ACROSS ENEMY LINES
"My Dear, Sweet Zac,
I miss you so much. It feels so good to get it out there and say that. I admit that I took your leaving harder than I thought I would. I didn't think I could live, I never wanted to get out of the bed. It took my mother and Millie and Judith to finally help me realize that I wasn't taking care of myself. I didn't want to. I didn't want to do anything, I have no interest in living without you. None at all.
But, then, I realized that I'm not without you. You still belong to me and I still belong to you and we may be miles apart right now but our hearts will never know distance. As long as we love each other, as long as we breathe, we will never be without each other. No matter what.
However, I feel like I can't talk about how much I miss you around anyone. I feel like I have to keep it to myself. I suppose I made so much of a spectacle of myself that everyone thinks that if I share my feelings, I'll go into hysterics again. And the missing you hurts, it really does. But I really am learning to deal with it. I smiled today, when Scout licked my nose. I really did smile. Please, I don't want you to worry about me here. I probably shouldn't have told you any of those things, but then I have to remember that by the time you get this letter, you'll already be home. So, then, maybe you've been relieved of the burden of having to know that I've been in distress. That makes me happy.
Judith and Millie gave me a swell idea that I decided to start on right away. It will be difficult for me to write you back as you've promised to write me because I'm afraid my letters won't get to you in time. Instead, they've suggested that I write letters to you and put them in a book so that you can read them all when you come home. I hate not being able to talk to you when I want to, to tell you everything that I'm thinking or feeling when I feel them, but this book will be a sufficient alternative, I suppose. At least, then, I'll have some way to feel like I'm communicating with you and I won't have to keep it all bottled inside. This book might be full of nothing but I miss you and I love you, but at least by the time you read it, I'll be truly happy again, safe in your arms, lost in your eyes.
Scout misses you. He doesn't stay gone as often as he used to, I suppose because you're not at the camp. He cries sometimes and he looks at me with those big, sad eyes and it makes me cry, too. So I hug him and we console each other. I know you don't care too much for him, but he really is a good dog. If only you'd give him a chance. He loves you so.
Yesterday Millie and Judith and I went to swim in the river. There was nobody there and it was nice. I got a bit of a sunburn, though, and it hurts a little bit when I get an itch or when I have to change clothes. I'll probably be spending lots of time at the river this month, so maybe I'll have a nice suntan when you come home. That would be a surprise, wouldn't it?
Right now I'm sitting underneath our tree. Scout is laying beside me with his tongue hanging out, enjoying the shade. It's not the same without you here, whispering Shakespeare into my ear or carving something into the tree's trunk. It's quiet here and as long as Scout keeps coming with me, I probably won't get the chance to see any more baby bunnies. Right here is where I plan to spend the majority of your time away. I'm also thinking of maybe checking out some Shakespeare books from the public library and brushing up a little. Maybe I'll be more familiar with his work by the time you come home. Maybe you'll be impressed. Maybe I'll even teach you a couple of things!
I don't think I could ever put into writing how much I love you. And I miss you so terribly. I didn't know it was possible to miss someone this much. All I think about is you. Every hour, every single day, every moment, every second. I see your face everywhere, I hear your voice every time the wind blows. I need you, Zac. I wish you were here.
I can't write anymore right now. It's becoming too painful. I keep hearing your voice whisper my name and I don't want to stain the page with my tears. I'm so sorry this letter was so depressing. They won't all be this way. I hope you're safe and I hope your trip is going well. I hope I hear from you soon, your absence is unbearable.
I love you. I love you more than anything else in this world. And I've never been more proud to call you mine.
Yours Forever,
Bessie"
Bessie closed her notebook and sat it down next to her, extending her other arm to gently stroke Scout's coarse, brown fur. It was a lovely day, the sun wasn't too hot, and the breeze came as a welcome underneath the shade tree. She watched the tall wildflowers dance in the wind and she sighed, sitting back against the tree's trunk. She closed her eyes as a tear gently trickled down one of her cheeks and as she sniffed and took a deep breath, she'd accepted the fact that she could expect to cry at least once a day until Zac returned. It didn't matter how much fun she'd had swimming in the river or how comforting it felt to sit under their tree, she still remained in pain. She could smile and she could laugh, but it would never mean anything. Not until he came home to her.
She'd meant what she'd written about checking out Shakespeare from the public library. Despite how much she missed him, she was determined to be a better, more adult version of herself when he came home. After all, after being in all those big cities and meeting all types of different people, she didn't need him to come home and decide that she was too young and immature for him. There was way too much out there for him to decide he liked better. Maybe, on the way home from the library, she would stop and pick up a magazine or two and begin reading up on how to be a proper lady.
Letting out a sigh, she picked up Zac's grandfather's pocket watch and checked the time. It was time for her to be going home. She supposed her parents were happy that Zac was gone, with Bessie being on time for every meal and not having to fuss at her for being out at all hours. They sure wouldn't have to worry about that. After supper, Bessie's only interest was going straight to bed.
On that note, she stood and folded the blanket she and Scout had been sitting on, gathered her stationary and solemnly walked with her dog through the woods toward her house.
______________________________________________________
Since the Hanson brothers had left town, Judge Harlow had been making more frequent phone calls from work to his home to check up on his daughter. The state of depression she was in wasn't like anything he and Catherine had ever experienced with her before and his concern for her only grew. She did seem to be doing better than she had been a day or so ago, he had to admit that. She was eating her meals and coming out of her bedroom more often. He'd seen more of Millie and Judith than he had at one time in awhile and he was okay with that. If their constant presence was what it took to keep Bessie active and healthy, he would move them in if need be.
Having just read the verdict on a case, Judge Harlow returned to his office and was hanging his robe in his closet when there was a light knock on the door. Without waiting for an answer, the intruder invited himself in and closed the door behind him. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Stanley Connors stood in front of Judge Harlow's desk in his gray suit. "So. Good trial today."
"Justice was served, I believe," the judge replied.
"Yes, yes, I agree," Stanley murmured. "Speaking of justice...seems like the Hanson brothers have up and skipped town again."
"News travels fast," the judge remarked.
"Well, they used to be famous around these parts," Stanley replied. "Naturally their comings and goings would be of interest to the general public when there's so little to keep them entertained lately. How long do you think they'll be away this time?"
"Does it matter?" the judge replied, raising an eyebrow.
Judge Harlow hated this awkward confrontation with Stanley. Stan had been a good friend for many years now, but lately, with the constant tension between Stanley's son and the judge's daughter's beau, came tension in the two men's friendship. Not on the judge's part, anyway. He firmly believed that whatever was between Billy and Zac was between Billy and Zac. But Stanley took it personally. He supposed he could understand that, seeing as his only son's football career had been jeopardized, but nothing more had happened since Zac had been ganged up on at the free picture show downtown. So the judge wasn't sure why Stanley still held such a grudge, especially since Zac had his tail handed to him.
"I suppose not," Stanley replied, busying himself by fiddling with the pencils that sat in a cup on the judge's desk. "I imagine your life is easier, though. Not having to worry about where your daughter is all the time or what she's doing--"
"I never had to worry about her safety as long as she was with Zac," the judge pointed out. "She may have missed curfew on more than one occasion, but her safety was never in question."
"You're a very trusting father to not be worried about a pretty, young girl like her."
"She has a good head on her shoulders and so does Zac. He's a trustworthy person. Poor, maybe. But a good man, nonetheless. For her first boyfriend, I'd say Bessie picked the cream of the crop."
"I gotta say, I'm a little perplexed--and perhaps a little amused--by your sudden ode to that detestable gypsy. Not too long ago you practically forced me to make my son take out your daughter because you couldn't stand the idea of her being with that scoundrel. Now you're singing his praises left and right. I don't get it. He got something on you or something?"
