Heather's Heart

by Renee Lovins

  "Good. Dinner?"

  "Yes, as I'm now starving."

  He flashed me a quick smile and part of me wanted to skip dinner, but the rumble from my midriff sent a wave of heat up my face and he laughed.

  "My stomach agrees with you, so no arguments there. Simple or fancy?"

  "Simple please, I'm not much of a fancy person to begin with."

  "So? That doesn't mean you don't deserve to be treated like royalty."

  I darted a glance at him, a bit confused, and he caught the look and shrugged.

  "I've always thought any woman should be treated as if she was the most precious thing in your life. After all, isn't that the point?"

  My mind whirled and I didn't know how to respond to that. John had loved me, but he rarely went out of his way to cater to me. Granted, he would have done anything I asked, but doing special things without me prompting would never have occurred to him.

  "Maybe? How about we table that subject? I don't even know how to respond. And burgers?"

  "We can do that." Once again he tucked my arm into his, and I leaned into it. John had always held my hand as we walked, so this was different yet intimate, but didn't trigger any memories.

  He led me across to the street to the restaurant with patio seating looking out over Peachtree. The evening was beautiful, and the weather warm, so sitting out on the patio made for a pleasant experience.

  Un-sweet ice tea delivered, orders taken, and that left us alone on the patio enjoying watching the cars and people pass by.

  "So why?"

  Chris looked at me, a frown on his face. "So why what?"

  "Why ask me out? Why put up with my barely leashed sanity? Just why?" I needed to understand. Granted, I'd never understood why John fell for me, but for this I needed to have some clue before it went any farther. Before I lost myself in wanting what I missed so much.

  He stopped setting down the bread and looked at me, an odd look on his face. The silence stretched and I felt my face starting to burn. I wanted with every fiber in my being to run and flee, when he started to talk.

  "So my daughter came home and told me a lady had hit her in the parking lot. Her exact words, 'She seemed really sad, Dad. But I don't know why. It seemed really deep.' I didn't think anything about it, still annoyed about the dent in my car. But then you answered the phone and I thought my daughter might be right. There seemed a well of sadness in you. When I saw you walk in, I hoped you were there to meet me. You headed right to the counter, and I figured that wasn't my luck. Turns out I was lucky. You walk with such self-assurance I was lost, then you smiled at me. I could have cheered when I realized you didn't wear a ring. Then we talked after that first coffee and my thought? When you told me about John? I thought he was a lucky man to have someone like you love him. And I wondered if I had a chance to be worthy of that type of love." Chris ducked his head and looked at his fingers, which had shredded a piece of bread. "Silly I know. But I loved being married, Jessica just didn't want to be married to a blue collar guy." He looked back up at me a smile on his face. "Does that explain why?"

  I sat there stunned and just blinked, I couldn't come up with anything else to do. The waiter rescued me by bringing food, and that occupied us for the next few minutes, but his words never stopped spinning in my head.

  "Okay," the word blurted out before I could finish processing my own thoughts.

  He looked up at me, arching an eyebrow and looking around. "Okay, what?"

  "Context, I always forget the context. Okay, yes. I'd to try this," I waved my hands, "us, whatever this is or might be."

  The smile that blossomed on his face took my breath away. His mouth moved, but he didn't make any words and just tilted his head, smiling at me.

  I laughed. The laughter bubbled up deep from inside and it felt like strings had been cut. Bindings I didn't realize were there until they were gone.

  "So, ignoring the last movie we saw, Marvel or DC?"

  Rather than be annoyed he was changing the subject so drastically, I felt relived. I wanted to experience this, see where it led, but words right now would over complicate everything. The discussion delved into favorite female superhero and he gave Wonder Woman.

  "This is probably a side effect of my childhood, but Lynda Carter is still one of the sexiest women I've ever seen and she made that character for me."

  Thinking back I compared her to the current incarnations. I had watched as a kid, but I wanted to be Jaime Sommers.

  "Point. She is gorgeous."

