Chapter 4

Jessica leaned out the window of their room; the sun caught her hair, and Seth thought he'd never seen her look so lovely. Excepting last night and today, tonight and tomorrow… She turned to look at him and her face softened. "What?"

"You're beautiful."

"Oh, Seth."

"What, woman? You asked me what I was thinking. That's what I was thinking!"

She laughed and turned back to the window. "Flatterer."

"I hope someday it'll get me somewhere with the ladies."

Jessica laughed even harder, then turned as she heard a knock on their door. "Coming," she trilled. Seth tried to goose her as she walked by, but she side-stepped him adroitly and winked at him as she answered the door.

"Good morning, Jessica! You look like a ray of sunshine this morning."

"Thank you, Chuck. Good morning, Gloria!"

"Good morning!"

Chuck leaned against the door frame. "We stopped by to see if you'd had breakfast yet."

"Not yet," said Seth, and he glanced at Jessica.

"Give us five minutes, and we'll meet you downstairs."

"See you then!"

Jessica closed the door behind them, then turned to lean against it.

Seth eyed her carefully. "I thought you were all ready, woman."

"I am," she said as she walked toward him.

"Then why didn't we go downstairs with Chuck and Gloria?"

"Because," she said pertly.

"Because why?" asked Seth.

"Because this," she said and drew him to her. She broke their kiss after a few pleasurable moments.

"We don't have to go to breakfast, Jess," said Seth, quirking an eyebrow.

Jessica laughed. "We do have to go to breakfast." She kissed him lightly, then turned to pick up her purse and the key from the dresser. "But we don't have to go to lunch. Or dinner," she said, and opened the door of their room.

What you do to me, thought Seth. He shook himself, then followed her out of the room and into the hall.

Jessica was glad she'd been able to make him smile a little this morning. As the time drew nearer to his appointment, he grew increasingly anxious. She reached out to stroke his hand.

"You don't have to do this," she said gently.

He put a hand over hers and squeezed. "A-yuh, woman. I do."

"I'll be right here, Seth."

"That's what I'm counting on, Jess." He kissed her, trying to put all the things he couldn't say into it. When he broke the kiss, her eyes were bright with unshed tears.

She smiled and brushed a thumb across his lips. "Where's your handkerchief?" He pulled one from his pocket; she took it from him and began dabbing his mouth. "Lipstick," she said quietly.

He put a hand on hers. "Leave it. Maybe they'll think I have an exciting past."

Jessica laughed. "An exciting present, certainly." She folded the handkerchief neatly. "Shall I put this in your breast pocket? You already look very distinguished. A pocket square will only increase the air of mystery about you. Along with the lipstick, of course."

Seth nodded and she put the handkerchief in his breast pocket. "There." She patted his chest. "You're all set." He put his hands over hers. "Go on, now. You don't want to be late." He nodded and squeezed her hands once, then made his way to the entrance of the museum.

Chuck, who'd become the de facto CO of their small unit, made arrangements for them to dine at Le Moulin de la Galette. Everyone lingered over coffee and dessert; no one seemed inclined to let the evening end.

"Some day," said Ben.

"A-yuh," agreed Seth. "Did you do the interview, too?"

"I did. Chuck, I caught a glimpse of you as I was leaving. You did it, too?"

Chuck shrugged. "Wasn't so bad. Never been videotaped before. That was a new experience."

"It was a good thing you boys did," said Gloria. "Strange, isn't it? To think you're part of history."

"We're all part of the history," said Seth, looking around the table. "We were here, but you ladies shouldn't discount your experiences at home. You worried over us, worked for us, prayed for us. That's just as important a part of the story." He raised his glass in a silent salute. Each of them raised a glass to him, and they drank in silence.

"Tomorrow will be tough, fellas. No gettin' around it," said Chuck. He signaled to the waiter. "I think we ought to settle up our bill and head back to the hotel."

Everyone murmured their agreement, and the waiter promised to return promptly with their bills.

"Jessica?" asked Ben. He wasn't noticeably drunk, but in the few short days of their acquaintance, Jessica had observed certain behaviors that made her wary and increased her empathy for Millie.

She smoothed her face into a pleasant mask. "Yes?"

"Millie says you're a good bit younger than the rest of us."

Jessica, surprised, glanced at Millie, whose face was flushed. "I was in my teens when World War 2 began," she said lightly. "A bit too young to have a sweetheart stationed overseas."

Seth reached for her hand. "Jessica's husband, Frank, served in Korea. He was a pilot."