The judge narrowed his eyes at Stanley, offended by the accusation. "Yeah," he spat. "My daughter's happiness. that's what he has on me."
Stanley scoffed, a little too amused for the judge's liking. "That's all it takes, huh?"
"You know my daughter comes first."
"Right. Of course. She's your only child, I get it. So, uh, how's she holding up with his leaving, anyway?"
The judge let out a breath, sitting back in his chair. "Heartbroken, naturally. He said goodbye to her and all, but you know goodbyes are never easy."
"So that's it, then? They called it quits?"
"Oh, heavens no," the judge chuckled. "No, those boys will be back, they can't stay up there in the big city forever."
"New York?"
"Yeah. It's a big city, but it won't keep them busy. Not for long, anyway. They'll come home and things will go back to normal. But for now she's dealing with her first loss and...well, you know how dramatic girls can be about things."
"A lot can happen in the time that they're away."
The judge nodded in agreement. "Yes. Yes, it can."
"That beau of hers might find something he likes up there in the big city. Or your girl could find something she likes better here. You never know."
"The only thing she likes better than that young man is her dog. I don't see any replacements in her near future."
"Young people ought not to limit themselves like that. They deserve to explore, see what's out there. Take my boy, for instance. He won't settle until he finds the right girl. Why, he's got himself a new girlfriend practically every month," Stanley boasted proudly. Then he paused for a moment and rubbed his chin in thought. "Say," he mused. "What if your girl is the right one? You ever thought of that? I mean, outside of trying to distract her from a gypsy, that is. She's damn near the only one Billy hasn't gone out with. Maybe this...maybe the Hanson boys skipping town and such...maybe this is fate. Maybe this is Billy and Bessie's time now. She had her fun with the gypsy. Now it's time to get serious. What do you think?"
Judge Harlow was speechless. This man was his friend...once upon a time. Now he was beginning to wonder if he had yet to see Stanley Connors's true colors. The judge sat there and stared at the district attorney and tried hard to determine whether the man was being disrespectful or not--or if he was just a plain dolt. He tried to give him the benefit of the doubt for not being around enough to realize the seriousness of his daughter's feelings for this young man. He wasn't sure he could condemn the man for commenting on something he was ignorant of.
"I understand your thought process," the judge said carefully. "But my daughter's feelings aren't something to be taken lightly."
"Oh, of course not," Stanley replied.
"She loves that young man, despite my earlier efforts to keep it from happening, and even despite my current efforts to broaden her horizons to life beyond the relationship. He's a good man and she sees that in him--and she made ME see it in him. Sure, he's poor and his future is uncertain, but he'll do anything in this world to make sure my daughter is the very best she can be, despite his shortcomings. And Bessie? She sees him for him--on the inside. And I couldn't be more proud of her for that. It makes me proud, as a father, knowing that I raised my daughter to become a fine, young woman who is without prejudice. If you're suggesting that I force our children out on, yet, another date, I'm afraid you're mistaken. The first time shouldn't have happened, and I'll take the sole blame for that."
Stanley Connors looked across the desk at the judge, a dumbfounded expression taking over his face. He blinked a couple of times, his ears turning red, and then he straightened his stature and adjusted his suit jacket. "Well, then. It seems like you've already married the urchin into your family."
"I don't know what the future holds for our family quite yet," the judge replied. "But I'll ask you to respect my family, Zac included. I'll not have you refer to him in such ways as you do in my presence anymore. Are we clear?"
"It's no secret that I think Zac Hanson should burn in hell for what he did to my boy and it sickens me to know that my closest friend for over ten years is up and taking his side. That lowlife stole my son's date, beat him to a pulp, and then ran off with your daughter into the night without a trace. That's practically kidnapping! I should have charged him! Now Billy has practically no football career anymore and, let's be frank, I'm concerned he doesn't quite have the smarts to pass the BAR--"
"Stan!" The judge called out, aghast. "That is your son--"
"Yes, yes, well the truth is the truth," Stanley spat. "That dirty gypsy cost my son his future over that girl of yours and I just won't stand for it!"
"Well, he got what was coming to him ten fold, didn't he? Your son sicking his cronies on the defenseless sap right in front of his girl like that. It was cowardly, despicable, and degrading and the man suffered dearly for it. Don't you think you've had enough? Don't you think they're even now? Jesus, Stan, I'm beginning to wonder if I even know you anymore."
"Yeah?" Stanley shot back. "The feeling's mutual. See you in the courtroom."
With that, Stanley Connors turned on his heels and escorted himself right out of the judge's office.
Judge Harlow sighed and rubbed his forehead in an attempt to relieve some of the tension that had formed in his body. He had never, in all the years he'd known Stanley, seen him show this much disdain for a single individual--not even cold-blooded murderers in the courtroom. The judge could relate to Stanley's woes of being the father to an only child. Any parent in the world would do whatever they could to make sure their child succeeded. With that being said, he knew some of his problem with Zac was purely parental.
But not all of it was. There was more. Much more there, the judge feared, but he just couldn't put his finger on what and Stanley didn't seem like he would be elaborating on it anytime soon. Maybe Zac's absence would do some good around Tulsa. However, he'd be back. And the judge decided he might be able to use his absence to get Stanley comfortable enough to tell him what his real issue with the young man was. Because something here just wasn't natural. Not natural at all.
*****************
Having had enough of the day, and no other court sessions scheduled, Judge Harlow packed up some work to take home with him and called it a day early. It would be nice to spend some quality time with his wife and daughter in the quiet of their home. Perhaps they would read together or discuss the news. Or, if he was lucky, the two loves of his life would have spent the day in the kitchen, baking. That was always a welcome treat.
He was almost correct when he walked into the farmhouse and smelled the aromas that wafted from the kitchen. Sitting his briefcase down in his office and hanging his hat and blazer on the coat rack, he made his way into the kitchen and smiled at his small family. He could smell the sweet smell of berries coming from the oven as his wife milled around the kitchen, busying herself in her apron. At the small table, his daughter sat, peeling potatoes, and wearing the same forlorn and faraway expression that was her norm lately.
"Good afternoon, ladies," the judge greeted them. "It's a bit early to be preparing dinner, isn't it? What's the occasion?"
"You tell me," his beautiful wife smiled at him. "What brings you home so early?"
"It's a beautiful day," he replied cheerfully. "It's hard to stay cooped up indoors with hardened criminals when there's so much life to enjoy out of doors." Walking around the small table, he leaned his tall frame over to kiss his daughter's forehead before sitting down next to her. "How are you today, sweetheart?"
"Hi, Daddy," Bessie replied, managing a small smile. "I walked Scout a little bit today and then I stayed in to help Mama in the kitchen. Some of this IS for supper, but the rest of it is for tomorrow's picnic."
"Tomorrow? What's so special about tomorrow?"
His wife turned around and tossed her dishcloth down on the counter and Bessie began to giggle, causing the judge to smile at her. "Daddy, did you forget? Tomorrow's Independence Day. We take a picnic to the river every year to watch the town's fireworks!"
Slapping a palm dramatically against his forehead, the judge's eyes widened. "Well, so it is! And no court tomorrow, as well! This day just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?"
Shaking her head, Catherine crossed the room and kissed her husband with a smile. "I'm happy you're home, dear. Do you think you might do me a favor and carry a sack of flour from the pantry, please?"
"Absolutely, ma'am," he grinned. "Anything for my ladies."
After completing his chore and watching his wife refill her flour bin from the fresh sack, the knock on the front door sounded throughout the house. "Who on Earth could that be?" He asked.
