The Lost Story of Eva Fuentes - 18

Boston

1900

“He keeps staring at you,” Dolores whispered in Eva’s ear as they took a turn around the gymnasium together. Tonight was one of their last dances, and with the closing days of July, Eva’s time in Boston began winding down. They were due to return to Havana in August, but before they set sail for Cuba, the summer school organizers had arranged for them to travel to New York, Philadelphia, and Washington D.C. for further diplomatic endeavors, including reportedly meeting with the American president McKinley.

Eva snuck a peek at James before she ducked her head.

He was indeed staring at her.

“Have you discussed what you will do…after…”

After the teachers boarded the ships that would take them back to Havana.

“We haven’t talked about it.”

Dolores cast a sidelong glance her way. “You could write letters maybe. Perhaps visit each other.”

“Perhaps,” Eva replied, looking back at James.

He was still staring at her.

“Do you love him?”

Dolores said the words so quietly that Eva had to strain to hear them over the sounds of the music and the crowd, but she might as well have screamed them for as loudly as they echoed in Eva’s mind.

The truth was, she hadn’t worked that part out yet.

“Do you think he loves you?” Dolores asked her.

She could hear the question in Dolores’s voice, the subtle hint there. She’d told Dolores about their fight in the library, and she could tell by the concerned glances her friend threw her way that she wasn’t entirely convinced that James would do as he promised. Dolores seemed to be reserving judgment on the entire matter until she received proof of something, but what that was, Eva didn’t know.

“I don’t know,” Eva replied.

James had stayed true to his word, all mention of writing an article about her time at Harvard swiftly forgotten. She remembered his promise to her, his vow that he wouldn’t do anything to betray her trust again. When he had looked at her in that moment, when he had delivered those words to her, it had felt a lot like love.

If it was—how was she going to walk away from him in just a few days’ time?

James abruptly pushed off the table he’d been leaning against on the edge of the gymnasium and began walking toward her and Dolores.

Eva’s heart pounded with each step he took. Was he going to ask her to dance? Would she say yes? They were still careful to keep their interest in each other hidden—not just for her own reputation, but also now that she understood the added complication that he was a journalist.

He brushed past her, so quickly that she almost would have sworn she imagined it, but for the fact of a rolled scrap of paper he placed in her hand.

Later, in the comfort and privacy of the room she shared with Dolores, she lay back against her pillow and unfurled the paper, reading the words he had scrawled there.

Meet Me at Harvard Yard 7 a.m.

“Come on, I want to take you to Buzzards Bay. I want to show you where I spent my summers when I was a kid. You would love it,” he said when she met him in the Yard the following morning.

The closer she came to leaving Boston, the more James tried to convince her to skip the planned summer school activities to spend time together.

James walked beside her as she made her way through the campus, heading toward her class.

“I can’t. I have a Geography lecture this morning. Attendance is starting to drop off in some of the classes. It would be noticeable if I wasn’t there.”

“You can say you’re not feeling well. They’ll understand.” He stopped on the path. “You’re leaving soon. We’ve barely been able to see each other and you’re getting ready to return to Cuba. Besides, it’s a gorgeous day out. You don’t want to spend it in a classroom learning about geography.”

Eva hesitated. He was not wrong. The summer school was so precisely scheduled that the pace was starting to get to her, and she didn’t think she was the only one, considering how many of her colleagues had started missing classes as well. And even though she knew their relationship was racing toward its natural conclusion, she wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye.

They had two days left.

James reached out and took her hand, lacing their fingers together. “Please. I want to share this with you. We could leave now and come back tonight.”

As a teacher, the very idea of missing class was against everything she stood for, and Eva suddenly felt like she had changed places with one of her students, her focus on outings and romance, abandoning her studies for pleasure.

How many times had she heard them talking about their plans and felt a twinge of envy, a desire to eschew responsibility for a moment?

James released her quickly, moving out of the way to let someone pass by them on the path.

He glanced around, and then he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against him.

“Please, Eva.”

His lips drifted to her neck, and he pressed a quick kiss there before releasing her.

“You promise we’ll be back tonight?” she asked, knowing she’d already made her decision before the question escaped. “I can’t miss two days of classes in a row.”

He laughed. “I promise.”

They drove to Buzzards Bay in a car James had borrowed from another one of his cousins. Eva wasn’t sure she would ever quite get used to the novelty of riding in an automobile, and she wasn’t the only one who was a bit awed. They were still enough of a rarity that the vehicle caught its fair share of looks from pedestrians.

