“Yes, it is. It’s one of my Mom’s words. It’s a blend of delicious and scrumptious. And it is the highest compliment a chef can receive.”
I open the oven and see that there are two perfect overstuffed pot pies happily baking their hearts out in my mother’s rarely used oven.
“Are you kidding me? Pot pies? You made them from scratch?” I am amazed. He nods. “Sounds to me I’m on my way to winning this challenge.”
“Well, I’ll give you points for yummy smells, but as they say, the proof is in the pudding. I reserve my right to withhold judgment until we eat. One thing I will concede, pot pies are my very favorite. But up until now I thought they only come frozen.”
He pours himself another glass of wine and I shake my head when he goes to fill my empty glass. “Let’s hope they’re delumptious then.” He removes his apron and asks, “While the pies are in the oven, Lil, can I get cleaned up?”
“Oh, of course you can. Just go up the stairs, take a left, and the first bedroom on the left is yours. The bathroom’s right off of it.” After he heads upstairs, I walk back into the living room and stretch out cat-style on the couch. I listen to the rain on the roof and am mesmerized by the fire dancing in front of me.
It really is pretty amazing how a person has the ability to compartmentalize her emotions. When I left the hospital, I felt dejected, grumpy, and tired. And now, after just a few hours, a long soak in the bath, and the promise of a hearty meal, I am relaxed.
I can’t believe Robbie actually made pot pies. He seems like one of the good ones. Now he is someone Mom would pick for me.
She would say, “Lily of the Valley, he’s handsome, he has manners, he loves his mother, he’s a doctor, and he is not an actor!” And I probably would totally avoid him. If it is someone my mother wants me to be with, unfortunately that is the kiss of death for that guy. I wouldn’t give him a second glance. Jamie fit right into my picture of terrific. Cute, hot body, and my mother absolutely did not like him from the minute they met.
Mom was living back East, taking care of Grams at the farmhouse. I’d met Jamie on set, maybe a few months before. The relationship was hot and heavy. He wasn’t living with me at the Malibu house yet, but he was spending a lot of time there.
Mom and I hadn’t seen each other for three months, which was like a lifetime for us, since we’ve always been practically attached at the hip. She decided it would be the coolest thing ever if she came out for a surprise visit.
It was during the week. I was on set, and Jamie, an unemployed actor at the time, was hanging out at the house, waiting for me to come home. Mom went into the house and brought her suitcases up to the master bedroom. There was Jamie sprawled across the bed, buck-naked. She screamed.
Later on, when she calmed down—and trust me, it was much later on—she told me she’d never seen anyone jump so high while lying down. She said it looked as if he were being forcibly levitated.
I must have laughed out loud, because Robbie, who is halfway down the staircase, says, “Hey, what’s so funny? Feel like sharing it with the rest of the class?”
I jump to my feet. “It’s nothing, just a funny story my Mom once told me. Hey, I’m starving. Is it chow time yet?”
We eat together, and Robbie is right; the meal is terrific. I concede that he is indeed the challenge winner. I laugh when he performs his best Rocky post-knockout victory dance around the kitchen. He deserves it.
The final crusty crumb is devoured and Robbie suggests we sit in front of the fire, he on the couch, and me on the overstuffed chair and a half. I wrap my Mom’s afghan tightly around me, the one Granny made years ago. I ask him when he will be leaving to join Doctors Without Borders, and if he would mind telling me exactly what the organization is.
“It’s an international medical humanitarian organization that was started in the early 1970s by doctors and journalists.” He leans toward me. His eyes light up and it’s crystal clear just how passionate he is about the subject.
“It provides independent, impartial assistance in more than sixty or so countries to people whose survival is threatened. They have to be impartial while they provide first-rate medical care. But, Lily, while the care they give is important, they must also bear impartial witness to atrocities that are going on in these third-world countries—atrocities that may never fully be recognized. You can’t imagine what’s going on there. You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve seen.” He shakes his head and closes his eyes briefly, as if to block out something terrible.
