Finished Canon/Conventional Couple Fics. These stories pick up from events in the show. All complete stories from the main Canon/CC board will eventually be moved here.
NOTE: I have posted this many other times and places, but it's been a very long time. I have FINALLY finished this, so a lot of you might remember this and be happy! Sorry it took so long! -Daisy
TITLE: Fuel
AUTHOR: Daisy
E-MAIL: A_Rainy_Day_In_April@hotmail.com
RATING: MATURE
CATEGORY: Futuristic, Dark
SUMMARY: Dark fic about Liz. Max and Isabel left with Tess after Departure. Michael stayed.
DISCLAIMER: You know it, I don’t own it, they all belong to the Jason Katims, Melinda Metz, you know the drill
DISTRIBUTION: Just ask.
FEEDBACK: is welcomed
AUTHOR’S NOTE: The song “Bad Day” belongs to Fuel.
2012
Prologue
I wasn’t looking for her. I knew I would find her soon, but I wasn’t planning on today. I was merely going to town to find our house, to see if it was still there. To see Mom and Dad. I knew Liz’s plans for college, and I assumed she was still in Boston. It never occurred to me that she would be in Roswell.
But I saw her.
The same beautiful long hair. Not much taller. Not much difference at all, in fact. Except the look in her eyes was harder. Her face wasn’t relaxed. Her body was tougher. Her voice was still music to my ears, but her words were harsher. More intent on hurting people. But when she saw me . . . I knew that she still loved me. And I don’t care about her husband. I hope he finds out. He might already know about me, and our past, but he can't possibly understand the depth of my love. The amount of love it took to fuel the patience that I've had.
I pulled into the driveway and got out slowly, hoping that Mom would be home. I doubted that Dad would but Mom was usually home this time of day. Around ten thirty on a Tuesday morning. I walked up to the front door and knocked. Awkwardly. I heard the footsteps; not my mother’s or father’s. They were heavy with dread. Familiar. But different. And when the door opened I was shocked. Shocked in more than one sense. Shocked that I felt something other than hate, anger, and a sense of duty. And shocked that the face that stared back at me was Liz’s.
She stood there, calmly, looking at me curiously. She tilted her head to the side, and blinked. She opened her mouth but nothing came out. I did nothing more than stand there before she grabbed my arms, pulled me inside the house with an unknown strength, and smothered me in hugs, kisses, and tears. And when we started talking hours later, I understood her fuel for her patience.
Last edited by UnaBellaChicaSueno on Sun May 25, 2003 12:42 am, edited 9 times in total.
I turned the key in the lock and opened the door. The air was heavy, as usual. I could hear music in the background. Sheryl Crow, one of her old CDs, was being played. “And I shall believe.” Ah, Liz must be home.
“Liz? I’m home.” I walked into our house. Ah, there she was. What was wrong with her? She had her head down on the kitchen table, crying again. She refused to look up at me. “Liz, babe. I’m here. What’s wrong?” She sniffed and finally looked up, avoiding all eye contact with me.
< She left a note that said I'm sorry, I had a bad day>
“David, I’m sorry. I had a bad day.” I already knew it. I stood up and started the coffee maker.
“I’ll make you some coffee. It’ll help.” Nothing ever helped. But I didn’t mind. I knew she was going through some tough stuff right now, with the anniversary of Alex’s death coming up, and the anniversary of when he disappeared. She always got down this time of year. So I was patient and was just waiting for it to take its toll.
“So what’s wrong?” I asked. She stared at her hands.
“Nothing.” I know her better than that. I’m not stupid.
<And she swears there's nothing wrong>
“What’s wrong, Liz?”
“I swear, nothing’s wrong!”
<I hear her playing that same old song>
Same question. Same reply.
<She said I would not understand>
“You wouldn’t understand.”
I glanced over at her. Once we moved back to Roswell and I bought the house, she had insisted on working from home. A four bedroom, three bathroom house for two people was kind of crazy, but I loved this house, and it was wonderful. Liz had burst into tears when I showed her the house I had bought as a surprise. She never told me why. Maria had nearly cried, and Maria never cries. Instead Maria barreled through the house, searching room by room for something. She had been looking for something. When I asked her, she had just said something that the former owners might have left something there.
Murray Lane wasn’t that far away from the Crashdown Café where Liz’s parents still lived. That was one of the reasons Liz used, saying she wanted to work from the home. She had gone on a decorating craze for the house. The guest bedroom was amazing. Leopard print pillows, purple walls, red sheets and comforter. It was a designer bedroom. The first time Kyle had seen it, he had traced the lining of the comforter, and the pillows and sighed. He said it reminded him of a girl he used to know in high school. Michael refuses to come visit us. He says he used to know the people who lived here, and it had too many bad memories. Sometime I wonder if there’s something I don’t know.
The room Liz claimed as her office had been recently painted a brilliant white before we bought it. She had freaked out, and painted it a dark green color. She had also added a bed, a desk, and decorated the walls with posters of space and the atomic chart. She even bought an iguana and put it in a cage. It was more of a bedroom than an office, but who was I to criticize? Whatever made her happy. She spent a lot of her time in her office. Sometimes it seemed our marriage has been worse since we moved back to Roswell.
