History Lesson

"Ieuan? Ieuan Davies, is that you??"

I turned to see a ruddy-faced man with a huge grin on his face. It took me barely a moment to recognize him.

"Hello, Dylan. How've you been?"

"How've you been? How've you been?? Twenty years gone, and that's all you can think to say?" He laughed uproariously and grabbed me in a huge bear hug.

Dylan Gittings had been my best friend from the time we were in short pants, right up until my parents and I left for America. We'd corresponded for a while, but as is the way of things, life intervened and we had gradually drifted apart. He to the Royal Navy, and I of course, to America.

"Gahh, let go of me, you big oaf!" I couldn't help but laugh. Dylan had always been larger than life, even as a boy, and apparently, he hadn't changed. Except to get bigger. Much, much bigger.

"Come on mate, join us!" He dragged me over to a table and introduced me to everyone. I smiled and shook hands, some familiar and some not. Until I came to the last of the group. There was no mistaking her, even after all this time.

"Briallen!" I hardly dared breathe.

"Hello, Ieuan," she whispered back.

The moment passed, and there was handshaking and fist bumping and hugs all round, and we commenced catching up on our lives over the past 20 years. It was fairly terrific. I'd had probably one more ale than my usual, and was pleasantly tipsy when the conversation finally lulled.

Briallen took the opportunity to announce, "Well, I'm going to pop out for a breath of air," and stood up. Tucking a strand of raven hair behind one ear, she took a few steps toward the door, then stopped and turned. "You look like you could use a break yourself, Ieuan. Coming?" She said it with a cheeky little grin that had me out of my seat and grabbing for my coat. I heard Dylan chuckling as we headed toward the exit.

I held the door for her, and she tucked her arm in mine as we headed across the street to a little park. We sat together on a small bench, lost in our thoughts for a few moments.

"Ieuan... I just wanted to say how sorry I was to hear about your wife."

"Thank you. Beca told you?"

"Yes, we run into each other occasionally; we talk about you sometimes. After you left... she made an effort to come see me; to make sure I was all right. She became something of a big sister to me too."

She had never told me.

Then she asked, rather timidly, "I know we were just kids, Ieuan, but... after you left... did you ever think of me?"

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When I had to leave Wales, Bri and I were just entering those awkward early teen years. That time at the tail end of puberty when we weren't kids anymore, but nowhere near adulthood. Old enough to notice the differences between boys and girls, but no idea what to do about it.

Bri and I had been friends forever, but the summer before I left, we had started spending even more time together. She enjoyed walking with me, and as we explored the countryside, we would find excuses to bump into one another, smiling secretly, and stealing glances. Certain that we wanted to be closer, but not knowing how. In a rare moment of bravery one day, I clumsily reached for her hand as we walked, and the smile she gave me... well. If you've ever been smiled at like that, you know. Soon after, we were each other's first kiss. It was awkward and amazing. Young love.

But of course, the cruel fates of academia crushed our dreams. When my dad broke the news that he was changing jobs and we'd be leaving soon, I was heartbroken. Then horrified to learn how far apart we would be. I begged my parents to let me stay with Beca, who was still attending university.

After a lot of arguing, it was Beca herself who finally sat me down. "Ieuan, you're my favorite brother and I love you."

"Only brother," I mumbled.

She ignored me. "It's killing me too that you have to leave. I wish I could keep you here with me, and if only I was through with school and a bit more established, that might have been possible. I just... well, I'm trying to figure out my life too, you know?" Her lip trembled. "Please don't hate me Ieuan! I couldn't bear it. Please try to understand. I have to focus on me right now."

We talked for a long time, and I grew up more than a little during that conversation. I told Beca I was sorry for being selfish, and we both cried a little, and I think we fell asleep snuggled up on the couch.

But of course, eventually I had to say goodbye to Bri. God, it was awful. We swore we'd never forget each other, that we'd figure out a way. We dreamt up impossible plans for visiting and clung to each other until my father eventually had to come and drag me away from her.

It wasn't long after that we were in America.

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As those memories came rushing back to me, Briallen leaned her head back to stare up at the night sky.

"So beautiful..." she sighed, and turned her face toward mine.

