All The Way
Chapter 37
The next morning at the Osmond Ranch….
Amorita shook her head, muttering in Spanish. "Ah, Senor Eliot, why are you doing this? Such beautiful hair!" The housekeeper inhaled deeply, sighed, then snipped away at the hair flowing over the professor's collar, careful to avoid the long row of neat stitches along his scalp. Stokes sat stoically in the kitchen chair, lips pursed, deep in thought.
"I'm no good at this." She snipped again, tilted her head, making sure the cut was even. Amorita stopped, leaned forward and caught his attention. "Senor Eliot, your hair, it makes you look….." The housekeeper waved the comb and scissors searching for the English translation. "Your hair makes you look…..vigoroso!"
Eliot's eyes widened slightly at her candid comment. At sixty, Amorita radiated an earthy sensuality. He could only imagine the type of man who would attract and satisfy this warm-blooded woman. She had given him the highest compliment, but his mind was made up. He graciously thanked her for her efforts and disappeared into the bathroom. Once he returned to Maine, he would visit his own barber, until then, Amorita's efforts would suffice.
Looking into the mirror, he began to shave. What a fool he had been! A fool to think Julia Hoffman would be attracted to him romantically. Even Herb had been right as they sat around the campfire. 'So a woman has managed to penetrate the crusty veneer of this confirmed bachelor.' Confirmed bachelor!
Eliot pulled the razor across the end of his moustache. With each stroke and rinse the moustache disappeared along with the delusion he would be anything more than Julia's good and loyal friend.
Leaning toward the mirror, he examined his work, the upper lip now as smooth as his face. He moistened a comb, ran it through his neatly trimmed hair, smoothing it back along the contours of his head until the scholarly Timothy Eliot Stokes stared back from the mirror. It was time to return to Maine and academia. He would pick up his classes, his scholarly life, and resume his life before Dr. Julia Hoffman.
Gripping the sides of the sink, closing his eyes, his thoughts returned to Hallie.
He was lucky; Hallie's parents often arranged for her to spend a few summer week-ends with her uncle. Their special time was breakfast. Still in their robes, the sweet smell of crepes and coffee filling the kitchen, they would plan their day together. Red raspberry crepes dusted with powdered sugar were Hallie's favorite. While eating the warm confection they would laugh and talk.
The morning light filtered through the kitchen windows as they gathered their plates and slipped to the kitchen table. Tenderly, he watched her slender fingers carefully spread the cloth napkin across her lap before turning her large expressive eyes to his. They weakly smiled at each other and picked up their forks. Fruit filled crepes and youthful energy made their time together magical. Hallie Stokes looked down at her plate and listlessly moved her fork through the thick raspberry filling and felt no energy or magic.
He knew why they had no appetite for food or anything else. The previous day they had solemnly stared at two flower covered coffins surrounded by mourners. Standing side by side, their intertwined fingers their only connection with reality, the ceremony, coffins and mourners could easily have been in another dimension, a parallel world.
At the morning table, when they should have been, laughing, talking, planning their day, they moved the streaks of red fruit across the white porcelain and felt the dark reality of how their lives had changed forever.
Eliot watched her fork toy with her favorite food, neither of them eating. Slowly, she turned and looked at him. The blue of her robe brought out the brilliant blue of her eyes, her mother's eyes...Arielle's eyes. His lip quivered, eyes welling with tears. Slowly, he put down his fork, feeling the intensity of her penetrating stare. She had been watching him, seeing the crack in his brave veneer. He had to keep up the show; he couldn't break down in front of her. Her observant eyes trailed over his face, as her lips began to quiver like his. Instinctively his hand moved across the table to cover her slender fingers, trying hard to be strong for her. Tears welled and hung on her lashes.
"Uncle Eliot," she began softly, fighting back tears, "it's just you and me, isn't it?"
Hot tears filled his eyes as Hallie rose from her chair and slipped into his arms, face buried in his chest, she began to sob. Gently, his fingers moved through her hair caressing her head and shoulders, the same way he had comforted her mother so long ago. That morning, over crepes, they sobbed, held each other and grieved.
Hallie's parents were gone from them forever.
