Flowers from Iraq (The Storyteller and the Healer Book 1)

by Sunny Alexander

  “She loved Ferka, but the pull to return to her parents became stronger than her love. One night when Deborah’s daughter was five, in the deepest dark of night, she snuck off and hid in the forest. Lala and Ferka were very worried when they couldn’t find Deborah and Lyuba; had a wolf eaten them? Deborah could hear them searching for her, calling her name, but she stayed hidden until they left and traveled to another place.

  “It took several months for Deborah to find her way home. When her parents saw their daughter and granddaughter, their love was stronger than their anger and they forgave Deborah.

  “The gift of healing has been passed down through the generations, from female to female. When I am practicing tai chi or meditating, I am gathering the life force energy, and that is why my hands become warm. Today, I transferred the energy to you. This was the first time I tried to use this gift.”

  Kathleen snuggled closer. “Why was this the first time?”

  “Because my bubba told me that it is love as much as the energy that heals.”

  “That’s a wonderful story.” Kathleen had never felt quite so relaxed. “I guess it’s my turn to tell a story.”

  Claire snuggled up to Kathleen. “Are you getting shy?”

  Kathleen nodded. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

  “Let’s try it. Remember, you can always stop. When I asked for your bill, you charged me two dollars, and said that a long time ago someone had helped you out. Tell me a story about how someone helped you, and don’t forget, a story has to have a beginning, a middle, and an end.”

  Claire snuggled into Kathleen’s arms, just as Kathleen had done with Claire.

  Kathleen sighed with relief. She could tell that story. “Okay, beginning. I started UCLA when I was barely eighteen. It was the second quarter of my freshman year and I began to be flooded with new sexual feelings, anxious… tortured by them.

  “Gayle had finished her course work to become a psychoanalyst and placed an announcement for new patients in the campus newspaper. Her office was close by and I could walk there on my lunch break. I liked Gayle right away. There was something about her that made me feel safe. The subject of fees came up. I think she knew how broke I was and only charged me two dollars a session. That’s the beginning. Hmm, now for a middle.” As she was thinking she pulled Claire tightly against her.

  “I saw Gayle twice a week for almost two years. My appointments were during the lunch hour. Do you know what Gayle did?”

  “No,” Claire said softly.

  “She fed me twice a week for almost two years. She started by telling me that Robert always over-packed her lunches. She was afraid she would gain another twenty pounds unless I helped her. If we didn’t eat together, she would hand me a lunch bag as I left the office.” Kathleen wiped the tears that were streaming down her face, hoping Claire wouldn’t notice. “I didn’t always have enough food and there were days when Gayle kept me from being hungry. I’ve had so many people help me.”

  Kathleen stopped abruptly and whispered, “I don’t think I can go on. Have I let you down?”

  Claire reached up and touched her face. “I couldn’t be prouder. It was a wonderful story. Why don’t we end it with to be continued? Come, snuggle in my arms.”

  Kathleen rested her face next to Claire’s heart. “I hate to have the day end. Could you… would you stay the night with me?”

  Claire stroked Kathleen’s back. “I can’t think of a more wonderful way to end the evening.” Claire felt her chest become damp. “Are you crying?”

  Kathleen nodded. “It’s just, no one has ever stayed…”

  “No one?”

  Kathleen nodded.

  Claire held her tightly. “I’ll be here all night, every night, if you want. I should warn you, I talk in my sleep.”

  “That’s nothing. I have nightmares and cry in my sleep.”

  “If I’m sleep-talking, just tap me on the shoulder.”

  “If I’m crying, hold me.”

  “I knew we would be perfect for each other.”

  Kathleen woke up, startled. She was naked. She never slept naked. Where were her shorts? Where was her T-shirt? She felt confused and hung over. It was four in the morning. She had the oddest dream. She dreamed that she and Claire had made love in front of the fireplace, in the shower, and in bed. She heard soft breathing. She saw Claire sleeping next to her. It wasn’t a dream. She sank back into her pillow. Before she fell asleep she thought, oh, God. What have I done?

