The Thrill Is Gone

It was early in the morning on the twenty-seventh of August, that Paulina climbed into moving truck and began the forty-four hour drive to Cambridge, Massachusetts. She wasn’t looking forward to the hours upon hours of driving that lay ahead. Whenever she drove to Salt Lake City to visit her aunt, she always arrived tired and ill humored, having to be constantly vigilant and aware of her surroundings, always took it out of her. It would’ve been nice to be able to hit the open road without having to worry about other drivers, but alas, there was always traffic on Californian highways, and there would surely be traffic on the roads ahead. She only hoped that when they traveled through the Midwest, they would find open stretches of road on which to pick up their speed, and that the traffic in the busier states wouldn’t be bad enough to keep them from reaching Cambridge early on the twenty-ninth.

It was crucial for Paulina that they get to her new home early in the morning, preferably around eight. That way they could unload everything, set up the furniture, and place the boxes in their corresponding rooms. She wasn’t naïve enough to think she’d be able to finish unpacking in a day. It would take several, perhaps even a week to fully settle into her new home, but she just wanted to get the furniture in the right place, and set up her bed. That was what mattered most to her. She wanted to get the couch, armchair, and coffee table in the living room, the small dining table and four chairs in the kitchen, and to be able to set up her bed, desks, and bookcases in her bedroom.

Once they’d done that, she’d be fine. And she knew it wasn’t going to take long between the five of them. Alistair had driven out with her and Harry, he was switching off on the driving with Paulina. Every eight hours, they rotated, and Gethin and Kamal were flying out to Boston so they were going to be there when Paulina showed up with the rest of them. She’d told them just to inspect the property for the standard security check they did whenever Harry went there, but Harry decided that since they were going to be there for two days, they might as well give the basement suite a good scrubbing.

The drive, though lasting nearly two days, was an uneventful one. The roads had been agreeable enough, the traffic not so bad, and if they hadn’t stopped as frequently as they had, the trip would’ve been several hours shorter, but even then, they were able to arrive at the house by nine in the morning, and waiting out on the front porch were Gethin and Kamal.

The pair had become well acquainted with the owner of the house, a retired journalist by the name of Meredith Donoghue. She was a friendly woman whom was well read and fond of visitors. Her husband had passed away early in the year and her children only visited occasionally on weekends, so she was glad of the company the men afforded her. She personally gave them a tour of the property, leading them through the yard, and then into the basement suite where Paulina would be living. Its entrance was located off to the side of the house. There were two automatic lights that illuminated the area all night. She showed them the well sized living room, the kitchen, the bedroom, the bath and the laundry room that housed her old washer and dryer. They weren’t necessarily old, having been purchased only two and a half years earlier, but after her husband died, her children began buying her gifts to cheer her up, and her eldest daughter, Rebecca, had sent a washer/dryer for mother’s day. So the news ones were upstairs in her house, and the old ones were downstairs for Paulina’s use.

Meredith spent a significant chunk of her day with the security details, and the following morning, when they showed up to await Harry and Paulina’s arrival, she invited them to take coffee with her on the front porch. The men, though not massive coffee fans, warmly accepted the offer. They sat with her on the porch, drinking New England Roast coffee. As they sat with her, they learned that that was the first time Meredith was renting out her basement. For years, the space had been nothing more than an area her husband retreated to for a couple of hours on the weekend. Before that, it had been the home to her son and his first wife, their own apartment when they couldn’t afford an actual one, but then they moved out, and it became a man cave until her husband’s death. And for several months after his passing, it remained an untouched room that she retreated to whenever her loneliness got the best of her.

It had never been her plan to rent the space out. She didn’t need the extra income to live on. Working for NBC throughout her entire professional career had left her with a comfortable pension, and not to mention her savings account and the social security she received, and now that her husband had passed away, she received his pension as well. She was financially secure, but was lonely. She had two grown children with families of their own, but their lives didn’t allow them to visit her more than two or three times a month. She knew that given their busy schedules, they couldn’t be with her on a daily basis, but she needed more company. Their visits, her trips to the senior center, and her occasional brunches weren’t enough to keep her happy. So she decided to rent out the basement. That way she’d have a tenant to chat with for a few minutes each day. She knew that they wouldn’t want to spend all their time with a sixty-five year old woman, but they’d have a few minutes for her a day, she could even invite them over to eat or to join her for coffee on the porch, and with that in mind, she made a few upgrades to the kitchen and added a fresh coat of paint to the house. She fixed it up on her own, using it as a project to keep her busy, and when she finished, she was ready to rent it out. She just didn’t know how to go about it.

