Crazy For You

by Sandra Edwards

  Candy moaned. “Rich…?” Her voice was weak. Way too weak.

  He rushed to her side. “Candy…can you hear me?” Gently, he caressed her arm. “It’s me, Rich. I’m here.”

  “Rich,” she mumbled, dazed, trying to open her eyes. She could almost comprehend that something was forcing them to stay shut. “Where am I?” She tried to move. Awful pain shot through her chest. She winced.

  “Take it easy. Don’t try to move,” he said persuasively and laid on the nurse’s call-button. “You’re in the hospital. You had a little accident.”

  “What’s wrong?” She could almost grasp the reality that bandages were covering her face, but she was too tired to wonder or care. “Why can’t I open my eyes?”

  The door opened and a nurse came in. Rich felt a measure of relief. “She’s talking to me.”

  “Coherently?” the nurse’s tone was skeptical.

  “Well we’re carrying on a conversation,” he said. “That’s about as coherent as you can get.”

  “Ms. Simon…” The nurse picked up Candy’s wrist to check her pulse. “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes,” Candy said, weak and extremely tired.

  “Do you know who you are?” the nurse started the usual round of questions.

  “Candy…my name is Candy.”

  “Candy, do you know where you are?”

  “No.” But she wanted to know what happened. And why was Rich here? That nasty scenario had already played out…when? She couldn’t think anymore. So tired…maybe it’s all a dream…so hard to think…

  Scrambled thoughts drifted through her consciousness until it finally faded away.

  The next morning, Frank prepared a breakfast tray for Roxanne. He plucked a rose from the bouquet on the table and laid it next to the plate.

  Little Frankie followed him upstairs. “What’s that for?”

  “We’re going to take this up to Mommy so she can have breakfast in bed.”

  “Are you going to stay with us now, Daddy?”

  “For a while.” Frank didn’t want to push the subject just yet. “Let’s be very quiet when we go in,” he said, standing at Roxanne’s bedroom door. “And we’ll have some fun waking up Mommy.”

  Little Frankie opened the door, and it pleased Frank to see that Roxanne was still asleep. He set the tray on the nightstand and stalled before picking up the rose. Gently tickling the end of her nose, he recalled the incident from years ago when the tables had been turned. He counted on the fact that Roxanne would remember it too.

  Roxanne twitched her nose, but she didn’t wake up.

  Frankie laughed softly.

  Frank gave Frankie a finger-at-the-mouth gesture, urging him to keep quiet. After a moment, he tickled the bridge of her nose.

  She rubbed her nose, but still she didn’t wake up.

  Frankie giggled. “Mommy’s funny.”

  Roxanne felt a feather-light touch tickling her nose. Frank’s faint laughter invaded her senses, waking her. She shook her head and opened her eyes to the shocking sight of Frank sitting on the edge of her bed, holding a yellow rose.

  Her thoughts traveled back to the morning after their first time. But that was a different world. For one thing, Frank loved her back then. She didn’t think he was capable of loving her anymore.

  And what’s Frank doing here, anyway? Then she remembered. Reality overshadowed her shock and confusion in a horrid display of fear.

  Roxanne wasn’t prepared to see little Frankie standing behind his father, and she tried to smile for his sake.

  “Hi, Mommy.” Frankie giggled and waved.

  “Come here.” She motioned him to her side, and moved over to give him room to climb onto the bed. “There’s something we want to talk to you about.” She looked at Frank. This was going to be a tough conversation and she needed his help.

  Frank nodded, as if reading her thoughts, and sat down on the bed beside Frankie.

  “What’s wrong, Mommy?” Frankie asked, as if he sensed her turmoil.

  “Sweetie, your Aunt Candy’s been in an accident,” Roxanne said, weaker than she’d anticipated.

  “Huh?” Frankie didn’t hide his confusion.

  Roxanne combed her fingers through his jet-black locks, brushing them back from his face. “Aunt Candy was driving in her car last night and she got in a wreck on the freeway.”

  Frankie’s eyes grew wide. He knew what a car wreck was. He’d seen it on TV. “Will she be okay?” he asked, afraid. He didn’t quite understand his fear, yet he knew it was there.

  “Of course she’s going be okay,” Frank spoke up.

  “Is she in the hospital?” Frankie asked.

  “Yes, she is,” Roxanne said.

  “You know what hospitals are for, don’t you?” Frank asked, but didn’t wait for the boy to reply. “Sometimes, when we get sick or we get into a car wreck…we go to the hospital and the doctors make us all better. After a while, we get to come home…good as new.”

  “Can I go see her?” Frankie asked, hope filling his baby blues.

  “Well…” Roxanne’s voice trailed off. She didn’t want Frankie to see Candy in her present, unconscious state and with all those bandages.