He watched his daughter's eyes light up for a moment before returning to normal, no doubt remembering that it couldn't possibly be who she hoped it was. She returned to her potatoes as he left the kitchen and headed for the front door.
Upon opening the door, Judge Harlow crossed his arms over his chest, unable to shake the confusion he had for the guest that stood on his porch. Dressed in a white tee shirt, tucked into his clean, tan trousers, Billy Connors didn't have a single one of his black hairs out of place in the popular comb-over style that he wore it in. The judge opened the door but didn't invite Billy inside. "Well, now. Billy Connors. To what do I owe this visit? Everything okay with your father?"
"Hello, sir," Stanley's son said nervously. "I apologize for intruding. My father is fine, thank you. Um, I actually came by to see if Bessie was at home. Sir."
The judge's eyes widened as he blinked at the nervous twenty-year-old. "My daughter? I wasn't aware you had any business with my daughter."
"Well, um, I don't...actually. The truth is, I've had a lot of time to really sit and think since I've been...well, you know, out of commission and all. And I realized that I've been...well maybe not such a nice person in her presence. And I wanted to apologize to her for it. I don't want to be known as a jerk, Judge Harlow. Surely you understand that."
Judge Harlow studied the boy for a moment more, finding it an unnerving coincidence that he should show up for this reason, considering the conversation he'd just had with his father an hour or two earlier. Much too much of a coincidence. "I appreciate your wanting to apologize to Bessie. That's very noble of you. But don't you think you owe a much bigger apology to that Hanson fellow?"
"Yes, sir," Billy nodded meekly. "I was hoping to apologize to him, as well."
"Well, you'll have time to come up with a suitable, meaningful apology," the judge tested him. "Because he's gone. Won't be back for awhile."
Billy blinked for a moment, his expression blank, and the judge unsure if this was actually news to him or if he was a skilled actor. Clearing his throat, the boy shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I had no idea," he finally replied. "Did they find a carnival to perform at?"
"Several. Up north. Say, son, don't you find it just a little bit inappropriate to call on a young lady who is otherwise involved with another man?"
Billy smoothed his hand over his hair, a nervous smile crossing his lips. "Well, sir, I'm not exactly sure how else I'm supposed to get an apology to her. To be honest, I've never actually been in a position like this before. In the past, I've never really had much to apologize for. But now I'm nearing twenty-one years old and about to go into my last years of college having to choose a different path than the one I was on. I'd like to begin with a clean slate. Right all my wrongs. You understand, don't you?"
Against his better judgment, the judge let out a breath and had to admit that he had to respect the boy for his intentions. After all, he did owe apologies to several people, his daughter included, and he couldn't condemn him for trying to make the necessary amends. "All right," the judge conceded. "I understand. Would you like to stay for supper? The ladies seem to be working awfully hard in the kitchen today."
Billy smiled nervously. "Thank you, sir, I appreciate the offer. But I was hoping to see if maybe Bessie might like to have lunch with me today. If she hasn't already eaten, that is."
Now the judge's hackles raised again and he eyed Billy suspiciously. "You understand that my daughter has a beau, don't you? Rich or poor, whether he's here or not, she has one."
"I understand, sir. The, uh, the truth is, I was hoping to ask her for some advice. Um, girl advice. About a girl I like. About maybe how to go about asking her out the right way as opposed to...well, you know, the way I've gotten dates in the past. I was hoping to have a girl's perspective and seeing as Bessie is one of the few girls in town that I haven't gone out with..."
"You want to be her friend," the judge concluded.
"If she's willing to accept my apologies, yes."
Judge Harlow swallowed and paused for a moment. "Very well. You may take her to eat. But she must be home in two hours, not a minute later."
"Yes, sir."
"Stay here, I'll get her for you."
______________________________________________________
Bessie was dumbfounded. Flabbergasted. Beside herself. She tried to protest with her father over going anywhere with Billy Connors, but her father insisted. It didn't matter how much she begged and she pleaded and made point after point, it was no use. "He comes with good intentions. He understands about Zac, he's not trying to get in the way, I think he simply needs a friend right now," her father said to her.
"He has tons of friends!" Bessie argued. "Tons of stupid, gooney, violent friends, he doesn't need me!"
But her father's word was final and before she knew it, she was in the front seat of Billy's car, silently peering out the window with her arms crossed in front of her.
He didn't try to speak, not like he did the night he took her to the social. He only drove in silence as the warm air blew into the car from the open windows. She did feel him glance at her a couple of times and she almost felt bad for being so rude, and then she remembered how mean he and his friends had been to Zac and it didn't take long for her to stop feeling bad again.
Finally, as they neared town, Billy broke the silence. "So, uh, thank you for coming out with me. I hope you don't mind the diner. They have the best hot dogs in town."
"For the record," she corrected him. "This is not 'coming out.' You will not open any doors for me, you will not order for me, you will not pay for my food--"
"Well, I invited you out, I have to pay for your food--"
"I have my own money, thank you," she replied, holding her chin high in the air.
Billy sighed as he pulled into the small diner's gravel parking lot. "Look," he said. "I get it. I understand your apprehensions about me, I understand that you have a boyfriend, I understand it all. Okay? But would you just at least try to hear me out and not be so complicated today? Will you?"
Glancing over at him a time or two, catching the sincerity on his face, Bessie felt compelled to give in. "Fine," she huffed. "I'll listen. But that's it."
"That's all I ask," he smiled.
To Bessie's horror, it was a busy afternoon at the diner. She was appalled at the way Billy held the heavy, glass door for her and she was even more appalled when they walked inside the mostly-white restaurant with all eyes on the pair of them. She tried not to look at them, at their questioning and assuming expressions, and she tried not to wonder what they were all thinking when they looked at them. The last thing she needed was for anyone to think that this little outing meant something.
Billy stood there as Bessie slid herself into one of the last empty booths near the back of the cramped establishment and she hated the way he seated himself only after she was seated. She wished he'd stop being a gentleman. She didn't want an excuse to find anything pleasant about him. She was only there because her father had forced her to be. Just like the first time she went somewhere with Billy.
In spite of herself, Bessie was hungry, and her penchant for unhealthy food got the best of her. She ordered a hot dog with the works and an ice cream soda while Billy nearly doubled her order for himself. Then she sat with her hands in her lap, looking uncomfortably around the restaurant in silence.
"I know you don't want to be here with me," Billy said quietly, nearly startling her out of the daze she'd been seeping into. "And I understand that. I was, uh, I was a jerk to you. I know you and I have known each other a little bit through our parents growing up, so I suppose that when I took you out I thought I could act the way I wanted because I knew you. And I had just--you know, I just came home from school, from a place where my ego was fed every single day because they kept calling me a football star and such and I suppose I was still reeling from that--and it clouded my judgment a little bit."
She blinked at him for a moment. Bessie was generally a nice person. At least she always had been, she supposed, up until recently when she decided life was too short to keep everything bottled up inside and to not be honest about her feelings. "To tell you the truth, Billy, you've always been kind of mean. Not just this summer, but before that, too."
Billy's eyes widened, obvious that she'd caught him off guard. "What?"
"Yes," she stated. "You've always been kind of rude and conceited and full of yourself...and at times, quite inappropriate. You've never been one of my favorite people, even before I met Zac. That is the honest-to-goodness truth."
"Well--um--" he sputtered. "I guess I wasn't quite aware of that."
"Well, now you are. I suppose I could understand why nobody ever tried to point that out to you, though. They're all too busy worshipping you or fearing you or clinging to your popularity. I mean, you're handsome and I see why all the girls swoon all over you, but I see why you can't keep them for very long, also."
