AFTER
For each man in his time is Cain
Until he walks along the beach
And sees his future in the water
A long lost heart within his reach
And all I ever needed was the one
Like freedom feels where wild horses run
When stars collide like you and I
No shadows block the sun
"The One"
Elton John
May 10, 1952
Ogunquit, Maine
Chuck woke slowly, the whiteness of pure sunlight gleaming from every surface in the room. The walls, the drapes, the bedspread, the sheets, the pillows…it was like he was floating on a cloud, like a beam of light from heaven.
He was surrounded by Sarah's scent—on the sheets, pillows, and even his skin.
But he was alone in their bed.
He lifted his head, lazily scanning the room. The bathroom was empty. The drapes were open, moving in the ocean breeze, revealing the glass door to the patio, where the sunlight had gloriously entered. The desk chair was draped with clothing—Sarah's pink nightgown over his clothing. Or…just his pants, he noticed. His shirt was conspicuously missing.
He rolled, still groggy, reaching for his pajamas, still strewn on the floor. He donned his pajamas, then rose and stumbled to the door, drawn there by a compelling force at work in his sleepy head.
His view was clear. He could see all the way to the beach. Sarah was a tiny dot, all in white, seated on the shore, her long blonde hair streaming in the breeze. Her posture was relaxed, her hands behind her and her legs stretched out in front of her, her knees bent. She was wearing his shirt from last night.
He supposed he could have started to worry, wondering why she was alone on the beach while he still slept. Instead, his heart was light, feathery, unsinkable.
He opened the sliding door the whole way, walked across the patio, and descended the stairs that led to the sand. The mid-May morning air was fresh and crisp, cool but not chilly. Chuck could smell the salt from the ocean as he walked along the damp sand. The tide was going out, the foamy waves now at a considerable distance from where Sarah was seated.
How long had she been out here?
He couldn't recall a night when he had slept as soundly as last night, as peacefully or deeply. Holding Sarah in his arms, exhausted from their lovemaking, he had drifted to sleep, sinking into slumber like submerging in a tranquil pool. He woke in the same position in which he had fallen asleep, on his side, never once rolling in his sleep. She had not woken him by rising; he thought she must have taken great care to let him sleep and not disturb him.
His approach didn't startle her. She turned her head, smiling at him over her shoulder. Her golden hair was gleaming in the sun and her eyes sparkled like sapphires.
"Good morning," she said, her voice sultry and sweet all at once, an undertone of intimacy that made his breath catch.
He felt the rush of heat run through him when he thought of last night. In the dark, he had only felt her. Seeing her now somehow made it seem more real, less dreamlike in his head, more substantial in his experience. He walked to her side and sat beside her. She leaned towards him and kissed him, shifting her weight against his body, again underscoring their new intimacy. She seemed to have been waiting for that intimacy as long as he had.
Still leaning on him, she said, "I woke up and I realized I wanted to watch the sunrise. But I didn't want to disturb you. It feels like a new day…a new life. I thought it was…fitting, you know?"
He thought of the gleaming white sunlight in their room, how he had risen, feeling baptized in that light. He had awoken to a new world as well. One they now shared.
"I was extra quiet so I wouldn't wake you," she added. "You looked so…peaceful. Beautiful…although, I know, that might sound strange. But it's true. It's how I see you."
She shifted her eyes to the horizon, but then back to him, like there was no difference between the glorious scenery and his face.
He wrapped his arms around her, holding her against him. There were so many words crowding his mind; he couldn't pull from the jumble to start anywhere specific. She spoke instead, leaning back just a bit.
"Can you tell me how it's possible that you never slept with Jill?" she asked, ending the silence. Her voice was relaxed, unchallenging, more curious than upset.
Her question shocked him, but he knew this conversation needed to happen. Four years of wondering and worrying, of not speaking about any of it, had worn them down, made them less than they should have been.
Chuck sighed. "This conversation should have happened a long time ago. Maybe if it had, things would have been different. Maybe if I would have explained myself at your party instead of…hurting you the way I did."
Sarah turned her head, facing out to sea, and said in a voice so quiet it was almost overpowered by the sound of the waves, "She told me you were sleeping together."
Her words hit him like a fist. "What…what…what do you mean?" he stammered. Jill and Sarah had never met, never spoken, as far as he was aware.
Chuck listened to Sarah swallow, almost feeling how painful and dry her throat must be. "I called you…right before I left…for school," she said. Her voice faltered, the last two words sounding strangely disconnected from the ones before. "In August of '50. Three days before my birthday."
The summer he had stayed in California, Sarah had called him every other Sunday…until Bryce was drafted. When Bryce had left Massachusetts in early July, Sarah had stopped calling all together. Chuck still got letters, at least one a week, throughout that entire summer. "You called me?" He had never spoken to Sarah during that time.
Sarah scoffed, shifting away from him slightly, though not breaking contact with him. "I should have known she never told you. That was why you never called me back," she said, her epiphany happening as he listened.
He searched in his memory, thinking of the August to which she was referring. Three days before her birthday would have been a Thursday. Why would she call me on a Thursday…after so many weeks of not calling?
