Forget Me Not

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Forget Me Not Page 4

by Crystal B. Bright


  Janelle stared at him some more, then scanned the banner across the bottom of the screen that displayed his name.

  Janelle swallowed hard. She couldn’t help but drop her gaze down his body to his crotch. Penny would have called Janelle a hypocrite if she knew Janelle checked out this man.

  “I can’t. I got to go home and see my mother.” The player darted off screen and attempted to make his way through the sea of people.

  “That was nice, right?” Janelle put on her coat and pulled her purse strap on her shoulder.

  Nice? Yes. Janelle felt a strange tickling sensation going through her body. Since Gideon Wells played for the Virginia Beach Wolves, did that mean he lived in town? Would he be coming home to Virginia Beach?

  She shook her head. What was she thinking? He could come back home and she would never see him in person. No way would this multimillion-dollar athlete have some little house in the same neighborhood she lived. No, he probably lived at the Oceanfront area with one of those big, fancy houses people like her only dreamed about having.

  “Dude has the opportunity to talk to the president of the United States, and he bolts to see his mama? I don’t know. Sounds like a straight-up mama’s boy to me.” Penny turned the TV off and grabbed her things.

  “Hey, these are your kind of men, right?” Janelle brought her hands up and curved her fingers like Penny had done earlier. “High and tight.” Then she picked up the bouquet she’d made.

  “Yeah, but they have to be a little more macho than that.” Penny shook her head. “Hey, that guy’s name was Gideon Wells.”

  Janelle shook her head as she opened the front door for them to leave. “So?”

  “I wonder if he’s related to that guy that got shot, Gunnar Wells.”

  Janelle cocked her head. “What’s the chance that an MMA fighter and an NFL football player are related and from Virginia Beach? I don’t see that happening.”

  Penny shrugged. “You never know. Now if that guy was rushing home because of his brother, that would be a different story.”

  “Oh, then he would be dateable?” Janelle walked to her car.

  “Maybe. It depends.”

  Janelle shook her head. “See you in the morning.”

  “Bright and early.” Penny blew her a kiss before ducking into her car.

  As soon as Penny drove away, Janelle sat in her car and stared at her business. She cranked up the heat to not freeze to death as she stared at small storefront that sat in the middle of a shopping strip. An accountant’s office and an ice-cream parlor flanked either side of her place, which had a pink, green, and white sign at the top.

  As she stared at her baby, Janelle recalled the very first day she’d opened. She and Penny had taken pictures of the place before the first customer, well, Queen Elizabeth, had arrived.

  She glanced over at the stack of mail she’d left on the passenger seat. At the top sat a notice from the bank. Janelle had opened the first notice a couple of months ago that had stated she had missed her November payment. Last month’s notice had detailed how delinquent she’d become in paying her lease for the store. She had no desires to get yelled at again. To hide the bad news, she tossed her bouquet on top of them.

  Janelle had kept this information from Penny, hoping to turn things around. As long as she kept her employees paid, she would be okay. Janelle needed a miracle. Something had to go her way for once.

  She arrived at her small one-bedroom apartment near the Oceanfront area of Virginia Beach. With barely being able to take home a salary, she couldn’t afford one of those new, ritzy apartments being thrown up near the strip. Maybe one day…

  She closed her car door, making sure to leave her mail sitting on the passenger seat. No use bringing the bad news into her home. She did grab her bouquet. As though the slamming door signaled him, her downstairs neighbor, Buddy Harrison, appeared at his door.

  Janelle smiled as soon as she saw him. “Good evening, Mr. Harrison.” As soon as she arrived at his door, he reached out and held her hand.

  “You are as lovely as the flowers you sell.”

  The elderly man reminded Janelle so much of her grandfather. His weathered, mahogany skin made a perfect backdrop to his shocking white ring of hair around his bald head and his white teeth, his own, he proudly proclaimed.

  “You are so sweet.” Janelle patted the back of Buddy’s hand.

  “You and my youngest son would make pretty babies.”

