by Mimi Barbour
In the talks he’d had with his brother over the last few days, he’d found it disconcerting listening to Rhett’s words while watching Carrie’s mouth form them. He sensed the two were in love and prayed they would have a happy ending. He wouldn’t let on to Carrie, but he was skeptical of their plans and very afraid for them.
When he caught Carrie softly giggling, her face filled with gently glowing adoration, he took solace. But as they got closer to their journey’s end, he noticed her expression mostly mirrored confusion, doubt and worry. They were about to face their future, and it didn’t look promising.
“Carrie, what is it? My brother seems to have made himself scarce these last few hours. Now you look upset.”
“He has. He won’t respond to me at all. He’s doing his disappearing act. I’ve tried to reason with him, but he refuses to discuss it any longer. It’s terribly difficult for someone like him to be confined as he has been. He’s a born boss, a master at managing people and used to being in control. He’s had to either coach me or step in for me many times. I’m rather a pale individual. I tend to just take people and situations as they are and deal with them. Your brother, on the other hand, adjusts events and people, forcing things to suit him. As you say, it’s been rather trying, but a giant lesson for me.”
“Are you sorry it happened?”
“Not for one split second. I love him.” She said the words simply, without flowery speeches, and believability rang in her voice.
“I’m glad. You know, Rhett’s always gotten the short end of the stick. Mother and Scarlett treated him abysmally, as we were growing up, and they still try it on, only he doesn’t put up with it anymore. Father just ignored everyone, so he was no help. Everything Rhett has accomplished happened because of his own grit and determination. He went to Vietnam as an enlisted man and soon earned his stripes and the Bronze Medal for bravery and the Silver Star for saving four men’s lives.”
“He never told me about being in the war.”
“He wouldn’t. He doesn’t talk about it much. He came back and finished his master’s degree in business management, and then he travelled, searching for his permanent place, a settling place. One day, he stopped in Las Vegas and never left. Building the casino, earning the respect of some pretty powerful characters, fulfilled him. He’s the closest to ‘happy’ I’ve ever known him to be.”
Carrie nodded. “He does love Vegas. He’s told me that when he stopped there he felt he’d come home. He originally planned on staying only a couple of nights. But the casinos called to something inside him. There was adventure and business all rolled up in a challenge, he said. Perfect for him.”
“And for me,” Ashley responded. “Life was a lark—a big party, even with all the work, but now suddenly both our lives are a mess. When Father died, Rhett was forced to take his body to England because neither Mother nor Scarlett wanted to go. I said I’d do it, but he felt it was his place as the oldest. Then I got the call from England saying that he’d fallen ill. It seems as if the whole universe is working against us Parks boys. Like we aren’t allowed happiness or success. Does that sound hypersensitive to you?”
“Not at all, pet. Life has a way of throwing out odd twists and turns, but I believe there’s a reason for the things we go through.”
“Maybe you’re right. He got to meet you, didn’t he?” Ashley turned to stare out the plane’s window.
He remembered times, as a boy, when Rhett had suffered from their mother’s anger and meanness. She’d used him as her personal whipping post, many times literally, when he was small. Only once did the boy turn on her. It was the night she decided her own baby boy needed a shot of the same medicine. Rhett had reared up instantly, and his protection of Ashley taught her an unforgettable lesson: Use your fangs on me but leave my brother alone. It was never forgotten, and because of it Ashley had led a very sheltered life.
His love for Rhett was based on his early idealistic hero worship, but the young boy had grown into a fine man, a man who still felt the same adulation for his big brother and was ecstatic that Rhett now had Carrie to love him, also. Ashley made up his mind to do all in his power to support her and look after his brother, no matter what the day’s outcome. The young woman beside him was very easy to love and, pray God, would one day be a wonderful sister to him.
* * *
Carrie was happy to see that Dr. Andrews had remembered to arrange the ambulance to meet the plane, just as promised. After their long flight, she was anxious to see the doctor, whose confidence in his own abilities instilled her with tenacious hope. The kindly man inspired trust, and she’d placed all her faith in him, especially after their first meeting when he’d called on Rhett to speak. He’d somehow known what had happened in the rose garden, and that went a long way in her mind to gift him with the powers of a magician.
