When shedidn’t answer but kept running her hand over the grass as if in atrance, Crispin suddenly found himself transported to anotherplace, another time, a time he had long forgotten until that verysecond.
“What are you doing, Gwen?”
“Looking for a four-leafed clover.”
“I can’t believe you still think those exist.”
“I do because they do exist. I know, because I found one...once.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“When was that?”
“I was seven. I remember it clearly.”
“Where did this happen?” he asked skeptically.
“Outside my house one summer when we lived in Toronto. I wassitting on the grass, searching as I often did. My mother said if Iever found one, I’d be the luckiest girl in the world. So I made itmy mission. I was quite determined at seven-years-old. Mom probablyjust said it to keep me busy throughout the summer. I don’t thinkshe actually believed I’d find one... but I did.”
“You found one?” Placing his hands on her shoulders, he studiedher closely as of searching for something. “What did shesay?”
After aprolonged pause and sharing the same profound questioning stare,she continued, “I never got to show her.”
And that’s whenit hit him like a freight train. Those eyes, that face, how couldhe have not recognized her? “My God…” He stroked a thumb over hercheek. “Gwen, I’m sorry. I got there as fast as I could.”
“What?” For a second, she couldn’t even breathe. “Wait… Wasthat you?” When he smiled and nodded, she nearly cried. “No way!You were the boy who saved me?”
“Is that how you saw it?”
“Is there any other way to see it?”
He shook hishead and chuckled. “Incredible...” Crispin said in disbelief.“After all these years… how is it even possible?”
“I have no idea. But it makes perfect sense, this attraction toyou, why I feel so safe with you.”
“I remember, I was about eight-years-old,” Crispin continued.“I was sitting on the front porch of the latest of many fosterhomes, watching you play in the grass in front of the house nextdoor.”
“Foster home? You?”
“One of many,” he said with a melancholy smile. “I’d beenliving there a week when I first saw you. So very small anddistracted you were, picking clovers. I often watched you, butbeing so enthralled, you never noticed me.”
“I was determined to find a four-leafed clover that day.” Gwenrecalled the event clearly.
“What happened next?” Crispin quirked an eyebrow. “Do youremember?”
Gwen noddedsadly. “I found one. I actually found one! I was about to runinside to show my mother...”
“When those little bastards surrounded you and knocked it outof your hand,” Crispin spoke through clenched teeth as if seeing itall over again. “I was overcome with murderous visionseight-year-olds should never have. But those bullies had it coming.I only tolerated them because it was me they picked on. But you,you didn’t deserve that. You were just a little girl minding herown business.”
“I was devastated and scared all at once. I never saw themcoming... or you. When you showed up out of nowhere and stood infront of me, I ran for it and didn’t look back. I’ve oftenwondered... What happened next, Crispin?”
“I had the shit kicked out of me, that’s what.”
“Oh... I’m sorry.” She blinked back a tear. “By the time Icalled my mother, all of you had gone. She told me not to worryabout it. Some silly brush-off about boys being boys.” As shespoke, Gwen was overcome with emotion and overwhelmed withquestions. “Crispin?” Unable to resist, she took his hand and heldit to her chest. She didn’t even worry that he would pull away. Andhe didn’t. Not this time.
“She was right,” Crispin said, resting his forehead againsthers. “Boys can be cruel. Too bad about your four-leafed clover.Did you ever find it again?”
A smile tookover her face. “I did. He walked into the shop where I work theother day. Only my lucky clover wasn’t the green leafy type at all.He was dressed in black.”
Chapter 25
Have you evergotten caught between clarity and confusion? Stuck somewherebetween elation and a fear so great, you couldn’t see straight?Well, that’s where Crispin’s state of mind was as he weaved his wayalong the busy London sidewalk with Gwen’s hand in his. Ever sincediscovering they shared a common past, he didn’t know what tothink. It was such an impossibility, yet here they were, so manyyears later, reunited. He didn’t know if he wanted to run away fromthis reality or towards it. And what of their current relationship?Did this change things, alter the course? Of course, it did. Forbetter or worse, he couldn’t say.
Gwen did herbest to keep pace with Crispin’s relentless stride. Despite histight grip on her hand, she couldn’t help but wonder if he wouldrather be alone. It was a lot to digest, this information. Whileshe was positively delighted to be re-united with thateight-year-old boy who so gallantly intervened on her behalf, allthose years ago, she could sense Crispin’s inner turmoil over theirshared past. Then, of course, she couldn’t help but want to ask himso many questions. Then there was the knowledge of him growing upin foster homes. The idea saddened her deeply. She wanted to knowmore but feared upsetting him further. Obviously, it was a sorespot and it still affected him. How could it not? She had seen itin his eyes, recognized it in his voice, the hurt.
“Crispin, slow down, please.” He hesitated for all of a second,but kept walking, heading somewhere only he knew. “Hey, what’s thehurry? My feet are kinda killing me.” Again, he ignored her. Theycontinued walking a distance in silence. Somehow they reached theRiver Thames and facing forward, Crispin crossed the street. Onlywhen she stumbled onto the curb and nearly fell, did hestop.
“Oh, hey… sorry.” He caught her quick and tugged her into hisarms, ignoring the stares of those who passed. “You okay? Did youhurt yourself?”
Gwen mighthave answered if he hadn’t made it impossible by smothering herface into his chest. She might