  Janelle slipped her hand out of Buddy’s. “Too bad all your sons are married.”

  Mr. Harrison made a disapproving grunting sound deep in his throat. “His wife is not good for him. Always spending his money, and she doesn’t work.” He smiled as he looked at Janelle. “You. You would be good for him. You got your own business and you’re cute.”

  Janelle laughed. “How could I not love a glowing endorsement like that? I’m fine working and tending to my plants. Romance can wait.”

  “Not right now. Valentine’s Day is right around the corner.” Buddy registered his excitement by doing a slight dance.

  At least romance hadn’t died for this senior citizen. Janelle hoped to be so lucky to have a man who would be that romantic from the start and for the years they would be together.

  She brought up the bouquet she’d made. “For you to give to Mrs. Harrison.” She knew the duo didn’t leave their apartment much.

  From what Althea Harrison told her, their children lived in other states and didn’t come home often. Buddy treated Janelle like one of his own, often asking her to join him and Althea for dinner or trying to give her money. Being too proud, Janelle never took the money. She would always accept their gracious hospitality.

  “You are spoiling me and her.” Buddy waved his hand in the direction of his apartment. “That woman is trying to kill me. Always trying to get me to eat right and exercise.”

  Janelle leaned forward to whisper to him, “Call me crazy, but it sounds like she wants you around for a little bit longer.”

  “No. She’s killing me. I’m telling you. If she asks you for extra flowers, don’t bring them. They’ll be for my grave.” Even Buddy couldn’t hold back his laughter.

  “Shut that door! It’s cold out there.” Althea’s raspy voice held enough power to be heard all the way outside.

  It didn’t take long for the woman to sidle up behind her husband. As soon as she saw Janelle, her face lit up like a neon sign. Janelle always imagined that Althea’s complexion had probably looked like honey gold in her heyday. Now her ashen skin looked well-worn. Wrinkles creased her cheeks and forehead. When she smiled, more complementing lines shot out from the corners of her eyes.

  “She brought these for you.” Buddy handed his wife the bouquet. “I told her that you are as mean as a snake and didn’t deserve them.”

  “You know you like me mean.” She accepted the bouquet and nudged her husband’s side with her elbow.

  “You are right about that.” He chortled and gave her a kiss on her cheek.

  “Janelle, come on in and get you some hot cocoa and cookies.” Althea tapped her husband on his shoulder. “Stand back and let the baby in.”

  “She can get by me. Are you calling me fat?” Buddy threw his shoulders back as he looked down at his wife. Although he tried looking hard with his bottom lip poked out and his potbelly protruding proudly, he couldn’t keep up the hard expression. A smile broke on his face before his wife spoke.

  “I have more of you to love.” In her pink bedroom slippers with blue flowers embroidered in them, she shuffled up to her husband and gave him the sweetest kiss on his lips.

  To see the duo together gave Janelle a front-row seat to her possible future. She would love to marry a man, have children, and be with him for years.

  ’Til death do us part.

  “Thanks for the invite, but I’m beat.” Janelle took a step back. “Maybe another time.”

  “Don’t be a stranger. You come
down and visit whenever you’d like.” Buddy winked at her, but it came off as a fatherly wink than anything else.

  “Leave the girl alone. She has a business to run.” Althea tugged on Buddy’s tattered blue robe.

  “I’m not telling her to close up shop and move in. I said if she needs anything to come see us.” Buddy shook his head. “You have a good night, dear.”

  “You do the same. Good night, Mrs. Harrison.” Janelle waved as she started to climb the stairs.

  “Good night. See you tomorrow.”

  Buddy closed and locked his door. As soon as Janelle hit the second-floor landing, she wasted no time unlocking her door and getting into her apartment. The warmth inside enveloped her.

  Home sweet home.

  She hung her coat in the closet and headed to her bedroom. When she flicked on the light to her bedroom, Janelle hesitated in the doorway. Her bed that she’d made that morning remained untouched. As she stared at it, she realized once again that she lived alone. She had no one. She had great neighbors and a super best friend who also worked for her, yet she lived her life alone. If something happened to her, who would help her? No, what she really wanted to know is who would love her?