  When Kathleen woke again around six, Claire’s arms and legs were wrapped around her. Claire was talking in her sleep, “Hello, Bubba. Guess, what? I’m gay. I’m gay.” Kathleen thought, oh, my God; she really does talk in her sleep. Should I tap her on the shoulder? She stifled a giggle that wasn’t quite stifled enough. Claire cuddled even closer and mumbled in a half-asleep voice, “Can we do this again soon?”

  Kathleen held her close and wondered if soon would be soon enough.

  CHAPTER 28

  Kathleen couldn’t wait to get home from St. Mona’s. Claire had left a cryptic message on her cell phone, in a clipped, upper crust British accent that sounded exactly like her hero, Sherlock Holmes:

  “Precisely at seventeen-hundred hours, Dr. Moore, a package will be delivered to you at the hospital. Secrecy is of the upmost importance. Do not open until you are in the car. Contents are to be eaten on your way home. Dinner will be late, very late. When you approach the turnoff to Canfield, call me with your location and expected time of arrival.”

  It was so Claire!

  Kathleen’s heart was light and she laughed all the way to her car. She opened the package to find a small wicker basket filled with finger foods—assorted cheeses, crackers, grapes, dark chocolates—and a bottle of nonalcoholic red wine.

  The house was quiet when she arrived and there was no sign of Claire. Kathleen knocked on Claire’s door, looked in the kitchen, and finally gave up. She had called Claire’s cell phone as instructed and now felt disappointed. She sighed, thought she would take a shower, and hoped that Claire would show up, soon.

  “I thought you’d never find me,” said Claire, smiling as Kathleen opened the bathroom door.

  Soothing music filled the air as candles, placed around the room, danced in concert and cast their shadows against the walls. The tub was filled with warm water and sprinkled with floating gardenias and herbs, tied in white cloth packages.

  Kathleen stood immobile. Claire walked over and began to undress her. Kathleen moved closer, reaching for Claire.

  Claire lightly brushed her hand away. “Uh-uh. This is a sensuous, healing bath, just for you. Let me do everything.”

  “Sensuous?” Kathleen could barely get the word out.

  Claire took off her robe.

  Kathleen couldn’t hide her disappointment. “You’re wearing your bathing suit.”

  “That’s to make sure we keep this sensuous.”

  Claire slowly undressed Kathleen and helped her into the tub. She began to bathe her, using soft cloths filled with delicate oils. Claire lowered herself into the tub. “Rest your head against me and let your body go. I’ll do everything.” Claire washed Kathleen’s hair with shampoo that smelled of flowers after a spring rain. Kathleen could feel every part of her relaxing, letting go, traveling to places she had never been before.

  She must have fallen asleep. Claire was whispering, “It’s time to get out.”

  How long had they been in the tub? She felt spacey and needed Claire’s help to stand.

  Claire wrapped her in a thick white towel and led her to the bed. “Lie on your tummy.” Claire covered her with a light cotton blanket and warmed the cool body lotion between her hands. Kathleen tried to move; she wanted to reach for Claire, to make love to her, to have her enter the same space she was in.

  Claire purred, “Not yet, not yet.” She began to massage Kathleen with fingers as light as butterflies’ wings, but strong as the roots of oaks, starting at her neck and shoulders, following the l
ines of her body, downward. Kathleen felt the warmth of Claire’s hands transporting her to a new level of existence, one that made her forget every care. Kathleen was grabbing the sheet, making soft sounds, not from pain but from pleasure.

  Claire leaned over and whispered, “Move on your back.” Claire began to massage again, with the lightest of touches, tracing Kathleen’s face, moving to her shoulders, then her waist and hips, and finally reaching her legs. She moved slowly, until she held Kathleen’s delicate feet in her hands, applying lotion first to one, then the other, with extraordinary gentleness.

  Kathleen opened her eyes; a small smile played across her face. “How did you learn to do this?”

  “I’ll save that story for another time.” Claire took off her robe and, before seeking Kathleen’s lips said, “I’m in love with you, Kathleen.”