Needing help, she reached out to her children, asking them to put an ad out on the internet, on that Craigslist everyone was always talking about, and she asked her granddaughter to make her some flyers to put up at the university, because Meredith wasn’t one for graphic design. Her granddaughter on the other hand, was. She was skilled at Photoshop, and Meredith hoped that her granddaughter’s abilities would help her in attracting a grad student or a master’s student that would be a good tenant. Meredith was adamant about getting her listing on the internet and the flyers on campus, but neither of them were ever put to use, because when she mentioned to her old friend, Ted Kennedy, that she wanted to rent her basement out, he told her that he had the perfect tenant for her.

Having a high respect for Ted, Meredith decided to follow his advice and taken on the young woman as her tenant. There was a part of Meredith that was nervous about whether or not reporters would swarm her home, such a thing would certainly shake things up in her life, but despite her nerves, she was somewhat excited at the prospect of it. She would never cooperate with the press and feed them information on her tenant, but she decided that they would be a good distraction, something to keep her busy when her usual pursuits bored her. So she rented out her apartment to the young woman, and when Paulina pulled up in the moving truck, Meredith was there to welcome her to her new home.

Their initial meeting went exceedingly well. Paulina was polite and thanked the elderly woman for having taken her as a tenant. She had been worried that given her status, people would hesitate to let her move into their apartment complex or into their home. In fact, there had actually been a few places that rejected her because of that. She had found a small studio apartment that she absolutely loved, but she was denied because the building manager didn’t want to have any issues with people breaking windows or tampering with doors to sneak into the building. She had found two basements that would’ve done well for her, but the owners said they didn’t want to deal with the press. So when Ted called her and said that he’d found her a place to live, Paulina was grateful, and she wanted to relay her gratitude to Meredith.

For her part, Meredith was attentive, and told Paulina that if she ever needed anything, anything at all, to not hesitate in getting in touch with her. Paulina warmly thanked her for that, and then, she introduced Meredith to Harry, whom charmed the woman and had her acting the part of a giddy teenager.

When they finished with the introductions, Meredith excused herself from them so that Kamal and Gethin could show them the basement suite. Paulina had expected to find it in decent shape, it would be tidy, but still in need of a proper scrubbing, but when she stepped inside, she saw that everything had already been giving a vigorous cleaning. It was in perfect shape, and when she saw Kamal and Gethin looking rather proud, she knew that it had been their doing. They had cleaned her new home, and unable to control herself, she hugged them both tightly and kissed their cheeks, thanking them all the while.

Paulina was delighted to see that the basement was more spacious than she’d expected. The pictures that Senator Kennedy’s assistant had sent over, made the suite appear only a bit larger than her old apartment in Oxford, but in truth, it was much larger. It ran the entire length of the house. It had a good sized living room, a reasonable dining space, an open kitchen that had more cabinet and counter space than her old apartment. Her bedroom was large, with enough space for her queen sized bed, her dresser, nightstands, and desk. There was a closet that had more than enough space for all her clothes, and while the bathroom lacked a tub, she was pleased with the condition everything was in.

After she finished checking out her new home, Paulina and the men began the tiring process of unloading the truck. They carried out her furniture, her appliances, and the boxes that had been piled high, along with her suitcases. It took them the better part of an hour to unload everything, and another hour to set the furniture up and place them in their corresponding spaces.