“Here you go.” I poured her a cup of coffee and placed it down in front of her. I started to turn back around. She was looking around in her pockets. I frowned. She had started up smoking again recently. What had made her do that? “Liz.”
“What?” I blanched. Her tone was harsher than usual. But not so harsh considering some of her past words.
“Here’s your coffee.” She knew what I wasn’t saying and ignored me. She took her coffee and sipped it. It never burned her. She continued to search her pockets.
“Ah, found them. I’m going outside.” Liz stood up roughly, and grabbed her coffee cup. Her hot coffee splashed over the rim and onto her wrist and the floor. She cried out and dropped her mug. It hit the floor in a million pieces. I reached out for her but she back away, tripping over her shoelace. It popped as it broke. Liz brought her hand up to her mouth, trying to blow away the burn. When she tripped, her hand rubbed against her mouth and smeared her red lipstick across her face.
<She spilled her coffee, broke a shoelace.
Smeared the lipstick on her face
Slammed the door and said I'm sorry,
I had a bad day again>
“Damn it!” she yelled. Her wrist was turning a slight red. It must have burned like hell.
“Here, I’ll get you some ice,” I offered, starting towards the freezer.
“No, you won't. I’m going outside!” Liz yelled, turning around and stalking outside. A champagne glass fell and shattered as the door slammed.
I started smoking a week after they left. Maria couldn’t believe it, but Kyle hadn't been too surprised. Maria had her cedar oil and he had his weight lifting. Michael wasn’t really surprised, he always said I needed some sort of unhealthy addiction. His unhealthy addiction was his argument skills used profusely with Maria. What did I have? I had cigarettes. And I still do.
And now, eleven years later, I was sitting on the back porch of the Evans’ house smoking like a chimney stack. It wasn’t David’s fault. How was he suppose to know that the house he bought was previously the Evans’? He wasn’t. But it hurt all the same. Phillip and Diane had finally left Roswell. I think they moved to the East Coast, away from all the memories. I had fled to the East Coast too, after graduation. Their ghosts still haunted me.
I haven't smoked in years. But moving here brought back all the memories I had tried so hard to forget. And now, here I was. With my fifth bad day in a row. We’ve only lived here for three months. And for three months, my marriage-which had been so good when we lived in Boston- was now on the rocks. And it was rocky purely because of my past.
The darkness was settling. The moon was still struggling to come out. I’m always glad for the high shrubbery and fences the Evans’ had. The neighbors- the snobby bitchy socialites- were always asking me about my marriage, how it was and all that. They apparently never saw the dark figure sneak into my house during the day or else they wouldn’t bother asking.
I saw David’s car pull out of the driveway ten minutes after I went outside. I knew if I went inside, the pieces of the coffee mug would still be there. Coffee would still be on the floor, and the champagne glass I heard break would still be broken. David always made me clean up my own messes. He knew what was good for me.
His voice didn’t scare me even though it should have.
“If he knows what’s good for you, then why did he just leave?” I knew he would come. He had been coming for five days now. And of course he knew what I was thinking.
I smiled and took a drag on my cigarette before answering. “Because he knows that what I want him to do.” I let the cigarette smoke fill my lungs before blowing it back out, thoroughly enjoying this. “You poison my blood just like the smoke poisons my lungs.” He was still standing behind the tree, half his body visible.
“That’s comforting to know.” I love cigarettes. They’re wonderful. He’s wonderful. I love him even more.
“You can come out of the shadows. The neighbors can't see you. They never do. And I don’t care.” He stepped closer to me.
“We can't do this anymore, Liz. We have to stop this.” I took a deep breath of my cigarette and blew out in his direction.
“You say that every time. You even said that this afternoon while we were in my bed.”
“You’re destroying yourself.”
“You destroyed me a long time ago.” My words were spoken without anger, without hatred. I had given up on being angry with him.
“I didn’t mean to.”
“Well you did.” He was standing at my feet now, his hands in his pocket.
“Liz. This has to stop. We’re going to make a mistake.” I smile up at him, but it’s not a real smile. I don’t remember the last time I smiled for real. He’s so gorgeous. How did I ever live without him?
“You never make mistakes, Max.” He cautiously sat down next to me.
“Yes I do. I made a mistake when I left with Tess and Isabel. I should have stayed, like Michael. I should have stayed with you.” Here we go with the guilt trip again. Max was always placing the guilt on him. It drove me crazy.
“Max, have you not learned a thing these past eleven years while we were separated? You can't undo the past.” Well, technically that was a lie, and he let me know that with a look. “You know what I mean. It was hard enough for you to come back to Earth. You couldn’t have known what was to happen. You knew I was going to move on. You knew that.” Big lie.
“You used to be better at lying. Remember your whole ‘I want to love normal boys’ speech? I believed it.” Of course he caught my lie. He had learned his lesson a long time ago on that.
“If I remember correctly, it made you cry.”