"That so?" drawled Ben.

Jessica nodded politely. "Yes. We moved to San Francisco, and I shared an apartment with one of the other wives, just so we could be that much closer those rare times they got leave. It was hard. I can only imagine what you and Gloria went through, Millie."

"I just about cleaned out our town's little stationery store," said Gloria. "I wrote and wrote and wrote. Didn't I, Chuck?"

He smiled affectionately at Gloria. "You sure did. I read every single letter, probably a hundred times."

"It's a shame you didn't write back all that much," teased Gloria. "Did Ruth write you much, Seth?"

"No," said Seth. "I didn't meet Ruth until after the war. I was in residency."

"Oh, that's right! I remember now."

The waiter brought their bills, and the men reached for their wallets.

Jessica smiled fondly at Seth as he glanced at the bill and scrawled his signature. He glanced at her. "What?" he asked, not unkindly.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "Thank you for bringing me here."

"You're welcome, woman," he said brusquely. He was trying his damnedest not to draw further attention to them. He thought they'd managed fairly well, but if she kept looking at him like that, those big, blue eyes sparkling in the dim light of the restaurant, he wasn't sure he could keep from kissing her. She must have read his mind, because she began busying herself with her purse and the light sweater she'd brought. He stood and pulled her chair back for her.

"Thank you, darling," she said without conscious thought, and he was reminded again of how very lucky he was. Lucky to be alive, lucky to have lived the life he had, even with its tragedies, lucky to have a woman such as Jessica Fletcher in his life. He ought to be more grateful, and he knew it.

Jessica turned and looked at him quizzically. "Coming?"

"A-yuh," he said and scrambled to catch up with the others.

The window was open, and Seth watched the curtains flutter in the slight breeze. Jessica was in his arms, and he was drawing lazy patterns along her arm that she'd draped across his chest. He wished this moment could last forever.

Jessica smoothed her hand across his chest. "Is it very hard? Being back here, I mean."

He drew in a long breath, then let it out slowly. "A-yuh. But tomorrow...tomorrow'll be the hardest part, I think," he said slowly.

"You've been restless these past few nights."

He shifted so he could look more closely at her. "I'm sorry, Jess. I hadn't realized," he said.

"It's alright, darling. I only mention it because…well, because it seems like something's bothering you. I know it can't be easy to be here. And maybe…" She was quiet for a moment. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea, Seth. I only mean that…I want to be honest. I want you to feel you can be honest with me. I wonder, I've been wondering, if…well, if some part of you doesn't want Ruth here instead," she said in a rush, raising up so she could see his face more clearly.

She saw tears in his eyes, but he cupped her face gently. "I miss Ruth, of course I do. Just as you miss Frank." Jessica nodded. "But I can't tell you, I don't have the words to tell you how much it means to me that you're here with me, now. That we're together," he said haltingly. "Like this. That you love me, Jess."

She reached up awkwardly to wipe some of the tears from his face. Soon she'd be crying as well. "I do love you, Seth." She traced his dog tags with her thumb. "You don't have to talk about any of it, my darling."

"I told you some, Jess, when we were in Nashville. I can't describe what it was like, not really. The questions they asked me today..." He blew out a breath. "I wanted to tell them, to explain, but it's locked up inside me." Jessica moved so that she could gather Seth in her arms. "I can't talk about it, not really."

"I understand," she breathed in his ear. "You don't have to talk about any of it. I understand, darling. I understand," she crooned.

He tightened his hold on her; he felt like a drowning man clinging to a life preserver. "The worst part was finding out how few of us made it back. That was the worst part. I never felt good enough. I worked so hard, tried so hard, to be worthy of the lives they sacrificed. When I lost Ruth…" He paused for a long moment. Jessica felt his heart beating, perhaps just a little faster than normal. He cupped her shoulders and squeezed rhythmically. "I was so angry," he whispered. "I was so angry with God. Why had He spared me, again? I couldn't make sense of it." He was trembling, and Jessica put her arms more tightly around him. "I walked around in a fog. I wasn't there for Margie, not the way I should have been, not the way Ruthie would have wanted me to be, would've expected me to be. I wasn't there for my patients, my colleagues, my friends. I let everyone down, Jess. I gave into my worst impulses." He was quiet again. "I wasn't a good man," he whispered. Jessica burrowed more deeply into his embrace. "And sometimes, when you look at me the way you do, I don't feel worthy of you."