He’d never said as much to her, but Eva got the impression that James’s cousins had grown up quite wealthy, and he seemed embarrassed that he hadn’t grown up with the same advantages as the rest of his family.

The house in Buzzards Bay was as lovely as James had described, and it wasn’t hard to see why he had such fond memories of his summers there.

He parked the car in the front driveway and climbed out of the driver’s seat to open the door for Eva. He reached around her to shut the door, but he didn’t let go of her when it closed. Instead he stood there, his arms encircling Eva’s waist, the wind blowing around them, and held her as though he never wanted to let her go.

Tears rose up as she realized why he’d wanted to bring her here so badly, why he’d wanted to share this part of himself with her.

This was their goodbye.

There were no prying eyes out here away from the hustle and bustle of Harvard and the novelty of the summer school, and she leaned into his embrace, grateful that she’d agreed to come here with him, that she’d taken a chance despite her reservations.

James kissed her, and then he released her.

He pointed up to the second floor of the house. “That was my bedroom when I would stay here.”

Eva stared up at the pale gray structure, the front facade filled with glittering windows that offered the perfect view of the water.

“It’s beautiful. All of it. I can see why you loved coming here so much.”

He laced their fingers, tugging her along as he led her into the beach cottage.

It felt a little strange walking into someone else’s home while they were gone. The furniture was draped in white sheets that fluttered in the breeze let in by the open door.

“They’re readying the house for sale,” James explained. “Now that my cousins are older and have moved away for work, my aunt and uncle have decided to sell the place.”

A hint of salt filled the air, the scent of the ocean calling to her.

They drifted through the house together, hands clasped, as James pointed out the different rooms to her, making her laugh with stories of the adventures he and his cousins had.

“I envy you the big family,” she said. “I always wished mine was larger, that there were more people around.”

“Were you lonely as a child?”

She nodded, a little embarrassed to admit that she was lonely as an adult now, too.

“You’re not alone anymore,” he replied, squeezing her hand, and her heart lurched at the implication contained there.

Did he feel the same way she did? Did this mean as much to him as it did to her?

Sometimes she thought she knew, but other times she wasn’t so sure.

Eva pulled away from him and walked over to one of the front windows. She looked outside at the crashing waves.

“We could go for a swim,” James suggested from his place behind her. “It’s cold, but—”

“I’d like that.”

It was freezing compared to what she was used to.

A shriek escaped Eva’s lips, then another, whatever modesty had flooded her earlier now disappearing as she dashed through the water, heading toward the comfort of the shore. She’d changed into a bathing costume she’d borrowed from Dolores, more than a little self-conscious at how much skin it had exposed and the heat in James’s eyes when he’d seen her in it.

Water splashed her thighs, her stomach, as she headed toward the shore, James at her back, pursuing her. He caught her at the waist, tugging her toward him, lifting her up and spinning her around. The twirling made her dizzy, the sensation of momentarily flying filling her with exhilaration.

He set her down.

“I’d like to visit you when you return to Havana,” James mused, rubbing strands of her hair between his fingers, tugging her toward him.

“Would you?”

They’d never discussed what would happen after she went back to Cuba. In her more hopeful moments, she considered the possibility that perhaps they could write to each other, could keep in touch through whatever means they could carve out, but never had she imagined that he would want to come all the way to see her.

“I would. Very much. I don’t know how I’m going to let you go. I’ve never felt this way before, Eva. Ever.”

Hope filled her. “I’ve never felt this way before, either.”

I love you.

It was on the tip of her tongue to say it, but she was scared to be the first one to offer up the words, to make this thing between them even more serious. But if he was thinking of a future together, if he was considering how they could be together again…

James stared solemnly into her eyes. “Do you love me?”

She could feel her cheeks burning, wanted to look away because she knew there was no way she could hide it from him. He had to have known how she felt. She lacked the sophistication, the guile to pretend otherwise.

“Do you love me, Eva?” he repeated when she didn’t respond.

God help her, she did.

She couldn’t say it.

She nodded instead.

“I’m not going to let you go,” he whispered. “Not yet. We’ll find a way. I promise. Trust me.”

She was in too deep now, despite all her caution, had given far too much of her heart.

“I love you,” James whispered in her ear.

She believed him.