“What do you mean, Unca Nelson? You’re not going to live with Miss Lena and me?” Ricky’s bottom lip drooped, and tears pooled in his eyes. “Can Audie come live with us?”
He had tried for the past hour to explain. Ricky was capable of understanding, but he didn’t want to. “Son, I’ll be back here as soon as my orders allow it. I’ve tried to explain that I’m a serviceman, and I have to go where they send me.”
“Then why can’t I go, too?”
Nelson ran his head over his hair. Try explaining war to a five-year-old. “The Marine Corps won’t let me, son. If I could, I would.”
“Is Mr. Meade a serviceman? Can I go live with Judy?”
“Sorry, son. That’s out of the question. I have to go to work now. Try to understand.”
But Ricky hadn’t understood and had announced, “I’m not going to be a marine. I hate marines!”
“You know I’ll do the best I can for him,” Lena said, “and Lord knows I do thank you for the trouble you’re going to to leave a home for me.” She stunned him by reaching up and kissing his cheek. “The Lord will bless you, and you’ll get back here safely.” She didn’t mention Audrey, for which he was grateful. “I sure do wish you’d change your mind and not go,” she added in a prayerful tone.
Raising his left shoulder in a quick, dismissive shrug that belied his true feelings, he stepped out of his house and headed for his office. Once there, he began studying in preparation for the briefings that would preface his mission to Afghanistan. He had done his best to prepare Ricky for his departure, but didn’t think he’d made a dent in Ricky’s thinking. The boy seemed unable to contemplate a life without him. And Lena wasn’t much better. He opened the manual and began reading.
* * *
A week passed and, neither having heard anything from Audrey nor learned that she’d mentioned the matter of his neck to his superiors, he relaxed and went about his daily work.
The penultimate briefing was held in the conference room of a senior general. Nelson had slept poorly the previous night and was battling fatigue while he took notes and tried to concentrate on the speaker. A door behind him opened and, as did several other officers, he turned to see who had entered. However, the abruptness of his move sent pain searing along his neck and shoulders, and he grabbed his neck with his left hand. Realizing what he’d done, he tried to recover and turn back to face the general who stood before them, but couldn’t. Such excruciating pain gripped him that he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.
Two senior officers attempted to help him, questioning him as to the source of his problem and, unable to move his head without enormous pain, he had no choice but to admit the truth.
* * *
“I’m surprised you came,” he said to Audrey when he awoke to see her sitting beside his bed. “How long have I been here and what is this thing they’ve harnessed me into?”
“You’ve been here since yesterday, and the thing, as you call it, keeps your head immobile. You’re also full of painkillers. Why are you surprised to see me here?”
“Are you going to say you told me so?”
She leaned over and brushed his lips with her own. “No, but I will say I’m glad it happened here where you could get proper treatment.”
“I suppose I am, too. How are Ricky and Lena taking this?”
“Aunt Lena is thanking the Lord you’re finally getting treatment, and Ricky is convinced you’ve gone to Afghanistan. Are you still angry with me?”
He needed to touch her, to know that she wasn’t an apparition, that she had forgiven him and still loved him. But he had no right to ask or to expect it. He reached toward her as best he could without moving, and she grasped his hand.
“How could I be? When I walked away from you that night, I felt as if my insides had been hollowed out. Knowing you’re here is... Let’s just say I’ll never forget it.”
“You may be hospitalized for a while, so I’ll call you and let Ricky talk with you.” She looked around. “Cell phone use is prohibited in here. You don’t have a phone?”
“I probably couldn’t reach it without turning my head.”
“Right. Mind if I come back to see you?”
Was she kidding? “I’ll mind if you don’t.”
She continued to hold his hand, giving him hope that they could recover what they had lost. “We’re talking to each other as if we were strangers. It’s downright painful,” he said, wondering how they would overcome it and whether she wanted to try.
Her fingers tightened around his in what he recognized as an attempt to reassure him. “I’ll be back tomorrow after work.”
“I’ll look forward to that. If you can, would you stop by my house and let Lena and Ricky know I’m all right?”
“Of course. I’ve overstayed my time, so I’d better go.” But he couldn’t bear to release her hand and held on to it until she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. At his inquiring glance, she said, “It wouldn’t make sense to start a fire that can’t be put out.”
His eyebrow shot up. “If memory serves me correctly, you’ve done that plenty of times.”
She laid her head to one side and looked at him through lowered lashes. “There might not have been the will, but honey, there was always a way.”
He laughed, and it felt good. “Touché.”
“See you tomorrow.” With that, she left him with reason for hope but no basis for certainty. Not the knowledge that she was his and would always be. Not the oneness they had once shared. He needed that, needed it with her, and he intended to give it his best shot.
* * *
Two weeks later, Audrey drove Nelson home from the hospital. “How do you feel?” she asked, aware that if he recovered he could leave on his mission at any time.
He pushed back the car seat to accommodate his long legs. “This is the first time since that plane crash that I’ve been totally pain-free for as long as twenty-four hours. I hope it lasts.”