Billy furrowed his brow at her, apparently stung by her words. "I remember when you used to be quiet," he said. "My father always taught me that women and children should be seen and not heard. I'm beginning to see why."
"Yeah? Well, Zac happens to love when I talk. In fact, he encourages me to talk. He makes me think and he makes me see things differently than I used to. And he also taught me not to take any flak off of anyone. Starting with you and your barbarian cronies."
After a moment, their food arrived and Billy's furrowed brow didn't waiver as he sat back in his seat, stirring his soda pop with his straw. "So how did you end up with that guy, anyway? How does someone like...you...end up with someone like him...?"
Bessie's jaw dropped in protest. "What does that mean?"
"Come on. You know. A poor, washed-up has-been, a whopping eight years older than you? Going out with the judge's wealthy, young, innocent daughter? Please. I can't believe your father even allows it."
"He didn't at first," she replied confidently, her chin in the air. "He said the same thing you did, about how he's poor and such. I had to make him realize that doesn't matter to me. Money doesn't make a person--their heart does. And despite his sometimes hot temper, Zac has the kindest heart I've ever met. And we fell in love at first sight."
"Yeah, right," Billy scoffed.
"We did!" Bessie argued. "At the fair. I saw him looking at me on the fairgrounds. And a boy never looked at me before--"
"Well, you sure weren't the prettiest thing growing up."
Bessie glared at Billy's rudeness, instantly reminded of why she despised him. "Zac thinks I'm beautiful. And what he thinks is the only thing that matters."
"I didn't say you didn't grow up," he replied, suddenly changing his tune as he straightened up in his seat. "I just said you weren't always the prettiest. But you sure are pretty now."
Bessie felt herself begin to blush before she realized how annoyed she was.
Billy continued. "So this...this love at first sight thing. How does that work? How do you even know? I heard it's all hogwash."
"I suppose that's what it was," she replied, her heart soaring at any opportunity to talk about Zac. "We saw each other and I thought he was handsome. And then he gave me trick flowers during his act. Then we met later that night at the--well, we met later that night and we went for a walk and we talked. And we decided we liked each other. It didn't take me long to love him. Not long at all."
"What makes you love him?"
"Something deeper than words."
There was silence after that. Silence as the pair both pondered the question and the answer and further silence as they finally acknowledged the food on their plates. After her stomach was satisfied for the time being, Bessie asked him, "Why are you asking all these questions?"
"Huh?"
"About Zac. About the way I feel about him. Why?"
For the first time since they'd sat down, Billy began to blush and shift uncomfortably in his seat. "Well," he began. "Maybe--well--part of the reason I asked you here is--you see, I like this girl--"
"Oh, no," Bessie said, shaking her head and plopping her hot dog down onto her plate. "Oh, no, you don't. Don't you dare think you can bring me here and woo me and take me away--"
"No," he said, shaking his head. "No, it's not you, jeez. It's--" Then he lowered his voice. "It's Sue Wilkerson. I was going to ask her to the social before my dad made me take you instead."
"I was supposed to go with Zac," she said, her face falling.
"I gathered. That night was just so...wrong. You know, if I had been smart, we could have played that off and pretended to go together and then met our dates at the dance. Which, I guess, was what you and Zac did, anyway..."
"No," Bessie shook her head. "I didn't know he was coming."
"I suppose I deserved what I got that night. Ribs and all, maybe. For being so rude to you. Sue would never go for a guy so rude."
"And Zac would never go for a guy who called me names."
"He was right to defend your honor, you know. I've had a lot of time to think and reflect on my actions since I was out of commission and I owe quite a few people an apology for different things. I was hoping to apologize to Zac today, as well, and try to make amends, but I had no idea he was gone."
And there it was. The brutal, direct reminder that Zac was nowhere near close by. That she was sitting in a diner with Zac's sworn enemy, having a conversation over hot dogs...and she felt horrible about it. She felt like she was betraying Zac. No matter how much remorse Billy felt or how bad he wanted to apologize, it wouldn't change the betrayal she felt towards Zac because Zac didn't know any of Billy's intentions. Poor Zac was completely in the dark.
"He's coming back," she said, mustering up as much confidence as she could gather. "You can apologize to him when he comes home."
"If he comes home," he muttered.
"Excuse me?" She came at him incredulously.
"Come on," he said, shoving a french-fry into his mouth and talking with his mouth full. "He went to New York City, for crying out loud. The city of dreams and opportunity. And in the middle of a depression the country is in? I bet there's so much money to be made up there, why would they ever come home to boring, old Tulsa? All they needed was the ticket up there and they got it. It was only a matter of time. You had to know that."
Bessie could only stare at the brute across from her who continued to rudely shove food into his mouth. Could it be that he was voicing the very fears she feared on the inside? This boy who had absolutely no way of knowing what her fears and nightmares were? Did that mean they might come true? Was it possible that Zac could find so much fame and glory in the big city that he might never come home? That he really might forget she ever existed, getting lost in the lights and the people and the bustle of the city? After all, she was only one person. One small, tiny person in a world so large and vast...
Suddenly, Bessie wasn't hungry anymore. She shoved her half-eaten hot dog and the last half of her ice cream soda away from her and she felt like she was going to be sick. "Zac loves me," she whispered, mostly trying to convince herself.
"Sure, he does," Billy replied simply. "But for how long?"
"How dare you?" She finally erupted at him. "How dare you? You--you sit there and you apologize to me for being so rude and then you turn around and are just--as rude as you ever were before!"
"It's not rude, Bessie, it's reality!" He hissed harshly across the table. "This is real life. It's not some fantasy love story like you read in the old books, this is real. The reality is, he's a poor man who needs work and New York has work. Why the hell would he come home and be destitute again when he's making a living up there? And you're about to go off to school anyway, so what's it matter? Seriously, Bessie, think about it. I know you have been, I can tell."
Bessie glared across the table at him, more desperate than ever to conceal her emotions from him. "You want my advice on how to get Sue Wilkerson to like you? How about being nice? Just nice. Try listening and being understanding and, for the love of God, stop shoving that food into your mouth like a caveman! Maybe if you presented yourself like a sophisticated young man instead of a sloppy young boy, you might not have to try so hard to get her to like you. Why don't you try that? If you were half the man Zac is, she would fall head over heels in love with you. Some apology, Billy. Some apology, indeed."
With that, she stood from the booth, turned on her heel and made her way through the diner, Billy yelling in the background, "Hey! Hey, we're still eating!"
Bessie didn't care. If he was so insistent on paying for her food, he could have at it. Try as he might, there just wasn't a caring, sensitive bone in Billy Connors's body. There was no way they would ever be friends and she just knew that, no matter what, if he even attempted to apologize to Zac, all he would get is clocked right in the mouth. No. It was better that Billy just leave well enough alone and keep his distance.
Except the damned boy was just so persistent. As Bessie marched down the road in the hot, July sun, not having gotten far from the diner at all, Billy pulled up beside her in his car. "Bessie, I'm sorry," he called out the window of the moving automobile. "I mean it, okay? Maybe I don't know how to stop being a jerk. Maybe you could help me, you know? It's not like I have siblings or anybody influential to show me the way. I mean my dad tells stories for a living to get criminals off, you know? Just help me, okay? I really want to talk to Sue at the Independence Day picnic tomorrow but I don't want to screw it up. Okay? Please?"
Finally, Bessie stopped and huffed a breath as she stood and glared at Billy in the now-dormant automobile. She didn't know what came over her in the moment--boredom or desperation or her displeasure at the idea of walking all the way home in the scorching heat, but she finally conceded. "Fine," she said curtly as she opened the door and climbed in the passenger side. "Take me straight home. And on the way, I'll be glad to point out all the ways that you're a jerk and how not to be one."