"Someone answered…like usual. There was a pause…and then… she came on the phone. She said she was your girlfriend…and asked who I was," Sarah explained.
He felt her tense, her muscles growing taut beneath his arms.
"She never gave me the message. I never knew you were waiting for a call from me," he explained. His anger stabbed at his insides like a hot poker.
"Once I told her who I was…she…well, she told me I should just leave you alone. That you and she were serious about each other. Very serious. Spending-the-night-together serious," Sarah repeated, her voice heavy, like Jill's words still caused her pain.
"Damn it," Chuck cursed, his blood boiling. How dare Jill say those words at all, let alone to Sarah. And then intentionally keeping it a secret from him. "I'm so sorry, Sarah," he added, his voice softening. "I never knew any of that or I would have explained."
"She did…spend the night in your dorm room, though, didn't she?" Sarah asked.
He felt the skin on his face and ears start to burn, the heat of his embarrassment flushing him. He reminded himself, as awkward as this conversation could be, she needed to hear it. They both did, if they had any hope of escaping the past, leaving it behind to forge a better future together. He pushed past the awkwardness, telling himself this was Sarah. They could tell each other things, talk to each other. The barriers between them were on their way down, falling slowly and steadily. He could help that along.
"I'm not proud of myself or how I acted during that time…but yes, she did. I wasn't…innocent…about any of that. But we never…went all the way. She had a term for it. Technical virginity. One very…specific line…that she wouldn't cross," he said.
She was still tense in his arms but she nodded. "I guess that would have described me…for most of the time I was with Bryce. I didn't know that was what I should have called it."
He held his breath, waiting, wondering what else she had to say.
"It was only once. Bryce and me. Right before he shipped out for Korea," she admitted, her voice thin. "Before that, it was just us…touching. Probably like what you did with Jill."
He wanted to be honest with her, but somehow divulging every gory detail to Sarah about his time with Jill seemed wrong and hurtful. Touching, yes, but once they had the opportunity to be alone in his room, in his bed, it became more. More than touching, less than intercourse. Jill's rules acted as an imaginary boundary. At the time he had comforted himself, justified himself, because, technically, they weren't having sex. But where was the line when it came to right and wrong? He and Jill had rushed everything physically. And rushing, without balancing the emotions involved, was wrong. He had convinced himself otherwise at the time, but in retrospect, he knew that was true.
Sarah, on the other hand, seemed the opposite. His thoughts were racing, filling in blanks from the past with his new found information. For two years, Sarah had kept things relatively tame, kept Bryce at bay, despite, or perhaps because of, Bryce's inappropriate public demonstrations. Knowing what he knew now, Chuck surmised Bryce had been so forward, that he had coerced Sarah into acting the way she did in public, in order to give the impression that he was sleeping with Sarah.
Because Sarah was unwilling to go as far as he had been used to with Carina. Sarah's reputation had been damaged, both by her association with Bryce, and her friendship with Carina. It was unfair, but it had happened. Damn it, he had even believed it, when he had known her better than anyone.
If only she had talked to me! His words echoed inside his head.
She's talking to you now, he reminded himself. He couldn't let his distraction and his ire cause her to stop sharing what was in her heart, her experience.
"Tell me…about your first time, Sarah," he requested. She looked at him, her eyes full of questions. "I need to hear it. And I think you need to tell me." She looked away again, back out at the sea, but gently nodded.
"It was…awful," Sarah cried. "I was drunk. Not as bad as I was at my birthday party, but bad. In his car. I didn't know it was going to happen…until it just…happened…it was happening. It hurt so much I started to cry."
Hearing about Jill lying to Sarah, lying to him, had fueled his rage. Hearing about Bryce coercing a drunken Sarah into having sex left Chuck incensed. He clenched his jaw, tasting blood as he accidentally caught the inside of his cheek between his teeth. But he did his best to hide his emotions, wanting her to tell him everything without interruption, without fear or embarrassment.
"I don't want to make him out to be a monster; he wasn't. He was nervous himself…scared. Desperate. He was leaving to go overseas and fight a war. I was trying to…comfort him. He told me he needed me. We just got..carried away. I should have told him it was my first time. I thought it went without saying…considering we had been dating for two years. He asked that afterward, why didn't I tell him. Although, I know, he thought all that time…I had been with you before. Carina told him about me climbing in your window, although out of context…not the way that sounds now. He just…" She choked, swallowing hard again, her voice weepy. "He got upset…that I bled on his upholstery and he didn't know how he was going to get it cleaned before he left…"
Chuck's whole body was trembling, rage and sickness battling inside him at her words. He pulled her closer, comforting her.
"That was the last time I saw him. I was at his house the first time he called his mother from Seoul. I got two letters from him. I sent two back. I don't know if he ever got the third one I sent…or if he read it or…," she gulped, swallowing painfully. "The next week his mother got the telegram."
"I'm so sorry," he whispered in sympathy.