Well, there was an opening, if ever there was one. I thought about it for a moment, thought about it hard, then closing my eyes and sighing inwardly, I took the honorable path. I put my head close to hers and pointed. "You're right, it is a spectacular night, seren. See there? That's Hallux Major. And over there is..."

She started laughing and slapped my arm. "You idiot!" she giggled. There's no constellation called The Big Toe!

"No, no, I swear! Look just there; you can see Dormiens Porcus," I continued, trying to keep a straight face.

She burst out with more laughter. "Sleeping Pig? You want me to believe..." and she was off again, leaning back against the bench, holding her stomach, and chortling with glee. I smiled at her, waiting for her to catch her breath.

Finally, she settled down and turned to look at me. Her expression was ... a little sad, a little wistful. "Why didn't you kiss me, Ieuan? You know I want you to," she asked quietly. I felt like my heart was breaking all over again, as it had those 20 years ago.

Trying to hide the sorrow I felt, I took her hands in mine. "Bri, seeing you tonight has brought back all those feelings from our last summer together. You are still every bit as beautiful as I remember, and believe me, I would really like to kiss you. If you were just some girl, I probably would have. Men are pigs, as you know."

"Sleeping pigs," she said softly and elbowed me. I smiled.

"But it's you. And you know I'm just here for the holiday, then it's back to America. I've built a life there, as dysfunctional as it is. And I'm not the sort of fellow who could kiss you once... or twice...," her lip quirked as I continued, "and then just leave again. You deserve better."

"Oh Ieuan, you are one of the good ones," she sighed. "I think... well, it's the holiday, and I'm a little bit drunk, and since the divorce, well, I guess I'm just feeling a bit sorry for myself and wanted... well, maybe needed some proof that I'm not as old and hopeless as I feel," she started to sniffle a little bit.

"I'll always be your friend, Bri," I said as sincerely as I could, looking into her eyes. "Trust me, you're the farthest thing from old and hopeless. If I was coming back to Wales to stay, I'd already be beating down your door."

We stood and hugged for the longest time. Then she slipped her hand into mine and we slowly made our way back to the pub. She let go before we went back inside, stopped, and said, "Thank you for that, Ieuan. I didn't think I'd ever be happy that someone turned me down, but..."

"It wasn't easy, trust me." I chuckled.

She smiled. "Well, in a mad way, I appreciate it. You're right; if we had... gone further... and then you left, I think it would have been worse."

"Bri, you could never be just a fling. I know we haven't spoken in forever, but I do remember the girl you were." I touched the tip of her nose with a finger. "And she's still in there."

A tear rolled down her cheek. "Damn it, you've made me cry again!"

I gently wiped it away with a thumb. "All I'm good for, these days," I said ruefully.

She gave me a sad smile. I opened the door, and we walked back in to rejoin the world.

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Beca and I talked about it over tea the next morning. Linnet was off at a friend's, and Arthur was working. So, it was just the two of us, and I sent out the initial volley.

"I had an interesting evening at the pub." I tried to sound noncommittal, but I could never fool my sister.

"Oh, did you?"

"Ran into Dylan and some of his mates."

"Oh? I bump into him from time to time. How is he?"

"Still Dylan," as if that explained everything - which it did.

Beca nodded and waited. She knew me too well.

"Umm. Briallen Collins was there."

"Ahh. I thought she might have been."

I looked at her. "How on earth... never mind. She's divorced."

"Yes, I do seem to recall hearing that."

Yes, she would have, wouldn't she? I got up and went around to where she was sitting, and hugged her tightly. "Thank you for what you did, by the way."

"What I did?" She was momentarily confused. But only for a moment. "Ah. She told you, then?"

Releasing her, I nodded. "She looks up to you a great deal, you know. Why didn't you ever mention it?"

She sighed. "I debated. But in the end, I thought it would be best if I didn't. A clean break for you."

I slowly eased back into my chair and took a sip of my tea. "Aye, you're probably right. As usual," I quirked a smile at her. She reached across the table and patted my hand. "What are big sisters for?"

I had to clear a bit of dust from one eye before I could continue. "She also let me know quite clearly that she would not be averse to finding out if there were still feelings between us."

"Oh Ieuan..."

"What 'Oh Ieuan'?" I was a little exasperated with Beca's far-too-intimate knowledge of my psyche. Sometimes she knew even before I did.

