by Liz Talley
He came to the nurses’ station, rushing upon them so quickly one clasped her chest. “Sophie Zeringue?”
A rotund man stood. “You must be the papa.”
Nick stood there, panting with his shirttail hanging out. He probably looked like he’d busted out of the psych unit. “I’m her father.”
“First, take a deep breath. She’s doing good. Fever’s down to a manageable state. We have her on strong antibiotics, and she’s sipping apple juice. Come with me,” he said, heading toward an open doorway adjacent to the nurses’ station, squeaking in his plastic clog shoes. Nick stood for a moment and the nurse turned. “You coming?”
Nick followed him.
“Here we are.” The man entered one of several small bays that lined the floor. Before Nick could step over the threshold, he heard a man reading Pinkalicious, Sophie’s favorite book when she was in kindergarten.
When he stepped in and saw who was reading to his daughter, he laughed, partly relieved, partly amused.
Sitting in a chair next to a wan Sophie was a drag queen. And not just any drag queen, but the infamous Sista Shayla replete in sequins, long red fingernails, and glittery red lipstick.
And next to Sista Shayla, aka Derrick, was a sleeping Eden.
Derrick glanced up and said in a soft voice, “Sophie girl, look who’s here.”
“Daddy,” Sophie shouted, holding her arms up to him.
“Hey, baby,” he said, pulling her into a hug, noting her hair smelled sour and her words were more slurred than usual. His gut tightened as he squeezed her tight.
“I got sick,” Sophie said, moving her legs beneath the thin white sheet.
Eden opened her eyes. “You’re here. You have a beard.”
“Yeah, and you’re here. Why are you . . . Wait, you couldn’t have gotten from New York to . . . I don’t understand.”
“I moved back,” she said, rubbing her face and casting a glance at Derrick. “Sorry I fell asleep. You need to go.”
Derrick closed the book and set it on the rolling cart next to the hospital bed. “What about you? You want to come back with me now that Sophie’s dad is here? I need to leave in”—Derrick looked at the clock hanging above the bed—“ten minutes.”
Eden brushed her hair back. “Uh, sure. I mean, Nick’s here and Soph’s better.” She looked at his daughter and gave Sophie the most gorgeous of smiles.
The nurse stood in the doorway, staring at Derrick in his short silver-sequined cocktail dress.
Derrick scowled. “What? You wanna go in the supply closet and see if it’s all real or something?”
The male nurse blinked. “Uh, no. Sorry.”
Derrick showed his large white veneers. “Good, ’cause I don’t swing that way, handsome.”
The nurse disappeared. Derrick stood, all six foot three inches of him shimmering beneath the fluorescent lights. “I love being me. Now, I’m gonna step out and give you some time with Soph. Bye, baby girl.”
“Bye,” Sophie said, craning her head to watch him sashay out the door.
Nick turned to Eden. “What do you mean you’ve moved back?”
“I moved back. Today.” Eden tucked her dark hair behind her ears. She looked tired and like she’d lost some weight. She wore a Gatsby’s T-shirt with jeans that sagged a bit too much and tennis shoes that had seen better days. In other words, she looked fantastic . . . if only because she was there.
“Today?” he repeated, smoothing Sophie’s hair down and adjusting the tie on the back of her gown. “Why?”
“Because,” she said.
He waited for her to say more, but she didn’t. She just sat there looking . . . uncertain.
“What kind of answer is that?”
Eden spread her hands. “The only one I have right now. I mean, there are reasons I left New York City. I guess the best one is because I wanted to.”
“Soph, I know I just got here, baby, but I need to talk to Eden alone. Is that okay?”
“Mm-hmm,” Sophie said, her blue eyes somewhat more vacant than normal. The fever worried him, but she seemed better than he’d expected.
Eden wiped her hands on her jeans. “Where?”
“We’ll find a place close by,” he said, walking out of the room.
The nurse who had scurried away from Derrick and now sat in a chair across from the station lifted his brows.