"Yes, my darling Hallie, it's just you and me." He whispered, gripping the sides of the sink, head lowered. He tried to visualize the moment at the site when he walked with Hallie and Julia on each arm. He had never been happier. Vigorously splashing water on his face and eyes, he worked to regain his composure. Breathing deeply, he pulled the towel from the rack and dried his face.
Should he tell her he had been with her parents in the other world? Hallie would want to visit her mother and father! No, no! He shook his head vigorously. The thought of losing Hallie in an effort to join them would be too much to contemplate. Eliot slipped out of his clothes and showered.
Later that morning….
Herb sat on the veranda eating oatmeal and sipping tea when his longtime friend walked by. Osmond's mouth dropped open and was speechless. The physical transition to neat and scholarly was unexpected. His friend only needed a bow tie, and three- piece tailored suit to complete the appearance of a college professor. Wearing Herb's khaki pants, plaid shirt and gray sweater seemed a mismatch to his new appearance. The rustic archaeologist with the moustache and ponytail was gone. Osmond lowered his teacup and watched as Stokes moved wordlessly across the veranda and took a seat at the far end.
The morning air was crisp and cool as Stokes stared off at the hills, watching the wind move through the boughs of the giant furs. Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out his battered pipe and tobacco pouch. Turning the pipe in his fingertips, he examined the surgical tape holding the stem and bowl together...the repair and surgical tape was Julia's work. Fondly he recalled how Julia's fingers delicately slipped into his pocket, her fingers gliding along his thigh. Slowly, he turned the stem in his fingers and remembered her dreamy eyes as she removed the pipe from her mouth and placed it in his. He wanted to kiss her then, just as he wanted to kiss her now. He placed the pipe on the table near his chair, and folded his hands together.
He wanted to be more than her friend. He wanted to be her lover. Could he be satisfied if things did not change between them? Would he be content remaining her dear and loyal friend? What other choices did he have? He could leave and resume his life without her. But the thought of a world without her was unbearable, he knew this from experience. When they were separated and he knew Julia was in danger in 1840, the experience nearly drove him mad until he traveled Quentin's staircase to join her.
Herb stood by Eliot Stokes and watched him with the pipe.
"I have an extra pipe and a pouch of Turkish tobacco if you need it." His friend offered.
Stokes slowly rose, shoved his hands into his pockets, while his eyes examined the tiles at his feet.
"Thanks, Herb. But I really don't need a smoke this morning."
Osmond's eyes narrowed. "It looks to me like you're not needing much of anything these days."
The professor looked up and noted the sky, the wind, and the weather. "It looks as though it will be a pleasant day for Hallie's trip from the hospital."
Osmond nervously moved his fingers over his own moustache and grew concerned about the drastic changes in his friend's appearance and behavior.
"Don't give me this superficial weather nonsense!"
Stokes' looked up nonchalantly.
Herb stepped closer. "We've known each other too long, this isn't like you. You're not eating, smoking, drawing, playing your fiddle..er violin, and now you're back to looking like an Easterner. I can understand you're concerned about Hallie, but it's more than that. What's happened?"
Stokes moved his hands nervously inside his pants pocket. "After Hallie has rested I want to return to Maine. I want to leave as soon as possible."
His friend could not mask his surprise. "You're returning to Maine as soon as possible?"
"If you would so kindly ship my camera, journals and photographic work, I will try to recover and reconstruct it and have it ready for my replacement."
Herb crossed his arms, eyes critically examining him. "Of course, Eliot, I will do whatever you ask. The university has decided that the site be closed for a while considering the circumstances. In the spring the site might be reopened for further study. I would appreciate any efforts you can give in salvaging the photographic evidence."
Both men paused, their heads slightly bowed in thought. Herb's mind contemplated what could possibly cause this sudden change in his friend.
"What about, Julia?" Herb asked and watched for a reaction.
Eliot flinched at the mention of her name. "Julia, Dr. Hoffman." He repeated, stalling for time, trying to find an appropriate answer, an answer that would satisfy his friend without revealing any details.
"I believe Dr. Hoffman will do whatever she chooses. I'm sure she has her own plans." Eliot replied without emotion.
"Yes, Herb, I do have plans." Julia replied from the doorway. Both men were startled and behaved like two young boys caught raiding the cookie jar. Julia floated across the veranda like a breeze wearing black slacks and a fitted emerald green long sleeved blouse. Her eyes swept over Herb then settled on Eliot. Her manner was casual, showing no outward signs she had noticed the professor's major physical changes.