“How would you know? If I remember correctly, you ran out of there before you saw me.” I hate it when we pick at our memories. But that’s all we have. Memories, our past. We don’t have the present. We own the past.
“I watched you cry from outside the window. I hid in the bushes. And besides, Maria told me.” The moon was out. It fell right across his face, lighting up his beautiful face. My hands started to shake. Damn.
He gently took the cigarette out of my hand and placed it against his own lips. Who would have guessed the king of another planet smoked . “I know you. I would tell Isabel every day, ‘I hope Liz has moved on. I hope she isn't sitting in our booth at the Crashdown, thinking about me. I hope she isn't dwelling over me.’” He laughed shortly . “Izzy would laugh hysterically at me . She said I was just as bad as lying as you were.” He took a drag and sat for a moment. “She knew I wanted you to be here on Earth, still in love with me. Still thinking about me. Not with another guy.” We had been together for five days and were just now crossing unfamiliar territory. I had to touch him. I put my hand on his arm.
“Max. I was. I am. I’m still in love with you and I always have been. When I met David, he reminded me so much of you I kept getting the two of you mixed up. I would call him Max, but he would understand. He grew up here, and went to East Roswell. He met me at Boston University. He knew about the three of you disappearing. He knew part of my past.” He sighed and inhaled, staring at his hands where the cigarette was dying.
“Just tell me something. Do you love him?” I couldn’t help the haunted smile that he didn’t see. Talk about history repeating itself.
“Not like I love you,” I whispered. He must have caught the irony because he looked up at me. Eleven years had only made him older, wiser, and handsomer. He was all mine.
“You’re his, though. You married him. I just slept with Tess.” I snorted. I couldn’t help myself.
“Gimme the damn cigarette.” I grabbed it right from his mouth and inhaled, nice and long. Okay. Calm. Down. “Okay. You just slept with her. That is the biggest bullshit. You were with her! You left me for her! You thought she was pregnant! You gave up everything you had just because she said she was pregnant! You didn’t even care about her! One kiss from me, and you’re in love with me again! ME! Who have you loved since you were six? Who were you madly in love with? Who was your make out partner with for one year straight?! Who is the love of your life? ME!!!! Damn it, Max! ‘You married him!’” I mocked him. “I just slept with Tess. Wake up and smell the toxic smoke,” I told him, blowing the smoke straight into his face. He never answered and didn’t blink.
I stood up and took the last of the cigarette. “I’m going in.” I whirled around and went inside. I heard the door slam behind me, and the crunch of glass under my feet, Yep. David had left my mess for me to clean up. Well I wasn’t going to this time. This time, he was going to see my past. Meet my past. Head on collusion. No warning.
I felt dirty, like I had been rolling around in the dirt. Usually I was quite comfy in tight jeans, tight shirts and boots. But not all I could think about was getting out of these clothes. So I went into the room- Max’s old room, my office- that I had been sleeping in for the past few nights. I pulled out some different clothes out of the drawers, loose jeans and one of Max’s old button up shirts, and started to change.
I never heard him open the door and follow me in, but I could feel his eyes watching me as I stripped down. He didn’t move or say anything, just stood in the doorway, watching me.
“I used to think that we would get married, and one day move back here into my parents’ house after they retired and wanted to move away,” he said slowly. “But I should have known better. Now you're married to someone else, and we have to sneak around. Dreams don’t come true.”
NO! Dreams do come true! You came back to me! I wanted to yell that at him. But I didn’t.
I buttoned three buttons on my shirt, and glanced up at him. He was still watching me. Max slowly held his hand out for me to take. And I took it. He pulled me to the front door, and into the night. Neither of us bothered to lock the door. I didn’t know where we were going, and I didn’t care. All that mattered was that I was running down the street with Max, in the shadows to his new Jeep, and I was going into the unknown. With Max.
She left the front door unlocked. I wanted to give her a few hours to herself. I never dreamed she would leave. Her car was still here. Her car keys, her purse. She didn’t even clean up her mess. But where was she at 2:30 in the morning? I cleaned up her mess silently, and tossed and turned the entire night. Finally, at seven o’clock the next morning, I called Maria. I didn’t know if she would be up, but I didn’t care.
“Is Liz there? Maria, please. Is she there?” I could Michael and Alexandria playing in the background. And another deeper, female voice.
“Liz? No, she’s not here. Why?”
“Maria, is that Max? I thought he went to see Liz yesterday.” It was the other woman. Suddenly it sounded like Maria was trying to cover up the phone.
“Isabel!” she hissed. I had heard her. Her voice became louder. “No, David, we haven't seen her. I’ll let you know if she calls or shows up. Why, what happened?” Maria was always curious about our life.
“She had a bad day again, and I left last night to let her cool off. She wasn’t home when I got here in the middle of the night,” I sighed.
“Oh, I’m sure she’s fine, maybe she’s at her parents’ house. Well, gotta go. Bye.” She hung up quickly.
I put the phone back down in the cradle slowly. “Is that Max? I thought he went to see her yesterday.” “Isabel!”
Max. Isabel.