“We’re walking down the hall for a moment.” Nick didn’t know how to feel. He was caught between worried as hell and joyous as hell. Sophie was okay. Eden was back in New Orleans.
Why hadn’t she told him?
They came to a small alcove containing a few chairs, a prayer box, and a picture of a sunrise over a bayou. Nick sank down, not trusting his legs much longer. He felt the same way as when he’d run a marathon. Sort of exhausted and euphoric. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I did.”
“No, not over Sophie. When you came back.”
“I flew into New Orleans at three this afternoon. The cab had just pulled up to the apartment when the hospital called. I phoned you and came here.”
“Which you also didn’t let me know.” He knew he sounded like her mother. Or rather not like her mother. Like his mother.
“You hung up before I could,” she said, sinking down next to him.
Her wildflower scent wafted to his nose. Nick wanted to touch her. He wanted to turn her over his lap and spank her ass for hurting him . . . and not telling him she was coming home.
Coming home.
Was that what this was . . . and why was he giving her such a hard time?
“And I didn’t text you because I was in such a hurry I left my phone on the charger in my apartment. I just came. Sophie needed me . . . or someone. You know?” She stared at the wall.
There were scuffs left from gurneys being pushed by. Her small face was so serious . . . so anxious. She hadn’t been prepared to see him. Or maybe she’d not wanted to see him at all. He’d behaved badly.
“Thank you for coming,” he said.
“Of course.” She still didn’t look at him. Silence stretched, a long shadow between them.
“Why’d you really come back, Eden?” His words fell like drips from a rusted faucet.
“Because I . . . I figured out dreams sometimes change,” she said, chewing her lower lip before hitting him with her gaze. In the blue depths shimmered apology . . . regret . . . yearning. And hope.
This was the moment he’d imagined those dark nights when regret shook him with snaggled teeth. He’d fucked up. Made an irrational demand. Walked out the door.
He’d thrown away loving Eden.
But now maybe he’d get a second chance to undo what he’d done.
“Broadway was your dream.”
“I thought so,” she said, studying her hands, chewing her lip again as if she tried to figure out how to say what needed to be said. “Maybe it wasn’t. I wasn’t happy there.”
His heart leaped. “But you’re happy here?”
Eden nodded. “I am.”
“But you left. You were done with New Orleans. Done with me.”
She made a face. “No. You made me be done with you. What could I say? You shut me out.”
Point made. He’d done exactly that, refusing to give her an opportunity to change things. He’d taken away any chance to make something work between them with his insecurity. “That’s fair. I avoided some things.”
“I texted you twelve times. That’s avoiding a lot of things.”
He had avoided a lot of things. “I admit I was hurt. I didn’t answer because I was afraid of the things I’d say. And then when I realized what an ass I had been, my pride got in the way. You know men and their stupid pride.”
“That’s an excuse. Saying that’s just what men do doesn’t pardon you from hurting people,” Eden said, a little more heat in her voice. “I was in NYC by myself, trying to do something really big . . . and not having you to talk to was hard. I needed you.”
&nbs
p; “You’re right. I’m sorry. I thought if I shut you out, it would be easier. But that didn’t work. Obviously.” He studied his hands, waiting for her to respond.
“How’s that obvious?”
He lifted his gaze to hers. Couldn’t she see how much he wanted her? How much he loved her? How scared he was she’d tell him he couldn’t undo what he’d done? “Can’t you see?”
Eden studied him. “Maybe I should explain why I came back.”
He stilled and waited.
“You know enough about my past in Morning Glory to know life hasn’t been a cake walk for me. My family was poor . . . is poor. You’ve met my charming mother, but thing is, she doesn’t even know who my father is. I worked at Penny Pinchers as a manager for ten years, and my only salvation outside of my friends was doing theatre and teaching dance. When I’m on stage, I’m comfortable, alive, and meaningful. The way the audience responds gives me validation. When the nights were bad, and they were, I would hold fast to the thought that one day the gift God gave me would change my life. So when Fredric called and handed me this opportunity, I had to go.”