She smiled easily, "I couldn't help but hear your conversation from the doorway. As a matter of fact Eliot and I do have plans. I think we need to return to the site and retrieve our belongings and our equipment. As far as Eliot's medical condition, as site physician I can assure the university that I will provide for the supervision of his care. And as for Hallie, I'm sure after I exam her she could rest and recover here while we finalize our plans. Amorita has graciously offered to care for Hallie while we retrieve our belongings."
Herb's eyebrows were knitted together in puzzlement. What was going on here? He turned to watch his friend's reaction.
Stokes' eyes swept over her from head to toe and settled to meet her gaze with equal intensity.
"So you have everything planned do you?" Eliot asked curtly, shoulders squared, chin proudly elevated.
Julia continued to meet his eyes, before turning and smiling sweetly at Herbert Osmond.
"Yes, I do," She answered firmly and turned again to lock eyes with the professor.
Herb knew from years of marriage he was in the middle of something...a battle of wills. He wanted no part of it and felt it was time for another cup of tea from the kitchen. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I think I need more tea. Can I interest you folks in tea this morning?"
"No, thank you," Eliot answered quickly.
"Why yes, if you please. " Julia turned to Herb and smiled sweetly.
Osmond turned and crossed the veranda in a few quick steps, anxious to leave them alone. Amorita had been watching from the kitchen window and met Herb in the kitchen for a conference.
With Osmond out of sight Julia turned to face Eliot. "Yes, I have plans. We have equipment there; we need to tie up loose ends so they can close the site." Julia replied coolly.
"Since when do I need you to speak for me?" Eliot snapped.
Julia elevated her chin, her lip pushed into a determined pout. "I thought it was obvious. We need to return to the site to gather our equipment and tie up loose ends."
"How good of you to think it was obvious! I'm not sure I want anything to do with your loose ends, especially if it involves Richard Carter," Eliot retorted. She should talk about obvious, surely she could not help but notice his physical changes, and yet she said nothing. God, she was the most stubborn and bull-headed woman on earth.
Julia could see the muscles stiffen in his neck, the color rising in his cheeks. She knew he was furious.
"Of course, if you need to return to Maine immediately, I'm sure Herb and I will manage somehow to finish your work."
Julia watched as Eliot's hands slipped from his pockets. His face now a flushed pink and his blue-gray eyes blazed with anger.
"I certainly don't need you to tell me the obvious, my dear doctor and more importantly I don't need you to finish my work!" He snapped, turned on his heel and stormed from the veranda.
As though on cue, Herb nervously brought a cup of tea from the kitchen. Julia turned, smiled and thanked him as her nervous fingers gladly curled around the hot cup for support. Herb sighed deeply and noted Eliot's absence.
"I think that's settled. Eliot and I will be returning to the site as soon as your team is ready."
Herb nodded nervously, not sure if he should ask any further questions.
Julia smiled sadly. "If you don't mind I need some time to think this morning. I'll just sit over there." She pointed to the far seat where Eliot had started to smoke his pipe. Herb followed her gaze and noted the pipe remained on the table near the chair.
"Of course, Julia. I'll be on the phone in my lab if you need anything."
Julia nodded, sat down, and cradled the cup between her hands. Staring at the pipe, her fingers began to shake so; she could no longer hold the cup and had to place it on the table. Without thinking, she reached down and picked up the pipe and placed it between her lips. The softness of the stem reminded her of his kiss. She could hear Eliot's words on the cliff.
"I walked down Quentin's stairs for you. It was more than an adventure, I missed you, I couldn't bare being in our time without you."
She remembered wanting it all to end…..she wanted to slip over the edge and die. His words were like a beacon.
"Julia." He whispered, capturing her eyes with his. "I love you. I don't want to be in this world without you. Please stay with me."
What a fool she had been! Why had she been so blinded by her unrequited love for Barnabas Collins? And Richard Carter, what void did he fill? Why had she been so self-absorbed? Eliot was more than her dear and devoted friend; he was in love with her. But what did she feel, was he more than her good and loyal friend? She would have to look deep within and be honest with herself. She hoped she had the strength and courage to finish what she had started.
~~~tbc~~~