“It will if you do the exercises.”
“Now that the cat’s out of the bag, will you be my therapist?”
“We can try it, but if you don’t cooperate fully, you’ll have to get another doctor. Agreed?”
“Yeah. Let me spend some time with Ricky and Lena, and if you’re not busy tonight, I’d like to see you at your place.”
“All right with me. Aunt Lena will want you to have dinner at home, so I’ll see you around seven-thirty?”
“Great. Thanks for...for everything.”
She drove home slowly, her mind filled with thoughts of Nelson and what he would ask or offer. If the past two weeks had taught her anything, it was that Nelson Wainwright was as essential to her as breathing. Her father always said there was more than one way to bait a hook, and she meant to test his theory.
* * *
“Unca Nelson! Unca Nelson! You came back!” Ricky ran to him with arms outstretched and threw himself into Nelson’s arms.
“Didn’t Miss Lena tell you I was in the hospital?”
Ricky eyes grew big and round. “You were? Just like I was? Did they give you a wheelchair?”
He hugged the boy. “I didn’t need one. Where’s Miss Lena?”
“In the garden doing something.”
He went outside and stood on the deck. “How’s it going, Lena? Just wanted you to know I’m home. Audrey dropped me off a few minutes ago.”
She stopped cutting roses and rushed up to the deck. “I didn’t like the looks of you in that sickbed, but you look just fine now. I don’t believe you lost a single pound.” She gazed at him. “It sure is good to have you home. I was so worried.”
Bridging the last barrier between them, he put his arms around her and held her. “I knew you would be, and I hated those first few days when I couldn’t tell you I was all right
.” He released her, and she stepped back, wiping her eyes as she did so.
“If I had a son, Colonel, I’d want him to be just like you.”
“That’s about the nicest thing you could say to me, and I want you to know you can depend on me as you would on a son. And since we have that settled, I suggest you call me Nelson or whatever suits you, but never Colonel or sir.”
Before she could answer, he whirled around and headed for his room. The sound of Ricky playing the piano followed him, and the first thing to catch his eye was the stack of mail on his desk.
He sat down and began to separate real mail from junk, and his gaze landed on an envelope with the Marine Corps’ return address. Perspiration dampened his forehead as, with fingers that trembled, he opened the envelope. If, after all he’d gone through, he still had to resign, there was no justice. He forced himself to read the short paragraph.
“It gives me great pleasure to inform you that you have been elevated to the rank of Brigadier General. You will receive uniform adjustments under separate cover. Congratulations.”
He read and reread it. When he heard Lena coming up the stairs, he dashed to meet her and thrust the letter in her hands.
“Look. Read this!”
“Well, as the Lord is my helper, I do declare! General Wainwright, you one big heap of mess. Congratulations. If I’d ’a known this earlier, you would get a dinner fit for a kin...I mean general.”
He knew his face was covered in one big grin. “You’re the first person to call me that. Thanks.”
He could hardly make it through dinner, read to Ricky and put the child to bed, but at last he was on his way to Audrey. Happiness suffused him, and he hoped nothing happened to dampen it. If she told him they had a chance, he’d settle for that. For now. Congratulating himself on getting there in one piece considering the speed at which he drove, he ran up the steps to the front door and rang the bell.
* * *
The door opened. “Wha... What’s this?”
“Quit gaping and come on in,” she said in a matter-of-fact manner, as if she weren’t dressed to torch an entire regiment.
He supposed his eyes appeared to be popping out of his head. “Is uh...that an evening gown or a nightgown?”
“Whichever I decide.”
He walked around to see the back, but there wasn’t any, at least none above the separation of her buttocks. He shook his head, not in disapproval but in admonishment to his libido. She turned to face him, which was certainly no help; cleavage didn’t describe it. And, man, did she look a million dollars in red.
“I’d better sit down,” he said. She led him to the living room. “What’s this?”
“Champagne. I thought we’d celebrate your release from the hospital.”
He cocked an eyebrow. She was way ahead of him, and catch-up wasn’t a game he played well. “You know I wouldn’t drive after drinking that.”
Her shrug would have put the great Mae West to shame. “Then spend the night.”
He swallowed hard. Ready for action. But his second sense told him that if he did it her way, he would win the bigger prize. He took out his cell phone and called Lena.
“This is Nelson. I don’t like the idea of Ricky waking up and not finding me at home... I’ll get there around seven or seven-thirty... You bet... Sleep well.”
“What did she say?”
“She said ‘Have a good time.’ Didn’t even ask where I was. I can’t believe it.
“We might as well get started on this stuff,” he continued, wrapping the towel around the champagne bottle and easing out the stopper. She sat beside him. He couldn’t glance at her without a glimpse of what he wanted in his mouth, and it wasn’t the champagne.
“I’m only going to drink two glasses,” she said.
“Don’t I know it. A tipsy Audrey in that dress could get a man a prison term. Say, I forgot to show you this.” He took the letter from his pocket and handed it to her. “Read it.” He watched as she read and reread it, watched as tears streamed down her face.
