When Abigail told Frank that Emily had been going to join him in Chicago the night she died it had staggered him. They were talking, sitting side by side, on the front porch swing. The afternoon had passed into the hour which was half day and half night.
“You have to believe me, I never knew she was going to follow me to Chicago. Or that she felt that way about me. Sure, I was in love with her, like I said before, a puppy-dog sort of love, but it wasn’t reciprocated–or so I thought back then. We were friends who enjoyed spending time together. I cared deeply for her. I adored her kids. I’d asked her out many times, but she’d always said no. She thought I was too young for her and by being with me she’d ruin my future.”
“She thought she wasn’t good enough for you, was the truth of it. That’s what I think. She was divorced, with two kids, an abusive ex-husband, jealous boyfriends and a stalker. She had a lot of dangerous baggage. While you were just starting out, on your way up in the world, headed for Chicago and a prestigious police career, she was trying to escape a bad past. She was trying to have a better life.
“It could have been Emily was in love with you, Frank, but denied it to herself, until–poof–one day she looked at how lousy her life was here and resolved to begin fresh in Chicago, too. Or try to. With you, if you let her. No matter how much older than you she was. Only she didn’t have time to tell you any of that before she died. Maybe she was going to take her chances and surprise you in Chicago. She was just going to show up and hope for the best.”
“You could be right. It was so long ago, and by my memory Emily did react strangely to the news I’d gotten the Chicago job. She was happy for me yet from the moment I told her she’d avoided me. I thought she was mad at me for leaving or had other troubles in her life. I was so excited about the new job, running back and forth to Chicago and preparing to leave town I never gave it much thought. I was young and foolish. I couldn’t see what was right in front of my eyes.”
“Emily might have loved you and avoided you because she was afraid she’d show her true feelings.” Abigail studied Frank’s profile in the moon’s light. He must have been handsome thirty years ago, and he still was. He had a rugged face which age often matured but didn’t actually change too much. She could imagine an older woman falling for the younger him.
“It floors me Emily could have loved me and I didn’t know it,” the words were spoken with sadness. “Lost chances. Roads not taken. I keep wondering how different my life might have been if I’d known. If she’d shown up in Chicago and wanted to be with me.”
“Would you have spent time with her, dated her…married her?”
“I don’t know. I might have dated her. I really had a crush on her. But I was so young. And I met Jolene that first year in Chicago and she was the love of my life. No doubt about it. She gave me a beautiful marriage and a son I adore. I wouldn’t change any of that for the world. What would have happened if I’d been involved with someone else that first year? I don’t know.” Since he’d learned of Emily’s secret love for him and how she’d died he’d been retrospective and more than a little melancholy.
“What hurts most is if Emily wouldn’t have loved me and wanted to move to Chicago to be with me; if I wouldn’t have been the reason she broke it off with Mason that night…she might still be alive. I can’t bear I might have been the cause of her death, indirectly or not, and I never had an inkling of any of it. It’s been hard these last few months, remembering Emily and that time, then learning she and her children have been dead all these years, murdered; and she’d actually loved me. It’s all been so hard.”
“It must be a shock.” Abigail laid her hand softly on his arm and their eyes met. A leaf had fluttered down from the trees and had found a home on his shoulder. “Frank, it wasn’t your fault. Emily would have broken off her relationship with Mason anyway. Any reason she may have given for leaving him or this town would have pushed him over the edge as easily, I’m sure. He killed her because he’d lost her, and was jealous, was unstable even then, not because she loved you.”
Abigail believed that and hoped Frank believed it, too. Breathing in the chilliness of the September evening, she could taste fall. For once, her cast didn’t itch. They were on her porch swing soaking in the night and each other’s company, light seeping out from the windows illuminating their faces. Frank had needed someone to talk to and she had let him.