“I know. I was there,” he said, unable to keep the pain from his voice.
Her head snapped up. “Don’t make this about you. Hear me out.”
Suitably smacked down, Nick nodded.
“I had to go because this was the path I’d set for myself. In my mind, it was the solution to all my problems. So though I loved you and Sophie, I wouldn’t let myself think of staying. I couldn’t.”
She said she loved him. Hope unfurled inside him, but he gathered it close, unable to give it free rein inside him. He needed to listen to her. Not make what happened about himself.
“My first week in New York was okay. I was too busy moving in, finalizing things here, and prepping for auditions. I filled my days with learning my way around, getting to know my seldom-there roommates and working at the restaurant until my feet ached. At night I fell asleep before my head hit the pillow. But once I settled in, loneliness and pain were my true companions. I missed you, and you wouldn’t call or text me back. Nothing was how it was supposed to be.”
He understood that feeling. When he’d first gone to college at LSU, his plans for all-night beer busts and hot chicks gave way to being confused about his major and missing his bedroom at home. But he’d not been alone. He’d had friends, and his parents were an hour away. Eden had been alone. “If you hadn’t gone, it would have always been a regret. You had to experience it.”
“Yeah, I did. It was a life I wanted . . . for a long time. I went to tons of auditions, and instead of feeling like that was what I should be doing, I started to doubt myself. I forced myself to be cheerful and feel encouraged, but it didn’t work. When Rosemary came to town, she asked me if I was happy.” Eden gave a wry smile. “And I wasn’t. Not that I was going to admit to being lonely, sad, and full of regret. She implied I was making myself stay in New York City because I was too stubborn to admit I had been wrong.”
“I understand that too. I just regret not being happy you had that opportunity. I didn’t support your dream. Instead, I thought only of myself, about how much it hurt to have you choose your career over me.”
“I didn’t have to choose.”
“I was wrong. If I had supported you, it might have made a difference. You might have stayed if I had put your dreams ahead of my own crippling fears.”
Eden tucked her hair back and issued a sigh. “Maybe so, but the thing is, I was fulfilled here. I loved working at Gatsby’s because I was part of something good there. I wasn’t making tons of money, but for the first time in my life, I was making it on my own. Then there was Sophie. Honestly, at first I didn’t want to take care of her. I had spent too many years caring for my mother, and she was a cranky, bitter thing, but as I grew to love Sophie, I realized caring for someone like her wasn’t a chore. I got to live her small triumphs. I had purpose.”
Her words bathed him in warmth. He loved her even more for loving his girl.
“Then there was you,” she said with another sigh.
The exasperation in her voice made him smile. “The sand in your gears?”
She laughed. “You were. You are. You were my boss and totally out of my league.”
“I’m not out of your league, Eden.”
“We had nothing in common, and our worlds were so far apart we needed binoculars to see each other. Still, I couldn’t help myself.”
“Against better judgment, we were meant to be.” He reached over and took her hand. She curled hers around his, and though her hand was small, it fit him. His Eden. Such a fighter. She was like that Corelle his grandmother used to serve him pancakes on at the camp. Looked delicate but bounced when you dropped it. “I took an unwritten vow to never mess around with anyone who worked for me, but you came along. Meant to be.”
“That’s what Sister Regina Marie called it.”
“Nuns must know.”
Eden finally smiled, then sobered when she looked up at him. “So now what?”
“What do you want, Eden?” he asked, wishing he’d asked her that in the first place. If he’d asked her what she wanted instead of asking her to choose between him and her dreams, he would have saved them both a lot of time and heartache.
“I want you,” she said, squeezing his hand. “If you’re still . . . I mean, if you still . . . want me.”
He didn’t think. Instead, he did what he’d wanted to do ever since he laid eyes on her sleeping beside his daughter’s bed. He kissed her.