"My Dear, Sweet Zac,
I miss you so much. It feels so good to get it out there and say that. I admit that I took your leaving harder than I thought I would. I didn't think I could live, I never wanted to get out of the bed. It took my mother and Millie and Judith to finally help me realize that I wasn't taking care of myself. I didn't want to. I didn't want to do anything, I have no interest in living without you. None at all.
But, then, I realized that I'm not without you. You still belong to me and I still belong to you and we may be miles apart right now but our hearts will never know distance. As long as we love each other, as long as we breathe, we will never be without each other. No matter what.
However, I feel like I can't talk about how much I miss you around anyone. I feel like I have to keep it to myself. I suppose I made so much of a spectacle of myself that everyone thinks that if I share my feelings, I'll go into hysterics again. And the missing you hurts, it really does. But I really am learning to deal with it. I smiled today, when Scout licked my nose. I really did smile. Please, I don't want you to worry about me here. I probably shouldn't have told you any of those things, but then I have to remember that by the time you get this letter, you'll already be home. So, then, maybe you've been relieved of the burden of having to know that I've been in distress. That makes me happy.
Judith and Millie gave me a swell idea that I decided to start on right away. It will be difficult for me to write you back as you've promised to write me because I'm afraid my letters won't get to you in time. Instead, they've suggested that I write letters to you and put them in a book so that you can read them all when you come home. I hate not being able to talk to you when I want to, to tell you everything that I'm thinking or feeling when I feel them, but this book will be a sufficient alternative, I suppose. At least, then, I'll have some way to feel like I'm communicating with you and I won't have to keep it all bottled inside. This book might be full of nothing but I miss you and I love you, but at least by the time you read it, I'll be truly happy again, safe in your arms, lost in your eyes.
Scout misses you. He doesn't stay gone as often as he used to, I suppose because you're not at the camp. He cries sometimes and he looks at me with those big, sad eyes and it makes me cry, too. So I hug him and we console each other. I know you don't care too much for him, but he really is a good dog. If only you'd give him a chance. He loves you so.
Yesterday Millie and Judith and I went to swim in the river. There was nobody there and it was nice. I got a bit of a sunburn, though, and it hurts a little bit when I get an itch or when I have to change clothes. I'll probably be spending lots of time at the river this month, so maybe I'll have a nice suntan when you come home. That would be a surprise, wouldn't it?
Right now I'm sitting underneath our tree. Scout is laying beside me with his tongue hanging out, enjoying the shade. It's not the same without you here, whispering Shakespeare into my ear or carving something into the tree's trunk. It's quiet here and as long as Scout keeps coming with me, I probably won't get the chance to see any more baby bunnies. Right here is where I plan to spend the majority of your time away. I'm also thinking of maybe checking out some Shakespeare books from the public library and brushing up a little. Maybe I'll be more familiar with his work by the time you come home. Maybe you'll be impressed. Maybe I'll even teach you a couple of things!
I don't think I could ever put into writing how much I love you. And I miss you so terribly. I didn't know it was possible to miss someone this much. All I think about is you. Every hour, every single day, every moment, every second. I see your face everywhere, I hear your voice every time the wind blows. I need you, Zac. I wish you were here.
I can't write anymore right now. It's becoming too painful. I keep hearing your voice whisper my name and I don't want to stain the page with my tears. I'm so sorry this letter was so depressing. They won't all be this way. I hope you're safe and I hope your trip is going well. I hope I hear from you soon, your absence is unbearable.
I love you. I love you more than anything else in this world. And I've never been more proud to call you mine.
Yours Forever,
Bessie"
Bessie closed her notebook and sat it down next to her, extending her other arm to gently stroke Scout's coarse, brown fur. It was a lovely day, the sun wasn't too hot, and the breeze came as a welcome underneath the shade tree. She watched the tall wildflowers dance in the wind and she sighed, sitting back against the tree's trunk. She closed her eyes as a tear gently trickled down one of her cheeks and as she sniffed and took a deep breath, she'd accepted the fact that she could expect to cry at least once a day until Zac returned. It didn't matter how much fun she'd had swimming in the river or how comforting it felt to sit under their tree, she still remained in pain. She could smile and she could laugh, but it would never mean anything. Not until he came home to her.
She'd meant what she'd written about checking out Shakespeare from the public library. Despite how much she missed him, she was determined to be a better, more adult version of herself when he came home. After all, after being in all those big cities and meeting all types of different people, she didn't need him to come home and decide that she was too young and immature for him. There was way too much out there for him to decide he liked better. Maybe, on the way home from the library, she would stop and pick up a magazine or two and begin reading up on how to be a proper lady.
Letting out a sigh, she picked up Zac's grandfather's pocket watch and checked the time. It was time for her to be going home. She supposed her parents were happy that Zac was gone, with Bessie being on time for every meal and not having to fuss at her for being out at all hours. They sure wouldn't have to worry about that. After supper, Bessie's only interest was going straight to bed.
On that note, she stood and folded the blanket she and Scout had been sitting on, gathered her stationary and solemnly walked with her dog through the woods toward her house.
______________________________________________________
Since the Hanson brothers had left town, Judge Harlow had been making more frequent phone calls from work to his home to check up on his daughter. The state of depression she was in wasn't like anything he and Catherine had ever experienced with her before and his concern for her only grew. She did seem to be doing better than she had been a day or so ago, he had to admit that. She was eating her meals and coming out of her bedroom more often. He'd seen more of Millie and Judith than he had at one time in awhile and he was okay with that. If their constant presence was what it took to keep Bessie active and healthy, he would move them in if need be.
Having just read the verdict on a case, Judge Harlow returned to his office and was hanging his robe in his closet when there was a light knock on the door. Without waiting for an answer, the intruder invited himself in and closed the door behind him. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Stanley Connors stood in front of Judge Harlow's desk in his gray suit. "So. Good trial today."
"Justice was served, I believe," the judge replied.
"Yes, yes, I agree," Stanley murmured. "Speaking of justice...seems like the Hanson brothers have up and skipped town again."
"News travels fast," the judge remarked.
"Well, they used to be famous around these parts," Stanley replied. "Naturally their comings and goings would be of interest to the general public when there's so little to keep them entertained lately. How long do you think they'll be away this time?"
"Does it matter?" the judge replied, raising an eyebrow.
Judge Harlow hated this awkward confrontation with Stanley. Stan had been a good friend for many years now, but lately, with the constant tension between Stanley's son and the judge's daughter's beau, came tension in the two men's friendship. Not on the judge's part, anyway. He firmly believed that whatever was between Billy and Zac was between Billy and Zac. But Stanley took it personally. He supposed he could understand that, seeing as his only son's football career had been jeopardized, but nothing more had happened since Zac had been ganged up on at the free picture show downtown. So the judge wasn't sure why Stanley still held such a grudge, especially since Zac had his tail handed to him.
"I suppose not," Stanley replied, busying himself by fiddling with the pencils that sat in a cup on the judge's desk. "I imagine your life is easier, though. Not having to worry about where your daughter is all the time or what she's doing--"
"I never had to worry about her safety as long as she was with Zac," the judge pointed out. "She may have missed curfew on more than one occasion, but her safety was never in question."
"You're a very trusting father to not be worried about a pretty, young girl like her."
"She has a good head on her shoulders and so does Zac. He's a trustworthy person. Poor, maybe. But a good man, nonetheless. For her first boyfriend, I'd say Bessie picked the cream of the crop."
"I gotta say, I'm a little perplexed--and perhaps a little amused--by your sudden ode to that detestable gypsy. Not too long ago you practically forced me to make my son take out your daughter because you couldn't stand the idea of her being with that scoundrel. Now you're singing his praises left and right. I don't get it. He got something on you or something?"