By eleven-thirty in the morning, the security details had driven off to their nearby hotel, leaving Paulina and Harry to their own devices. Paulina resolved to unpack the basics. The kitchen items were put away, along with the Costco sized bags of rice and beans, the massive box of oatmeal, the granola bars, and water and juices. Once the kitchen was settled, she redirected her attention to the bathroom, where she set out her body wash, shampoo, conditioner, medicine cabinet, and all the other touches that were necessary to make it functional for her. When she finished the bathroom, she went over to her bedroom where she grabbed her mattress pad, and placed it on the bed. Once the bed was secured, she put on the sheets, her blanket, the comforter, and her pillows and the body pillow that would keep her company while Harry was away.

“What’s next?” asked harry as he ran a hand along her comforter. “Are we to do the living room?”

She shook her head. “We’re done for the day. I just wanted to get all the basics set up for us, that way we could shower and eat and sleep. The living room, I’ll deal with some other time, but for now, I think we should shower and then do whatever we want.” She paused. “What time does your flight leave again? I know it’s in the evening. Is it six?”

“6:35.” He didn’t have to fly back on the 3oth. He wasn’t needed back on base until September 2nd, but he had chosen to fly back on the 30th so that he would be able to be there on the 31st, the anniversary of his mother’s death. He and Wills always spend that day together, and he didn’t want to break tradition. “We’ve a bit over a day till then.”

“A day . . .” she repeated in a voice just above a whisper. Her bottom lip began to quiver as her heart constricted at the thought of his leaving, she’d known all along that he was going to fly back and that they’d be separated, but she’d tricked herself into thinking it wouldn’t be so painful. It’d be tolerable enough, but now that she thought about it, now that his departure was just a day away, she felt like her world was beginning to crumble, but she didn’t want to cry while he was there. There’d be plenty of time for that later on. “Well,” she said, willing herself to sound normal, “We better make the most of it then. So, how about that shower?”

“Separate or together?” he asked.

“Together,” she said with a smile. “Definitely together, güerito.”

There would be enough time for separate showers in the coming months. They would be in different countries, leading very different lives, but at the moment they were together, and she wanted to take advantage of that as much as she could. She wanted to drink her fill of Harry. To look upon his face until that boyish smile and those twinkling eyes were so engrained in her memory, that whenever she closed her eyes, she would see him smiling back at her. She wanted to memorize his touch, so that on those long nights when the work was never-ending and her hope ran low, she would be able to recall his touch, and find the strength to carry on. She wanted to spend her every waking moment with him before they parted, because her heart was already beginning to crumble, and she needed to be strong.

If not for herself, for him.

And that was exactly what she did. For those last twenty-eight hours they had together, she was carefree and affectionate and silly and loving and joyous and passionate. She forgot about the world outside the basement. She forgot about Kennedy’s death, about the press that was lingering outside the house, about the challenges their relationship would face as a result of their separation. She forgot about all that. All she focused on was Harry.

For those twenty-eight hours, he was her world, more than that, he was the center of her universe. She doted on him in ways that she hadn’t been able to since their days alone in Oxford. She gave herself entirely to him, and he did the same. He was determined to be happy, to spend their last hours in complete and utter bliss so that when he looked back on it during their time apart, he’d smile brightly and have enough joy to hold him over until he saw her again, because he might have been acting like everything was alright, but the truth was that he was in as bad a shape as Paulina.

He was dreading flying back to England. The mere thought of being in a different country from her, made him grow faint of breath. He didn’t want to leave her behind in America, even if it was just across the pond. In a perfect world, he would’ve been able to withdraw from the university on her behalf, enroll her at Oxford and fly her out with him. He dreamt of doing that, of her continuing to live in her little flat in Oxford, and for a long time, he had managed to trick himself into believing there was a possibility of that. He’d convinced himself into thinking that at some point or another, she was going to realize that she was making a massive mistake by going to Harvard, and tell him that she wanted to go with him to England instead. He would sort things out for her, talk to the registration people at Oxford to get her enrolled in classes, and get them a little cottage to live in. He’d had it all planned out in his head, it was a very well-constructed little lie, but now that she had her new home set up, he couldn’t keep believing it.

She was going to stay in Cambridge, and he was going to fly back to England. That was just how things were, and though it pained him to acknowledge so, he knew he had to, because soon enough he was going to go without her. He wouldn’t be able to see her as often as he liked, only once a month, sometimes longer if her schedule permitted. He would be without the most important person in his life, and that terrified him. But he had to be strong. He had to be alright for her.

