still a beginner. Don’t kick my ass,” Frank said sarcastically as he stepped toward the dart machine.
“ Uh woo try newt to. Ma-bay Uh con hep you. I wuss de Iowa stat mun’s da-vison-nil chum-peon for sex years strut.”
“ Fuck.”
Forrest chuckled . “Uh um ruddy, Frunk.” Forrest grabbed his darts.
“ Great.” Frank huffed and shook his head.
Henry saw that Frank was occupied and took that as his sign to leave .
He thought about going back to Joe ’s, but then as he stepped outside, he thought about something else.
Everything Frank said .
Not really everything , but a few things stuck out strong in his mind.
He stood there , outside the Social Hall, and Frank’s words raced through him.
“ Are you a saint, Henry?” Frank had asked.
Henry answered ‘no’, but the truth was, he was far from a saint. Henry portrayed himself to be the good guy and he thought he was. But lately, Henry had been seeing what he was.
He wasn ’t a good friend. Not at all. He was a selfish friend.
What he did to Frank was wrong , because Frank was his best friend. And right there and then, outside the Social Hall, Henry wanted to make it right.
He had to . He had to make up for marrying Ellen. He had to make up for that night.
That night .
It was right after Frank found out about Ellen and Dean ’s affair. They fought, he was mean, Ellen ran away. She ran outside of Beginnings and camped out. Henry found her.
She had been drinking heavily and wasn ’t ready to return to Beginnings. Joe was sick. Under the Salicain. So Henry stayed with her. They drank, they talked, they laughed, they kissed.
Then kissed some more .
He could still feel the inner turmoil of that night . Guilt for kissing his best friend’s wife. Guilt for needing the touch of a woman and forgetting it was Ellen.
Guilt … for letting it happen when Ellen was far too intoxicated.
The night , beyond the wall, flashed in his mind.
The kiss . The touch. The laugh and leading her to the blanket.
When did Ellen black out ? By the time Henry realized Ellen was ‘out of it’, it was too late.
A sickening and sinking feeling grappled at Henry ’s gut and he snapped his mind out of the thoughts of that evening.
Moments before Frank asked him , “ I’m in a mood to drink until I forget. Ever have one of those nights where you just don’t remember. ”
Henry didn ’t answer. Had he replied, he could have said ‘no’. He never had an evening where he drank so much he didn’t remember. But, he could say for certainty, on one such occasion, Ellen did.
Henry knew it , never said a word and never would.
She questioned him the next morning . She asked him what had happened. It was then he knew, she really didn’t have a clue. She honestly blacked out.
In his demented logic , if he didn’t tell her, then it was all right. It never really happened.
But it did . He was certain the truth would never come out. Then Nick was born.
So easily Henry jumped on the ‘conception questioning’ and ‘It had to be a time ripple’ bandwagon right along with Ellen. Jason’s invention offered him an excuse for a mistake he should have owned up to. But too much time had passed and he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.
Admitting what he did not only meant his friendship with Ellen and Frank , it could have very easily meant his residency in Beginnings.
How long had Henry carried it ? How long did Henry try to bury it as if it didn’t happen, that it was all a bad dream.
But it wasn ’t. And even though he would keep it tucked deep inside, Henry vowed right there, even though in his mind it was unintentional, he wronged both Frank and Ellen and he was going to make it up to them.
He would make it right somehow . But that somehow would be without the truth ever coming out ...
CHAPTER THREE
Ellen had floated away in a moment of memory. Thinking back to the early days of Beginnings and the day her and Dean got married. What brought it on? The simple