Straight from the Heart

by Layce Gardner

  Susan looked shocked. Steph looked stunned and hurt. “Babe,” Steph started to say.

  “Get out!”

  They left quietly and quickly. Rosa was glad. Who the hell did they think they were? She felt a sense of vindication. She was in control of her own body and they needed to realize that. She sat up and eased her legs around the side of the bed. She was not spending another moment in that damn wheelchair. It made her feel vulnerable and powerless. She’d be damned if she had to live her life that way.

  Grabbing the handrail of the hospital bed, Rosa put her feet on the floor. Her legs felt weak but she steeled herself. She was tough. She worked out at the gym five days a week and physically taxed her body on a regular basis. She slowly levered herself to her feet. She could do this. She took her first step, still holding onto the railing. Her right foot shuffled forward two inches.

  That was it. Two friggin’ inches.

  Sweat was beaded on her upper lip and she felt as if she had run a marathon. For only two inches?

  Not to be so easily outdone, Rosa set a goal. The window ledge. She would walk to the window ledge and from there to the visitor’s chair. Then she would sit down and only then would she allow herself to rest.

  She looked back down at her feet and willed her left foot to move. That was when she lost her balance and fell. She held out her hands to break the fall.

  At least her face didn’t slam into the linoleum. Still, she lay floundering like a beached fish, wiggling back and forth. Tears of pain and outrage streaked down her cheeks.

  She tried to turn over, but couldn’t because she would have to twist her back to do it. She was stuck. She felt like that little boy in the movie, A Christmas Story. His mother had bundled him up in so many clothes that when he fell, he couldn’t get up.

  Served her right. She was a fool. A stupid, stupid fool. Thinking she was so tough that she could just jump out of bed and start walking. She slapped the linoleum with both palms and cursed.

  She stopped, panting. That little fit didn’t help matters. It was only depleting her much-needed energy.

  She looked around at her surroundings. She needed to get her ass back in bed. But how?

  She used her arms to drag herself around in a half-circle and reach up for the call button. Her fingers fell a foot short.

  She heard the door open. “Don’t tell me I told you so. I’ll scream if you do.”

  “I won’t,” the calm voice said.

  Rosa was relieved to see Parker walk around the end of the bed and look down at her. “Thank god it’s only you,” she breathed.

  “Would you be offended if I helped you up?” Parker asked.

  “Do not call anyone or tell anyone about this,” Rosa said. “Just get me up.”

  Parker surveyed the situation like Rosa’s predicament was one of her carpentry designs. “I’ll have to roll you over, gently, while still supporting your back.”

  “Fine. Do it.”

  Working together, Parker got Rosa into a sitting position. Then Parker lifted her to her feet. Rosa choked back a scream—it hurt so much.

  Parker’s strong arms were wrapped around Rosa, holding most of Rosa’s weight. Rosa rested her chin on Parker’s shoulder.

  Rosa sniffled. The tears kept coming. “Sorry. I’m a mess.”

  “You’re okay,” Parker soothed.

  “I am so frustrated and embarrassed,” Rosa said. “I hate that wheelchair.”

  Parker said, “You know, if anybody comes in right now and catches us like this… Well, it’s going to be hard to explain.”

  Rosa laughed lightly.

  Parker looked down into Rosa’s face and swiped away her tears. “Excuse me, but may I have this dance?”

  “I thought you didn’t like to dance,” Rosa said.

  “I’m a horrible dancer. But, hey, you’re a cripple. I figure you’d make me look better by comparison,” Parker joked.

  Rosa laughed. “Anything’s better than lying helpless on that floor.”

  And they slowly danced. Closer and closer, Parker inched Rosa to the bed. She gently placed Rosa on the bed, covered her with the thin sheet, and tucked her in.

  “You’re going to make somebody a good wife,” Rosa said.

  ***

  Parker drove over to Steph’s house after making sure Rosa was sleeping more or less peacefully. She knocked on the front door three times, and when nobody answered, she walked inside uninvited.

