Gil

Evie and I walk through the darkness in silence for a long time. I’m not sure what I can say to make her feel better. Part of me feels responsible for the scolding she endured earlier.

I wasn’t raised like she was; I don’t know enough about these social situations to say whether or not our dance was disgraceful. All of Alex’s guests seemed to like it, and Alex too seemed to be enjoying himself, so I thought it was alright. Besides, it was fun… But I don’t know if saying all this will only upset her more, so I keep these thoughts to myself.

It’s a cold night. Evie rubs her arms, her teeth chattering faintly as we walk. Recalling the package in my hand and why I grabbed it in the first place, I rip it open to lay my coat over her shoulders.

“But it’s yours,” she protests softly.

“So accept it when I loan it to you.”

She says nothing, only grips the too long sleeves in her palms and lifts the collar to cover the lower half of her face. She looks so small and cute inside of it, it’s all I can do not to put my arm around her.

“It’s too big for you,” I comment, hoping she hasn’t guessed my thoughts. “Do you feel awkward wearing it?”

 “How could I? It’s so familiar now…”

“Why is it familiar?” I ask, and Evie halts suddenly.

“Ah, that’s because—”

“Don’t tell me you’ve been wearing it at home.”

I was only teasing her, but her lack of response and frantic blinking as she tries to think up some kind of excuse tells me I’ve hit the nail on the head.

“Wait, you were seriously wearing it?”

Her mouth falls open to refute me, but still she can think of no excuse. Her funny face looks so awkward and embarrassed, it’s all I can do not to burst out laughing.

Sensing this, her embarrassment trades for indignation. “It’s cold at night!” she says, hitting me in the arm when my laughter finally breaks. She’s just so funny, I can’t help myself. “My blankets aren’t very good, so I’ve been sleeping with this for extra warmth.”

My laughter dies away as I picture her curled up in bed wearing my coat, and a tickle starts in the back of my throat. “You sleep with it, really? That old thing?”

“Yeah,” she admits shyly, and my heart begins to race.

“It must smell bad. I couldn’t tell you the last time I washed it.”

“No, I… find the smell very comforting.”

She’s so straightforward; she doesn’t say it to get a reaction out of me. She simply says what she thinks, and gives very little thought to what those words might do to a man on a night like this.

In this as in everything else, you capture my imagination so completely. Evie.

The walk back to her father’s house is over far too soon. I think both of our steps begin to lag as we clear the gate and make our way quietly to the front door.

She stops on the steps and starts to take off the coat.

“Keep it,” I hear myself say. She looks to me questioningly. “Wouldn’t want you to get cold at night, Funny Face.”

The look she gives me is so poignant—why do I feel like she’s about to cry? I swallow and it hurts a bit.

“Thank you, Gil. You were the first person to show me kindness. I won’t ever forget you.”

I laugh. “A bit dramatic for a goodnight, isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” she smiles a bit sadly. “Goodnight, Gil.” 

“Goodnight.”

All the walk home I think of her, picture her falling asleep inside the warmth of my old coat. I take the long way home, no longer interested in Alex’s party, not wanting to talk to anyone or think of anything else but that sweet picture she painted for me.

It’s cool beneath the pines behind Livingston’s estate. The moonlight filters through the trees and paints the forest floor with bright splotches. Nearby an owl hoots, and I hear the rustle of some animal in the underbrush as I stop just before a small gorge to look out over the night vista.

Even now, with so much rugged beauty before me, she is all I see.

Time passes and I weary of standing, finding instead a seat amongst the roots of a great sprawling maple tree. The moon rises higher in the sky till it’s nearly overhead. I don’t know how many hours pass while I sit like this, listening to the night sounds, lost in my thoughts of her. I feel increasingly restless. Eventually I rise, and with nowhere else to go, I start back for Alex’s country home.

When I arrive all of the guests have cleared out. Alex and Jeremy are sitting back wearily in chairs, their fancy clothes all undone as they sip on the last of the evening’s punch.

“There he is,” Alex hails me when I walk in, sounding a few drinks gone. “The hero of the hour! I owe the evening’s success to your wonderful dancing, my friend. How can I ever repay you?”

I chuckle and pour myself a bit of liquor before I find my seat. “I didn’t realize my dancing would leave such an impression on everyone.”

“You were the highlight of the evening, Uncle Gil,” Jeremy says, enthusiastic in spite of his obvious weariness. “The party was dreadfully dull after you snuck out. I say, where did you go, anyway?”

“I saw Miss Stuart home.”

“Gone an awful long time for just a little walk, weren’t you?” Jeremy pesters me with a leer in his eye.

“You have an awfully dirty mind for such a well-bred gentleman, Young Master Livingston.”

“Now, let’s not be shy about it. We’re all men here,” Jeremy answers cockily, doing his best to add a few years to his age by straightening his shoulders and sitting up just a little higher in his chair. “I’ll bet you’ve had dozens of beautiful women, Uncle Gil.”

“I get that a lot,” I chuckle. Is it my face, I wonder? Do I really seem like the rakish type?

“But it’s true, isn’t it?”

“Not at all,” Alex murmurs into his drink. “Old Gilbert’s pure as the driven snow. A bona fide thirty-year-old virgin,” he says, and Jeremy looks positively horrified. “Why, back when we were in the army, he wouldn’t so much as look at a woman, and we were together so often they started spreading rumors about us being lovers. Gil used to hate that,” he recalls, and bursts out laughing at the memory.

“S-still,” Jeremy looks to me with fast fading hope in his eyes, “you aren’t actually a-a… are you?”

“Disappointed?” I chuckle, not really bothered to learn I’ve just fallen quite a bit in this lad’s estimation.

“Gil’s not a sociable fellow; too shrewd, too suspicious. On the front lines that mentality kept him alive, but it carries over to everyday life as well. He’s yet to learn the joys of being vulnerable with another human being, present company excluded,” Alex explains with the slurred words of a drunken philosopher. “Says it’s dangerous, letting anyone get too close. Intimacy scares him,” he adds in a whisper behind his hand, imagining I won’t be able to hear him.

“But you were close with that woman tonight. Everyone saw you dancing with her.”

“That one?” I smile to myself as I swirl the last little bit of liquor in the bottom of my glass. “She’s special.”

“Special how?”

“Hm. Maybe it’s because she still seems not quite real to me. More like a changeling. A fairy.”

“She seemed real enough to me,” Jeremy comments. “And pretty too. I wanted to take my shot with her, but you two ran off before I got the chance,” he sulks.

“I thought you were flirting with Mr. Miller’s granddaughter all night,” Alex says. “I caught you two trying to sneak upstairs together.”

“Well,” Jeremy shrugs, “she was pretty, too.”

“That’s all you think about, isn’t it?” Alex grumbles.

“What else?” Jeremy makes a knowing face at me, then recalling my untouched state, recoils slightly.

I chuckle. “I see we’ll have to keep an eye on you if we’re going to preserve your innocence.”

“Ha. Don’t do me any favors.”

“Ah, youth,” Alex murmurs, his chin falling on his breast as he begins to nod off.

“Come on, Jeremy. Help me get your brother to bed.”