He drinks his wine and continues. “They’re not supposed to get involved, ever, but while giving medical care to the people of Rwanda, the group was able to call for an international military response to the genocide they were witnessing. And in 2004 and 2005, they called on the United Nations Security Council to pay greater attention to the crises in Darfur.” He sat back and crossed his legs. “You can’t imagine what an incredible honor it is to work with this organization.”
“It sounds amazing, Robbie. To know that you’re making a difference in so many lives, it must feel so rewarding.”
“Well, I know it makes a difference in my life, Lil,” he says softly.
“So when do you leave and where will you go?” I ask, trying to ignore the fast-growing lump in my throat.
“That depends; I’m supposed to leave in a couple of weeks. I know I’ll be going to Africa. Not exactly sure what part they’ll send me to. Wherever I’m needed most, I imagine. I’ll be gone for almost nine months this time.”
The lump is now the size of a boulder, and I swallow hard, really hard.
He smiles and says, “Anyway, enough about me. Tell me about your acting. Mom’s a huge fan of St. Joe’s. I’ve never seen it, but she says you’re a big star.”
“Oh no you don’t,” I protest. “You really expect me to talk about my unimportant role on a silly television series, after hearing about all your life-saving work in third-world countries? I think not, Dr. Rosen.”
“You know, Lily, you also provide an important service. People, especially with this downturn in the economy, need a diversion, something entertaining to keep their minds off their troubles.”
“As kind as that sounds, I don’t believe you for a minute. But you’re sweet to say so.” I stand up and kiss him on the cheek. “Thanks for dinner and for staying with me, but it’s getting late and I’m exhausted. Do you need anything—an extra blanket, towels…anything?
“No, you go on to bed; I’m going to clean up the dishes. By that time the fire will be out. Have a good sleep, Lil. I enjoyed our night together.”
“Wow, a man as handsome, smart, and good as you, who also shops, cooks and does the dishes. You’re going to make some lucky girl a very happy wife one day.” He looks up quickly, and an odd expression crosses his face. Before I have a chance to say anything, the phone rings. I recognized the number as the hospital switchboard. I stare at the phone for a second, afraid to pick it up. Afraid of what I’ll hear on the other end.
“Hello?” I answer, hesitantly.
“Miss Lockwood, it’s Lydia, your mother’s nurse.” Without realizing it, I grab Robbie’s hand for support and squeeze tight.
“I’m just calling to check in. I want to tell you, there are some substantial changes. Her breathing is considerably more shallow and faster than it was this afternoon.”
“Shallow and faster—what does that mean, exactly? What should I do? Should I come back to the hospital? I want to be with her when…”
“Please stay home. Get your rest. We still have time. Tomorrow, I am sure, is going to be a trying day for you. I will certainly call you if anything changes.”
I thank her, release my death grip on Robbie’s hand, and hang up.
I relay the message, and Robbie looks genuinely pained. “I’m here for you, Lil, whatever you need.”
My feet feel like lead. It’s a struggle to lift them up the stairs. When I get to the second step, I remember the real-life vision with my Mom that
I’d recently had. I turn and ask, “What day is it tomorrow?”
“Wednesday,” he replies. I walk up the steps with a better understanding of what the nurse is trying to tell me. I fall into bed. My heart is racing and I know, even though I am dead tired, that I will have a hard time sleeping.
Everything feels like it’s moving in warp speed and I can’t slow it down. What am I going to do without my mother? How can I live in a world without Daisy? A surge of grief and loss, like a huge wave, overtakes me and I am swept away. I feel helpless and am drowning in sadness.
I feel an emptiness, an actual physical emptiness—a tremendous void that I have never experienced before. For the first time in my life, I am truly alone. All I can do is lie on my stomach, bury my face deep in mother’s pillow, and sob.
There is a knock at the bedroom door.
“Lily, are you all right?” Robbie sounds worried. “Can I come in?”
I’m in a full-blown ugly cry and can’t stop my tears or nose from flowing. In between sobs and gasps, I hiccup uncontrollably.