  “Steph?” she called out, walking from room to room.

  No answer.

  Parker walked to the sliding glass door looking out onto the backyard. There was Steph, in the back garden, pruning dead leaves, harvesting herbs, and singing.

  Parker slid open the door and listened as Steph tenderly sang “Cats in the Cradle” to her plants. What she lacked in singing ability, she made up for in emotion.

  After Steph sang the last refrain, Parker stepped out onto the deck. “Hey, girl! Is it break time?”

  Steph set the clippers on top of the basket she’d been using to collect herbs and brushed her hands off on the seat of her pants. “Might as well. The garden looks like crap anyway. I know the turning leaves are pretty, but it’s all the dying flowers and plants that I worked so hard to keep healthy all summer that depresses me. I’m forced to watch them shrivel and die a slow death until the first cold snap kills them for good.” She walked to the deck where Parker leaned against the railing.

  “Are you sure you’re talking about the garden?”

  “What d’ya mean?” Steph asked, plunking herself down onto a deck chair.

  “Rosa,” Parker said.

  Steph looked away. Blinked twice. “Want a beer?”

  “Sounds good.”

  Steph started to rise, but Parker waved her back down, saying, “Stay there. I know where the fridge is.”

  Parker went inside, leaving Steph on the deck. Steph took a deep breath and held it for a count of ten before slowly exhaling. Why did Parker have this uncanny ability to see through all your garbage and then have the balls to call you on it? Sometimes, having Parker as a friend felt more like a curse than a blessing.

  Inside the house, Parker pulled two beers from the fridge. She contemplated the nearly empty fridge before putting the beers back inside and firmly closing the door.

  Parker stuck her head out the back door and said, “Nix the beers. We’re going shopping.”

  Steph sighed. “I don’t feel like shopping. My wife hates me, my friend died, and now we’ve got a missing child. I don’t have much of an appetite.”

  “I wasn’t talking about shopping for food. It’s for Rosa who, by the way, doesn’t hate you. Why would you think that?”

  “She threw me out of her room. The only consolation was that she also threw Susan out. We were just trying to help her. They had to insert another tube to remove the built-up drainage. Susan had to stitch her back up again.”

  “I know.”

  “Did she call you?”

  “No, I saw her after she threw you out.”

  “She talked to you?” Steph asked.

  Parker shrugged. “We danced.”

  “Danced?”

  “I shouldn’t have told you that. Forget I said it,” Parker said. “Come on. We’re going to the big city.”

  “No. I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”

  Parker crossed her arms and considered. “Okay, but you have to promise not to scold her. It will only alienate you. And me.”

  “I won’t say a word, I swear.”

  “After you left, she got out of bed and tried to walk. She fell.”

  Steph opened her mouth to respond, but Parker held up her hand. “She’s okay. I got her back in bed. Her tube was still in and the stitches held.”

  A moment of silence passed. Finally, Steph muttered, “What the hell was she thinking?”

  “Rosa is a good cop. And a great friend. But she makes a really bad invalid. That’s why we’re going shopping,�
� Parker said. She disappeared back inside the house and ten seconds later, she tossed a jacket at Steph, saying, “It’s only 46 degrees in Kansas City with 15 mph winds.”

  “Kansas City?”

  “You know why people don’t like being in a wheelchair? Because they have no control. Rosa can’t propel herself in that clunky heap of rusty metal they call a chair. It’s so awkward that you have to push her around.”

  “I know, but…”

  “I’ve done some research. We’re going to buy her an Invacare wheelchair, so she can be as mobile as possible. That’s why we’re going to the city. Hurry up, we’re burning daylight.”

  Steph brightened. “This might just work.” She stood and put on the jacket. “You’re a good friend, Parker.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Even if you are really weird.”

  “Says the woman who sings to her herb garden.”

