Golden Hour (Crescent City)

by Campbell Reinhardt

  Well, it’s the “full” wildly abridged, glossed-over story, but I want Elise to know and accept the general truth. Not be disgusted with me over the dirty details.

  “That’s…” She takes a deep breath and looks me in the eye. “Knowing you now, I never would have guessed you came from that kind of hell. You turned out to be an amazing man. You should send Judge Allen a fruit basket.”

  We smile at each other, and I drag her chair closer. “That may just be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” I lean over and kiss her, loving her sexy little moan when I pull back. “I think I will send him one. Or a box of cigars. Enough sad sack stories for one day. How are you doing?”

  “Well, I had a wonderful patient named Mr. Montgomery who has been flirting shamelessly with me all day,” she says, batting her lashes and taking a sip of her now cold coffee.

  “Really? Who is this Montgomery and where is his room so I can administer some Dilaudid to his IV?” I ask, popping a bite of scone in my mouth.

  “I wouldn’t bother trying, Caleb. He’s a World War II vet. He has a Purple Heart. And he sings like an angel. He sang me ‘Jolie Blonde’ at my request, and he told me he can play a mean accordion. He said it would be worth breaking his other hip if it meant he could drag his accordion in and play for me.” She puts a hand on my thigh under the table and leans close.

  “Well, hell. You know I’m crazy about you, but I know when I’m beat.” I thread my fingers through hers. “Except…”

  “What is it?” she asks, her eyes dancing.

  “My grandpa taught me the accordion. I don’t make that public knowledge, but I might be willing to pull it out if you think it will help you forget about this Montgomery fool,” I warn.

  She tugs my face close and shakes her head. “You’re an amazing guy, Caleb Warren.”

  I kiss her once, twice, and try to pull back. We are in public. But the taste of her is addictive, and it’s getting more so for me the longer I know her. I would never push her into something she wasn’t ready for, but I feel like we’re both ready...for something I can’t think about without feeling a little crazy.

  She puts her hands on my chest and blows out a long breath. “Whoa. Oh, damn! I wasn’t watching the time.” She jumps up and grabs her purse, starts to leave, then comes back and kisses me again, slow and sweet. “Mmm. When’s your next day off?”

  “Not till Saturday,” I say, tugging her down for one more kiss.

  “We should hang out. If you want.” She chews on her lip.

  “Are you outta your mind? Of course I want to hang out. Unless Mr. Montgomery is taking you out?” I grin at her.

  “Nah. Sadly, I’m going to give him one last sponge bath, then he’s going home later today. And I hear he was flirting like mad with Zoe. He’s a player.” She glances at her watch, then climbs over the chair to kiss me again, harder and deeper than we should when we’ve got no way to take it further.

  Or maybe that’s exactly why she does it.

  “Okay. Think about Saturday,” she says, smiling so wide, it has to hurt.

  “Will do. Try not to break too many hearts.” I resist the urge to follow her to the door like a puppy.

  She comes back one more time. I’m laughing out loud by now. “Can’t get enough?” I tease.

  She kisses me and whispers, “Thank you. For telling me. You’re...I can’t wait to see you again.”

  And then she’s darting out the door, on her way back to the hospital. And I’m left thinking about how quickly life can get turned upside down an inside out. And how lucky I am that she was the one to jump in my way and lead me off my self-destructive path and onto a good one. One worth living for.

  “I’ve never seen one of these up close,” I say, holding Caleb’s hand and dragging him toward the massive balloons.

  Caleb and I decided to get out of New Orleans on our next day off, so we drove to Baton Rouge for the day to check out the Hot Air Balloon Festival.

  Or I dragged him for the day. I think he would have been more than ready to spend the day inside. Together. And a big, turned-on, crazy part of me wants that. So badly.

  But another part of me is greedy to just be with him. To talk and laugh and explore together. Since the day we first met, he’s been nothing like I expected, and I’ve been shocked and surprised by him over and over again.

  “I never have either.” He walks over to one of the balloons, an enormous multi-colored beauty that reminds me of Gran’s garden at the peak of spring. Or maybe anything gorgeous and full of color is reminding me of Gran because I miss her so damn much.