  Janelle padded to her bed and sat on the edge. Devoting her time to her studies, working, and her shop left her little time to date. She had dated some in college. She’d even had a boyfriend during her senior year, one she’d thought would have been her future Buddy to her Althea.

  A day after graduation, and after a night of passion at the Cavalier Hotel down at the Oceanfront, he told her in no uncertain terms that he had bigger plans in life outside of Virginia, and the plans didn’t include her.

  Although Janelle didn’t want to cry over a jerk like that, the tears came anyway. Having Penny by her side and hearing her detail the horrible things she wanted to do to him had allowed Janelle to get over him.

  Having him dump her the way he did gave Janelle some perspective. She had to keep her eyes on the prize. Once she established her business into a successful venture, she could go out and date again.

  Janelle stepped into the bathroom next door to her bedroom and started running hot water into the tub. Soaking for a bit before going to bed would help her relax. As the water ran, she took her time undressing.

  Her mind wandered to thoughts about her younger, more awkward self, the gangly teenager who’d found solace in books and botany rather than boys. With Ida for a mother, Janelle had had no chance of becoming the wallflower she’d wanted to be.

  “Go out. Meet boys. Hell, pretend like you’re going to do something wrong,” Ida would tell Janelle during her impressionable teen years.

  Not great advice coming from a mother. Ida couldn’t be classified as a typical parent. Janelle would never admit her mother had nailed that one bit of instruction. Attending a dance had her doing a lot of firsts. First time going to a dance, first time she didn’t get teased for being a loner and hugging the wall, and her first real, sensual kiss.

  As though feeling that soul-stirring sensual expression again, Janelle touched her lips. The tips of her fingers danced over them lightly before she nipped the tip of her middle finger with her teeth. He’d done that to her, teased her by grazing his teeth over her bottom lip and then taking a taste.

  Even now, Janelle’s knees quivered as they had done so many years ago. At the time, it had felt as though the kiss had lasted for twenty years. She remembered everything about the surprising lip-lock…except for the identity of the mystery boy who looked more like a man. She remembered how he’d towered over her and the way he’d placed his large hand next to her face.

  Afterward, he pulled away from her. In the darkened corner, she only remembered his eyes, those piercing blue eyes that had mesmerized. Could that boy have been Gideon Wells?

  Janelle shook her head. No way in the world could the mystery kisser from her youth be the same Super Bowl winning quarterback. Besides, what young man would kiss a young woman like that without introduction or permission or even a follow-up question or statement? A commotion had happened on the dance floor, and as fast as he had grabbed her and let his intentions known, he’d disappeared into the crowd. Janelle had taken that moment to make her exit. Until today, she hadn’t known who had rocked her world so many years ago.

  Who was she kidding? She still couldn’t be sure. She couldn’t rely on her memories about his eyes.

  Curiosity killed her. Janelle opened her laptop next to her bed and did a search for Gideon Wells. She didn’t want to read the stories, especially the ones about his dating life. She wanted to see his picture.

  A catalogue of pictures appeared. She scrolled through each of them until she stopped at one of his advertisements promoting eating spinach. Like the cartoon character, Popeye, Gideon held up a can of spinach and carried a menacing expression. The company’s tag line appeared underneath a shirtless Gideon. Spinach is good for everybody.

  Janelle scanned his broad shoulders down to his lean, long arms to his incredible chest. When she got to his abdomen, her search ended. She now understood the term six-pack abs. She licked her lips. Like Penny had early, Janelle stroked the screen as though she could feel every bulge in his biceps.

  “What the hell am I doing?” She snatched her hand back.

  Gideon Wells was now a hometown hero. He looked good enough to lick from his head to his toes. He would be coming home soon. That didn’t mean she would see him in person. Even if she did, so what?

  No use dwelling on the past. Janelle had bigger fish to fry. Her personal life could wait. She had a business to save.