The door slowly creeks open and I hear Robbie’s footsteps as he walks over to the bed. I turn over and sit up. He hugs me, and the floodgates opened even wider.
I weep while he rocks me. I can’t control myself. I don’t even try. Finally the tears slow down and then dry up.
He looks worried. I wipe my face and say, “Robbie, I wish you had known my mother, how wonderful she was and how she sacrificed so much for me.”
“I’m not going anywhere. If you want, I’d like to hear about her.” He gets me a glass of water and I tell him everything. I tell him about the diary I found, and about how I was able to get a really clear picture of the hardship she suffered as a child. How she’d met and lost her true love, David’s father. How she raised me as a single mother; what a crazy and funny woman she was, and how much I admire and love her.
He listens to it all. At times I see tears in his eyes, and more than once he laughs hard when I tell him about my mother’s antics and adventures. He asks a few questions, but mostly listens. He lets me speak until I am depleted. There’s nothing left to say and I am an emotional rag doll.
Incredibly, I feel better, lighter, than I have in days.
“You could fill a book on what you know about your mother, Lil. And can’t you see that all those wonderful memories and stories will keep her alive forever?”
I am drained, but that empty void feeling has diminished.
“Will you stay and sleep next to me?” I ask him.
“Of course I will. Just lie down and relax.” He plumps my pillow and pulls the covers over me, takes off his shoes, and is careful to lie on top of the covers, next to me. He strokes my hair and tells me that he’s there for me and he isn’t going to leave, not as long as I need him. I fall into a deep sleep.
Sometime in the middle of the night, I turn to him and lay my head on his chest. While I was asleep, he took off his shirt and got under the covers.
His breathing is even and I know he’s in a deep sleep. I feel him stir, and with his eyes still closed, he tenderly strokes my hair. Without a word, he kisses the top of my head. My heart is beating so hard and fast that I think it very well may catapult out of my body.
Taking a deep breath to quiet my nerves, I stroke and kiss his chest.
We are both fully awake by this time, but neither one of us utters a word. We don’t have to. It is clear what is happening; words would shatter the almost mystical feeling that is building in that moment.
Robbie kisses me and pulls me on top of him.
He takes his time; his lips are soft, and his kisses start out tentative, but become deep and passionate. His capable hands find their way under my nightgown and he gently lifts it over my head and tosses it aside. His mouth never leaves mine as he caresses my neck and back. His hands skillfully travel down my body and rest on my bottom. He squeezes and pulls me in to him. My body immediately responds. With ease, he gently lifts and turns me so that he is on top. He tantalizes my breasts with his mouth, flicking his tongue over and around my nipples. I am on fire; I arch my back, wrap my legs tightly around him and draw him into me. He pulls back, looks into my eyes; he smiles at me and slows way down. He lifts his hips away from me and when he moves back, his body just barely touches mine. He teases me, plays with me, almost entering, then pulls away. He does this over and over again, until I am in a red-hot frenzy and can’t take anymore. All the anger, sorrow, and frustration that I’ve been feeling the last week fuels me; I finally pull him into me hard. The moan that escapes from me is a sound I have never heard myself make before, almost as if it comes from the very depths of my soul.
We have no names, no thoughts, no words, no agendas; we are just hands, tongues, and slippery bodies crashing together in burning waves of yearning and desire. At this moment in time, nothing else matters.
I jump when the alarm rings at seven a.m. I keep my eyes closed, just for a few seconds, and replay the lovemaking from the night before and smile. Then, I remember the phone conversation I had with my mother’s nurse the night before. It’s going to be a rough day, and I’m anxious to be with my mother.
I roll over and see that I am alone in bed. I get up, put on my robe, and tiptoe into the bathroom to see if Robbie is there. He isn’t, so I walk to the other bedroom to see if he’s in there getting dressed. The bed is made and there is no sign that he had ever even been there. I go to the top landing and call his name. No answer. I look out the window. His car is gone. He actually left without saying goodbye. Not even a polite thank you. Just split, like that. What an ass! I feel like a jerk.