  “Can we ride it?” I ask the woman standing near it.

  “Sorry, hon. This one isn’t set up yet, but I think Harold is ready.” She flashes a grin, puts her hands around her mouth and hollers, “Harold!”

  “Eh?” A man who looks like Rumpelstiltskin’s grandfather hobbles around the side of a balloon as blue as Caleb’s eyes. “What is it, Maggie?” He cups a hand behind his enormous ears.

  “These young’uns want a ride!” she screams. “Do you have room?”

  He looks around at the sparse crowds. The festival is just opening. “I need to do a test flight. I guess I can take these two along.” He rubs his hands together and cackles.

  Caleb’s fingers grab onto my arm hard, and he tugs me aside, shaking his head. “Uh, no way.”

  “Yes way,” I say with a laugh. “C’mon. It’ll be fun.”

  “No, it will be dangerous. Harold just walked into the basket. Like, I think he might be blind.” He nods his head at Harold, who is kind of feeling around suspiciously. Caleb tugs my arm. “C’mon, I saw a sign for dump cake up front. I’ll buy you a piece.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “Dump cake?”

  “You never had dump cake?” He shakes his head and sighs. “Well, we need to remedy that. Now. Let’s go.”

  “Almost ready, kids!” Harold bellows. “C’mon. I won’t bite. I’ll let you have this ride for half-price, just in case the balloon has a hole and we all fall down.” Harold holds one hand high above the other and claps them together, laughing like a loon when Caleb jumps out of his skin.

  “He’s blind and crazy,” Caleb says, speaking through his teeth like a ventriloquist. “Let’s just go.”

  “No!” I drag him to Harold’s balloon. “It’s half-price. That’s a great deal.”

  “No, it’s not. Not if Harold crashes the balloon. Then we paid half price to plummet to our death. That’s a very, very bad deal, Elise.” Caleb is actually digging his heels into the grass, making it difficult for me to drag him over.

  I’m used to deadlifting patients, though, and I’m way stronger than I look. “Don’t be such a chicken. This is an adventure.”

  “Dump cake is an adventure. For your taste buds. Elise, please, think about this,” Caleb begs, but I ignore him, smile sweetly as Harold helps me into the basket, and look expectantly at Caleb as Harold holds a gnarled hand out.

  I’m not sure how much Harold tells Caleb, but I do hear Caleb yell, “What? That’s half price? Because it sounds like highway robbery to me.” Harold just keeps holding his hand out without flinching, and Caleb slaps a few bills into it. He stalks across the basket to me and grumbles, “Lucky thing I stopped at the damn ATM this morning. You’re bankrupting me, woman.”

  “I’ll buy the dump cake and beer when we get down,” I promise.

  “If we get down,” Caleb says, looking over the basket with quick, nervous eyes.

  “Harold, there are some strong winds coming in!” Maggie yells from across the lot.

  “What’s that, hon?” Harold asks, cupping both hands behind his ears.

  I giggle because he really does look like some adorable elf. Caleb scowls and grips the side of the basket.

  “Winds!” Maggie yells, louder this time.

  Harold leans forward and listens as she yells one more time, so loud I’m pretty sure people in the next county hear. Harold waves a dismissive hand and hops into the
balloon. “She’s got no volume, that Maggie. I love her, but she needs to speak up. This is a loud business.”

  Caleb’s eyes are wide and his mouth is set in a pinched line. I lean over the basket, looking down as Harold fiddles with the mechanisms. “Gonna get loud!” he warns.

  “If he thinks it’s loud, we’ll probably all be deaf by the time this is over,” Caleb gripes.

  I’m about to point out that he’s supposed to be Orleans Parish’s resident bad ass when the burner fires up and we start to rise. For the first few minutes, as we’re floating higher, Caleb glances over the side nervously. Once we’re soaring high above the grounds, he goes pale and looks like he might pass out.

  “Caleb? Caleb!” I cry when I see his face go flush and several drops of sweat gather on his forehead. “Sit down!”