The judge narrowed his eyes at Stanley, offended by the accusation. "Yeah," he spat. "My daughter's happiness. that's what he has on me."
Stanley scoffed, a little too amused for the judge's liking. "That's all it takes, huh?"
"You know my daughter comes first."
"Right. Of course. She's your only child, I get it. So, uh, how's she holding up with his leaving, anyway?"
The judge let out a breath, sitting back in his chair. "Heartbroken, naturally. He said goodbye to her and all, but you know goodbyes are never easy."
"So that's it, then? They called it quits?"
"Oh, heavens no," the judge chuckled. "No, those boys will be back, they can't stay up there in the big city forever."
"New York?"
"Yeah. It's a big city, but it won't keep them busy. Not for long, anyway. They'll come home and things will go back to normal. But for now she's dealing with her first loss and...well, you know how dramatic girls can be about things."
"A lot can happen in the time that they're away."
The judge nodded in agreement. "Yes. Yes, it can."
"That beau of hers might find something he likes up there in the big city. Or your girl could find something she likes better here. You never know."
"The only thing she likes better than that young man is her dog. I don't see any replacements in her near future."
"Young people ought not to limit themselves like that. They deserve to explore, see what's out there. Take my boy, for instance. He won't settle until he finds the right girl. Why, he's got himself a new girlfriend practically every month," Stanley boasted proudly. Then he paused for a moment and rubbed his chin in thought. "Say," he mused. "What if your girl is the right one? You ever thought of that? I mean, outside of trying to distract her from a gypsy, that is. She's damn near the only one Billy hasn't gone out with. Maybe this...maybe the Hanson boys skipping town and such...maybe this is fate. Maybe this is Billy and Bessie's time now. She had her fun with the gypsy. Now it's time to get serious. What do you think?"
Judge Harlow was speechless. This man was his friend...once upon a time. Now he was beginning to wonder if he had yet to see Stanley Connors's true colors. The judge sat there and stared at the district attorney and tried hard to determine whether the man was being disrespectful or not--or if he was just a plain dolt. He tried to give him the benefit of the doubt for not being around enough to realize the seriousness of his daughter's feelings for this young man. He wasn't sure he could condemn the man for commenting on something he was ignorant of.
"I understand your thought process," the judge said carefully. "But my daughter's feelings aren't something to be taken lightly."
"Oh, of course not," Stanley replied.
"She loves that young man, despite my earlier efforts to keep it from happening, and even despite my current efforts to broaden her horizons to life beyond the relationship. He's a good man and she sees that in him--and she made ME see it in him. Sure, he's poor and his future is uncertain, but he'll do anything in this world to make sure my daughter is the very best she can be, despite his shortcomings. And Bessie? She sees him for him--on the inside. And I couldn't be more proud of her for that. It makes me proud, as a father, knowing that I raised my daughter to become a fine, young woman who is without prejudice. If you're suggesting that I force our children out on, yet, another date, I'm afraid you're mistaken. The first time shouldn't have happened, and I'll take the sole blame for that."
Stanley Connors looked across the desk at the judge, a dumbfounded expression taking over his face. He blinked a couple of times, his ears turning red, and then he straightened his stature and adjusted his suit jacket. "Well, then. It seems like you've already married the urchin into your family."
"I don't know what the future holds for our family quite yet," the judge replied. "But I'll ask you to respect my family, Zac included. I'll not have you refer to him in such ways as you do in my presence anymore. Are we clear?"
"It's no secret that I think Zac Hanson should burn in hell for what he did to my boy and it sickens me to know that my closest friend for over ten years is up and taking his side. That lowlife stole my son's date, beat him to a pulp, and then ran off with your daughter into the night without a trace. That's practically kidnapping! I should have charged him! Now Billy has practically no football career anymore and, let's be frank, I'm concerned he doesn't quite have the smarts to pass the BAR--"
"Stan!" The judge called out, aghast. "That is your son--"
"Yes, yes, well the truth is the truth," Stanley spat. "That dirty gypsy cost my son his future over that girl of yours and I just won't stand for it!"
"Well, he got what was coming to him ten fold, didn't he? Your son sicking his cronies on the defenseless sap right in front of his girl like that. It was cowardly, despicable, and degrading and the man suffered dearly for it. Don't you think you've had enough? Don't you think they're even now? Jesus, Stan, I'm beginning to wonder if I even know you anymore."
"Yeah?" Stanley shot back. "The feeling's mutual. See you in the courtroom."
With that, Stanley Connors turned on his heels and escorted himself right out of the judge's office.
Judge Harlow sighed and rubbed his forehead in an attempt to relieve some of the tension that had formed in his body. He had never, in all the years he'd known Stanley, seen him show this much disdain for a single individual--not even cold-blooded murderers in the courtroom. The judge could relate to Stanley's woes of being the father to an only child. Any parent in the world would do whatever they could to make sure their child succeeded. With that being said, he knew some of his problem with Zac was purely parental.
But not all of it was. There was more. Much more there, the judge feared, but he just couldn't put his finger on what and Stanley didn't seem like he would be elaborating on it anytime soon. Maybe Zac's absence would do some good around Tulsa. However, he'd be back. And the judge decided he might be able to use his absence to get Stanley comfortable enough to tell him what his real issue with the young man was. Because something here just wasn't natural. Not natural at all.
*****************
Having had enough of the day, and no other court sessions scheduled, Judge Harlow packed up some work to take home with him and called it a day early. It would be nice to spend some quality time with his wife and daughter in the quiet of their home. Perhaps they would read together or discuss the news. Or, if he was lucky, the two loves of his life would have spent the day in the kitchen, baking. That was always a welcome treat.
He was almost correct when he walked into the farmhouse and smelled the aromas that wafted from the kitchen. Sitting his briefcase down in his office and hanging his hat and blazer on the coat rack, he made his way into the kitchen and smiled at his small family. He could smell the sweet smell of berries coming from the oven as his wife milled around the kitchen, busying herself in her apron. At the small table, his daughter sat, peeling potatoes, and wearing the same forlorn and faraway expression that was her norm lately.
"Good afternoon, ladies," the judge greeted them. "It's a bit early to be preparing dinner, isn't it? What's the occasion?"
"You tell me," his beautiful wife smiled at him. "What brings you home so early?"
"It's a beautiful day," he replied cheerfully. "It's hard to stay cooped up indoors with hardened criminals when there's so much life to enjoy out of doors." Walking around the small table, he leaned his tall frame over to kiss his daughter's forehead before sitting down next to her. "How are you today, sweetheart?"
"Hi, Daddy," Bessie replied, managing a small smile. "I walked Scout a little bit today and then I stayed in to help Mama in the kitchen. Some of this IS for supper, but the rest of it is for tomorrow's picnic."
"Tomorrow? What's so special about tomorrow?"
His wife turned around and tossed her dishcloth down on the counter and Bessie began to giggle, causing the judge to smile at her. "Daddy, did you forget? Tomorrow's Independence Day. We take a picnic to the river every year to watch the town's fireworks!"
Slapping a palm dramatically against his forehead, the judge's eyes widened. "Well, so it is! And no court tomorrow, as well! This day just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?"
Shaking her head, Catherine crossed the room and kissed her husband with a smile. "I'm happy you're home, dear. Do you think you might do me a favor and carry a sack of flour from the pantry, please?"
"Absolutely, ma'am," he grinned. "Anything for my ladies."
After completing his chore and watching his wife refill her flour bin from the fresh sack, the knock on the front door sounded throughout the house. "Who on Earth could that be?" He asked.
