Lies of Promise

May 1961

Newberry Pointe, Connecticut

The gentle night air brushed against my face. Harlan and I were taking his graduation present, a nineteen fifty-seven cherry red Chevy Convertible for a spin. Thank God he knew the way because all I could concentrate on were the tires rolling over the rocky gravel or the car's headlights playing hide and seek with the trees. The car rolled to a stop and he turned the engine off.

"Ready?" he asked.

Harlan hopped out,rushed to my side and opened the door.

"It's not much farther. I'd thought we'd walk."

Harlan offered his hand. Questions raced through my mind. What if someone saw us?

I still had my doubts but deep down I trusted him. He was right. We waited so long; our secret conversations. We needed some time together.

I grabbed his hand and stepped out. Harlan gently moved me to his side, rummaged through the glove compartment and picked up a flashlight. He slammed the car door so hard I nearly jumped out of my skin.

He placed his arm around me. "Relax, Dee Dee. Take a deep breath."

I smiled at my nickname. It stood for "Dangerously Delicious."  Harlan boasted it was the only way to describe my kisses. He said: "Once you've tasted those lips... it takes a fella a while to recover."

He reached for my hand and started up the path. He felt me hesitate.

"Come on, let's go." Harlan tugged at me again.

"Wait." I released his hand and caressed his arm. "What if we can't get in?"

Harlan fumbled with his pants pocket. He dangled the key as a sign of victory. 

"When Ginny wasn't looking."

Not bad, I thought. Ginny considered herself the eyes and ears of that household. Nothing got past her or so she thought.

"Liza Sue?' he asked, dropping my nickname. 

This was insane. We should turn back now.

"Trust me, Liza Sue. You're safe. I would never let anything hurt you."

He guided me up the path.  I stumbled a few times and just like he promised, he was there to catch me. Harlan even offered to carry me the rest of the way, but I talked him out of it.  It was a matter of principle.  How would that look to have some little Northern brush woods get the better of me?

We reached our destination, a beautiful summer cottage with a private strip of beach.  It was a two story colonial; four huge bay windows on each side. The emerald green shutters only enhanced the beauty of the structure. It was the middle window with the most magnificent stained glass that caught my attention.  A kaleidoscope of reds, violets, blues, greens. I asked Harlan about the deck that was supported by two huge columns over the doorway.  He explained that it was to be an adjacent to the upstairs quarters. Originally a door would lead out to the deck.  However, his great-great-great- great grandfather decided it would be too dangerous. The stained glass offered the perfect solution.

We stood at the front steps for a moment and then walked up.  Harlan handed me the flashlight, extracted the key from his pocket and inserted the key in the locks.   He toyed with it for a few seconds.

"Sometimes the place gets a little temperamental," he answered. 

He pushed the door with his shoulder. The door finally gave way. I tiptoed in behind him. Although the cottage was surrounded in darkness, the few streaks of moonlight bouncing across the foyer made the room brighter somehow. Harlan turned towards me and touched my cheek.

"It's just us. No one's here."

We entered the living room. There wasn't much to see with all the furniture covered in drop cloth, but I saw the moonlight shine on the birch hardwood floors, the high ceilings and the built-in bookshelves that occupied both sides of the room. I imagined the patriarchs standing near the enormous mantelpiece, bourbons and scotches in hand, concocting the next lucrative deal to increase the Sterling Empire.

He walked to the right side of the room, whisked off the cloth and started tapping at the keys. 

"Mom used to play this thing whenever we were here.  I remember sitting with her for hours."

Harlan stopped tapping.

"I begged her to teach me. She always said ‘next year'. She left two days before my eighth birthday."

I felt loss surround him.  How saddening when a bond between parent and child is severed.  The wound still bleeds.

I saw a change embrace him.

"Maestro?" He bowed and offered me a seat next to him.

I began to play. Harlan's melancholy vanished as he watched my fingers dance along the keys.

"I can teach you if you like," I replied as I ended the song with a flourish.

 I heard the smoky timbre of his voice as he leaned closer.

"Oh, I am definitely in the mood for a lesson...but it has nothing to do with the piano."