Rhett’s massive sigh of relief as Carrie said goodbye to the disappointed nurse stimulated a smile, which had her covering her mouth and lowering her eyes. The lovesick girl had drawn his coat tighter around his neck and let her hand linger as she checked his vitals for the last time.
“Carrie, I’m warning you…”
“Thank you, nurse. Mr. Parks and I appreciate all your kindness and attention to details. We wish you a comfortable journey home.”
“Attention to details, my ass!”
“He’s a very handsome man, Miss Temple. It was a pleasure taking care of him.”
“Yes he is that, nurse. Very handsome, indeed!”
“Silly woman!”
* * *
From the airport they went directly to Dr. Andrews’ house. He wanted to review the medical reports for Rhett and to know whether anything had occurred in the States that he should be aware of. A physical examination of Rhett followed to determine whether the trip had overly tired him.
A waiting pot of strong tea, prepared to revive Carrie, was greatly appreciated; while the stiff whiskey Ashley gulped helped put him to rights.
Finally zero hour came. They strapped Rhett into the wheelchair and trundled off to the bench, framed by the glorious rose bushes, in front of the vicarage. Two hearts pulsated with nervous hopefulness. One scared soul, his heart locked in a sleeping body, prayed. Only the doctor felt calm and full of anticipation.
As they’d previously discussed, Rhett was positioned on the wooden bench first. Ashley handed a scented white rose clipping to Dr. Andrews, who very carefully pricked Rhett’s finger and passed the same rose to Carrie to use on herself. She sat down next to Rhett, feeling a slight queasiness.
“Rhett, I need you. Talk to me.”
She heard him whisper loud and clear, “Please, Lord…”
Chapter Eleven
Nothing happened.
Absolutely nothing.
They waited a few moments and then repeated the same ritual.
Again nothing happened.
“Carrie, I told you, this doctor is a quack.” Ashley was incensed as he bent to whisper in her ear. He then stomped back and forth, his hands flailing around his head as if he swatted at attacking flies.
Carrie was devastated.
Rhett was gone—again.
“Doctor, you promised it would work. You said you knew the answer—to redo what we’d done originally—and it was all gibberish. You lied.”
“No my dear. I didn’t lie. Carrie, think! It made sense to you at the time, when I explained about my friend Lucy McGilicuddy. It’s happened before. There’s a power or magic connected to that blasted rosebush. I’m sure of it. Otherwise…”
“Otherwise what?”
“Otherwise, how do you explain Rhett existing inside of you?”
“I can’t. It’s unexplainable.” Tears gushed and her limbs started shaking. Her hands covered her mouth, damming back the moans of pain she couldn’t seem to stop.
“We must return to the house. I have to review my notes.” The group was somber on the return trip. Hopefulness had crumpled into hopelessness.
Back in the doctor’s offic
e, Dr. Andrews stood pale and shaken. He twisted his neck right and left and then in a small circle to eliminate some of the strain, stopping with his head bent as his brow furrowed before he began pacing back and forth, deep in thought, muttering under his breath.
Ashley sat in a corner chair with his face in his hands, not moving.
Carrie wept softly, sitting next to the wheelchair. She held the hand of the man who hadn’t made a move except to breathe. He seemed paler and looked less robust, as if the body sensed the unhappiness of its missing soul.
It was the worst night of their lives. Supper, prepared by Dr. Andrews’ housekeeper, was left to congeal on all three plates. The nurse Dr. Andrews was forced to hire arrived from the hospital and on the doctor’s orders set up a temporary intravenous drip and efficiently put Rhett to bed. Before leaving, she promised to return first thing in the morning to look after Mr. Parks until other arrangements could be made.
Carrie and Ashley were both assigned rooms, and everyone chose to have an early night.