He watched his daughter's eyes light up for a moment before returning to normal, no doubt remembering that it couldn't possibly be who she hoped it was. She returned to her potatoes as he left the kitchen and headed for the front door.
Upon opening the door, Judge Harlow crossed his arms over his chest, unable to shake the confusion he had for the guest that stood on his porch. Dressed in a white tee shirt, tucked into his clean, tan trousers, Billy Connors didn't have a single one of his black hairs out of place in the popular comb-over style that he wore it in. The judge opened the door but didn't invite Billy inside. "Well, now. Billy Connors. To what do I owe this visit? Everything okay with your father?"
"Hello, sir," Stanley's son said nervously. "I apologize for intruding. My father is fine, thank you. Um, I actually came by to see if Bessie was at home. Sir."
The judge's eyes widened as he blinked at the nervous twenty-year-old. "My daughter? I wasn't aware you had any business with my daughter."
"Well, um, I don't...actually. The truth is, I've had a lot of time to really sit and think since I've been...well, you know, out of commission and all. And I realized that I've been...well maybe not such a nice person in her presence. And I wanted to apologize to her for it. I don't want to be known as a jerk, Judge Harlow. Surely you understand that."
Judge Harlow studied the boy for a moment more, finding it an unnerving coincidence that he should show up for this reason, considering the conversation he'd just had with his father an hour or two earlier. Much too much of a coincidence. "I appreciate your wanting to apologize to Bessie. That's very noble of you. But don't you think you owe a much bigger apology to that Hanson fellow?"
"Yes, sir," Billy nodded meekly. "I was hoping to apologize to him, as well."
"Well, you'll have time to come up with a suitable, meaningful apology," the judge tested him. "Because he's gone. Won't be back for awhile."
Billy blinked for a moment, his expression blank, and the judge unsure if this was actually news to him or if he was a skilled actor. Clearing his throat, the boy shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I had no idea," he finally replied. "Did they find a carnival to perform at?"
"Several. Up north. Say, son, don't you find it just a little bit inappropriate to call on a young lady who is otherwise involved with another man?"
Billy smoothed his hand over his hair, a nervous smile crossing his lips. "Well, sir, I'm not exactly sure how else I'm supposed to get an apology to her. To be honest, I've never actually been in a position like this before. In the past, I've never really had much to apologize for. But now I'm nearing twenty-one years old and about to go into my last years of college having to choose a different path than the one I was on. I'd like to begin with a clean slate. Right all my wrongs. You understand, don't you?"
Against his better judgment, the judge let out a breath and had to admit that he had to respect the boy for his intentions. After all, he did owe apologies to several people, his daughter included, and he couldn't condemn him for trying to make the necessary amends. "All right," the judge conceded. "I understand. Would you like to stay for supper? The ladies seem to be working awfully hard in the kitchen today."
Billy smiled nervously. "Thank you, sir, I appreciate the offer. But I was hoping to see if maybe Bessie might like to have lunch with me today. If she hasn't already eaten, that is."
Now the judge's hackles raised again and he eyed Billy suspiciously. "You understand that my daughter has a beau, don't you? Rich or poor, whether he's here or not, she has one."
"I understand, sir. The, uh, the truth is, I was hoping to ask her for some advice. Um, girl advice. About a girl I like. About maybe how to go about asking her out the right way as opposed to...well, you know, the way I've gotten dates in the past. I was hoping to have a girl's perspective and seeing as Bessie is one of the few girls in town that I haven't gone out with..."
"You want to be her friend," the judge concluded.
"If she's willing to accept my apologies, yes."
Judge Harlow swallowed and paused for a moment. "Very well. You may take her to eat. But she must be home in two hours, not a minute later."
"Yes, sir."
"Stay here, I'll get her for you."
______________________________________________________
Bessie was dumbfounded. Flabbergasted. Beside herself. She tried to protest with her father over going anywhere with Billy Connors, but her father insisted. It didn't matter how much she begged and she pleaded and made point after point, it was no use. "He comes with good intentions. He understands about Zac, he's not trying to get in the way, I think he simply needs a friend right now," her father said to her.
"He has tons of friends!" Bessie argued. "Tons of stupid, gooney, violent friends, he doesn't need me!"
But her father's word was final and before she knew it, she was in the front seat of Billy's car, silently peering out the window with her arms crossed in front of her.
He didn't try to speak, not like he did the night he took her to the social. He only drove in silence as the warm air blew into the car from the open windows. She did feel him glance at her a couple of times and she almost felt bad for being so rude, and then she remembered how mean he and his friends had been to Zac and it didn't take long for her to stop feeling bad again.
Finally, as they neared town, Billy broke the silence. "So, uh, thank you for coming out with me. I hope you don't mind the diner. They have the best hot dogs in town."
"For the record," she corrected him. "This is not 'coming out.' You will not open any doors for me, you will not order for me, you will not pay for my food--"
"Well, I invited you out, I have to pay for your food--"
"I have my own money, thank you," she replied, holding her chin high in the air.
Billy sighed as he pulled into the small diner's gravel parking lot. "Look," he said. "I get it. I understand your apprehensions about me, I understand that you have a boyfriend, I understand it all. Okay? But would you just at least try to hear me out and not be so complicated today? Will you?"
Glancing over at him a time or two, catching the sincerity on his face, Bessie felt compelled to give in. "Fine," she huffed. "I'll listen. But that's it."
"That's all I ask," he smiled.
To Bessie's horror, it was a busy afternoon at the diner. She was appalled at the way Billy held the heavy, glass door for her and she was even more appalled when they walked inside the mostly-white restaurant with all eyes on the pair of them. She tried not to look at them, at their questioning and assuming expressions, and she tried not to wonder what they were all thinking when they looked at them. The last thing she needed was for anyone to think that this little outing meant something.
Billy stood there as Bessie slid herself into one of the last empty booths near the back of the cramped establishment and she hated the way he seated himself only after she was seated. She wished he'd stop being a gentleman. She didn't want an excuse to find anything pleasant about him. She was only there because her father had forced her to be. Just like the first time she went somewhere with Billy.
In spite of herself, Bessie was hungry, and her penchant for unhealthy food got the best of her. She ordered a hot dog with the works and an ice cream soda while Billy nearly doubled her order for himself. Then she sat with her hands in her lap, looking uncomfortably around the restaurant in silence.
"I know you don't want to be here with me," Billy said quietly, nearly startling her out of the daze she'd been seeping into. "And I understand that. I was, uh, I was a jerk to you. I know you and I have known each other a little bit through our parents growing up, so I suppose that when I took you out I thought I could act the way I wanted because I knew you. And I had just--you know, I just came home from school, from a place where my ego was fed every single day because they kept calling me a football star and such and I suppose I was still reeling from that--and it clouded my judgment a little bit."
She blinked at him for a moment. Bessie was generally a nice person. At least she always had been, she supposed, up until recently when she decided life was too short to keep everything bottled up inside and to not be honest about her feelings. "To tell you the truth, Billy, you've always been kind of mean. Not just this summer, but before that, too."
Billy's eyes widened, obvious that she'd caught him off guard. "What?"
"Yes," she stated. "You've always been kind of rude and conceited and full of yourself...and at times, quite inappropriate. You've never been one of my favorite people, even before I met Zac. That is the honest-to-goodness truth."
"Well--um--" he sputtered. "I guess I wasn't quite aware of that."
"Well, now you are. I suppose I could understand why nobody ever tried to point that out to you, though. They're all too busy worshipping you or fearing you or clinging to your popularity. I mean, you're handsome and I see why all the girls swoon all over you, but I see why you can't keep them for very long, also."