  CHAPTER 29

  Kathleen stretched her legs and felt Oscar lying on top of her feet, purring like a motorboat and twitching now and again from some secret feline dream. She thought about how the three of them had slept together for the past two months; Oscar sleeping contentedly on her feet and Claire cuddling next to her, sometimes reaching for her throughout the night or keeping her entertained with sleep talking. Kathleen had never slept so well.

  Ever the romantic, Claire showered her with little surprises: sometimes a small box tucked under her pillow with a single piece of chocolate wrapped in gold foil, or a light caress before they went downstairs for breakfast. She wanted to give Claire something special—a way to say I love you, I’m thinking about you—without having to try to get the words out.

  Kathleen remained amazed at the sound of Claire’s breathing, so gentle and soft; she slept like an innocent child drifting in white clouds of dreams. Claire reached over, burrowing her body next to Kathleen’s, while making small groaning sounds that told Kathleen she was waking up.

  Kathleen held her and hoped she would never get used to Claire lying next to her; she wanted each morning to feel like the first time. “Are you awake?”

  “Hmm-hmm… sort of.”

  “There’s something I want to show you.”

  “Is it something I’ve never seen before?”

  “Oh yes, but for this you have to put some clothes on.”

  Claire’s curiosity was now aroused and she sat up, with eyes half-opened. “Such as?”

  “Shorts, tee, and shoes will do.”

  “I have to go to the bathroom first.” Claire got out of bed, stretched, yawned loudly, and shuffled half asleep into the bathroom, shutting the door tightly behind her.

  Kathleen was learning about some of Claire’s ways. She didn’t understand why going to the bathroom was such a private ritual when sex was completely unrestrained. Well, I guess I could ponder that mystery of life all day. She grabbed her shorts and tee from yesterday and when Claire came out, ran in to brush her teeth.

  Claire asked, “Where are we going?”

  “Not far.” Kathleen held Claire’s hand and guided her into the hallway. She opened a narrow door with stairs leading upwards.

  Kathleen turned on a light switch. “Watch your step, there’s not much light.”

  As they climbed the stairs Claire said, “This is a real mystery. We could call it The Mystery of the Secret Passage. Did I ever tell you how much I love a mystery?”

  Kathleen laughed. “Only a thousand and one times.”

  When they reached the top of the stairs, beams of sunlight floated through the bank of oriel windows, illuminating a sprawling room cluttered with boxes and intriguing shapes hidden underneath yellowed sheets. Dust motes danced in the sunshine, which cheered the dim space; the air was stale and fusty, but not unpleasantly so—it promised adventure.

  Claire blinked at the change in lighting. “It’s the attic! Wow, the natural lighting is incredible up here.”

  Kathleen said nothing. She wanted Claire to see and discover for herself. She watched Claire’s eyes widen as she walked around the attic, removing old sheets that hid riches from a long ago era.

  Claire gasped. “Oh, my God, it’s antique heaven.”

  Kathleen laughed. “Not quite.”

  Claire moved from area to area, peering under sheets, looking inside boxes. She was a child at Christmas with too many presents. She discovered a fantastic rocking horse that must have given some Victorian-age boy or girl hours of pleasure, and she couldn’t help being reminded of one of her favorite short stories, “The Rocking Horse Winner.” A box contained crinoline skirts and that, looked positively barbaric to Claire.

  “I wouldn’t be caught dead in these,” she said. Her eyes fell on an odd-looking couch. “What’s this weird-looking thing?” she asked Kathleen.

  “It’s called a fainting couch, used by our Victorian sisters after they climbed the stairs and darn near fainted because of their corsets. It belongs on the landing, just in case one of us…”

  Claire flopped down and reached out her arms for Kathleen. “Oh, dear, I feel a faint coming on,” she said in a distressed maiden’s voice, clapping the back of her hand to her forehead.

  Chuckling, Kathleen sat next to Claire, lifting her up gently until their lips met. “Now I know why the Victorians invented these couches.”

  Claire relaxed against Kathleen. “Where did all of this cool swag come from?”

  “We discovered it during the house inspection. Robert brought his home inspector from Los Angeles. He called us up to the attic and said he was having trouble checking everything because of all the junk up here. He thought we might want to have it carted off.