The names were familiar. I know I had heard them before. Where?
It took five minutes of rummaging throw my brain before I looked over at the pictures Liz had sitting on the coffee table. My glance landed on three teenagers standing by a tree talking, oblivious to the picture being taken. One of them was a sullen looking Michael. One of the others was a tall blonde who would have passed for a model in training. The other was a tall dark man who looked like just an ordinary guy. But I knew where I had heard those names before. And seen that picture.
Max. Max Evans was the name of the man who had disappeared with his sister Isabel and friend Tess Harding when I was in high school, before I met Liz. The one Liz had dated. The one who had broken Liz’s heart. My wife.
Her “bad days” and the hours or Gomez and Sheryl Crow were making sense now.
I am home. Not the Crashdown. Not my Boston apartment. Definitely not the place where I live with my husband. But I am home. In the arms of Max Evans. Also a king. But I only know him as Max.
It’s sunrise. I can tell by the way the light is hitting my face. I stretch my arms out, and look over into the face of my gorgeous love. My Max.
The first time he had done once he had returned was buy the property in the desert where the Pod Chamber and granolith was on, and build a beautiful house on it. As a king, even if he was away from his world, was given unlimited supplies, which meant he had more money than his old boss Brody Davis. Once I had seen the house, I knew he had planned on sharing with me. It was perfect. All wooden floors, beautiful furniture, it had Isabel’s touch. The beautiful wooden furniture had an unearthly tone about them. And I knew that they were unearthly. The landscape was nothing but desert. The sky light provided the natural lighting during the day. And in the morning, on this glorious morning, his wide windows in the bedroom greeted us with the sunrise.
I can't help but trace the outline of his face. He’s here with me. Now. Today. Not on some foreign planet light years away. Granted, nothing is perfect yet. Yet. Key word.
For some reason, David pops into my head. Could I really just leave him? Just abandon him and fall back into another man’s arms? He’s don’t nothing but love me without questioning my actions for so long. I do care for him. He’s been so good to me. But he’s not Max. I can't live without Max. And I haven’t really lived since he left me.
He’s awake. His eyes are still closed, but he’s awake, I know it. His arm snakes around my back and pulls my flush against his. Eyes still closed, he leans in and kisses my neck. Perfect aim.
“I like it when you’re naked,” he whispers, planting soft kisses up and down my neck. My chest. My face.
“I’m not complaining either,” I tell him, reaching behind him to the nightstand for the glass of wine. I take a sip and hand it to him. Apparently he had grown a tolerance to alcohol on his years on Antar. We both had more than a few glasses of wine last night. The wine sloshes around in my head for a few moments, my view becoming fuzzy and wobbly, and the roar in my eyes is deafening. After a few moments, it clears, and I focus on the sight before me, a beautiful man, lying naked next to me. A man that I loved. The only man I have ever truly loved.
I can’t help myself. I lean over and kiss him fully on the mouth. I like the way he tasted, mixed with wine, and apparently he likes the way I tasted. Nothing could stop either one of us from attacking each other in with nothing but pure love and lust. Oh, there’s nothing better than making love first thing in the morning.
It takes us both a few minutes to realize that the phone is ringing shrilly. I moan at the loss of his hands and mouth against me as he reaches over and picks up the phone. “Hello?” he mumbles, his eyes still on me. “Yeah, hold on.” Max kisses me once more before he handed me the phone.
There are only four people on Earth who knows Max is back. One of them being Isabel, and she wouldn’t call this early. In fact, I highly doubt that she was even up yet. Out of the other three, one of the being too young to even understand where her aunt and uncle had been her entire life, the other two had interrupted Max and I numerous other times during our life. But only one of them would call Max at day break and ask for me. So I humbly take the phone.
“This had better be good, Maria, because you just interrupted what would have been great sex.” Maria giggles in total Maria fashion.
“Thanks for the information. I’d ask for details, but seeing as I have my daughter in the room, you’re spared this once. But we have bigger problems. David called a little while ago, asking for you. Isabel thought it was Max, and mentioned his name. And the fact that you two had already gotten in touch.” I shrug.
“I don’t care.” Max stops stroking my hair and looks into my eyes. “I want a divorce, Maria. I want to be with Max. I don’t care anymore.” Max looks away.
“Liz, this is all so sudden. Max hasn’t been home a week, and already you’re talking about divorcing your husband and marrying your old boyfriend whom you haven't seen in years? Liz, this isn’t like you, it’s crazy!”
“Put yourself in my place, Maria,” I snap at her, sitting up. “Imagine that Michael had left you, all by yourself with nothing but a necklace and a head full of memories of him. Imagine that you got married to someone else that reminded so much of Michael that on occasion you called him Michael. After several years of suffering from depression, you get better, except your new husband lays a bomb on you. Hey, guess what, honey? We’re moving back to our hometown! So you move back. You see your best friend, who married the only alien who didn’t go back with his family. They have a daughter, and are happy. And to top it all off, your stupid husband buys the house, in your case apartment, that Michael used to live in. Not a year after you move back to Roswell, Michael shows up. He’s back from Planet Hell. And he’s still in love with you. And your husband, the great husband who you thought to be so much like Michael, is the total opposite. You don’t care for him. He’s a total stranger. Tell me what you would do.”