  There’s plenty of room in the basket, and Caleb sinks low, shaking his head. “It’s fine. It is. I just...I have a hard time...with heights.”

  I stare down at him, his head between his knees, taking deep, slow breaths. I press a hand to his chest and feel the rapid beat of his heart.

  “Caleb, if you’re afraid of heights, why the hell did we come to a hot air balloon festival?” I ask over the roar of the flame.

  He rolls his head back, letting it thump on the basket. He tries to smile, but it looks like he’s attempting to keep from puking.

  Is there such a thing as air sickness?

  “I thought we’d be looking at hot air balloons,” he says, then presses his hand over mine. His heart rate speeds up. “And you seemed so excited about the whole thing, I didn’t have it in me to break your heart.”

  “But there was a Tennessee Williams Festival a county over,” I say, brushing his dark hair off his forehead as I bite back a laugh.

  He grimaces. “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof?”

  I nod.

  “Ugh. I had to do the lights for my high school’s production after I set a very small fire in the boiler room. I’d rather parachute out of this balloon than go to a Tennessee Williams festival.” He cups a hand under my chin and grins. “Anyway, someone told me I need to stop being such a coward. How bad could a few minutes in a balloon be?”

  I decide not to tell Caleb that the sign advertised one hour rides. Maybe Harold will give us half time for half price. Speaking of Harold, he’s looking at Caleb with barely disguised disgust as he tinkers with the equipment.

  “I see him looking at me like I’m some pathetic man-baby,” Caleb gripes, reaching up to grab the side of the basket. “Come on and tell me I’m not gonna die while we look over the side of this thing.”

  I help him stand and can feel him shaking next to me. He puts an arm around my shoulder. His squeeze is panicked and about as tight as a starved boa constrictor’s. “You okay?” I ask, taking a second to soak in the rolling green underneath us.

  There’s something unbelievably peaceful about being in this no man’s land that’s somewhere between sky and earth.

  Unless you have a debilitating fear of heights. In which case, you just cling to the edge of the basket for dear life and keep your eyes screwed shut. It would probably be much easier if the ride was smooth and quiet, but there are random blasts from the burner and so many jolts and jerks from that wind Maggie warned us about.

  Harold lets out a long, sharp whistle. “Shoot, that’s one heck of a wind!” he cries. “Best tell Maggie when we get down.”

  “I’ve never wanted to pass out more in my life,” Caleb groans. “How the hell long have we been up here?”

  I check my watch and neglect to answer. Funny how long ten minutes can feel when you’re living your own personal version of hell.

  “I think you need distraction,” I say with the determined cheer my profession has taught me to harness. “Let’s talk about...something.”

  The basket lurches and Caleb crushes me closer. “Fine. Okay. What should we talk about?” he says between clenched teeth.

  “Anything. You pick,” I offer.

  “Okay.” He opens one eye and lets out a quick breath. “I meant to ask you earlier...my lease is up next month.”

  “Oh.” I suddenly feel a little of the shakiness I know he must be experiencing. “Are you renewing?”

  “That dump is where I crawled to when I thought all I wanted to do was drink myself into early liver damage,” he says shakily. “Now that I’ve had this crazy girl telling me I should branch out and do things beyond getting drunk in my backyard, I was thinking about making a move.”

  “A move?” I repeat, my head light.

  He turns so his mouth is close to my ear. “Closer to the hospital. Still out in the country, but somewhere a little less isolated. The thing is, I’m not sure about handling rent in that area on my own. And I know your living situation. There’s no way that’s working for you. Now that Gran isn’t living there anymore, your parents could get a renter.” He attempts a grin. “If they accept the fact that no other renter would put up with them keeping tabs and walking in uninvited.”

  “Are you…” The balloon bobs up and down, and Caleb wraps both arms around me before he sinks down into the basket.

  I’m tangled around him, my face so close to his, I can feel his smile before I have a chance to see it. He laughs weakly. “Fuck my pride. Harold can laugh his wrinkled ass off. I need a break.”

