by Lori Leger
Cynthia pulled a business card from her wallet and handed it to Lydia. “Take this. If you have any problems, call me. I’m a pediatrician.”
Lydia studied the card. “I thought your name sounded familiar. This is where I’m delivering.”
“Then you’ll probably see me there. I’m off a couple of days a week so call me if you don’t see me around.”
“I sure will, and thank you.” She checked her buzzing phone. “Ah, Jordan, the babysitter has an emergency. We need to get going.” She palmed her phone and turned to John and Cynthia. “It was a pleasure meeting you both, and I will hang on to this card.”
A couple of goodbyes and two handshakes later, John helped Cynthia into his truck.
“What a sweet couple. I sure hope Lydia delivers when I’m on duty.”
“You gave her your card, so …”
“Oh, I think she’ll have other things on her mind when the time comes.”
He buckled himself into the driver’s seat and lifted her hand from the center console. “I have a feeling we’ll see those two again.”
About halfway home on I-10 Eastbound Cynthia leaned forward to gaze out of the windshield. “Look at all those stars. With all the lights and trees and roofs blocking the view you can barely see the stars at Mom’s place.”
John Michael grinned. “Are you in a hurry to get home?”
“Not especially. Why?”
“You’ll see.” He took the next exit, hit the service road and turned onto a smaller, parish road. Her gasp of delight had him smiling as he pulled up beside a huge pond, the full moon reflecting brightly from the glass-like surface of the water. John backed up his truck to the pond then parked it. He climbed out and met her at the passenger door. “Come on, I have a feeling you’re going to appreciate this.”
He lowered the tailgate of his truck and helped her up before seating himself beside her.
“How’s this for a view?”
She stared out at the glistening surface of the pond, then lifted her gaze skyward and smiled. “It’s beautiful out here. How do you know this place?”
“I’ve helped a friend of mine work cattle out here for years.” He pointed to the south. “His place is about a mile down, just past the ridge of trees.”
She arched her back to stare at the sky. “Look at all these stars, would you?”
“Not a thing out there to block your view.”
“No kidding.”
John Michael reached up to point at the moon. “The moon’s waxing and it’s only a crescent so there’s not enough light to compete with the stars tonight.” He lowered his arm and rested it on the truck bed behind her.
They sat there, surrounded by nature—bullfrogs croaking, crickets chirping, the fluttering of wings as a hawk or owl hunted for its supper, and the water making gentle lapping noises at the shoreline. The moment was peaceful, beautiful, and it didn’t surprise him when Cyn reached for his hand and draped it over her neck. She gasped as a shooting star streaked across the sky.
“Make a wish, Cyn.” John Michael watched as she closed her eyes. She turned, lifted her gaze to his. He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her, softly, gently. When he pulled back and looked down at her, she was wearing a smile. He touched the corner of her mouth with one finger. “What are you smiling at?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing. What?”
“I was thinking I’d never had a wish come true that quickly before.”
“Yeah?” He nodded and chuckled, before planting another kiss on her, this one with a little more tongue and a significant rise in heat level.
He pulled back, feeling slightly breathless, his heart pounding as he rested his forehead against hers. “So, Dr. Ellender—have I passed your test?”
She grinned and nodded. “Mm. With flying colors, Mr. Ferguson.”
“Does this mean we’re going steady?”
Cynthia lifted one shoulder in a dainty shrug. “Until something better comes along.”
He pulled back, frowning. “Really?”
Her eyes crinkled with laughter. “No.” She pulled him by the collar and went in for another kiss. Moments later, it was Cyn pulling back, breathless and panting. “You know, I’ve always told myself I was remembering my first kiss from you as more than what it was. I mean, we were both gawky kids. No way could you have perfected your kissing technique first rattle out of the box, right?”
John stepped down from the tailgate, laughter rumbling deep in his chest. “Well, I’d like to think I’ve learned a few things over the years. Maybe I’m a little rusty.” He stood in front of her, stepped between her legs, the height of the truck putting Cyn’s face level with his.
