flushed pink and he grinned sheepishly. Carefully, he brushed a few stray hairs from her cheek and tucked them behind her ear. He whispered, "You are a beautiful person, Elizabeth Adams," and then he kissed her in such a way that it stole her breath and made her heart pound in her ears.

It was a few weeks later that she'd been eating dinner with Joan at Hunan's that Henry emerged with a stack of newly washed plates for the buffet table. When she saw him her expression instantly softened and Joan noticed. Henry approached and she introduced them.

She thought about how embarrassed she was that night, not because she was embarrassed by Henry, but by the way that Joan had cornered her about him. There was a good reason to keep her private life private from her aunt. She gushed over Henry's good looks and that he was planning on going to the Marines and that they made a fine couple. Elizabeth brushed it off until Henry asked her to be his girlfriend the following week.

Now, dating someone is one thing. Making out with someone is one thing and perhaps even wanting to sleep with them, all one thing, but girlfriend? That was a step toward having a permanent relationship that Elizabeth didn't envision for herself. It wasn't that she didn't like Henry, because she did, very much in fact. But, she'd been on the receiving end of love being ripped away and had no desire to travel down that road ever again. Henry insisted that it was fine, they could remain friends, but Elizabeth saw that look in his eye, the one that said he would forever be hoping that she would change her mind. She couldn't do that to him. He needed to fully understand that it wasn't ever going to happen. Elizabeth thought that she'd made that clear. Then Joan called him to the house.

His comment about compartmentalizing hit a little close to home. And then what he said about choices paired with her father's note, unsettled her deeply. Was taking a chance on a relationship with Henry worth the possible loss if it didn't work out or if, God forbid, something happened to him?

It was true that Elizabeth had felt deep loss when she refused Henry, and then again and again when he called and she purposely let the answering machine take his message. "Hey, Elizabeth. It's Henry. There's that bingo and board game tonight at the Union. I hear they're going to play Scrabble. What do you say we go beat the pants off everyone? Winner gets a case of ramen noodles. Just let me know." There were a handful of those light hearted messages, nothing like a date, no funny business, yet still, she didn't answer him. But she didn't erase the messages either. She listened to them over and over, wanting to hear his voice, lamenting what she wished could be.

She huffed and rolled over to squint at the clock. 3:30 am. There was a choice that was made, but in her fear and desire to protect herself from being hurt, she'd made the wrong choice, and she knew it. The real question was, would Henry accept her apology or would he now refuse to see her? It would be a fair response. She would understand. She'd brought it on herself.

The longer she laid there, the more agitated she got. At 4 am, Elizabeth slid out of bed and pulled her jeans on and grabbed a sweatshirt. Shoving her bare feet in her Keds, she picked up her purse and jacket and left the room.

It wasn't until she was sitting in front of Henry's apartment at 4:15 am that she realized what a bad idea it was to come. It was still the middle of the night and he would be sleeping. She was in the middle of berating herself for being so dumb when the door to the building opened and a man stepped out. Wearing a stocking cap, sweats and a puff jacket, he bent and started stretching.

Elizabeth watched for a moment and when she was sure it was Henry, she climbed from the car. At the slam of the car door, the man's head whipped around and watched her walk up the sidewalk. It wasn't until she was close that he spoke. "Elizabeth? What are you doing here? Oh no! Is something wrong?" Before she knew what was happening or could respond, he'd gathered her and rushed her inside. He quickly unlocked the door and ushered her in.

"What is it?" he asked, his face contorted into worry.

"I'm sorry. This is dumb. I shouldn't have come like this. I just wanted to tell you how I was wrong. I just haven't been able to sleep and it was nagging at me and I didn't realize what time it was, and I interrupted your run and," she would've continued to ramble on but Henry put his finger on her lips to silence her.

"It's ok. I haven't really been sleeping well. I was just going on a run to pass time since I wasn't sleeping." He stepped closer. "Can I take your jacket?" She nodded and Henry took it and hung it on a hook near the door. "Come and sit."

Elizabeth sat on one end of the couch and Henry sat on the other. When she couldn't stop wringing her hands, she tucked them under her legs. "I did a lot of thinking tonight, and I was wrong."

Henry raised his eyebrows in question, but he didn't speak. He could tell that she was struggling and he didn't want to interrupt her.

"I was scared and I made what I thought was the only choice. But my dad reminded me today that there is always more than one choice, some may just be harder or, in my case, riskier." She scooted to the middle of the couch and placed her hand on Henry's knee. "If you're still willing, I think I'd like to try the friends, dating, girlfriend thing. I miss you so much and I want you in my life."

Henry covered her hand with his own. "I think I'd like to try that too. They sat quietly for a moment and the adrenaline ebbed away leaving them both exhausted. "It's late, or early," he laughed softly at himself. "Why don't you go lay down on my bed and I'll take the couch? When we wake up, I'll make you pancakes and we can talk about all that happened this weekend."

Elizabeth shook her head and Henry thought that she was going to insist on going back to the dorm, but instead, she cupped his cheek, pressed her forehead to his and murmured, "How about we just go cuddle together and fall asleep and you make me pancakes when we wake up in the morning?" She stood and held out her hand for him to take. When he did, she pulled him to his feet and moved close enough to have his body pressed against hers. "I'm sorry," she said, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug..

He stopped her. "Don't be. You have valid reasons, but I want to be there for you. You don't have to do the hard things alone." He pressed his lips to the top of her head and then stepped back. "We also don't have to rush things. I'm a patient man. I can wait until you're ready." He wrapped his hand around hers. "Come. You look exhausted."

It was only minutes later that she and Henry lay in his tiny twin bed. She was on her side and Henry's chest was pressed to her back. His even breaths and tiny puffs of air hitting her shoulder told her that he'd already fallen asleep. She thought about her mother and father and prayed to Henry's God that someday they would share a love as deep as her parents had.

I've never met a situation where I don't have a choice in the matter. She vowed that she would keep her father's words close and live her life as he did, always learning and loving freely. Having made this promise to herself,she was finally able to relax and drift off to sleep.