I can’t believe how dumb I am, thinking he’s different than most guys. How could I have slept with him like that? I leap back into my mother’s bed, pull the blanket over my head, and shout, “Stupid, stupid, stupid!”
What the hell was I thinking, going to bed with him? What an idiot! My mother is dying. This may be her last day on Earth. Who does something like that? “Stupid, stupid stupid.” I shout even louder.
“Having a bad morning already?”
I throw off the blanket. Robbie is at the bedroom door holding a cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee in his hand.
I am mortified. “I thought you left without saying goodbye.”
He walks over to the bed, hands me a cup of coffee, and says, “I wouldn’t do that. I was serious when I told you I’ll be around as long as you need me. I’m not planning to go anywhere right now.” He smiles, “Except to pick you up a cup of coffee. The donuts are on the table.”
He sits on the bed next to me. “Last night was amazing, Lily; the dinner, talking by the fireplace, being with you—everything. I want you to know that I think you’re terrific.”
I realize I am actually holding my breath. I let out an audible sigh of relief. “I feel the same way, Robbie.”
“I called my hospital and explained the situation here, with David and your Mom. I told them I wanted the leave of absence that’s scheduled to start in a couple of weeks to start earlier, so I could be with you through…all this. If you want me, I mean.”
I jump up and hug him. “Of course I want you here. Thank you, thank you so much, Robbie.”
He kisses me, and again I feel that jolt of pure electricity zigzag through my body.
“I’ll drop you off at the hospital so you can be with your mother. I’ll pick up some clothes and meet you back there. Sound good?”
I nod. “Robbie, could you maybe pack a big bag with enough clothes so you can stay a while?”
“Sure will.”
I get into the hot shower and let the spray cover my body. I place both my hands on my stomach, knowing it won’t stay this flat for too long. How can I do this? Should I tell him? How should I tell him? What will he think of me? It’s easier not to think about it. Best to deal with it later on. Robbie will be leaving in a few weeks anyway, and will be gone for nine months. The timing is perfect. I can imagine him, after saving lives in the bush for almost a year, c
oming straight from the airport to see me. I answer the door, wearing spit-up-stained clothes and pink curlers in my hair, holding my newborn baby who is screaming his lungs out. He’ll most likely turn right around, get into his car, go to the airport, and fly back to Africa, where it’s safer! I laugh out loud and let the water fall into my mouth. I spit it out. Yeah, best not to think too far into the future; best to just concentrate on being with my mother today.
Robbie walks with me into the hospital and goes with me to my mother’s room; I like that he is being protective. Jamie was my first real boyfriend, and he was anything but protective. When I was with him, I needed someone to protect me from him.
When we get into my Mom’s room, her breathing is more shallow and faster than the day before. And when she exhales, there is a rattling noise, sort of like the sound of two marbles being rubbed together.
“What is that sound? Should I get the nurse?” I ask.
Robbie walks over to my mother, touches her arm, and gently lifts her hand to look at her fingers and nails. I noticed they are tinted blue.
“It’s saliva that’s accumulating because she’s not swallowing. I’ll turn her head. That should help some.”
I am trembling. “Will it…will it be soon?” He nods and puts his arm around me. I put my head on his chest and cry. The nurse comes in and checks my mother’s blood pressure and pulse.
“If you need anything, Lily, I’ll be right outside at the station,” she says, patting my arm as she walks out.
“Lily, do you want me to sit with you for a little while? I don’t have to go right now—I can pick my things up later on.”
“Robbie, I think I want to be alone for a bit. Go, get your things and come back soon. David should be out of dialysis; I think he and I ought to be here together for a while. Don’t you?”
“Absolutely. I’ll be on my cell if you need me. I won’t be long.” He kisses me and leaves the room.
When we arrived at the hospital earlier, I told the guard at the reception desk downstairs that the only people allowed to visit are Auntie D., Tommy, Fernando, and Robbie. This is not the day for anyone outside of the family to be here.
The Seeds Of A Daisy: The Lily Lockwood Series: Book One (Women's Fiction) Page 24