She reached up, taking his face between her two palms. “You’re missing my point, John Michael.”
He leaned forward, kissed her forehead. “What’s your point, Cyn?” He placed a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose.
“I’m trying to tell you even at thirteen, your kiss made my toes curl. It’s only improved with time.”
He ran one hand up the back of her blouse to her neck, his fingers cupping her skull to pull her closer. He started a trail of soft kisses, starting at her left ear to the crook of her neck, and then on to the smooth as silk skin of her shoulder. Her guttural groan had him smiling as his mouth followed its own trail back to her luscious lips. His arms lowered to her butt and he pulled her closer, voiding any gaps between them.
She reciprocated, lifting her arms around his neck to embrace him as he kissed her again. The feel of her foot curling around his calf, urging him closer, had him wondering how she’d feel about sex under the stars.
A buzzing by his ear and a sudden slap to her neck brought him back to the harsh reality. This wasn’t some love scene from a sappy romance movie. This was late spring in south Louisiana, replete with enough mosquitoes to carry off a small child.
“Looks like the bugs found us,” he growled. “Damn, that didn’t take long.”
“It was bound to happen.” She slapped at the mosquitoes covering her arms. “Oh my goodness. I’d forgotten about the perils of parking in Louisiana.”
He brushed off a couple of the blood suckers from her face, then his own as he helped her down from the tailgate. “Parked a lot, did you?”
“Some. Probably not as much as you did, but apparently enough to remember this part of it.”
“Only not with me.”
“Nope. Never with you.”
He grinned as he walked her back to the truck and opened the door for her. “Can’t say that anymore, can you?”
She laughed as she slapped at another mosquito. “No, I guess not. Now get me the hell out of here before I need a blood transfusion. If I pass out before we get to the emergency room, I’m B positive.”
He laughed as he started the truck, and got them quickly back to the paved road. They drove with the windows down until all the bugs that had followed them into the cab had been blown out.
Cyn’s laughter surrounded him, light and carefree, as she flipped open the lighted visor mirror and tried to smooth down her hair, then gave up and fluffed it instead.
Suddenly, the strangeness of the situation hit him. For the first time since Bethie died, he had a woman sitting beside him in his truck. He waited for the pang of guilt that never came, finally decided he’d let enough water pass under this particular bridge. A decade and a half was a hell of a long time to be without female companionship.
He wasn’t only thinking about sex. Sure he missed the hell out of it, but he missed other things more. Like talking to a woman about the day he’d had, falling asleep in bed in the middle of a conversation, holding her in his arms, or dancing in the kitchen for the fun of it—all the things he and Beth used to do.
It dawned on him then. He’d never taken his wife to the spot he’d just taken Cyn. For some reason, it made him a little sad. But then, shouldn’t he be working on new experiences rather than reliving old experiences wi
th a new woman? He turned, caught Cyn gazing up through the passenger window at the night sky.
Definitely.
He turned his attention back to the highway, warmth creeping into a part of his heart that had remained empty and cold since losing his wife. For the second time since seeing this lady again he had to ask himself …
How in the hell had he forgotten about Cynthia Anne Robicheaux?
Bess opened the door to her home and held it until her daughter entered the house. The Sunday church service had been enjoyable, and they’d stopped off at the new Chinese restaurant in town and filled up on shrimp lo mein, and pepper steak with onions, along with a couple of side items.
Cynthia placed the to-go boxes in the fridge and straightened, patting her belly. “I’m stuffed.”
Bess had to agree. “I am too, but it was delicious, and we’ve got enough leftovers for supper tonight.”
Cyn threw her keys in the catch-all bowl by the back door and smoothed down her blouse. “I think I’ll have a salad or soup tonight and save mine for lunch tomorrow at the hospital. I can already feel the walnut shrimp going straight to my butt.”