I have her there. She doesn’t answer me for several moments.
“Well, for one thing, I would never, ever move into his old apartment, that’s for sure.” I can't help but laughing at her. There’s the Maria I know and love. “But you’re right.” Max’s much larger hand closes around mine and the phone.
“Can we talk about this later? Just tell David that you don’t know where I am. Bye, Maria.” I hang up the phone.
“We have to talk about this,” Max says lowly. I nod, stand up, and throw off the blankets. I grab my robe that’s lying on the chair and wrap it around myself. I’m suddenly cold.
“I know. You heard everything, Max. You know what I want.” I fumble around for a cigarette in the pocket of my jeans, so carelessly thrown on the floor, and light up. I blow smoke in the opposite direction of the bed. Of him. Of the one person I want to spend the rest of my life with. The only person. “I want you. Only you.”
“We won't be happy unless we’re making each other miserable.” I shake my head.
“That’s Michael and Maria, remember? We made each other too happy and dreamy. We live in a state of pure blissfulness. Nothing in the world matters to us. As long as we’re together, nothing else matters.” I smile sardonically at him. I am getting so good at shoving his own words down his throat.
“Which is why we shouldn’t be together.” He throws the covers off and put on his own robe. He walks away from me, to the kitchen. He’s angry. I’m not sure why, but he is. We continue our conversation through yelling.
“We have to be together, Max! I didn’t wait around for you for nothing!”
“You didn’t wait!” he yells back. I close my eyes. Will he ever understand?
“Yes I did! You just didn’t know! I waited for you for years! Even after I married David, I was still in love with you!”
“Listen to yourself, Liz! You have to listen.” His voice lowers, and I’m tired. I’m tired of this. I can't help but fall backwards onto the bed.
“I’m listening.”
“When I’m with you, nothing else matters.” I sit up slowly, taking a good look around. Am I really here, listening to him? “And I am still king. A lot matters to me, whether I want it to or not.” I pick up my glass of unfinished wine.
“But you love me,” I whisper against the glass edge. “And I love you.” He doesn’t hear me from the kitchen.
“I want you. I want you so bad that I can taste it. And having you here with me does nothing but increase this need. And it’s unhealthy.”
“And unhealthy addiction,” I mutter to myself. Michael’s words, spoken eleven years ago. “Maria has her cedar oil, Kyle has his weight lifting, and Michael has his argument skills, exercised profusely with Maria. What do I have? Smoking. And floating around in a pool of my own depression.” Max walks back into the room, two cups of coffee in his hands. Then he looks at me, with those eyes of his. And I forget the pain I have gone through, the depression I went through. All I see is the hole that I dug for myself and I jump right in to it.
“But I love you,” he says simply, handing me my coffee. One look at the cup and I knew where it came from. There was no such colors or textures on Earth. “And that’s it.”
I heard the door slam. Liz was home. Finally. It was about time. She walked in calmly, and began making coffee. She was careful to tread on the glass, knowing how it would annoy me.
“Where have you been?” I asked quietly, deciding not to show how angry I was. I didn’t understand, and I didn’t know where she had been. But when she turned around, a strange cup in her hand, I knew things had changed. I didn’t know how. But they had.
My hands are shaking. I'm trying not to, I really am. But she’s making me nervous. She isn’t pacing. She’s standing in front of me, holding the cup of coffee. A beautiful coffee cup, one that is out of this world. And it is out of this world. I know it. I can't keep my eyes off of it, and she knows it. Because she knows that I know where it came from. So she keeps it in her hands. Because she knows my hatred for the one that brought it to her could make the whole house explode.
“David, I didn’t want to hurt you, but I have, and I will continue to. And I can’t help it.” Blood turns to ice. Frozen water runs through my veins. My heart skips a beat. There is no reason for her to be saying this. But I know the truth.
“He’s back, isn’t he?” I asked lowly. I can only imagine what my voice sounds like, I can barely hear myself think with all the blood rushing in my head. He can't be back. He can't. He’s a king on another planet, far, far away. He cannot be back. She takes
“Yes.”
And with that one simple word, my life is thrown into chaos.
My life was nice and calm before. I loved Liz, she loved me. We were going to live happily ever after in our alien-crazed town where we both were raised. A reason we married each was because neither of us wanted kids. If it happened, well, we would welcome them, of course. But we had decided long ago not to try. But we were going to be happy. Liz was doing wonders with her website design classes she taught. My practice was flourishing. We would be happy. And in love.
But it takes me one look into her eyes. One good look, and I know it’s over. Whatever was there isn’t there anymore. She used to have this hard look, with a very hidden softness. She was very sweet and forceful with her words and actions, a very attractive combination. She was never really alive, but succumbed to everyone. But now. She was in control. Lately, she had been in control. Her eyes were alive and vibrant. Her movements were once controlled and jerky, they were now smooth and even. Because of him. Not me.