"Oh, Seth," she cried. She raised up to kiss him, hard. "I never want you to feel that, Seth. Never," she said fiercely. "I love you. I'll be with you always."

"You can't know that, Jess." The moon was bright enough for Jessica to see the somber expression on his face. "We're here now, and that ought to be enough for me. After everything else, that ought to be more than enough."

"You can trust me, Seth."

"There's no one I trust more," he said, but Jessica felt a quick jab of fear. Something was troubling him. Something that went deeper than old memories, deeper even than heartbreak. She hugged him tightly and was relieved when he hugged her back.

As soon as they'd checked into the hotel, Jessica had requested that her navy suit be pressed. It had become habit, now, to dress appropriately for every occasion. Tweedy, frumpy Mrs. Fletcher was gone. In her place was a sophisticated, elegant woman with an extensive, expensive wardrobe. She wasn't personally extravagant, but her new life required proper clothes, and she indulged herself.

Today, she'd planned to wear something simple and elegant. Something befitting today's somber duty. She knew Seth had packed his dark gray suit. I don't want to look funereal, he'd huffed as they were packing for the trip. Nerves. She'd suspected it then, and she knew it now. He'd need her today. Need her to be solid, steady.

She looked at herself one last time in the mirror, then freshened her lipstick. Seth was waiting for her down in the lobby. He'd been too antsy to sit in the room. I'll be in the bar, Jess. Just a wee dram, for medicinal purposes. He winked at her, then kissed her cheek, but she could tell his heart wasn't in it. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. She was ready.

Jessica held Seth's hand tightly. They were back in the Bayeux Cathedral as members of a very special congregation. The morning had begun with a short memorial service and prayer followed by the dedication of a new stained glass window commemorating those men and women who had taken part in the invasion. Jessica stroked the hand she was holding as Seth mopped the tears from his eyes with the other.

She was deeply moved by the presence of the Queen Mother. Well she remembered the newsreels showing the King and Queen walking through the rubble of London, refusing to retreat to the relative safety of the countryside, instead choosing to stay in Buckingham Palace. Such courage, such a symbol of resistance and fortitude. It was an honor to be in her presence today.

The mayor of Bayeux thanked the Queen Mother.

"It is a great privilege to be among you today. Here with Elizabeth, the Queen Mother, who, with her husband, showed such remarkable courage during those terrible days of war with Germany." He turned to her. "Ma'am, I thank you." He turned again to face the crowd of veterans and families. "Likewise, I find it very moving to be among you, today, you who fought so bravely, who freed the world from the grip of Fascism, of Nazism. To you, I can only offer a heartfelt thank you. To your fallen comrades, I offer my prayers to the good God who I am sure welcomed them home after the ultimate sacrifice."

Seth bowed his head, shoulders shaking, and Jessica put an arm around him. She wanted to weep herself, but she took a breath and composed herself. Seth needed her to be strong. Her tears could fall later.

"Jessica. Jessica!"

Jessica stopped and turned toward the voices. "Hello, Millie, Gloria!"

Millie reached Jessica first, followed by a somewhat out of breath Gloria. "What are you doing?"

"I thought I'd go up to the room and change, maybe order room service."

Gloria quirked an eyebrow at Jessica's neutral description of her and Seth's room, but she wanted to spend more time with her, so she let it pass. "That sounds nice, Jessica, but the boys are out tonight. Why don't we go somewhere for dinner?"

"Yes, let's," said Millie, and Jessica squelched the ungrateful thought that Millie was just interested in more gossip. But these friendships were important to Seth; she'd seen that over the past few days. It had done him good to be here, and she hoped this wouldn't be the only time they would meet. She liked Chuck and Gloria well enough; Ben and Millie were a bit more challenging, but—

"I can see the wheels turning, Jessica."

Jessica started. "Oh, dear. I'm so sorry! Of course we can go to dinner. Just let me change. 30 minutes?"

"That'll be fine, Jessica. We'll wait for you here."

The two women watched as Jessica took the stairs rather than the elevator.

The women idled over dessert. It had been a nice meal; Jessica was surprised at how smoothly the conversation flowed. She hadn't felt interrogated at all, and she immediately chided herself for such an ungrateful thought.

"What do you suppose the boys are doing?" Millie snorted. Gloria threw her a look. "Now, Millie. They sowed all their remaining oats the other night."

"Was Seth terribly drunk when he got back the other night?"

Jessica arranged her face into some semblance of neutrality. "Not terribly so, Millie."