  “See, buddy...” Frank stepped in, and Roxanne was grateful. “Aunt Candy needs to rest to get better, so she can come home. If you go see her, then she’ll want to get up to play with you,” he said, gently shaking his head. “But she’s not well enough to do that yet.”

  “Oh…” Frankie said softly, and his expression of hope turned to one of sadness.

  “But I’ll tell you what...” Frank bargained with him. “How about you and I go down to the florists and we’ll send Aunt Candy some flowers…just from you?”

  Frankie appeared to think about it a few seconds before his eyes lit up and a smile brightened his face. “Can I write my name on the card?” he asked, as if he knew all about sending flowers.

  “You can write your name?” Frank was impressed that he was even thinking about it.

  “Uh huh.” Frankie nodded. “Mommy taught me how to write my name,” he said proudly, and then proceeded to spell it out. “F-r-a-n-k-i-e.”

  Frank looked at Roxanne. At that moment, he felt admiration for her, but he couldn’t allow it to last.

  In his eyes, what she’d done to him was inexcusable. Frank couldn’t let go of the fact that Roxanne had not only hidden their son from him, but she’d also let another man publicly claim to be his father. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get past that. Still, he was thankful she’d been a good mother to his son.

  But no amount of good parenting would change his mind. He could’ve been a decent father, if she’d given him a chance.

  Frank and Roxanne slipped quietly into Candy’s room and found Rich slumped over her bed.

  “Rich…” Roxanne shook him gently. “Rich, wake up.”

  “Huh?” He sprang up and looked around.

  “You okay?” Frank asked.

  “Yeah,” Rich rubbed his eyes with one hand. “She…ah…she woke up briefly last night.”

  “She talked to you?” Roxanne asked, anxious.

  “Yes, she knew I was here,” he said. “But she didn’t really grasp the fact that she’s in the hospital.”

  “But she was talking to you, and that’s good.” Roxanne’s gaze traveled from Rich to Frank. “Right?”

  “Candy’s going to be fine,” Frank said. “She’s the only person in this world who thinks they can go a couple of rounds with me.” His laughter spilled through the air. “Anybody who’s got that much balls won’t let a little thing like a car wreck get them down.”

  “Frank Garrett…” Candy muttered. “I’m going to kick your ass.”

  “Candy…stay with me.” Rich latched onto her hand. “Okay, baby?”

  “Okay.” Her voice was soft and tired. “Where’s Rocky?”

  “I’m here,” Roxanne said. “We’re all here.”

  “What happened?” Candy asked. “Why are my
eyes covered?”

  “You were in an accident yesterday.” Rich’s words were tainted with guilt. “After you left my place.”

  Vaguely, Candy recalled how upset she’d been after leaving his place. “Did I hurt anybody?”

  “Just you,” he said. “Yours was the only car involved.”

  “Rich has been here all night,” Roxanne said. “He hasn’t left your side for a minute.”

  “Then he must be tired,” Candy said. “And really hungry.”

  “I’m fine,” his voice broke, like he was near tears. “What’s important now…is you.”

  Candy moaned. “I’ve got such a headache.” She paused. Thinking took effort. “You should probably eat something,” she said to Rich and then stopped again. Breathing hurt. “Rocky...would you take Rich and feed him?”

  “We don’t want to leave you alone right now,” Roxanne objected.

  “I won’t be alone.” Candy thought the clouds might be clearing. “Frank’ll stay here with me…won’t you, Frankie?”

  “Of course I will,” Frank said.

  Roxanne looked at Frank and gave him one of those what-do-I-do looks.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’ll be here with her. Just do what she wants.”

  Rich and Roxanne left the room, practically at a snail’s pace, and Frank sat down in the chair beside Candy’s bed. “I’m very sorry that this happened to you.”

  “How is Frankie doing?”

  “He’s fine. He misses you.”

  “Tell him…I’ll be home soon.”

  “He’s anxiously awaiting your homecoming.” Frank leaned back in the chair and folded his arms over his chest.

  “How is Rocky doing?” Candy asked. “I mean really.”

  “I don’t want you to worry about Roxanne. I’m taking good care of her.”

  “She needs you, you know.”

  “You think?” He tried to tamp down the skepticism invading his tone.

  “You have no idea,” Candy said with a hopeless laugh.

  “We don’t want you worrying about such things. You just concentrate on getting better.”

  “Yeah, Yeah.” She tried to laugh it off. If she couldn’t pin Frank down to any specifics right now, she never would. “Frank…am I going to be okay?”

  “Candy, you’re gonna be fine.”

  “My face…” She hesitated. Did she want to hear the truth? Depends on the answer. Not knowing had its bad points. Like being left in limbo. “Is my face disfigured?”

  He was silent for a few seconds and that bothered her. “Well…” he said, “I haven’t seen your face behind those bandages.” Skillfully, he tap danced around it. “They did say you have some facial lacerations.” His words were like swords’ points. “But you’re going to be good as new in no time. So don’t you worry.” He sounded confident, but she couldn’t be sure who, exactly, he was trying to convince—himself or her.