  He nodded. "What about you, who is your favorite?"

  "Jennifer Walters," I responded promptly. "I always loved her taking a monster and making it a hero. I felt sorry for Bruce, and still do." I didn't mention that I still found the actor that played him adorable.

  Our conversation rambled and before I knew it, we were walking back towards his car, my arm in his. The evening seeming perfect as if it had been written in a story. He ushered me into the car and slipped in on his side.

  "Back to your house?"

  "Yeah," my reply soft as I wondered what would happen then. Sex? That I didn't know if I was ready for, but I needed to do something, to at least try. I didn't think I could continue to live my life so isolated.

  We didn't talk on the drive home, but he held my hand. I didn't feel the need for words, enjoying the feeling of comfortable silence between us. As he pulled up into my driveway, his phone rang. Putting the car into park he frowned at it.

  "Give me a minute. It's Lana, and she knew I had a date tonight." He swiped at his phone and raised it to his ear. "Lana? What's up?" Even from the other side of the car I could hear the panic in her voice, and Chris paled. "Now? He's there now?… Okay have you called the cops?… I'll head there now, give me fifteen." He dropped the phone his eyes looking like he had been gutted with a spoon.

  "What's wrong?" My heart had started to race with the panic in his daughters voice, and the look on his face didn't do anything to relieve my worry.

  He shook his head slipping out of the car, and was at my door before I could react, helping me out. "Heather, I have to go. This isn't how I wanted to leave, but Lana, she needs me. A guy she dated isn't taking no for an answer. The cops are on the way. I have to go." He sounded as if he was being torn in two, and I frowned.

  "Chris. She's your daughter. Get out of here now. Go. Let me know if everything is okay."

  A soft growl, a sound that wrapped around my heart, slipped out of him, and he stepped closer. His hand drifted up my arm, to cup around the back of my head, pulling me gently into him. He leaned down, and pressed a hard swift kiss on my lips. I didn't even have time to react, though I think my brain froze with the feeling of his hand at the base of my neck, and his lips on mine for the briefest of moments. The warmth left as he stepped back, looking at me with an expression I couldn't interpret.

  "I will contact you." Then he was back in his side of the car, and it was moving and gone before I could process the kiss, or even had a chance to respond.

  In a numb haze, a mix of arousal, worry, surprise, and too many other emotions, I let myself into my empty house, locking the door behind me.

  I hope everything is okay.

  Worry for his daughter surfaced as the primary feeling and I changed my clothes, then curled up in my chair and waited. Not willing to really focus on anything. I'd gotten a bit too good at living without thought or movement, and maybe that wasn't a good thing.

  I pushed that thought away and instead thought about the evening, and tried not to worry about everything ending before it had begun. I was all too aware of the fact that people could be taken from you in an instant. That thought haunted me, and as time passed my stress level ratcheted higher and higher. I barely knew the girl, and I could feel my panic building at the thought she had been hurt. She had to be okay, I couldn't handle any more bad stuff happening to people I cared about. It had gotten to the point I paced back and forth when my phone rang. A squeak came out, then I dove for the phone,
cussing that I had laid it down for even a moment. A glance at the screen as I swiped it reassured me it was Chris.

  "Is she okay?" The words rushed out of my mouth so fast I almost couldn't understand them.

  "Yes. The cops were here by the time I showed up. They arrested him for trespassing. She is shaken up, but okay." He paused and I waited, I understood those silences where you try to organize your words to make sense the way they did in your head. "I don't think he is a threat, but even so I'm probably going to be a bit more paranoid the next few weeks. I still want to see you, but right now I don't think I can get that far from home in the evenings when she is here." Another pause and my stomach had turned into a Gordian knot as I waited. "I'm a big believer in the guy does the effort, but would you be willing to drive our here for dinners and what not? Maybe another date?"

  A laugh escaped me and I sagged into my chair. "I've been driving a while. I think I can handle transportation to my date. Are you okay?"

