Resurrecting Harry (7 page)

His wife? Harry’s wife?
Was there a distinction? The questions made his head spin. The biggest part of what drove Erich’s desire for Bess was Harry’s memories of their past, but somehow, it was more than that too.

Only because it was better for the long-term goal, he kept his hands at his side and his thoughts to himself.

Bess waved off Martin’s suggestion and his hand. “I found my way here. I can find my way home. I’ve been doing it with and without Harry for quite some time.”

The bells above the door rang like a joyous celebration, marking Gail and Martin’s exit, but also like church bells at a funeral. Watching Bess leave with the Coopers — the last people on the planet he wanted her to spend time with — was a death knell all on its own.

“Mr. Welch!” Will’s booming voice shook his attention from the door. “Where’s your mind, son? I called your name three times.”

“I’m sorry. I was thinking about Mrs. Houdini and those people she was with.” Erich’s words sounded acidic to his own ears, even though he tried to hide how he really thought. As far as Will was concerned, Erich had no basis to dislike Martin.

“You’re right to be concerned.”

“So, you don’t think too much of that doctor, either?”

Will shook his head slowly and then walked behind the counter. Opening the till, he began counting down the register and putting the day’s profits into a dingy, canvas bag. “I used to think he was harmless enough. Arrogant and a little foolish, maybe, but not malicious.”

“But now?”

He shook his head. “All this spirituality taradiddle. Bess is still in mourning and Gail is taking advantage of that. From my perspective, she doesn’t care how much it hurts Bess, as long as the name Gail Cooper ends up carrying all the weight and respect she believes it deserves. Harry wouldn’t like what those two are doing, not one single bit.”

Erich nodded and leaned against the door frame. As he watched, Bess stood on the corner, conversing with the couple. “That poor woman is lost, and they are only leading her further astray.”

“I used to think Harry exaggerated the intentions of those two, never believed they were acting spitefully, but now, watching them with Bess, I have to wonder.”  Will paused, scraped his hand across his jaw. “Do me a favor. Make sure she’s always treated like a princess in here. It’s the least I can do for my old friend.”

Bess waved as Martin and Gail pulled away in the shiny, new Studebaker. In a muted red, it was one of the first cars she’d seen that wasn’t classic black. Some might say the color was ostentatious, but then flashy described Gail to a tee, and it was no secret Martin enjoyed showering gifts on his second wife.

Ten years had passed since Martin’s first wife, Louise, had died. Bess had never known the other woman, but Martin and Joseph spoke of her often. Both of them described her as very different from Gail. Sort of like how Erich was different from Harry, yet he stirred the same emotions in her.

But when you looked beyond the physical, Erich wasn’t all that different from her husband.

As the car rolled out of sight, Bess wrestled with the argument playing out between her heart and mind. Her house was in a state of disrepair and as much as she wanted to be a strong, independent woman, home maintenance fell outside her comfort zone. Erich had quickly fixed the furnace and did the dishes, even after a long, hard day at the deli. He didn’t shy from work and was polite enough.

But to repeatedly ask the same man — an unattached man at that — into her home seemed disloyal to Harry, and she couldn’t help but think she was only inviting gossip. People in this town talked. Gail was evidence enough of that.

I’m not inviting Erich in as a lover.
Yes, she was lonely; the empty space beside her in bed kept her awake at night, but now wasn’t the time to fill the void with another body. She wasn’t like Martin. For her, it might never be the right time.

Bess sighed and brushed a stray strand of hair from her eyes. The blood stains she’d found on the tails of Erich’s shirt were none of her business. She shouldn’t be prying, but he was injured in some shape or way. The moment she’d laid eyes on the red blotches, the same motherly instinct that pushed her to volunteer at the hospital week in and week out had risen up.

The part of her that took over when she’d looked into his eyes could hardly be described as maternal.

Harry had always told her to follow her heart, but would he feel the same way if he knew the way it fluttered every time she looked at Erich?

A firm decision in mind, she pivoted and walked the few steps back to the deli. She pulled on the door handle, but found it locked. She peered through the window and expected to see Will wiping down the display cases or sweeping the floors, instead it was Erich who maneuvered the broom over the worn tile.