She just smiled knowingly. "You forget, I know the sort of man you are. And I know you'd never start something, especially with her, if it could never go anywhere."

"Exactly what I said to her. But still, sometimes I wish... ahh, feck."

"Now, if it was Wendy MacDowell throwing her kitty at you, then that would be something completely different," she added with a smirk.

I nearly spat my mouthful of tea across the kitchen. "Throwing her... Beca!" I doubled over with laughter. She grinned at me.

My chuckles tapered off, and I became introspective. "She was my first love, you know."

Beca came over, put her hand softly on the back of my neck, and rested her forehead against mine. "I know, Ieuan, I know."

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Mam and Dad flew in the next day, and we had a good Christmas, the six of us. It was wonderful to have my family together.

On Boxing Day, I met Briallen for lunch, and we chatted about old times, and the highlights of our lives since I'd moved away. It was bittersweet. I told her if she was ever in the States to please look me up. And she said we'd get together next time I came back to Wales.

I gave her a long hug and whispered that I wished things could be different, and she said she did too. I think we both got a little misty-eyed, and we shared one... just one... soft kiss before we parted.

I went back to Beca's and spent some time with Linnet. Her boundless curiosity and enthusiasm never failed to cheer me up. And I talked with Beca about Jenny. My sister was my rock, after all.

"Beca..." I looked down, staring into my mug. "I do need some advice."

"Find a better barber and some new clothes."

I gave her a weak chuckle, and she lost her teasing smile instantly. "Sorry Ieuan, I can see this is serious. What can I do?" She reached for my hand.

"I think... well, I'm fairly certain that Sheila is cheating on Jenny. I have no proof though. And I don't know what I should do," I finished sadly.

"Oh my," she breathed. "That is a difficult spot to be in, my lad."

I nodded my agreement, still staring into my tea. "I don't know which would be worse. Tell her, with only my suspicions as evidence, and ruin our friendship. Because it would, eventually."

Beca dipped her head once in concurrence.

I continued, "Or not tell her and have her angry at me for keeping secrets."

Another silent head bob.

We sat for a while until Beca spoke. "There's another option, but of course, it incurs its own risk. I can't believe I'm saying this because I hate keeping secrets, but you probably should bury this knowledge from Jenny. She's the innocent one after all. But you could use it on..."

"Sheila," I whispered.

I stayed through the New Year. We spent those days just enjoying our time together, and then it was time to pack up and make the drive back to Cardiff for the flight home.

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Chapter 6

January

After I got back, Jenny called to ask if we could have our usual lunch on Wednesday. She threw her purse and coat on an empty chair, as we greeted each other. When she took off her coat, I noticed she was showing quite a bit more than the last time I'd seen her, though it had only been a few weeks.

She was clearly glad I was back, which made me feel... well, I wasn't sure. As I was busy introspecting, she chattered on happily. "How was your trip? Tell me all about it. How's your sister and her family? Did you run into any old friends?"

"Yeah, it was good. Ran into some old schoolmates. Mam and Dad flew out too, we had a nice Christmas. How about you? Did you and Sheila..."

I noticed her face cloud over. Just for a second. She looked down.

"Hey, what's that look?"

She looked up with a brittle smile. "Hmm? Nothing. Christmas was fine."

I gave her a long look. "Okay, well that's good."

There was an awkward silence, and as I tried to think of a way to navigate around it, she took a breath and spoke. "I ran into Rogers again the other day."

"Oh, that's a bit of luck; how is he?"

She smiled. "He's a character, that's for sure. He saw me working, and popped in the shop just to say hello. He was only there a minute; but before he left, said the most puzzling thing. 'Trust is like a child's innocence.'"

"How odd!"

"Well, you know about our game where we try to stump each other with quotations, but this felt... different. Actually, this is the second time he's done it - where it's like he's trying to tell me something?"

"But for some reason, he doesn't want to come right out and say it," I finished. "That does sound like Rogers."

"I'm sure he was saying that trust is something that once lost, can never be regained, but why would he say that?"

"Rogers doesn't do anything without a reason. Figuring it out, the why of it, is the challenge." I shook my head.