  "Adrenaline fading, leaving me exhausted. And that was not how I wanted to leave you." His voice dropped an octave, becoming huskier and my body tightened in response. "I really wanted to see how you felt in my arms, to kiss you with time to enjoy it."

  "I'd like that." The words were true, regardless of the writhing mass of snakes in my belly. I wanted to be in his arms. Hell, I wanted to be held by him.

  "Good. I'm going to get the house locked up, check on Lana, and I'll call tomorrow?"

  "Okay." I hung up and exhaled deeply trying to keep a lid on the cauldron of emotions that churned inside.

  5

  Sunday passed with two texts from Chris, but nothing else, and that suited me. I rushed around with chores, groceries, and the day disappeared before I realized.

  The work week kicked into gear Monday, and I barely had time to glance at my phone. A smiley face awaited me when I finally checked it. I smiled, but just dropped the phone in my purse as I started my drive home. This drive had become so routine that I almost drove on automatic. The horns behind me gave me enough time to look up to see a semi heading straight for the back of my car. There was an explosion of sound and white light, then blackness.

  "Ma'am? Ma'am, can you hear me?"

  The voice didn't sound familiar and I hurt everywhere, my eyes felt funny, swollen.

  "Mrmph", was all I could figure out how to say.

  "She's conscious. Let's get her in the ambulance and to the ER."

  I felt my body rising, and as disoriented as I was, it felt like I was flying. I tried to turn my head to look around, but it was restrained. That set off a wave of panic and I started to try harder to move.

  "Ma'am, Heather. Listen to me. You were in a car accident. We have you strapped to a board with a brace to make sure you don't move. You need to stay calm so we can get you to the hospital." The words were soft, unhurried, and the complete lack of panic or stress calmed me down.

  "Okay," the words made sense this time, and I felt someone squeeze my hand. I closed my eyes and while I don't think I blacked out, we were at the hospital before I really could account for. Tests, x-rays, shots, ooh the good drugs, until finally, a lifetime of disorientation later, I found myself in a room, with a doctor flashing a light in my eyes.

  "Good news, Heather." I'd told them to call me that. The last thing I could handle right now was being Mrs. Lewis'd to death. "You have a mild concussion, a broken right leg, seatbelt bruises, two spectacular black eyes, some minor abrasions, but other than that you are fine."

  The list of what was wrong with me made me shudder and panic rose. "That is good news?" My voice squeaked up on the last part.

  The doctor, I couldn't remember his name, too many people had introduced themselves to me, then disappeared for me to keep track of names, laughed. "Yes, it's very good news. With as bad as that accident was there was serious fear of a broken spine, brain damage, or internal bleeding. You were extremely lucky."

  "I guess getting killed the same way my husband did would have been a bit too ironic for the universe."

  The doctor blanched, looking at his tablet. "You were alone in the car, right?" Worry lacing his voice.

  Oops, did I say that out loud?

  My brain to mouth filter seemed to have disengaged with the drugs I was on. I barely hurt.

  "No, last year, he was killed in a car accident." I tried to clarify, but I wasn't sure if that was what I actually said. They were good drugs.

  He said the normal platitudes, which I barely heard, still trying to figure out how this impacted me.

  "I wanted to talk to you about your home care and who is going to pick you up and watch over you for the next week."

  "My what?"

  The doctor arched a brow, probably at the squeak of panic in my voice. "Your home care? You can't be alone for at least a week." He held up his hand as I started to protest. "While the likelihood of complications is low, you still got bounced pretty hard and someone needs to be there if you experience dizziness, nausea, or pass out." He gave me a look over his glasses and I subsided. "Not to mention at the moment your body is one big bruise and getting up is going to be agony. A week with someone around will be good."

  I couldn't argue with that. Just sitting up straight in bed let me know my entire body felt like someone had used it as a burlap sack to beat fires with. He went over the instructions, which boiled down to: take the pain pills, take it easy, and give yourself time to recover.