And that what was he did. He didn’t let his fears of the future get the best of him. He was the güerito that she knew and loved, and he spent those last hours making love to her and making it perfectly clear that regardless of the distance, his heart was hers and hers alone. She was his world. She’d been his world for a long time, and he was determined to do right, because he couldn’t imagine a future without her.

Their time was spent making love and memorizing the slopes and curves of one another’s bodies. They spent their time engrossed in their love. They were lost in their own little world until Alistair called Harry to inform him that it was almost time to head out to the airport.

Once that phone call was had, the mood was different. They tried to stay upbeat, to be as they’d been for the last twenty-eight hours, but it wasn’t the same, because when they showered they weren’t scrubbing off the dirt so they could go ahead and spend their hours making love, they were washing themselves so they could go into public and Harry could board the plane.

That made a huge change in both of them. They were quieter, their confidence diminished. In three hours, Harry would be on a plane to England, and Paulina would be in America. They were about to put thousands upon thousands of miles between them, and they couldn’t rally enough strength to seem unaffected by it.

They walked into the airport looking quite grim. Neither had the energy to pretend to be alright when the reporters were shoving cameras in their faces. It wasn’t like they ever smiled at them or seemed pleased to be in their presence, so they didn’t think looking alright was worth the energy it would take. It wasn’t until the airport security made their way to Harry, and told him to please accompany them that he and Paulina tried to seem alright.

“I reckon it’s time I go,” said Harry, desperately trying to seem unaffected by it all.

“Yeah. I think it is.” Paulina stated, shifting nervously on her feet. “That way you get through security and all that, and don’t miss your flight.”

“Yeah, yeah, definitely.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “So . . . I’ll, uh, I’ll ring you when I get in. Well, I’ll ring you when it’s a decent hour over here that way I won’t risk waking ya up or anything like that.”

“Don’t be silly. You call me as soon as you land. I don’t care what time it is. I just want to know you got in alright.”

“In that case, I’ll phone you.” Harry promised. “Uh, how’s about a kiss then, for the road?”

“A kiss sounds good,” she said, her voice cracking towards the end. “Come here, güerito.”

Their lips met in a chaste kiss, and in that moment everything was fine. Their love blinded them to what was about to happen, giving them false hope that it wouldn’t be too painful, and when they pulled away, they seemed a bit better, a bit calmer than they had before they kissed, but then . . . then they hugged.

And it all went to shit.

The moment he took her in his arms, she lost it. She’d wanted to be strong for him, to not let him see her cry because then then he was going to spend the flight worrying about whether or not she was alright. And she didn’t want him to worry. She didn’t want him to stress over what she was feeling, but she couldn’t control herself. The tears started the moment he held her. His embrace had taken from her the little control that she had, and she couldn’t help but cry into his chest. She wanted him to stay. She wanted him to go home with her and live in her apartment and just . . . she didn’t want him to leave. She didn’t want to give him up, even if it was her fault he was going on the plane.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled into his chest, drenching his jumper with her salty tears. “I’m so sorry, Henry.”

“Don’t apologize, love. There’s no need.” Harry gently stroked her hair, struggling to keep his own emotions in check. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“But I have,” she croaked out as she lifted her head from his chest, putting her tear stained face on full display. “I thought I could do this. I thought it wouldn’t hurt this much, but it does. And I know I shouldn’t be crying because we’re in public, but I can’t help it, güerito. I can’t.” Her body began to tremble as her crying intensified. “I love you so much, so fucking much. The thought of you not being here terrifies me. I want my güerito.”

“And he wants you,” declared Harry in a strained voice, a single tear sliding down his cheek. “He wants you desperately.”

Needing to convey to her just how much he needed her, Harry dipped his head down and captured her lips. He kissed her fiercely, without measure, not giving a fuck if there were hundreds of people staring at them. They didn’t matter. The photographers didn’t matter. All that mattered was her. He wanted her more than anything, and he kissed her with every fiber in his being, trying to make the moment last a lifetime.