"I heard him singing." Jessica raised her eyebrows. "You know your room's not far from ours."

"Nor ours," added Gloria. "Not that it matters. Though," she said thoughtfully, "I wonder if they did it on purpose?"

"Ben asked them to do it," Millie burst. "When he found out Seth and Chuck agreed to come, he rang the hotel and asked them to put us all together. On the same floor at least."

Jessica swallowed. Oh, dear, she thought.

"You're a very private person, aren't you, Jessica?" asked Gloria.

Jessica looked at her quizzically. "I suppose. I think everyone appreciates a degree of privacy."

"Being a famous author, though," began Millie.

Jessica laughed. "I'm not so famous as that, Millie. I go out on book tours, mainly because I enjoy the travel. I didn't always like it, but it gave me something to do, in the beginning."

"Oh?" prodded Gloria gently.

"I was an English teacher at the high school. My husband, Frank, sold real estate." She smiled. "It was a good life. When he died, I didn't know what to do with myself." She gazed out into space, deep in the memory. "That first winter…oh my. You couldn't know about Maine winters. Oh! Snowed in with nothing to do. It was dreadful. I'd stopped teaching after Frank…after. I'd always loved mysteries, so I just went round the library and checked out as many as I could carry. Hadn't had that much time to read in years." She shook her head. "And a bigger pile of silliness I never had read!" Gloria and Millie laughed. "I thought I could do a better job than that!, so I brought my old typewriter down from the attic and set to work." She smiled to herself. "Of course, I never dreamed it would be published. Or that it would be a success. I couldn't have imagined this life."

"How did you meet Seth? You said it was a backache?"

Jessica laughed. "Yes. Seth took over for old Doc Wilson when he retired. Seth moved back to Cabot Cove after Frank died. After I started writing." Jessica smiled, but it was tight with grief. "He'd known Frank, you see, when he was a boy. Frank, I mean. Seth is four years older than Frank." She threw an apologetic glance to the women. "Anyway, my back was acting up something fierce. He fixed it, and we started talking. Turns out we had a lot in common." Jessica smiled at the memory. "We became friends. Good friends."

"And then?" asked Millie eagerly.

Jessica stared thoughtfully into space. "And then we became more."

Gloria sat back to observe the woman in front of her. Jessica was cultured, elegant, reserved. Yet there was a warmth to her, an ease. She was companionable, easy-going, friendly. "You've certainly made a difference in Seth's life."

"He's made a difference in mine," she said quietly. "Do Chuck and Ben…do they ever talk about the war?"

Millie scoffed. "Hardly ever. All Ben does is hint around about the French girls he ran around with."

Gloria cast a warning look at Millie. "Chuck never said much. He had nightmares for awhile, when we first married, but thankfully they didn't last long." She looked at Jessica. "What about Seth?"

"A little," she said. "I was surprised to learn that he was part of D-Day. I knew he'd served in the war. Seth mentioned that Frank was a pilot in Korea. Frank sometimes..." Jessica smiled. "We occasionally talked of it." She paused for a moment. "But Seth...he's been…well, I know it's difficult for him, being here." She looked quickly at Millie and Gloria. "I'm sure it's been difficult for them all." Gloria nodded, but Millie looked unconvinced. "I was just curious."

"Men aren't nearly as good at communicating as women are," Gloria said and laughed. "Here we've learned more about you in an hour than Chuck or Ben has gleaned from Seth all week!"

All three women laughed, and Jessica appreciated the effort the women had made, especially Millie. She allowed herself a final bite of the pastry she'd ordered. Perhaps she'd go for an early jog tomorrow morning.

Seth nursed his drink. He was limiting himself to one very smooth single malt scotch. He wasn't about to come home to Jessica stinking drunk again. Never again. He'd let himself get carried away that night, and it shamed him. She'd been so good about it. How could she love him?

Ben nudged Chuck and jerked his head toward Seth. "He's got that look again."

"What?" asked Seth.

"The Jessica look," said Ben and laughed.

Seth was determined not to let either of them get his goat about Jessica. How could they understand? They couldn't. He took another slow sip.

Chuck clapped Seth on the back. "Don't mind us, Bluey. We're just jealous."

"Jealous?"

"Speak for yourself," piped Ben.

"I wish you wouldn't call me that."

"Old habits, Doc. Sorry."

Seth didn't miss the emphasis on doc. "What's eating you two?"

"Eating us? What's eating you? You're no fun anymore. All you do is follow Jessica around like a puppy dog or moon over her when you're apart," said Ben, who'd already blown past any limits Seth might have suggested.