Hoping she’d made the right decision and wasn’t following lust down a dangerous back alley, she knocked on the glass. He looked over his shoulder and moved toward her, leaving the broom to rest against one of the tables. A quick twist of the deadbolt allowed her access.

“Did you forget something, Bess?” His tone was warm and inviting. Was he happy to see her again?

“No. I—” The words slipped away. Standing next to this man turned her mind to mush, which was ridiculous. Someone her age should have a better handle on her emotions. Then she remembered the stained shirt. She’d risk being labeled meddlesome to know. “I wanted to apologize. I promised you that I’d launder your clothes and return them to you today.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m grateful for your help and the clothes you gave me.”

“I’ll get them mended once I get home. I would have done so last night, but I needed to soak your shirt, what with the blood stains.”

His face fell. He hadn’t meant for her to learn of whatever injury he was trying to hide, that much was obvious.

“I probably should have mentioned that when I rolled in the street to push the child away...” He rocked his weight between his heels, searching for the right words.

“You cut yourself?”

“No.” Erich paused, and his eyes flickered back and forth. Harry would say he was using the moment to prepare a lie, but she’d seen his selflessness in saving a child and didn’t believe that. “I tore one of my stitches.”

She clutched her purse tighter “Stitches? But why?”

“I had surgery not too long ago.”

She stepped closer and reached out, but just as suddenly, she stopped. “Goodness. What in the world are you doing carrying dishpans and jumping in front of cars?”

He chuckled and dropped his gaze to his shoe. “As you pointed out, I impetuously came to a new town without more than two dimes to rub together. As far as yesterday goes, any man...”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed for saving that child.”

His hands found his pockets as his shoulders folded in. “Stop! Bess. Don’t make me out to be a hero just for doing the right thing.”

Modesty.
Had Harry been modest a single day of his life?
As much as the dichotomy intrigued Bess, she bit her tongue. Why was the vow to stop comparing those two proving difficult to keep? “If that’s your wish, I won’t mention it again. That’s not the reason I came back anyway.”

His eyes widened, and he stepped forward. “No? Then why?”

“I had a favor, but now that I know you’re recovering from surgery, it seems too much.”

Twisting and fidgeting like a restless child, Erich didn’t seem to be in pain. “I promise you I’m fine. Almost fully recovered. Now tell me, what is the favor you need?”

She waved her hands in front of her face. “It just wouldn’t be right to ask, while you’re still healing. My friend Martin is a doctor. You should have him look at your incision.”

Erich’s fingers curled into tight fists. “There isn’t any reason for that. Whatever it is that you need me to do, I promise I’m man enough to take care of it.”

A rush of warmth touched her cheeks, and she looked away. He probably spoke of his well-being, but his declaration of virility had sent Bess’s thoughts in an inappropriate direction. He’d ruffled her feathers in a way that Harry had only been able to do.  “Oh dear, Mr. Welch.  I-I-I it’s not a question of your manhood.”

He chuckled as he stepped closer. He must have noticed her fluster, and now he was trying to set her at ease by getting back to the question of the hour. “Please, Bess, what do you need?”

“You did a good job with that old furnace last night, and I’m sure you noticed it wasn’t the only thing broken in the house. I need someone who can help with maintenance, and you need a place to stay. I thought we might be able to trade services.” As soon as the last words spilled from her mouth, she second guessed them, but it was too late to turn back now.

A huge grin showed his straight, white teeth. “You want me to move in with you?”

“I have a long list of home repairs I need done in exchange.”

“It sounds like a good deal for both of us,” he answered. “If you want to wait while I finish sweeping the dining room, I can walk you home.”

She nodded and settled herself in a booth. “This is nothing more than a friendly exchange of services, mind you. Two friends, helping each other out.”

“Of course.” Erich felt like dancing as he picked the broom back up and returned to the task Bess had interrupted.

I’m going home with Bess
.

She could disguise it all by calling it “mutual favors,” but he knew the bond between their souls was being rebuilt. He’d convince her to forget the séances and the Coopers in no time flat.