Bess waved off her daughter’s complaint. “What butt? Thank goodness you were blessed with your father’s DNA when it comes to body shapes. All the women in his family stayed tiny. If I live to be eighty or older you’ll be able to roll me around like the little blueberry brat on the Willie Wonka movie you made me sit through the other day.”
Cynthia laughed. “Oh, stop. You look wonderful, Mom. Sorry about the movie, but it was one of the kids’ favorites when they were little. I couldn’t help myself when I saw it was on. I had the urge to reminisce a little.”
Bess rolled her eyes. “At least it was the older version. The newer one was a little creepy, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, well, Johnny Depp has a knack for making his roles a little creepy, doesn’t he?”
Her mother stopped in the hallway to face her. “Speaking of Johnny …”
Cynthia stopped and made a face as she raised her thumb and forefinger. “I was that close to getting away with it.”
Bess gave her daughter a hearty laugh. “Dream on, ma petite femme. You and Johnny stayed out in his truck quite a while after he brought you home. I was tempted to flash the porch light like your father did when you were a teenager.”
Cynthia frowned. “Don’t you dare. I’m fifty-three years old. Besides, we were only talking.”
“Really, Cyn? With a man as nice looking as John Michael, all you could do is talk?”
“Well, we talked most of the time anyway. Ah-ah.” She lifted one finger. “Don’t ask and I won’t have to lie to you.” She finished by “zipping” her lips shut.
Bess rested her hands on her hips. “I was wondering if he was as good a kisser as he was at thirteen, that’s all.”
“Sure you were.” Cynthia pretended to go through her purse then stopped suddenly and faced her. “For the record, he was fabulous then and he’s even better now.”
Bess stood there, staring at the daughter who’d gone through so many changes in the past year and a half. Not only had she lost a husband, but she’d been slapped in the face upon his death. What an awful thing to happen before you put your husband into his eternal resting place.
As much as she hated to admit it, she was almost grateful to her son-in-law. If he hadn’t broken his wife’s heart, Bess may never have had this opportunity to get her daughter so fully back into her life. She may have chosen to stay among the friends she’d made there, in the home where she’d raised all three of her children. But the cheating so-and-so had caused Cynthia to cut her ties with the past, and no mother hen had ever been so glad to have her baby chick back home.
“Well, you may be fifty-three, but you’re still my little girl, and I want to see you happy again before I die.”
Cynthia rounded on her. “Don’t say things like that, Mama. You’ve still got at least a good twenty years left, as active as you are.”
“Oh, I imagine I’ve got a few left in me—not sure it’s as many as twenty, though.” Bess stopped, the corners of her mouth drawn in the frown that made her the spitting image of her own mother when she looked in the mirror. She replaced it with a smile when she felt her daughter’s hand on her shoulder.
“You all right, Mom?”
She nodded, blinking away tears. “I’ve lost so many of my friends the past few years.” Her eyes grew moist as she shook her head slowly. “And there’s poor Marilee, sitting in that place, not knowing from one day to the next who she is. It breaks my heart.”
“Would you like to go see her today, Mom? I could bring you. Right now if you’d like.”
“Oh …” she spoke breathlessly. “Could we, please? I’d so love to see my old friend again.”
“Sure. Let’s get into something more comfortable for the drive over. Maybe bring her some of those tarts you made yesterday.”
Bess knocked on the door to Marilee’s room, pushed it open after hearing a soft “Come in.” Her old friend sat there, dressed and ready for company. Whether or not she’d recognize her, was still up in the air.
Marilee rose from her seat. “Oh, hello. Can I help you ladies? Perhaps you’re in the wrong room?”
Bess stood frozen in place, unsure of what to say. The feel of Cynthia’s light touch on her arm gave her the courage to speak. “Hello.” She took a tentative step forward. “I’m Bess Robicheaux, and this is my daughter, Cynthia. We’re going around visiting some of the residents. Would you mind if we sat and talked for a bit?”