At midnight Rhett’s message erupted in Carrie’s head and woke her from a troubled sleep. She sprang up from her mangled bed and, like a wild woman, roared down the hallway, pounding on everyone’s door, screeching indiscriminately. “Get up. We’ve got it. Get up! Hurry! Please!”
She gave the doctor’s door an extra wallop. Dancing around, she clapped her hands with glee. She wiggled and jiggled like a child who’d just opened a very special, begged-for Christmas present. “We’ve got it,” she repeated over and over.
“What is it, Carrie? What’s happened?” The doctor had sleep lines across one cheek and looked worn out; as if he’d only dropped off in the last little while. His robe, only half on because one sleeve was turned inside out, dragged on the floor while his hand reached backwards, searching in vain.
“Don’t keep us in suspense,” begged Ashley, who’d just appeared but became instantly caught up in her excitement. “Tell us!”
“Rhett figured it out. It’s the rose. See, the first time, we pricked ourselves with the same rose.”
“But that was what we did today. We used the exact same rose. I was very careful about that.” Doctor Andrew’s crestfallen face mirrored his disappointment.
“Yes, but remember, on that first occasion, I pricked my finger first.”
“By God, you’re right. That’s it! He’s a bloody genius. I can’t imagine why I didn’t pick up on that myself.”
The doctor wrapped his burly arms around Carrie and danced her up the hallway. Ashley twirled and yelled with a horrible racket. Happiness surged between the three crazy fools.
Finally, after calm returned, they made their way into the kitchen for cups of hot chocolate and indulged in the earlier-rejected warm apple crumble smothered with vanilla ice cream.
“So, Rhett, it was you who figured it out.” Ashley’s face lit up with pride. “And you really believe it’ll work tomorrow when we try it?”
“Hey, little brother, have faith. If it could happen once, then it’ll happen again.” Relief was evident in his word choice, in the inflection of his voice, and in the fact that he’d even spoken at all.
Later that night, after the festivities had died down and the house was quiet again, Rhett opened himself to Carrie. His lovemaking was so beautiful that every nerve end in her tingled. The vibrations persisted, building while her body heaved in time. The blast of intense, enjoyable clenching seemed to go on forever. At last the rolling peaks of pleasure waned, but the twitches of ecstasy wouldn’t stop. She was drenched both with sweat and love juices and a sensation of swelling, an indication she’d been loved well.
“Rhett, that was wonderful, almost spiritual. I’m so in love with you. I’m happier now than I’ve ever been.”
“Soon, when I can hold you in my arms, I’ll be as happy as you.”
Carrie sighed. “Touching and being touched will be so different. I’ll be able to pleasure you in return. Now, it seems such a selfish interaction between us. I’m in heaven and you’re left behind.”
“Not true, Sweetheart. It’s as wonderful for me and a lot less exhausting. But you need your beauty rest; we have a busy day tomorrow. We actually get to meet in person for the first time.”
“I hope you like me.”
Whispered words resounded behind her closed eyes.
“I love you.”
Chapter Twelve
The next morning, three happy people pushed a silent figure down the street in his wheelchair. To be absolutely certain there wouldn’t be any hitches; they’d waited until the precise time of the original incident to repeat it.
They set up the scene, and this time Carrie pricked her finger first, then passed the same rose to the doctor, who pricked Rhett’s finger. They sat in the exact places as previously.
She felt a faint movement in the body balanced next to hers, and she held her breath. All three watched closely as the inert body returned to the land of the living. First Rhett’s eyes opened slowly, fluttered closed, then popped open again. Next he tried lifting his head. Within scant seconds it flopped down again, with his chin resting on his chest.
“Don’t rush things, Rhett. Go slow. Take your time.” The doctor was on his knees in front of the semiconscious man.
Next to the doctor, Ashley was on his knees also, his eyes popping in near disbelief at what was happening. Joyful tears gushed unrestrained as he expressed his stunned amazement at the phenomenon he’d just witnessed. His head bobbed up and down and he chattered encouragement.
“Absolutely fantastic! You can do it, Rhett. Come back to us. You can do it.”