  When he left, I dealt with the parts I knew how to deal with. First up, calling my boss. That conversation went fine, and she started the paperwork for short term disability. I felt sorry for her. Between last year with the death of John and now this, I probably wasn't worth the trouble. Maybe I should retire or quit and move.

  And go where?

  I had a few friends scattered across the US, but the idea of selling the house, packing up again, and starting over someplace new, alone, just seemed a herculean task. Staying in one place, letting myself hurt had been easier. And now I got to pay the price.

  Who in the hell is going to look after me for a week?

  The noise of the hospital faded around me as I stressed, my mind locked in a loop of trying to figure out what to do. The only person whose face popped into my mind was Chris. But that was insane, he barely knew me, I barely knew him. But… maybe I could offer to pay someone for a week to stay at my place? It was a stretch, but I had a spare bedroom, and they had home care nurses, right?

  It was a slim, slim, thread, and I knew it. But I couldn't come up with anything else other than literally hiring someone. And while insurance would provide for it, the idea gave me the heebies at a level I didn't want to examine. If nothing else, maybe he could drive me home. That was it! I just wouldn't mention that I was supposed to have someone watch over me. And pain, pain was an old friend. I didn't have much doubt I could get through it, besides drugs would solve that problem.

  More drugs sounded like a really good thing right now. Though I didn't know if I wanted them for the physical or emotional pain. A familiar wave of agony lanced through me. John was supposed to be here. That was who I should be calling right now. My eyes closed as I fought back the old pain.

  When it had faded back to the ache that had become my constant companion, I clicked on Chris's name.

  "Hey, Heather. How's your day?" His voice had enjoyment and humor in it. I hoped I wasn't about to destroy everything, but dammit at the moment I couldn't handle calling a taxi or anything. The desire to cry, a mix of frustration, pain, worry, and fear swelled up and I had to fight to swallow.

  "Um, not so good." I glanced at the clock on the wall and realized it was almost ten at night.

  "Heather?" His voice sharpened and I could hear the sound in the background cut off. "What's wrong?"

  I would not cry, I was not some scared little girl. I fought back the tears and focused on facts.

  "I was in a car accident this afternoon. And I need a ride home. Would you mind?"

  "Which hospital?" I hea
rd shuffling in the back ground and the clomp of shoes.

  "Northside?" I held my breath.

  "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

  His instant response, no qualifiers, no hesitation, had a fresh batch of tears threatening to spill.

  "Thank you."

  "Heather…" he trailed off and I heard the beep of his car in the background. "I'll be there shortly."

  I found myself busy with paper work to get released, fighting to concentrate, when I just wanted to take pills and let darkness pull me down. But I needed to get home first, be somewhere safe. Something made me look up to see Chris striding through the hallway towards my room. I had the fantasy image for a moment that he had had a cape billowing behind him.

  My hero.

  The though was both amused and wistful, and I pushed it aside.

  "Heather, are you okay?" He moved to my side, and his hand traced down the side of my face, feather light.

  "Yeah. I look like shit, but mostly bruises and a broken leg."

  "You don't look like shit, though you do look like someone in desperate need of TLC." His smile stirred something in my heart and I ignored it. I had gotten very good at ignoring emotions.

  "Yeah, well if you could give me a ride home and get me in the house, I'd really be grateful."

  Chris started to respond when the doctor walked in and I held my breath.

  "Ah, good. You must be here for Mrs. Lewis. Here are her care instructions." He handed Chris some paperwork. "Make sure she doesn't overdo it. Her leg is in a fiberglass cast, so she can bathe, though I'd rather she doesn't for at least 48 hours. She still might have bouts of dizziness. If she starts throwing up or passes out bring her back at once. Here is a prescription for pain killers, and she needs to take them. She is going to be in a lot of pain for a while. I'll give her a another dose before she leaves as you won't be able to get that filled until the morning." He paused to check his records then smiled at us, a distant professional smile. "That should be it. Take care, Mrs. Lewis." With a brief nod of his head he headed back to the nurse's station.