Leaving the Bentleys, especially Mary, will hurt. If only there was a way to bridge these two time periods so that I could have all of the people I love in one place.
I pull on the clothes I arrived in: tattered Levi’s jeans and a thin button-down shirt. I grab the file I stole from Faust’s office and the file Wes gave me and tuck them both inside my shirt.
I glance at the clock next to Dean’s bed. It’s almost time for me to go, but I find that I can’t just run away. I have to at least say good-bye to Mary. I slip into the dark hallway and knock quietly on her bedroom door. “Who is it?” I hear her whisper through the thick wood panel.
“It’s me. I need to talk to you.”
“Come in!” Her voice is hushed and excited. I press my lips together, hating how much I know I’m going to disappoint her.
I ease the door open and shut it softly behind me. Mary is sitting on the twin bed closest to the window. The lights are out but the blackout curtains have been pulled back, and the full moon illuminates the room.
“I couldn’t sleep either.” Mary giggles, but when she sees my face, her smile fades. “Lydia, what’s wrong?”
I cross the room, to sit next to her on the bed. “There’s something I have to tell you,” I start.
“Okay,” she says slowly.
“You’re not going to like it.”
“Lydia, you’re starting to scare me. Why are you dressed like that? What’s going on?”
“I have to leave.” I say the words quickly, afraid I won’t be able to get them out.
“What are you talking about?” She laughs softly.
“I’m leaving here. Tonight.”
She shakes her head. “You’re not.”
“I am. I’m so sorry.”
“But I don’t understand; this is your home. Why would you leave?”
“I have to go. I wish things could be different, but this isn’t my home. Not really.”
“What are you saying?” Her voice rises, and she reaches forward to grasp my arm. I gently pry her fingers off me and take her hand in mine.
“Mary, I don’t think we’ll see each other again.”
“Why? Tell me why, Lydia.”
“I’m …” I turn away from her, looking out the window at the shadowy lawn. In the far corner I can see the dark mounds of Mrs. Bentley’s garden. I think of the dirt slipping loose and dry between my fingers. “I’m eloping. With Wes.”
“Really?” She squeezes my hand in hers, her voice dropping to a whisper.
I nod. “Really.”
“You can have the wedding here, though. We’ll have a big party and everything.” She smiles tentatively.
I look away. “No, we need to go now. Wes is getting shipped out. There’s no time.”
“So get married quick and then stay with us when he goes.” She’s so insistent, so eager. I knew she would be, but somehow it makes it worse. I wish that I didn’t have to lie to her again.
“We want it to be private, just us. Neither of us has any real family. We want to make one together. And I’m going to … train as a nurse and follow him overseas. Like you. You inspired me.” And it’s true. I’ve never met anyone like Mary before. She’s so open and bright and vibrant, and I hope I take a little bit of that with me when I leave.
“But we’ll write. Come back after the wedding,” she pleads.
I blink away the tears that threaten to fall. “I’ll try.”
“Lydia, I don’t want you to go.”
“I know, but I have to.”
She sits back, tears gathering in her eyes. “Wes is really the one?”
I think of how it felt to kiss him in the woods and it’s easy to say, “He is.”
“So you fell in love with a soldier and now you’re running off with him. You really are like the Lydia Bennet in Pride & Prejudice.” Mary smiles, though I see the tears streaming down her cheeks in silver tracks. I smile back, tasting salt on my tongue. And we sit there in the moonlight, crying and smiling at each other.
“If you have to go, then you have to go.” She struggles with the words. “Though I wish you wouldn’t.”
“I know.” I squeeze her hand again. “Will you tell your parents that I left, and why? That I said thank you—for taking me in, and trusting me when they didn’t have to. And that I’m sorry I’m leaving like this.”
“I will.”
“Thank you for believing me from the beginning. You fought for me, and I know that’s why your family helped me.”
“I knew you were trustworthy.” She smiles. A familiar guilt settles in my stomach, as heavy as stone.
“Mary.” I hesitate, searching for the words. “You’re going to be happy. In the future. You’ll get what you want … I know it.”
“Are you a fortune-teller now?” She laughs a little.
“Something like that.” I look over at the clock near her bed. Only a few minutes till midnight. Time to go.
“Will you let me climb out your window?” I ask.
“Of course.”
“I’ll miss you.” My voice cracks on the words.
“I’ll miss you too.” She leans forward and I rise to meet her, and the two of us hug tightly and don’t let go for a long time.
“You’re wrong, Lydia,” she finally says. We stay locked, our cheeks pressed tightly together. “You do have family. You have me.”
CHAPTER 19
Wes is waiting for me a few yards down from the Bentleys’ driveway. He sees my face and doesn’t say a word as he opens the passenger door of the army jeep. I slide into the vehicle and clench my hands in my lap. I hardly pay attention as Wes gets in and starts the engine. Instead I