Carrie sat quietly beside her lover, whispering prayers of thankfulness. Within a short span of time, maybe one minute, maybe five, Rhett turned to her. She finally got to look into his sleepy blue portals, where she saw love flaming in their depths.
“Hello, Sweetheart,” he croaked. His rusty voice was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard.
“You’re back. I’m so glad.” Her happy tears flowed, while embarrassed tears still lurked in Ashley’s eyes, and happy relief showed all over Doctor Andrews’ face. Rhett’s visage was lit with pure joy.
All Carrie’s secret fears disappeared. Rhett was back. He remembered her and their feelings for one another and what they’d shared. She’d known for certain he remembered, as soon as he looked her way and spoke. Her inside emptiness seemed a small price to pay for the happiness embellishing the face of the re-emerging person. The transformation was a success. Her lover was once more his own man.
It would take days for Rhett’s physical weakness to dissipate completely. Thankfully, he’d had the best of care and was still quite strong, but the travelling had taken its toll.
Later that day, Carrie explained to Rhett that she needed to return home. He was very weak and couldn’t talk easily, but he groaned with frustration.
“Darling, I must check up on the Poppets, and I do have to return to work. You’re in very capable hands with Ashley and Dr. Andrews looking after you. Besides, it’ll give you time to be sure of your sentiments about us. I know how you felt before, but things could be different for you now, and you need to reconsider your choices.”
* * *
She needn’t have worried about the old dears, as they were in good form and more content with each other than she could ever remember. Gran’s smiling face and her granddad’s unusual, good-natured grins told her that the change they’d instigated the week before had continued. They were happy to see their girl home safe and sound, although she knew they were concerned about her paleness and preoccupation.
She had no contact with Rhett, as he couldn’t call, but she had expected that. Because everything had happened so quickly, she knew a cooling-off period wouldn’t hurt, especially for him. After all, he’d been imprisoned inside her through no fault of his own. Just maybe he’d reacted to her with love because he’d had to be so dependent on her. She felt it only fair to give him a bit of breathing room so he could make
the choice—did he really want her?
Carrie resumed her place in her classroom the next day, and the time crept slowly. Her second day back at work, she found Robert sitting at his desk with the happiest expression she’d ever witnessed on his gaunt face. Once the class settled down, she called him to the front.
“Hello, Miss. It’s right glad I am ter see ya.”
“Thank you, dear. I’m happy to be back, and I must say how pleased I am that you’re here in school.”
“Not to worry, Miss. From now on I’ll be at me desk every day. Me da’s won a mittfull. A letter came by a special messenger, and there was a check in it from a bank overseas saying me da’s rich. A cousin he never even heard of went and left him a fortune, Miss. It’s that exciting, it is.”
His small hand found hers and they held onto each other, secreted from the others’ view by the huge, scarred, wooden desk.
Carrie sighed with pleasure. “What brilliant news! I’m happy for you and your family, Robert. Very happy indeed.”
“Do you believe in angels, Miss Temple? ‘Cause, ya know, I asked the angels to help us, and they’ve answered me.”
“Yes, Robert. I believe there are angels. In fact, I know one personally.”
Chapter Thirteen
Two long days alone in her body had been absolute hell. She missed Rhett’s essence, his voice, and the lovemaking—she missed the lovemaking most.
Robert was his answer, his special messenger. He would come. She knew it now, for sure. Anticipation built. Her eyes glowed, as did her skin, while happiness zinged around her like electricity from a live wire. Second and third glances followed her everywhere she went. She was not their old Carrie; there was a palpable difference.
That evening he appeared. The doorbell rang and her granddad answered. He looked up at the tall, handsome, well-dressed stranger. “You’ll be here to see Carrie, I’ll wager.”
The nervous man, clutching an armful of long-stemmed red roses enclosing a single white bloom in their midst, nodded. “You’d win,” he said. He stepped into the hall as the old man waved him in. He moved gracefully for his size. His suit, his grooming, his whole appearance shouted money and power.