  ***

  Millie and her posse of senior women canvassed the town. Chief Bob Ed had reluctantly allowed them to do it after Millie informed him that police made folks jumpy whereas the women had a network of friends and neighbors who were the eyes and ears of the community. They’d rather talk to Millie over a police officer and Bob Ed knew it. He admitted she was right and the women were allowed to go looking and talking. He made them promise to leave all firearms at home. Despite their best efforts, no one had seen Sam or his mother.

  Sam had been missing two days now. Jeb and Clementine were keeping it together as best they could. Amy and Luke did as much work at the newspaper as they could to keep Jeb from stressing anymore than he already was. Amy was proud of Luke. He helped with the daily news and picking pertinent articles off the AP. With Amy covering the local news and Luke doing his part, Jeb’s responsibilities were lightened. Amy noticed Jeb looking at Luke in a different way, too.

  Clementine brought them lunch from the deli. Nobody wanted to stop working long enough to go out and eat. They all knew keeping busy was best—otherwise the waiting would eat them alive.

  In the middle of all this activity, the door opened and Sam walked in just as big as you please. He was followed by a taxi driver.

  Clementine scooped Sam up in her arms. “Oh, my dear, sweet boy, where have you been?”

  Jeb came over and they all huddled together until Sam squeaked in protest. “You’re squishing me.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie,” Clementine said, setting him down. Jeb tousled his hair.

  The taxi driver cleared his throat. Jeb looked over at him, puzzled, then realized that a taxi driver had returned Sam.

  “I don’t have enough money but I told him you’d give him some,” Sam explained. “I can mow your lawn to pay you back.”

  “Oh, sweetie, of course, we’ll pay him,” Clementine said, letting go of his hand. She picked up her purse. “How much?” she asked the taxi driver.

  “A hundred and forty dollars plus tip,” the taxi driver said. “The kid gave me a twenty as a down payment.”

  Clementine pulled out her pocket book.

  “Where were you?” Amy asked.

  “Wynard,” Sam said.

  Jeb rooted in his wallet and pockets. Amy could tell between the two of them they didn’t have enough cash. She grabbed her purse. Luke pulled out his wallet. It took all four of them to come up with the cash and a tip.

  Sam stuck out his hand to the taxi driver. “Thank you for driving me.”

  “My pleasure, little man.” He shook Sam’s hand and then looked at the rest of them. “I don’t know what this was all about. I’m just glad he’s back where he belongs. He’s a good kid.”

  “He sure is,” Jeb said, looking like he was trying not to cry.

  Sam looked at Luke’s half eaten sandwich. Luke noticed. “You hungry?”

  “Yeah, starving.”

  Luke gave the sandwich to him. Jeb looked at his son and smiled. Amy could tell between the extra work and parting with food that he was proud of his son. He was finally growing up.

  “He must really like you, Sam. Luke never gives up his sandwich for anyone,” Jeb said.

  Sam smiled. “He loves me.”

  Luke blushed, then fist-bumped Sam.

  “How’d you figure out to take a taxi?” Jeb asked.

  Sam finished chewing before he answered. “Parker told me if I ever got stuck anywhere and I couldn’t get home, I should call a taxi. So I did. She gave me twenty-dollars to tuck away in my shoe under the padding,” he took his black Converse off and pulled back the insole, “like this.”

  “Parker told you that?” Amy asked, trying not to sound incredulous.

  “Yeah, she says people have unforeseen difficulties and I should always be prepared. I was going to call, but I couldn’t reach the phone in the back of the bar without my mom seeing it.”

  “You were in a bar?” Clementine asked. This time her voice was incredulous.

  “Yeah, my mom knows the bar guy so he let me stay as long as I didn’t cause trouble. I waited till Mom took some pills and got drunk and passed out. I ran down the street, then I saw the taxi guy drop a lady off and he brought me here. I’m sorry it cost so much money.”

  “Dude needs a cell phone,” Luke said.

  “He’ll be getting one,” Jeb said.

  ***

  Tess was furious. All her hard work in placing Sam with Jeb and Clementine only to have his mother kidnap him. This was the type of thing that pushed Tess beyond her mortal limits.