  “Well, I thought Robert’s eyes were going to explode when he saw the so-called junk. He was very nonchalant in front of the inspector, but later on he took me aside and said, ‘Kathleen, someone has left you a real treasure. You’ll know when it’s the right time to use it.’”

  “Is this the right time?”

  “It’s perfect. I must have been waiting for you.”

  Claire put her arms around Kathleen. “Thanks for waiting.”

  Kathleen held Claire close, wanting to stay in the moment. She could feel Claire pulling away, releasing her.

  Claire said, “Can I stay here? I want to investigate everything.”

  “Of course, my darling Sherlock. You’ll find a million mysteries to solve. I’ll bring breakfast to you. I have a feeling I’ve lost you for the day.”

  Kathleen felt a newfound lightness in her heart as she went downstairs. She said a little prayer of thanks to the Someone who left the treasures and sent her Claire.

  Kathleen hired two odd jobbers to move the furniture from the attic to the empty garage for easier access. Claire brought Helen and Sam to see the furniture and while Helen was almost as excited as Claire, Sam was wondering how he was going to get drafted into this Mansion Makeover.

  Kathleen never saw anyone work so hard or be so excited. Claire started with the wicker furniture. It would be perfect for the solarium. She discovered a roll of chintz fabric and had paint mixed to match one of the fabric’s colors. Helen hand-washed and ironed the delicate material, and sewed new cushions. They were paying exquisite attention to every detail.

  After work Claire would rush over to the garage. She worked steadily into the night, cleaning and repairing. By the time she came to bed she was exhausted and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  The night began to fade, replaced by streaks of morning light, when Kathleen woke to find Claire’s side of the bed empty. She glanced at the clock and became gripped with terror. She hurried toward the open garage door. Claire was on the fainting couch, snoring softly, a stiff, dry paintbrush gripped in her hand.

  Kathleen flashed back to her first day at the CSH in Iraq. She and Sam arrived shortly after the wounded from a supply convoy were brought to the ER. Later that night, she stayed in the ICU, holding the hand of a dying soldier. She knew, as did the other physicians, that death had to be accepted on its own terms. After he took his last breath, she could think of nothing but that so
ldier’s life, cut tragically short. Did he leave behind a spouse? Children? Parents? What had he hoped to do with his life, after the service? She had stroked his peach-fuzzed cheek for a moment, thinking what a waste, what a waste.

  Kathleen covered Claire with her robe and returned to her empty bed. She rested her head on Claire’s pillow and breathed deeply, wanting to absorb her essence. Kathleen thought about the complexity of love. The way Claire’s love wrapped around her heart, warming her, and the fear that followed when she thought…

  …that Claire might leave.

  CHAPTER 30

  Canfield’s Weekend in Scotland was approaching and the town would be magically transformed into a Scottish village with Highland dancing contests, Scottish sports, and pipe and band competitions, and other frivolity.

  Claire was excited about the festival and for movie night insisted that they rent the video of Brigadoon with Gene Kelly and Cyd Charisse, another old-time dance team Claire admired. “You’ll really like this one,” she told Kathleen. “It fits right in with the festival. It’s about a Scottish village that’s lost in time and can only appear for one day every hundred years. These two guys stumble into the village on that magical day, and guess what happens?”

  Kathleen looked serious but was laughing on the inside: different movie, different music, same plot as the umpteen other romantic flicks that set Claire’s heart aflutter. “Don’t tell me. One of them falls in love, almost loses the girl, and finally gets the girl.”

  Claire looked surprised. “How did you know? Well, there’s a real twist to this one. Do you think someone else will rent it before our movie night?”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll drive over now and hang on to it. If you want to, we can watch it twice.”

  Claire wrapped her arms around Kathleen. “I’m so glad you’re my girlfriend.”

  It was these kinds of memories that brought a smile to Kathleen’s face when she least expected it. Sweet memories and painful memories were now in competition. People began to notice a welcome change in their beloved doctor, who could be downright off-puttingly sobersides at times. Laughter could be heard coming from the exam rooms, and in general there was a new lightness in the medical offices of Kathleen Moore, MD.