  Chapter 3

  Gideon took a red-eye flight from California to Virginia. Passengers, shocked to see the Super Bowl-winning quarterback on their flight, congratulated him on the plane and as he went through the airport. Manners his mama had taught him kept him from snapping at these people and demanding they give him his space.

  After such a big high of winning the game of his life, his dream, it had all come crashing down as soon as Victor had told him about Gunnar. Gideon’s good knee bounced as he sat in first class on the last leg of his flight from Colorado to Virginia.

  He couldn’t wait to land, not so that he could get to his family, but so he could at least call them. Not being able to use his cell phone right now killed him.

  “Would you like something to drink, Mr. Wells?” The cordial flight attendant with sandy-blond hair smiled at him as she kept her stare directly into his eyes.

  “No, thank you.” Gideon couldn’t think about food or anything else until he could see Gunnar and know he would be fine.

  First, his mother, and now this. Queen Elizabeth always told him and his brothers, “God never gives you more than you can handle.” Right now, Gideon felt tested.

  A passenger walked by him to get to the lavatory. Since he sat in the aisle seat and took up a lot of space in his area, Gideon shifted his legs to allow the woman to get by him.

  A light dinging sound rang before the captain spoke. “We’re about twenty minutes from landing in Norfolk. We ask that all passengers return to their seats and fasten their seat belts.”

  Gideon hadn’t taken off his seat belt the entire flight. His mind raced with thoughts about his brother. Would Gunnar be able to walk after this? Did the shooter shoot his brother in the head? Had his mother been there when all of this went down?

  Gideon braced his elbows on his knees and rested his forehead on his hands. He took deep breaths, hoping to slow down his raging heartbeat. Hearing the hum of the plane’s engines helped him concentrate on something other than his negative thoughts. Without warning, he felt a hand on his shoulder that caressed him down to the middle of his back.

  Gideon lifted his head and turned. The woman who had gone to the bathroom swayed back and forth as she headed to her seat. She didn’t look back to him. He took her touch to be an accident. Although he hadn’t felt any turbulence, there must have been some. He did see her
looking unsteady on her feet.

  When the plane landed, Gideon wasted no time getting off as soon as he could and headed to the baggage-claim area. He shifted in his spot as he waited for his one suitcase to show. Since hearing about his brother, he hadn’t felt any pains in his knee, a feat considering what he’d put himself through last night.

  Gideon looked at his watch. He’d crossed over into Monday. Nine in the morning. No wonder the airport bustled. He had hoped to miss the big crowds when he came into town. At the first sighting of him, he knew it wouldn’t take the local media long to follow him around and ask him probing questions he didn’t want to answer.

  Time slipped by so quickly. The waiting area around the baggage carousel filled with the passengers from his flight…he assumed. He had been too consumed with his own thoughts to even notice anyone else.

  The red twirling light on top of the carousel lit up and spun as an annoying beeping sound honked before the scales of the carousel shifted and moved. Gideon kept one eye on the bags and the other on his phone. He called his mother’s cell phone first, knowing the woman would be awake and with Gunnar no matter the time.

  “Gideon,” Elizabeth whispered. “What are you doing calling so early? Shouldn’t you be resting?”

  “Hey, Ma.” He took from her whisper that she must be in the hospital room with Gunnar. Knowing that eased some of his fears. “I’m in town.”

  “What?”

  Gideon had to blink when his mother raised her voice. She never did that.

  She continued. “Why are you here? I thought you were in California.”

  “I called after the game. I got Victor. He told me about Gunnar. Is he okay? Didn’t mean that. I know he’s not okay. He made it, right? You’re with him, aren’t you?” Gideon couldn’t stop his babbling, but every question he’d thought of on his way back home came rushing out of his mouth.

  “Gunnar is resting. He got shot in the stomach.” Elizabeth’s voice hitched.

  “Oh, God.” Gideon spotted his red suitcase. He grabbed it with one hand and pulled it off the conveyor belt. “Who did this? Did they catch him?” He went out the door to the front of the airport. A row of cabs sat off to the side. He got in the first one.

 

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