  I lean my forehead to his, my brain buzzing. “Caleb? Are you asking me to...to move in with you?”

  “It’s too soon, I know that,” he says. “I swear, I don’t mean this as weird as it sounds. It’s more of roommate situation, you know? It’ll help both of us. It’s logical...it makes sense.” He’s rattling off dozens of reasons as he wrings his hands together. “I need to find a new place, you need a place where your parents aren’t looking in on you...and…”

  I loop my arms around the back of his neck, “Are you asking because you think we aren’t going to make it back to the ground?” I snicker.

  “See, you’re making a joke out of it—”

  “It is too soon. It’s crazy. I love it.”

  “You should come in,” she says. My truck rattles to a stop outside of her parents’ place. All the lights are dark. The entire street is quiet, apart from the cicadas chirping in the trees.

  “You sure?” I ask, my voice feeling like the loudest sound in the night.

  She turns in the seat and looks at me. I don’t think she realizes how sexy her smile is. “You’re not going to get me in trouble, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m not twelve. I’m allowed to have, um, friends over, Caleb.” She giggles, probably still goofy from the beers she drank by my side after that scary as shit balloon landed. “After all, we’re about to be roommates.”

  “You sure? It’s—” We stopped and ate on the way back from Baton Rouge, and now it’s late. Really late, especially for people who have to work in the morning.

  Late enough that ‘coming in’ might very well mean ‘not leaving.’

  “I want you to come in.” She unhooks her seatbelt and reaches for me. It starts as a fairly innocent kiss, but, before I know it, I’ve dragged her onto my lap. I kiss her up and down her neck and pull back, stopping so I can breathe and calm down.

  She nips at my lips and starts it up before I’m ready. “Elise, don’t.” I take her wrists in my hands and push her back gently.

  “Do you not want to…?” she asks, trailing off.

  “I do!” I say with way too much excitement. I tone it back. “I do. But not till we’re both ready. I know I asked you about rooming with me. But I don’t want you to think—I would never expect you to—” I rub a hand over my face. “Damn! I have no clue what I’m saying. Trying to say. Damnit.”

  Elise takes my face in her hands. “I know what you’re trying to say. And I love that you’re being so careful. But this is what I’m saying: I want you to come in to my place. It’s late. I don’t expect you to leave. And I’m not being pressured or rushed. Not at all.” She kisses me.

  I don’t say ano
ther word, because I’m hell bent on not screwing this up.

  I follow her to her place, watching as she slides the key in her door and leads me into the living room. She doesn’t flip on any lights as she throws her sweater on a chair. In the dim light, I can see a neat little place, feminine and inviting. The kind of place I would have expected as I got to know Elise better.

  “Do you need a drink?” she asks, her voice nervous.

  I shake my head and move to take her in my arms.

  “Do you need anything?” She balls her hands into my shirt and closes her eyes.

  “I do.” When she looks up, I kiss her until she moans, then pull away and tell her, “I need you.”

  Her breath hitches. She takes me by the hand and leads me to her bedroom. The moon is shining in her window, making everything look washed in silver light. We both stand next to the bed. She starts to undo the tie on her dress, but her fingers shake so badly, she winds up knotting it.

  I watch her tug at it once, twice, then bite her lip and shake her head. She blinks hard.

  “Hey.” I grab her fingertips and run my thumbs over them. “You okay?”

  “My dress is...stupid,” she says, her voice damp.

  “Do you want my help?” She nods and I sit on the bed. She sits next to me. I pull at the knot and loosen it. When it’s untied, I pull back, just looking at her.

  Damn she’s gorgeous. Her eyes, big and brown, look pitch black in the dark. Her skin glows, and the shadows in the room accent the angles of her face, making her look delicate. The way I thought of her when we first met, before I saw how resilient and brave she really is.

  “What are you thinking?” she asks in a whisper.

  “I’m thinking of how gorgeous you are. How I couldn’t make up enough excuses to try to see you when we first met. And how happy I am that I can just ask you now, and if you say ‘yes’ we get to spend whole days together.” I trace my fingers down her arm. She shivers. “What are you thinking?”