He finished his chores, put away the cleaning supplies and then took a napkin from the metal holder on the counter, scribbling on it with a pencil he found in the pocket of his apron. “Will’s gone for the day, but I can leave him a note in case he beats me here in the morning...to let him know that I found a place to stay.”

He laid his hastily written explanation next to the cash register and left his apron on the hook on the kitchen door before crossing the dining room and holding the door for Bess. On the street, he twisted the key in the lock, not an easy task with the excited tremor in his hand.

The moment he’d been longing for — escorting his wife home — had arrived. He offered his arm and waited for her to take his elbow.

Her eyes narrowed as she twisted out of reach, continuing up the street without him.

“Bess! What’s wrong?” He caught up to her and tried to take her elbow.

She deflected his advance and pivoted to him. “I thought I was clear that this is a business arrangement. I’m a widow and have no desire for a companion.” She dropped her voice to a harsh whisper. “What would people say?”

“I don’t really care! I only offered you guidance and stability.” He stepped back, but couldn’t help thinking of that old adage about protesting too much. Did this harsh reaction mean she was attracted to him? If so, she tempered it with equal amounts of guilt.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You are in my employ, maybe a friend, but certainly nothing more than that.”

“Of course,” Erich said the words he guessed she wanted to hear, even though he didn’t feel them. He doubted she meant hers either. Everyone knew tough-as-nails Bess, but she had a vulnerable side that she’d only displayed to him. If she knew Harry’s soul lived in his body, she’d let him close.

He’d give anything to have her hand glide into his as they walked together and hear her admit she hungered for his touch as much as he did hers, but he also knew she’d never be unfaithful to Harry or his memory.

When making deals with Jaden, he’d never really considered what it’d take to make her trust him. He’d been so certain that instant connection they had always shared would reignite itself. Her offer of a room gave him hope that she felt something for him. Her reaction to his arm told a different story. But which one was a true reflection of her feelings?

“It’s a preposterous idea any way,” Bess snapped. “A man your age should be focused on finding a wife and having children. Family. That’s what’s most important in this life.” She clamped her mouth tight and pursed her lips. Walls visibly crumbled and the too familiar grief took their place.

Erich wondered if she held Harry accountable that they’d never started a family. He knew the answer to the question he was about to ask. He was well aware of the pain not having children caused, but to Bess, Erich shouldn’t have a clue. “Did you want children?”

“My husband would have been a wonderful father. Yesterday...that child...Harry would never let a toddler get out of his sight like that woman did.”

Why hadn’t he connected these dots yesterday? When he allowed himself to think about it, he now knew the answer to the question he asked, “Is that why it affected you so much?”

Bess stopped at the corner and waited for a car to clear the intersection before starting across the street. Only when they were on the other side did she continue. “Being deprived of something makes you see the world’s inequities a little clearer.” Her matter-of-fact tone did little to hide the jealousy that kept her words sharp as knives.

“Children are fast. It wasn’t the mother’s fault.” No matter how true the words, Erich knew they wouldn’t change her feelings. Harry believed their lives to be full, but knew how much Bess longed for what they’d never had.

“If she had to go just one day without, I bet she’d keep a tighter hand on that precious baby.”

“You think Harry understood that?”

She didn’t answer, but continued walking up the street. To resist the temptation to touch her again, he pushed his hands in his pockets and matched her stride. She continued a moment later by saying, “Family was important to Harry. His parents and siblings, mine too, he held them all dear. We used to believe we’d be blessed when the good Lord saw fit. Sometimes I wonder if he withheld his gift because our focus was so firmly placed in our work.”

We?
Even though she made it sound like they both held some responsibility
,
he knew better. Harry constantly drove the two of them further, always wanted more fame. Did Bess know he only wanted it to provide for her and that someday family? Erich suspected she shrouded Harry’s desires with a “we” for the benefit of the stranger she thought he was. For so many years, he’d clung to the notion they’d one day be blessed. In her mind, his drive was the sin and never experiencing the joy of children its punishment.