I distracted her by telling her about the walk Linnet and I took around the Kilvey Hill Trail and over to Martin's Pond. I had her smiling by the end with the story of how Linnet tried to feed a squirrel, and it ran right up her pants leg, making her scream, and how she jumped on my back and made me carry her the rest of the way back to the car.

"Oh Ieuan, I so want to meet her. She sounds wonderful."

"She is that. I hope you get the chance. I'll twist Beca's arm a bit."

We said our goodbyes and promised to meet soon. She gave me a hug, and I couldn't help but notice the clean shampoo scent of her hair.

It just slipped out. "You smell nice," I said.

She looked at me a little strangely but gave me a little wave as she headed off.

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I quickly fell back into my normal routine. A lunch or two each week with Jenny, teaching, grading, and beginning to outline my latest paper. It wasn't quite a publish-or-perish environment, but we were expected to contribute to scholarly journals. And it was my passion, so I certainly didn't begrudge the work.

I'd also been, well, wrestling with an idea. The problem was that I wasn't sure if it was a good one or not. St. Dwynwen's Day was coming soon, which was the Welsh equivalent of St. Valentine's Day, and I had purchased a traditional gift while I was in Wales. At an antique shop in town, I found a beautiful old wooden spoon that was hand-carved in the shape of an infinity knot. I was quite pleased; it took me a long time to find one that was just right, something that wasn't kitschy and covered in hearts.

"So, what do you think, Hank? Bad idea?" He put his paw on my knee.

"Really? Big mistake, you reckon?"

St. Dwynwen's wasn't just about love; it could mean friendship as well, but in America... I was afraid that giving such a gift would be sailing a bit too close to the wind.

He whined, and I sighed. "You're probably right." And I wrapped it back up and put it away.

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Lately, I was working on an outline for a new academic article detailing the aftermath of The Battle of the Wilderness, one of the more horrific engagements of the Civil War. I was focusing on the issues caused by the extremely rough and uneven terrain over which the battle had been fought. It was densely overgrown, heavily wooded, and interspersed with ravines, gullies, and streams. Both during and after the battle, it caused extreme difficulty for the combatants to find and tend to the wounded or to recover the dead. The details were horrendous, and it was a brutal reminder of the hardships faced by both sides of the war. I was thankful for the interruption when my phone rang.

"Iuean? Umm... Can I ask you a really big favor?"

"Getting right to it, are you?" I chuckled. "But sure, of course, Jen, you know that. If I can, I will."

"Well... this is a little awkward. You know I've started Lamaze classes, right?"

"Uh huh..." I said, a tad warily.

"Umm... the thing is... Sheila has stood me up the last two times, and she just told me she can't make the next one... and it's so awful being there alone; the looks I get from the other mothers..." I heard a sniffle. "Would you... would you please go with me?" she finally asked in a tiny voice.

"... ... ..."

"Iuean? Are you still there?"

"What? Oh, yes, sorry. Umm... did you just ask me to go to Lamaze with you?"

"Yes? But you don't have to..." She sounded dejected.

I scrambled to recover. "Jen, of course I will. I'd be honored. You've just caught me by surprise, that's all. So, when do you need me?"

"Umm... tonight?"

Bloody hell!

"Ieuan?"

"Err, of course. What time shall I pick you up?"

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On the car ride to the class, Jenny filled me in on the two sessions that she had attended by herself. Those had covered an introduction to the Lamaze philosophy, then had progressed to the anatomy and physiology of childbirth.

To say the least, my mind struggled to pull away from the research I had been conducting and focus on what Jenny was telling me - from the horrors of war to the wonders of childbirth! By the time we arrived, I had managed to push my paper to the back of my mind.

Before we entered, she confessed that when Sheila didn't show up for the first class, she had lied and said her partner was traveling for business.

"I'm sorry, Ieuan, I was so embarrassed!"

"Don't worry, Jen - I've got your back." And I'm sorry you had to lie for her.

She greeted a few of the other expectant couples and then introduced me to the instructor, Megan Portnoy. Megan was probably in her forties and had a kind, caring demeanor that instantly put me at ease. She told me she was happy that I was able to make it, without making it seem like a reproach.

I said, "Megan, I can't thank you enough for looking out for Jenny while I've been overseas. I hated to miss those sessions, and I promise, no more travel!"