  “We’ve got to get him to talk,” Tess said, pointing her fork at Susan. They were having dinner at Tess’s house. They spent most of their time together there. Susan’s house felt too sterile. Tess jokingly called it Eastern Block decorating—all grey, black, and white. Tess’s house was tiny, but oozed comfort.

  “Sam doesn’t want his mother to get in trouble,” Susan said. She took another bite of chicken. “This is really good lemon chicken.” Tess was also the cook. Susan was still trying to master the microwave. She burned popcorn on a regular basis.

  “He’s protecting his mother, I get that. But he’s a kid who doesn’t understand that she could do it again. And just because it turned out okay this time doesn’t mean something bad won’t happen next time.” Tess took a sip of Merlot.

  “Can’t you do an express thing on the paperwork to get him in permanent foster care?” Susan asked, balancing a piece of asparagus on her fork.

  “Jeb and Clementine want to adopt him.”

  “Doesn’t that help?” Susan asked.

  Tess nodded. “It does. After this stunt, the mother lost what few rights she had left. She can’t see him alone anymore. But that doesn’t mean she won’t do it anyway. We need to find her.” She sipped her wine.

  “Sam’s going to need his own Secret Service,” Susan said.

  “He already has one. Millie’s Militia, as they’re calling themselves, are escorting him to school. They’ll pick him up and stay with him until they hand him over to Jeb and Clementine in the evening after they get home from work. But I still worry he’ll go with his mother if she shows up again.”

  “Sam knows how much his leaving worried Jeb and Clementine. He won’t want to do that. And Millie’s web is far-reaching,” Susan said.

  “I hope so.”

  “Eat your dinner before it gets cold,” Susan said. “You’re going to need your strength.” She winked lasciviously.

  Tess raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

  Susan smiled. “As you doctor, I highly recommend that you eat as much protein as you can.”

  After they did the dishes together, Susan and Tess went into the living room. One entire wall was a rock fireplace with a slate rock ledge. The hardwood floors were naturally distressed from years of use. Hand-woven rugs were scattered throughout. The walls were textured plaster and painted a soothing café au lait color. The room was a plethora of textures—from the pillows on the sofa to the handmade quilt hanging on the wall. The effect was cozy and intimate.

  Susan sat down on
the overstuffed, well-loved couch. She tucked her legs up under her and leaned back into the soft cushions while Tess knelt before the fireplace. She added two more logs and the flames leapt higher.

  Susan watched Tess. It was one of her favorite things to do. She thought she would never get tired of watching Tess. Everything Tess did, every movement she made, was graceful. Just watching her stoke the fire was akin to watching a finely choreographed ballet.

  Susan was in no way a poet. She was too left-brained for that. But she could appreciate the poetry in others.

  Tess turned around and found Susan gazing at her, lost in thought. “Are you okay?”

  Susan smiled. “More than okay.”

  “Oh?”

  “Come sit with me.”

  “Gladly.”

  Tess moved to the sofa. Wordlessly, she took one of Susan’s feet in her hands. She slowly removed Susan’s boot. She peeled off the sock. She began to knead Susan’s bare foot. Her thumb moved in slow circles over the heel, the arch, the ball. Susan closed her eyes and moaned.

  “You have so much tension,” Tess said.

  “Mmmm.”

  Tess removed Susan’s other boot and sock. She massaged that foot.

  “God, how can you do that?” Susan asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Give such delicious foot rubs.”

  “Know what else I can do?” Tess asked.

  Susan smiled. “I think I do know.”

  Tess crawled over Susan’s prone body. She lightly traced her lips over Susan’s lips. But she didn’t stop there. She kissed Susan’s neck, her ears, her shoulders.

  Susan felt the day’s tension leaving her body and being replaced with a new energy.

  “I want you,” Tess whispered into Susan’s ear.

  Susan shivered under the caress of Tess’s warm breath. “Then take me,” Susan said. “Please.”