After a long pause, the only sound was the crashing of the waves on the rocks and the crying of two seagulls in mid flight. He asked, "Why did you call me? You know, when Jill answered the phone."
She stiffened in his arms, trembling. She was breathing faster, heavier. He could feel her heart beating against his ribs where she was nestled. "I was…upset. I didn't want to leave Worcester." There were tears in her voice, restrained, as she added, "I wanted…to hear your voice. You could always make me feel better. Just by talking to me." She gradually relaxed against him, the tension ebbing and her breathing slowing.
"Jill was so jealous of you, Sarah," Chuck explained. "She never told me, but I know she would read the letters you sent me when she was alone in my room sometimes. I guess, deep down, she was right about me…and how I felt about you. It doesn't change anything, or excuse what she did or how she did it."
"She didn't appreciate you," Sarah said with a quiet certainty. "She thought you were…malleable. That she could make you into whatever she wanted. That isn't love. It isn't even friendship."
"We both made the same mistake, in a different kind of way," Chuck explained. "Settling for something…because what we wanted seemed…impossible."
"It wasn't fair to Bryce…or Jill…no matter how…awful they both ended up being," Sarah added. They sat in pondering silence. Seagulls wheeled, waves broke on shore and returned.
"Can we let all that go?" he asked, smoothing the hair on the back of her head. "Not let that haunt us anymore? Forgive ourselves and each other?"
She snuggled closer to him, and he felt her nod against his chest.
"Did she…teach you…how to…you know…" Sarah asked him, her voice deep.
"Maybe a bit," Chuck admitted. "But don't forget, I got the whole spiel from Casey. Diagrams…like the Normandy Invasion."
Sarah laughed, easily and heartily. He couldn't help but laugh too when he heard her. "That's a picture I will never erase from my mind," she chuckled.
When her laughter calmed, she added, her eyes fixed on his, their blue endless. "I had no idea…that it would be, could be…like that. Last night."
He kissed her then smiled. "All kidding aside," he said, looking down at her, knowing his eyes were warm with love. "I know you, Sarah. I know your noises, the way you breathe. It wasn't just about the…physical aspects. It was about how we feel, how much we feel."
She kissed him again, wrapping her arms around his neck, nodding her heartfelt agreement.
"Can I ask you something else?" she added after another long pause. He nodded.
"Why didn't you sleep with Jill? I mean, I know what you said. Technical virginity and all. But why…why such a rule? From what you said, she was technically doing what Carina was actually doing. Right?"
He thought again about Gertrude's words. What had been in Jill's heart was unclear, but especially in the beginning of their relationship, she had thought less about him than what it was they were doing together. He had never thought of it that way, but Sarah was right. Jill had been with him for two years, and accepted a marriage proposal from him, but he had meant very little to her. So little that she had cheated on him with someone else, although still keeping her technical virginity intact, in a place in the library where she knew he would see her. That had been the hardest to accept. That she had wanted to hurt him, planned to hurt him.
"I guess that's true. What we were doing, what she was doing, was safer I guess. I mean, getting pregnant before she had her degree would have been the end of the world for her. That was worse to her than even just being pregnant and unmarried," he said.
He had been rambling, thinking about what Jill had done to him, not fully noticing Sarah's reactions. She went rigid, worse than at any other time he could remember. Even under the suntan she had gotten yesterday on the beach, she was pale. Her face was downcast, her eyes averted, frightened.
It hit him like a lightning bolt.
Pregnancy.
Sarah had only slept with Bryce once…but she had gotten pregnant. He felt like he had shifted outside his body and was looking down at himself, holding her on the sand. It took a long time before he felt like he was back in his body again. Oh…God.
Half of his brain was calculating, figuring out how that could be true. Bryce had left in July of 1950…and died in October of 1950. Chuck had been in California the entire summer.
But what had happened? The possibilities terrified him.
It's my daughter's story to tell, Jack's letter had said. Shaw's blackmail had to be tangled up with it.
It was why she was so afraid to tell me. In his own way, even in what he had just now said, talking of Jill, he felt he had made it worse, like he was casting judgment on Sarah.
She had seemed almost about to tell him, but she had faltered, after his careless babbling. He had to let her tell him on her own, regardless of what he had figured out.
He looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time. His heart ached in his chest. However it had happened, she had suffered an unthinkable loss. He pulled her against him again, the pain flaring as he felt her stiffen, murmur. He hushed her, though she wasn't outwardly upset other than her tension. He silently offered his support and compassion, willing her to understand all of the meaning behind it, his acceptance.
She eventually relaxed against him, saying nothing else. Time seemed to stand still as they sat watching the waves as they slowly crept outward with the tide.
"How about some breakfast?" Chuck asked after a long time, centering himself again in the moment, reclaiming the light, feathery feeling he'd had upon waking. It was a new day.
"I'm starving. That sounds great," Sarah replied, her distress from before now forgotten, carried out by tide.
He thought about the day and the night…about his hopes and his dreams…the past, the present, and the future. He knew there was a storm brewing, somewhere beyond the horizon.
But he would worry about it when he had to, and not a moment before.