“You can't do this,” I said lowly. Liz ignored me. She's very good at that. “Liz, you can't do this to me.”
“You what I’m going to say, so I’ll spare you that.”
“You can't just leave me.”
“You can have anything, anything of mine that we’ve acquired during our marriage. All of my personal things, stuff I had before we got married is mine, and stays with me. I don’t want any money, no alimony, not even the house. All I want is you to let me go.”
“What if I can't?” I manage to say hoarsely. Liz turned around, leaned against the counter, and began stirring her coffee.
“If you don’t let me go, you will just keep waiting for me to come back. And I won't be coming back, David. I won't come back. This will hurt. You know it will. But you can let me go, and it will be easier on both of us.” Just let her go? I can't just let her go, I've loved her for years.
“I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you, I can't just let you go because you decide to leave me and go back to an ex-boyfriend, who left you ten years ago with another girl he slept with and got pregnant!” I can’t refrain from slamming my fists on the table, which makes her jump. “Dammit, Liz! Listen to yourself! You can't do this to me! We’re married, for God sakes! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
At this point, I can't stand still. I jump up and start pacing. What the hell does she think she’s doing? “Was I just a poor substitute for him? Just a stand in, a bad copy? Let me guess: the love you gave me was just a shadow of the love you felt for him? How can you still be in love with him after everything he’s done to you? To everyone he loves? I don’t understand how you can just do this to me! You doing the exact same thing to me that he did to you!”
I can see it in her eyes. The pain she feels. She was once strong and had all the answers. But now faced with me . . . she just falls apart. She thinks that I don’t know her, but I do. I understand her pain and depression. But now she’s just going to leave me, leave me by myself to deal with my pain? How can she do that when she knows what it’s like? Giving up my ranting, I collapse helplessly back in my chair.
Slowly, she builds up the barrier separating her thoughts and emotions, gently sets her coffee cup down, and sits beside me. “David, I understand what you mean. But you have to understand me too. I love you, I wouldn’t have married you if I hadn't. But Max is my soul mate, I have always felt that about him. You were so wonderful to me and not just anyone could have put up with me. I don’t want to put you through what I went through. But you’re stronger than I am. Much. You can handle it. You helped me immensely over the years to live with myself. I know you have a low opinion of Max because of the way he left me, but think of this: he left me because of his duties and he was being tricked, not because he wanted to.” And it was here her voice started to struggle and die.
“I want to leave here because I could never be happy with you here, knowing Max is only a stones throw away. Imagine Max, right now. What he is thinking about. He was on Antar, being tortured, fighting, being lied to at every corner, trying to save himself, his sister, the woman who lied to him about practically everything, and the boy he had always thought to be his son. All the while knowing I was at home, waiting for me, and also knowing that he would probably never see me again. And loving me all the while. And when he found out that Tess had mindwarped him about sleeping with each other, and her becoming pregnant with someone else’s son, someone whom he had known on Earth, a friend, who was tricked into playing her sick and twisted game, he lost all sense of direction.
“For eight years, he had lived with two goals: to keep Isabel, Tess, Zan, and himself alive, and to get home to me. But when he found out the truth, he didn’t know what was truth and what was lies anymore. Tess abandoned them all, including her son, and left for what she believed to be a safe zone, where she could practice and hone her skills. There, she was killed on the spot for the betrayal of the King and Princess. Max couldn’t feel responsible. The boy who was thought to be his son was eight years old. Old enough to understand what his mother did. They think he had known all his life that Max wasn’t his father, but had been forced by his mother not to reveal their secret. When Max found the way to get home, he brought the boy with him to his real father.”
At this point, Liz could only find herself on auto play. It was like she was reciting something she had rehearsed or seen, nothing of her own say.
“Max’s son is really Kyle Valenti’s son. The football coach at the high school? It’s his son. Zan has heard about Kyle his whole life from not only Tess, but Max and Isabel. And he knows that it’s his real father, and he’s adjusting and happy. Kyle’s a little shocked to find out that he’s a father of an eight year old, but he’s adjusting and happy. I want to adjust and be happy, David! And I can’t!”
With the final frustration of my inability to speak, Liz finally loses her temper completely. “God damnit, David! I’m not trying to hurt you! This is what I want, this is what I’ve always wanted, my chance to be happy and have a life with Max! He is my soul mate, and I have always told you that! I told you over and over in the beginning when we first started to date that if Max ever came back, I would leave you for him! You seemed to accept that perfectly fine for years because you never expected him to come back! And when he does, you can’t accept that! You’ve had seven years to ponder over that! And I’m sorry for the way this is happening, I guess it can’t happen any nice or easy accepting way! But I won’t stay unhappy!” With those last words, Liz stood up and swept her hands through her hair, her fists clenching and unclenching. All the rage she had pent up over the years was exploding, and I was the unfortunate victim. But something clicked in my head, and while she paced and cursed, I just looked at her.