  Facial lacerations. Nasty, ugly images slipped into Candy’s mind. Oh, God. How badly was she disfigured?

  “Candy…I assume you wanted me to stay because you knew I’d tell you the truth?” His words said it was a question, but his tone suggested otherwise.

  At any rate, it yanked her back to reality. “That is true.”

  “Then don’t do this to yourself.” His voice turned hard. “You don’t know the extent of the damage. It may amount to nothing really.”

  “And it may not.”

  “Well then…your face can be restored.” He laid it on the line. “But that punctured lung could have easily killed you. And neither your sister nor my best friend could’ve handled that.”

  Candy didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to think. Was she not allowed a little self-pity here? After all, she was an actress with a disfigured face. He, of all people, should understand. Singing was what he did, just like acting was what she did. If he lost his voice—just like she’d lost her looks—then where would that leave him?

  Still, getting down in the gutter with her misery—prematurely—wasn’t productive. Frank was right. Why go there before she had all the facts? After another moment’s pause, she said out loud, “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said. “Although, I’m not sure for what.”

  “You told me the truth. And you wouldn’t let me lay here feeling sorry for myself.”

  That evening it took outstanding persuasion from Candy before Roxanne would consider the idea of going home.

  “If you don’t go home…” Candy prepared to pull out the big guns. “Frankie is going to start thinking something is terribly wrong with his Aunt Candy…and we don’t want that, now do we?”

  Roxanne couldn’t argue with that one, so without further argument she left the hospital with Frank.

  Sending Roxanne home with Frank wasn’t the best of ideas, but there wasn’t much Candy could do about it right now. She had her own point of issue with Rich.

  Of course, Rich was now saying that he’d accepted what he was feeling for Candy—that he loved her and he always had. Nothing like a trauma to make you see the light.

  But Candy knew better. Clearly, Rich was feeling nothing more than a case of pity. And the last thing she wanted from anyone was pity. She tried to tell him not to worry. That she understood. He didn’t love her anymore. And that was okay. But he wasn’t listening.

  Instead, he was vowing to take care of her. Why couldn’t he understand? Candy wanted him to love her. She didn’t want to be his charity case.

  ***

  Chapter 18

  With Frankie tucked safely into bed, Frank and Roxanne settled onto the couch to watch some television.

  “I know you’re more worried about Candy than you’re letting on,” he said.

  “I would think that’s understandable.”

  “It is. But I’m here for you. You can lean on me if you need to.”

  “Frankie…I couldn’t get through this without you. I’m not denying that.” She shook her head. “But I have to deal with what’s happened to Candy the best way I know how.”

  Frank was expecting Roxanne to cling to him, which is what she would have done in the past. And while she may need him to be there with her, she was no longer that girl from such a long time ago. These days, she dealt with her problems silently. It didn’t do her any good to talk about the things that bothered her because no one ever understood why she felt the way she did.

  The doorbell rang.

  “Are you expecting someone?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “I’ll get it.” He jumped up and disappeared around the corner. Soon, he returned with a florist’s box. “Looks like somebody sent you some flowers.” He presented the box to her with a smile.

  She was slow to take it, considering the implication. Could these possibly be from Frank? Why would he send her flowers? She looked at him, her attention drawn instantly to his sunglasses. She wished she could see into his eyes. Why won’t you take those things off?

  Roxanne took the card off the box and read it quietly to herself.

  Dear Roxie:

  The roses are an effort to assure you that we can work this out if we try. And please believe me when I say that I’m more than willing to try.

  I’ll love you forever,

  Frank.

  Roxanne hesitated, waiting for the catch. Removing the lid released the wonderful aroma of a dozen pale-orange roses; in their midst lay a single yellow rose. She knew why it was there. He wanted her to remember. She just wasn’t sure why.

  Those words he’d written on the card…I’ll love you forever. How could that possibly be after what she’d done to him?

  Roxanne’s gaze traveled back to Frank again. She wanted to believe it. “Thank you,” she said with cynical hope.

  Sometime later, after Frank had put Roxanne to bed, he patted himself on the back, convinced that he could have her any time he wanted. Hell, he could have her right now.

  She may not be ready to admit it, but tha
t’s what she wanted. Still, you can’t always get what you want. This would be no exception for Roxanne. Frank knew what she wanted, and he had no intention of giving it to her. At least not right now. Good things come to those who wait, or maybe it was deserved things. Either way, she’d like what she got, when she finally did get it. And she’d be quite deserving of it too.

  Frank told himself he wouldn’t sleep with her because it was part of his plan. Certainly not because he didn’t want to take advantage of her in her vulnerable state. Well, that’s what he tried to tell himself.