Eden’s mouth softened and she kissed him back, putting her other hand over his and pulling herself to him. He’d had a lot of kisses in his life, had shared many with Eden, but he’d never experienced one as sweet and wonderful as this one. In the kiss there was sorrow, joy and promise. It said “I’m sorry” and “This is worth everything.” In essence, kissing Eden in the hospital alcove became the most monumental kiss of his life. In that exact moment, his future started.
Breaking the kiss, he stared into her blue eyes, remembering the despair in them the first time he saw her. There was no despair today.
“I don’t have a job,” Eden said with a whisper of a smile.
“You don’t need a job,” he said, meaning it. He wasn’t letting her go back to that shitty apartment in a suspect part of town.
“I do. But I also want to go to school this time. Hopefully Fredric will get me back in with Gatsby’s. He said Frenchie Pi likes to play hard to get but always gives it up in the end. His words, not mine,” she said, rising. “I’ll be there for Sophie, but I don’t think I can be her nanny.”
“You don’t have to be her nanny. The one we have now is good. You’ll like her.”
“Good. Don’t worry. I’ll do the things girlfriends do with their guy’s kids. I’ll take her for pedicures and watch goofy movies with her. I’ll help her with her homework and listen to her talk about boys.”
“Boys?” he repeated, making a face. Then he asked the question he’d wanted to know all along. “So you said girlfriend. Is that all you want to be?”
Eden’s mouth twitched. “For now. But I’m not opposed to a more permanent arrangement in the future. Uh, if that’s where we’re headed.”
Nick gathered her against him, wrapping her tight. “I love you more than I thought possible, Eden. I love you to the moon and back as trite as that sounds. I love you more than dutch double chocolate ice cream. More than LSU football. More than Christmas, Halloween, and Easter combined. I love you more than my life.”
“That’s sounds promising. More than promising. Damn good.” Eden lifted onto her toes and kissed him. “Now, I got a drag queen who needs to get to his gig in less than two hours, and you have a daughter who needs some daddy time.”
“I want you with me. Don’t leave me, Eden. Uh, I mean unless you want to.”
“I’ll stay with you and Soph,” she said, linking her hand in his and walking toward the room where his daughter lay sleeping.
Derrick looked up from a magazine and grinned. “Well, well, look at y’all. I’m guessing this means Lulu ain’t catching a ride back with me?”
Eden looked up at Nick with eyes so full of love, and his heart grew ten sizes. He’d finally found the woman who would stand beside him. And he would stand beside her . . . no matter where her career took her in the future.
Grinning at Derrick, Eden said, “Wild drag queens couldn’t drag me away.”
“Well, not in these shoes, darling,” Derrick said, waggling a size-thirteen silver-spangled pump. “Can’t get no traction in these puppies. Ciao, dah-lings.”
“Thank you, Derrick,” Eden said. “I owe you.”
Nick and Eden stood in the threshold of Sophie’s curtained room, listening to Derrick flirt with the nurses, their laughter so right because joy had triumphed today.
“Edie, are you staying?” Sophie managed to say sleepily.
“Yeah, baby, I’m staying. For good this time.”
Sophie smiled as she fell back into sleep.
Eden looped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest. “I can hear your heart beating. It’s saying E-den, E-den.”
And a heart never lies . . .
“Wait a sec, I have something for you girls,” Rosemary said, rising from the new sofa in Eden’s apartment and hurrying back to Eden’s bedroom.
Eden grabbed the half-filled bottle of white zinfandel from the coffee table and refilled her glass. She’d taken some of the bonus her agent had negotiated with Gatsby’s and bought a few nicer pieces of furniture for her apartment. Nick had insisted she move to a safer location, like his house, but Eden liked her apartment and wasn’t ready to take such a big step yet. So she’d put a fresh coat of paint on the walls of her bedroom and repaired the chipped Formica in the kitchen. Last week, she’d rallied the neighbors and started a petition to present to the owner of the complex for needed repairs.
Jess took the bottle from her hand and refilled her own glass. “God save us from Rosemary’s gifts. I just hope whatever it is, it’s not monogrammed. Ryan always teases me about how Southern girls need to have their name on everything. He asked when I was monogramming him.”