“You must really love him,” I barely whisper. She hears me, though, and glances over at me, suspicious of my words. “You must really love him. In the seven years that I have known you, you have never lost your temper. You have never been this passionate about anything.” I lost. I realize that. And I have learned that when you lose, you take it gracefully. Well, this was as graceful as it was gonna get. Slowly I stood up, and took one good, hard look at her, this woman that I have shared everything with for years. A small, brown headed, brown eyed woman who looked like a girl, with a spirit and a temper that had been hibernating for years, waiting for someone to light her fire. Something I couldn’t do. With her secrets and lies and hidden past, her confusion about reality and dreams, and all her naivety despite her experience with the FBI, police, alien hunters and every day enemies, she is nothing more than a hormonal, teenage girl. This girl is trapped in a seventeen year old’s mind. And I feel sorry for her.
But I don’t dare say anything. So I smile- if you want to call it that, maybe more of a grimace- and make my way to the door. “I’ll get everything arranged, but you’ll probably won’t see me much. Goodbye, Liz.” And I walk to the door, open it, and leave.
After the divorce was finalized, I wouldn’t see her for another five years.
The divorce went quickly, I made sure of it. I had a feeling she would want to marry Max as soon as possible. Liz got the house and everything of hers. I got everything else. Anything that we had collected together I got, and I quickly sold it and sent her the money. It would always be returned. The look on her face when I had decided to give her the house was indescribable. She waited for me in the hallway after the final day. Everything was finished, and she was free. I was free. But she still had one more thing to say.
August 2012
I saw her leaning against the door frame, obviously waiting for someone. I had no idea it was me.
“It was the house,” she whispered, not meeting my eyes.
“What about the house? It’s yours, I gave it to you because you loved it so much, more than I did.” Liz shook her head.
“That’s not what I mean.” Oh. Well, by that remark, I knew exactly what she meant. She finally stopped avoiding my eyes and looked straight at me. Wow. Her eyes were strangely beautiful that moment, glowing with stars in them. And then they faded, back to her normally gorgeous eyes. But the overwhelming pain and joy collided there, and it almost hurt to look at them for too long. “It was his house,” she said softly. “He grew up in that house. Him, his parents, and Isabel. That’s why I hated and loved the house so much. And that’s why this all happened. He came looking for his parents to his old house, and I was there instead.” Shit. I brought all of this on myself. Great job, Dave. Good one. She continued to gaze at me, appraising me. “I would have happened anyway. I just wanted to tell you . . . I don’t know. But it was the house.”
Present, December 1, 2017
And after that, I never saw her. I packed my ass up and got the first plane back to the East Coast. New York City. I never forgot about her, but she faded slowly. But every day I wondered about her. Until I met my wife of a year, Carolyn. Now I have Liz-thoughts every so often, when I see something that reminds me of her.
I’m away on business, otherwise I would have never come to Albuquerque. It was too close to Roswell. Carolyn stayed at home in the city. And I’m sitting here, reading the newspaper. And in the wedding announcements, there is a name that catches my name. So of course, I read the article where Mr. and Mrs. Phillip Evans were announcing the marriage of Mr. Kyle Valenti and Ms. Isabel Evans. The best man was Michael Guerin, and the matron of honor was Elizabeth Evans. The groomsman was Maxwell Evans, and the bridesmaid was Maria Deluca-Guerin. The flower girl was Alexandria Guerin. The bride was given away by her father Phillip Evans. The bride is a member of the famous Antarian race, and is the adopted daughter of Phillip and Diane Evans. The groom is the son of Sheriff James Valenti, Jr., and has a son, Zan Harding Valenti. The couple will spend their honeymoon on Antar and will reside in Roswell, New Mexico on their return.
The article is complete with a picture of the happy couple, both looking only slightly older than when I had seen them last, which was one on of the court days Liz and I had five years ago. And that is how I ended up here. In Roswell, the place I promised myself I would never return to. And I’m here, sitting in the damn park, just watching the day go by, just waiting. Watching the mothers get together their play groups and gather their children like gathering sheep. Watching and hoping for that one glimpse.
And I get it.
A Jeep Cherokee pulls up and parks. Nearly at the same time, a loud motorcycle pulls up beside it. A small seat is in the backseat. The man riding the motorcycle climbs off and takes off his leather jacket and helmet, and then turns his attentions to the person on the back of the motorcycle. A tall, dark headed man gets out of the Cherokee, already scolding the other man, who ignores him completely. As it turns out, there is a little boy on the back of the motorcycle, one with a wide and generous smile. He gleefully claps his hands and squeals at getting his father in trouble. He is soon lifted out of the motorcycle, where he had been heavily padded and cushioned and safety belted in there. The dark headed man goes around to the other side of his Cherokee, and opens the back door. Soon a small, dark headed boy comes tumbling out of the car, and the man reappears with a small baby in his arms. The motorcycle man goes over to him, and soon has a armful of blankets and baby stuff. The two appear to be great friends, arguing only like guys can with complete friendship, yelling cheerfully at the boys to hold on and wait for them.
The two settle on large patch of grass, spreading out the blanket and settling back, watching the two boys run around and play an easy form of soccer, often calling out small hints. It’s not far from my hiding place, where I just wait patiently.