"That's a little harsh, Ben," said Chuck. "Jessica's a very attractive, very vibrant lady."

Seth cut his eyes at Chuck. "Watch it," he said warningly.

Chuck threw up his hands in mock defense before taking another sip of his drink. "I'm only speaking the truth. Not like you can keep your hands off her."

Seth took a deep breath and counted to ten. Twice. Then he took the last swallow of his scotch. "I'm headed back to the hotel, fellas."

"No, no. Don't go, Bluey. Don't be mad," slurred Ben. "I usedta be good with the girls. Never had any trouble. But look at you! You won the jackpot." He cast a quick glance at Chuck. "No offense."

"Gloria's a fine woman. A fine woman. So is Millie. But Ben's right. Jessica's in a class all by herself. Just wish the two of you had taken my advice and settled down a little. No need to keep rubbbing our faces in it."

Seth pulled a twenty from his wallet and laid it on the bar, jerking his chin at the bartender to get his attention.

"You sure landed on your feet, Bluey," mumbled Ben into his drink. "That's all we're saying. You sure landed on your feet."

Seth swallowed his anger. They were drunk. It had been a hard day. A terrible day, and all he wanted to do was curl into Jessica's warm embrace. "Don't stay out too late, fellas. You know the girls'll probably have something planned for tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah," mumbled Ben, who raised his drink to Seth. "How about one more for the road?"

"I'm done, fellas. See ya tomorrow."

Seth walked out of the bar and into the cool dark night. The hotel wasn't far, and he could use the walk.

He ended up near the cathedral. It was a cloudless night and the moon was nearly full. He could see the new stained glass glittering in the reflected light of the moon. It was a night not so different from this that he'd landed fallen somewhere near here. Some godforsaken field, grateful to feel the earth under his body, to be alive in spite of the shelling, the shouts that sounded so close. He didn't think he'd ever been so scared. Ever.

It was hard to admit that. He didn't want to seem weak, pathetic, to his friends, to Ruth, and now to Jessica. He wanted to tell her, wanted to share those memories with her, but it was locked up tight. So tight. He was afraid if he let it out now, he'd never get over it. He did what he had to do to get back. Long ago he'd stopped questioning why he survived and others didn't. He told himself to get on with it. At least he hadn't taken out his anger and sadness on his wife and daughter. He was grateful for that; he'd heard stories.

He had worked too much; he could admit that now. He'd spent all that time, willingly, because he'd believed he and Ruth had so much time. Time to burn. Time to kill.

He took a well-worn path that meandered through a cemetery behind the cathedral. Here he was, at the end of his life, and he'd been blessed beyond measure. He'd been in love with Jessica almost from the moment he'd met her.

"That's not exactly true, Ruthie," he murmured up to the sky. "But it feels like it. And now she's mine. She's mine. At least she says she is, but she won't marry me. And…" He trailed off, feeling foolish. "And I'm getting it from the fellas. And their wives," he added. "I know, I know. It doesn't matter. It shouldn't matter, but it does," he said softly. "It bothers me."

He walked along the path, weaving among the headstones. "She looked so beautiful that night. At the dance. She's such a lady. A perfect lady. She's nothing like those other women, Ruthie. I've tried to explain to her, but she doesn't understand. Won't understand," he said mulishly. "Course she'd say that I don't understand. That our relationship is private."

"She's not wrong," Seth muttered. "I don't understand. What could be so wrong with marrying me? If she'll go to bed with me, live with me, travel with me, why won't she marry me?"

He shoved his hands in his pocket and began walking faster. "Why won't she marry me? It's been more than a year. I've been patient. I've tried to be a good man, worthy of her. A better man than I was for you, Ruthie!"

You know that's not true, Seth.

"And you know it is, Ruth."

You are a good man, Seth. You were a wonderful husband to me, and a good father to Margie. You did everything right.

"I did not, Ruth. I didn't do anything right! I wasted all that time I had with you. Precious time. And after you died, I was a wreck. Couldn't do hardly anything for Margie, for my patients. I completely lost control." He swallowed a sob.

But you made your way through the grief, Seth. Look at you now. Look at Margie!

"I didn't deserve you, and I don't deserve Jess. She must know that. Deep down. Otherwise…"

Don't do this, Seth. Do not do this.

He felt his heart banging against his chest. It was time to settle this. Past time.

He turned abruptly and began walking back to the hotel.