“I’m so happy. You can’t know how happy I am. I...I worried so much about what would happen to you. I’m just so thankful. So...” she stopped talking and covered her face with her hands when the tears wouldn’t stop.
“Audrey, don’t cry, honey. Please... I—”
She turned to him and, wonder of wonders, she was in his arms again, her lips parted to welcome his tongue. Blood roared in his head and he plunged into her, taking everything she gave as she opened to him, pulling his tongue deeper into her mouth and sucking on it until he was in a frenzy for relief. He wanted this, but he needed more—and quickly set her away from him.
“I don’t need a bandage for what I’m feeling right now. I want a commitment. If you can forgive my walking away from you, knowing I was wrong, I want us to have a life together. I may or may not go overseas on duty again. more than likely I won’t, but if I do, I want to come home to you.”
“It’s what I want, too. More than anything, I want to be with you.”
“Have you forgiven me?”
“Yes. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have visited you in the hospital the first time.”
“I thought as much, and prayed that was so.” He poured them each a glass of champagne.
She tilted hers. “Here’s to us, General Wainwright.”
“Here’s to us, woman of my heart.” She took a sip and smiled in that special way she had when he pleased her. Oblivious to anything else, including convention about such things, he picked her up and ran up the stairs, like a homing pigeon, straight to her bedroom.
“If I have to look at you in that thing one more minute, I’ll be fit for an asylum. Do you love me?”
She had his tie off his neck and most of the buttons on his shirt open. Her palm skimmed his chest, pausing to tease his pectorals. Suddenly, she leaned forward, traced his left pectoral with her tongue and then sucked it into her mouth. He unbuttoned his shirt cuff, and she peeled off his shirt, her mouth still teasing his pectoral and playing havoc with his nervous system.
“How do you get out of this thing?” he asked about her dress, when he sensed that if he didn’t call her off it would be over before it started.
“Just slip it on down,” she murmured without moving her mouth from his chest. “Audrey, honey, baby, you’ll—”
“I’ll what?” she asked, unzipping his trousers and slipping them down, along with his G-string.
He lifted her to her feet the minute before she took him into her mouth. “Listen, baby, that’s a feeling I love, but not right now. I’d be gone in a second.”
He threw back the covers and lay her on the yellow satin sheet. Looking down at her full breasts with their erect nipples, he nearly lost it. She reached out her hand, urged him closer to her, and wrapped her arms around his buttocks.
“I want to kiss you.”
He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth as she loved him, and a bloodcurdling sensation plowed through him, kicking his heart into runaway palpitations. Sweat poured from every pore of his body as he savored the sweet sensation of having her possess him completely. He couldn’t let her take him all the way, much as he’d enjoy it; he didn’t want that with her. Summoning all of his willpower, he set her from him, climbed in beside her and wrapped her in his arms.
* * *
She knew he wouldn’t be rushed, but she’d thought of nothing else since she’d taken him home earlier that day. She opened her arms and he lowered himself into them, the hairs on his chest teasing her breasts. His lips adored her eyes and every part of her face. Why didn’t he kiss her? His tongue traced the seam of her lips and at last she had him inside of her, searching, probing and promising. She grabbed his hand and squeezed her left breast with it.
“You know what I want,” she whispered.
“Tell me. I want you to tell me.”
“I want your mouth on me. On my breast.” He nipped an areola and then sucked it into his mouth, pulling, tugging and sucking until she cried out. He kissed her belly and the inside of her thighs, and she began to rock beneath him, impatient for the pleasure to come. Seconds later, the warm thrust of his tongue brought a keening cry from her.
“Please!” she cried. “I’ll go crazy if you don’t get inside of me.”
“I will. Just let me have you like this.” He kissed, teased and sucked until she rocked upward to meet his rapacious mouth, twisting and turning until he moved up her body and she felt the liquid of love flow from her.
Burning with the fire in her loins, she sheathed him and brought him to her lovers’ gate; he plunged into her. Home. At last he was at home within her where he belonged.
“You okay?” he asked her. She nodded, and he began to move. Almost at once the heat seared the bottom of her feet, and the squeezing, pumping and pulsating began inside of her. He increased the pace. Wildly, like a man out of control, he rode her. And she felt him in every muscle, sinew, artery and vein. He was all over her, stroking her with deadly accuracy, his power unleashed.
“Honey, this is terrible. I can’t... I want to burst wide open.”
“You will. Believe me, you will.”
He stroked furiously, and all of a sudden she began to erupt. Dying, oh Lord, she was dying, flying. Falling. A scream tore from her lips. “I can’t stand it! I love you. Honey, I love you so much.”
Shattered by the spasms, the quaking that overtook her body, he surrendered and poured into her the essence of life, shouting his love for her. “You’re mine! My life. Everything to me.”
* * *
They lay for a long time without speaking. Then he asked her, “How do you feel?”
“Like a sated little night cat,” she said, wondering where she got that idea. “I feel great. What about you?”
Flying High Page 27