Marilee beamed at her. “I’d love it. I don’t get many visitors here—or, I don’t think so, anyway. What did you say your name was?”
“I’m Bess, dear—and your name?”
“I’m—I’m …” Her voice trailed off suddenly.
Bess stemmed her urge to cry, keenly aware of the pain poor J.D. must go through every time his wife saw him as nothing more than a polite stranger. “Are you Marilee, by any chance?”
“I—I believe I am.” She looked around her room as though she were trying to assess her surroundings. “Sometimes—they have to tell me my name. Sometimes I’m a little lost.” Her gaze returned to Bess. “But, I could use some company, so if it doesn’t bother you, it shouldn’t bother me, right?”
Bess smiled at her, amazed how even in the throes of dementia her old friend still retained her sense of humor. Whether Marilee realized it or not, she’d possessed her own unique wit, and for as long as she’d known her, had made good use of it.
Her first visit with Marilee was the most difficult for her. She spent an hour talking with her, must have had to repeat her name, as well as their reason for being there, at least four times. Finally, she’d given her daughter “the look” indicating she was ready to leave. She’d been on the verge of tears all the way home, vowing silently not to go back. It was too difficult seeing her that way.
By the next morning, she knew she would make more return trips. Something told her Marilee was still inside the polite shell of a woman she’d once been. As long as there was a chance to see her again, she’d keep trying. Three days later, she made the second trip alone and it was easier. For a split second, she thought she saw a hint of recognition on the woman’s face. It vanished instantly, leaving Bess to reintroduce herself, using the same story as before. That time Marilee handed her a spiral bound notebook.
“Could you sign this, please?”
“Well, certainly. What’s it for, Marilee?”
“It’s so I can keep track of my visitors in case I forget your name.”
Bess chuckled as she signed her name. “This doesn’t surprise me one bit. You’re a smart cookie and always so organized.”
“Am I?”
Bess stopped and met her intense gaze. “Yes, dear. You’ve always been organized.”
Marilee blinked several times, put her hand to her chest, and smiled. “You knew me before?”
Bess reached out, placed a hand
on Marilee’s shoulder. “Yes, dear. We’re very good friends, you and I. We’ve been through a lot together.”
Marilee seemed to study her for a moment. “I know I’m in this place because I occasionally forget who I am. I wish I could remember every memory I’ve lost. I wish I could remember you. You seem … important to me somehow.”
Bess sighed as a single tear made a track down Marilee’s fair cheek. She gave her friend a sad smile and a gentle hug. “At our ages, some things are best left forgotten, old friend.”
She waited two days before making another trip to see her, again with no trace of recognition from Marilee. She “signed-in” as a visitor, none the less. The following Monday’s visit got exactly the same result. Three days later, Cynthia suggested she take J.D. along, since John Michael would be filling in for Zach at the feed store all day.
Bess agreed, whole heartedly. “I’m more than happy to take him but we really need to talk J.D. into having his cataract surgery. Once a man loses his independence, the rest goes to hell in a hand basket. It about killed your father to have me cart him all over the place once he got too weak to drive.”
“I agree. Maybe you can talk him into it on the way over.” She kissed her mom on the cheek and headed to the door. “Later Mom, and drive carefully.”
They made one stop at a nearby florist so John could pick up a bouquet of Forget-Me-Nots for Marilee. When he got back into the car, she eyed the flowers.
“That’s why those flowers are always in her room. I’d wondered.”
“They’ve always been her favorite flowers, but now they have a special meaning, don’t they? I always come here for them. This place keeps them in stock for me, as much as they can, anyway.”
By the time Bess pulled into a parking spot at the facility, they were deep in conversation about his cataracts and whether or not to have the surgery. They met at the front of the car and she gave his arm a pat.
“I’m telling you, it’s a piece of cake, J.D. After you’re done, you’ll wonder why the heck you put it off for so long.”