But as I watch the dark headed man play with the baby in his arms, my heart begins to ache. The little girl is precious, anyone can see that. She already has a head full of light brown hair, and a smile that is beautiful. She looks perfect. The way he looks at his daughter, and the way his son looks over at him, like he’s proud that his dad is there spending time with her, it’s something I have never wanted until now.
I hear the shouts before I see the person. And throw the trees, comes a loud blond woman, her blond look-alike daughter clinging to her hand, desperate to keep up with her mother who was definitely on the war path. The woman begins yelling at the motorcycle man about keeping his kids safe and what the hell was he thinking when he drove the bike with his son on it when they had a brand new Jetta and truck that was perfectly useful, the lazy asshole he was! The man just sits there, hugs his daughter before gently pushing her to the boys soccer game before quietly arguing with his wife, who is irate with him. And he says something which makes her laugh hysterically, and he smiles, she smiles, they’re in love again, and everything’s all right in the world.
Before I know it, she’s there. Appeared out of no where. Leaning over the dark headed man, who is suddenly all smiles. The blond scoops the baby out of the arms of the dark headed man, and he leans back to kiss her gently, and his hand snakes up behind her neck to caress it softly. Her hair is beautiful in the sun, and just shines. Her face is somewhat tired but happy. Youthful looking but with a few worry lines that weren’t there five years ago. But beautiful all the same.
Her eyes light at up when she sees her son playing soccer, trying his hardest to keep the ball away from his older, female opponent. She takes a moment to sit next to her husband, and looks around. For one fleeting moment I think she sees me but her gaze quickly moves on. Her husband says something and she laughs. She takes her baby back from the blonde, and cuddles her closely. The dark headed man pulls her close, and she leans back into him. It is a perfect Kodak moment.
And it’s my cue to leave. I came. I saw. And I did not conquer anything.
I was running late, they were all going to be gone before I got there, I just knew it. My meeting with the Council had taken longer than assumed, so I knew that everyone would be there before me. And it was so rarely that we got to spend time together as a whole family, all of us, that I had to hurry. Isabel and Kyle were still away on their honeymoon, and Zan was with his grandfather. But Max was with the baby and Parker as was Maria and Michael with Alexandria and Ashton. And that was my place.
The Chevelle worked beautifully as I drove it across town. I think that was when I first felt it. That familiar feeling of someone that didn’t quite belong in Roswell, and never had. It was a feeling that I had with David, so I knew he was here in Roswell, somewhere.
I park hurriedly, and ran across the park to where I just knew they would be waiting. Max was facing away from me. I had heard Maria yelling at Michael from halfway across the park, and Max was entertained by them. Seeing my chance to startle him, I sneak up behind him and wrap my arms around his neck. Jumping slightly, he turns his head, and smiles up at me. Maria scoops the baby out of his arms so he can have me all to himself. He hasn’t seen me all day, after all. I can feel his hand sliding up my neck, where he rubbed it gently. Massaging the tension out of me. He leans his head back just slightly, enough for our lips to touch. Kissing him is heaven for me. Knowing everything we share cannot be reproduced, it is individual within ourselves.
Parker is only three years old. A live wire like his Aunt Maria, and with Max’s marvelous looks, he is a heartbreaker already. Alexandria told me the other day that Parker has broken two hearts already in their play group. He’s a sweet boy, his only flaw being impressively stubborn, a trait I believe he inherited from not only Max, but also me, and Michael and Maria. And my baby, only five months old, is April, a beautiful baby who adores her Uncle Michael to no ends. He spends hours entertaining her and Ashton with his powers. Uncle Michael is well loved.
And so is Max. He has made me so happy since he’s been back. It’s so different. I look at Alexandria, and I can’t help but feeling a twinge; if he hadn’t left, we could have a child that age. But now we have April and Parker. I love them so much, and wouldn’t want any other children. Unless there were more children. I can’t help but smiling at the thought. Max would have a cow if he knew I hadn’t told him yet.
I settle into Max’s arms and close my eyes momentarily. That feeling is strong again, and when I open my eyes, they settle on a clump of trees across the park. There’s someone sitting on a bench, just sitting amidst all the families out for the day. Alone. And I know it’s David. A little over a year ago I was with Isabel and Michael in New York City for the International Summit Meeting and happened to pick up a newspaper. There had been a wedding announcement with a picture of David and a woman named Carolyn. He looked happy. I hope he is.
The only thing that breaks me out of my reverie is Max telling Maria about Michael’s recent escapades with Ashton and April. He’s so wonderful and I can’t help laughing at his perfect renditions of Michael’s defense.
“Maria, hand me my baby,” I order her, reaching out for my precious baby. Raising her eyebrows, she nods to Max.
“I believe you already have him,” she says seriously while at the same time letting me take away April.
“Hey, you know what, you’re right. I do already have him.” He just gives me that half smile before glancing down at April. She’s so tiny still, a characteristic that Michael says that she gets from me. He’s certain that she’ll be a shrimp, like me. I didn’t like that very much, but Max just laughs and says that it will be all right.