Billy furrowed his brow at her, apparently stung by her words. "I remember when you used to be quiet," he said. "My father always taught me that women and children should be seen and not heard. I'm beginning to see why."
"Yeah? Well, Zac happens to love when I talk. In fact, he encourages me to talk. He makes me think and he makes me see things differently than I used to. And he also taught me not to take any flak off of anyone. Starting with you and your barbarian cronies."
After a moment, their food arrived and Billy's furrowed brow didn't waiver as he sat back in his seat, stirring his soda pop with his straw. "So how did you end up with that guy, anyway? How does someone like...you...end up with someone like him...?"
Bessie's jaw dropped in protest. "What does that mean?"
"Come on. You know. A poor, washed-up has-been, a whopping eight years older than you? Going out with the judge's wealthy, young, innocent daughter? Please. I can't believe your father even allows it."
"He didn't at first," she replied confidently, her chin in the air. "He said the same thing you did, about how he's poor and such. I had to make him realize that doesn't matter to me. Money doesn't make a person--their heart does. And despite his sometimes hot temper, Zac has the kindest heart I've ever met. And we fell in love at first sight."
"Yeah, right," Billy scoffed.
"We did!" Bessie argued. "At the fair. I saw him looking at me on the fairgrounds. And a boy never looked at me before--"
"Well, you sure weren't the prettiest thing growing up."
Bessie glared at Billy's rudeness, instantly reminded of why she despised him. "Zac thinks I'm beautiful. And what he thinks is the only thing that matters."
"I didn't say you didn't grow up," he replied, suddenly changing his tune as he straightened up in his seat. "I just said you weren't always the prettiest. But you sure are pretty now."
Bessie felt herself begin to blush before she realized how annoyed she was.
Billy continued. "So this...this love at first sight thing. How does that work? How do you even know? I heard it's all hogwash."
"I suppose that's what it was," she replied, her heart soaring at any opportunity to talk about Zac. "We saw each other and I thought he was handsome. And then he gave me trick flowers during his act. Then we met later that night at the--well, we met later that night and we went for a walk and we talked. And we decided we liked each other. It didn't take me long to love him. Not long at all."
"What makes you love him?"
"Something deeper than words."
There was silence after that. Silence as the pair both pondered the question and the answer and further silence as they finally acknowledged the food on their plates. After her stomach was satisfied for the time being, Bessie asked him, "Why are you asking all these questions?"
"Huh?"
"About Zac. About the way I feel about him. Why?"
For the first time since they'd sat down, Billy began to blush and shift uncomfortably in his seat. "Well," he began. "Maybe--well--part of the reason I asked you here is--you see, I like this girl--"
"Oh, no," Bessie said, shaking her head and plopping her hot dog down onto her plate. "Oh, no, you don't. Don't you dare think you can bring me here and woo me and take me away--"
"No," he said, shaking his head. "No, it's not you, jeez. It's--" Then he lowered his voice. "It's Sue Wilkerson. I was going to ask her to the social before my dad made me take you instead."
"I was supposed to go with Zac," she said, her face falling.
"I gathered. That night was just so...wrong. You know, if I had been smart, we could have played that off and pretended to go together and then met our dates at the dance. Which, I guess, was what you and Zac did, anyway..."
"No," Bessie shook her head. "I didn't know he was coming."
"I suppose I deserved what I got that night. Ribs and all, maybe. For being so rude to you. Sue would never go for a guy so rude."
"And Zac would never go for a guy who called me names."
"He was right to defend your honor, you know. I've had a lot of time to think and reflect on my actions since I was out of commission and I owe quite a few people an apology for different things. I was hoping to apologize to Zac today, as well, and try to make amends, but I had no idea he was gone."
And there it was. The brutal, direct reminder that Zac was nowhere near close by. That she was sitting in a diner with Zac's sworn enemy, having a conversation over hot dogs...and she felt horrible about it. She felt like she was betraying Zac. No matter how much remorse Billy felt or how bad he wanted to apologize, it wouldn't change the betrayal she felt towards Zac because Zac didn't know any of Billy's intentions. Poor Zac was completely in the dark.
"He's coming back," she said, mustering up as much confidence as she could gather. "You can apologize to him when he comes home."
"If he comes home," he muttered.
"Excuse me?" She came at him incredulously.
"Come on," he said, shoving a french-fry into his mouth and talking with his mouth full. "He went to New York City, for crying out loud. The city of dreams and opportunity. And in the middle of a depression the country is in? I bet there's so much money to be made up there, why would they ever come home to boring, old Tulsa? All they needed was the ticket up there and they got it. It was only a matter of time. You had to know that."
Bessie could only stare at the brute across from her who continued to rudely shove food into his mouth. Could it be that he was voicing the very fears she feared on the inside? This boy who had absolutely no way of knowing what her fears and nightmares were? Did that mean they might come true? Was it possible that Zac could find so much fame and glory in the big city that he might never come home? That he really might forget she ever existed, getting lost in the lights and the people and the bustle of the city? After all, she was only one person. One small, tiny person in a world so large and vast...
Suddenly, Bessie wasn't hungry anymore. She shoved her half-eaten hot dog and the last half of her ice cream soda away from her and she felt like she was going to be sick. "Zac loves me," she whispered, mostly trying to convince herself.
"Sure, he does," Billy replied simply. "But for how long?"
"How dare you?" She finally erupted at him. "How dare you? You--you sit there and you apologize to me for being so rude and then you turn around and are just--as rude as you ever were before!"
"It's not rude, Bessie, it's reality!" He hissed harshly across the table. "This is real life. It's not some fantasy love story like you read in the old books, this is real. The reality is, he's a poor man who needs work and New York has work. Why the hell would he come home and be destitute again when he's making a living up there? And you're about to go off to school anyway, so what's it matter? Seriously, Bessie, think about it. I know you have been, I can tell."
Bessie glared across the table at him, more desperate than ever to conceal her emotions from him. "You want my advice on how to get Sue Wilkerson to like you? How about being nice? Just nice. Try listening and being understanding and, for the love of God, stop shoving that food into your mouth like a caveman! Maybe if you presented yourself like a sophisticated young man instead of a sloppy young boy, you might not have to try so hard to get her to like you. Why don't you try that? If you were half the man Zac is, she would fall head over heels in love with you. Some apology, Billy. Some apology, indeed."
With that, she stood from the booth, turned on her heel and made her way through the diner, Billy yelling in the background, "Hey! Hey, we're still eating!"
Bessie didn't care. If he was so insistent on paying for her food, he could have at it. Try as he might, there just wasn't a caring, sensitive bone in Billy Connors's body. There was no way they would ever be friends and she just knew that, no matter what, if he even attempted to apologize to Zac, all he would get is clocked right in the mouth. No. It was better that Billy just leave well enough alone and keep his distance.
Except the damned boy was just so persistent. As Bessie marched down the road in the hot, July sun, not having gotten far from the diner at all, Billy pulled up beside her in his car. "Bessie, I'm sorry," he called out the window of the moving automobile. "I mean it, okay? Maybe I don't know how to stop being a jerk. Maybe you could help me, you know? It's not like I have siblings or anybody influential to show me the way. I mean my dad tells stories for a living to get criminals off, you know? Just help me, okay? I really want to talk to Sue at the Independence Day picnic tomorrow but I don't want to screw it up. Okay? Please?"
Finally, Bessie stopped and huffed a breath as she stood and glared at Billy in the now-dormant automobile. She didn't know what came over her in the moment--boredom or desperation or her displeasure at the idea of walking all the way home in the scorching heat, but she finally conceded. "Fine," she said curtly as she opened the door and climbed in the passenger side. "Take me straight home. And on the way, I'll be glad to point out all the ways that you're a jerk and how not to be one."