Pink Neon Dreams
Page 23
“I told you that you wouldn’t,” Luz said. “And your sisters, their families, and Tomas too are coming later to see you. We’re going to have a fiesta when they do. If you want you can come home to Texas to recover.”
Home meant one thing to him now. Daniel met Cecily’s dark eyes and she nodded.
“Thanks, Mama,” he said. “But I think I’ll heal just fine here, but we’ll come back for the fiesta. And I’m glad you came, you and Michael. It means everything.”
Luz smiled. “We’re family. And now we’re going to let you rest awhile. You look tired.”
“You’re not going back to Texas yet?”
“No,” she said. “Soon but not yet. Te amo, mi hijo.”
With another quick kiss, she left, Michael with her, leaving Andrew Martin. His boss approached the bed, but he didn’t shake hands and he sure as hell didn’t offer a kiss. “I won’t stay long,” Martin said. “I just wanted to tell you what good work you did and express how glad the bureau is you’ll recover. And, I wanted to apologize for the attitude toward Ms. Brown and Frank Tillman’s actions. He acted out of line and I’m sorry.”
“De nada,” Daniel said. “Thank you.”
Fatigue rushed over him with the force of a quarterback making the winning touchdown and he sighed.
Cecily seemed to notice. “Thanks,” she told Martin. “I appreciate all you’ve done.”
When no one remained but Cecily, he sighed, loud and long. “Are you okay, sugar?” she asked as she dropped the rails on the hospital bed to sit facing him. She smoothed a few stray hairs back from his forehead.
“I’m just tired,” he said. “And thirsty.”
She poured water for him again and he sipped it. Then he slept, soothed by her presence and secure in their love.
****
Two weeks later….
Once she had him home, she hovered worse than a news helicopter over a traffic jam. Cecily longed to pamper Daniel, to cosset him and spoil him, all because he’d scared years off her life when she saw him pitch to the floor, twice shot and bleeding hard. If he’d died…she would begin to think and then wouldn’t be unable to complete it because it was too horrible to contemplate. She preferred not to think about the hectic moments after or how she knelt on the floor beside him, screaming his name. The hours spent waiting at the hospital while the staff stabilized him and then performed surgery, the endless time spent outside ICU so she could visit for short minutes each hour, and the long days as he improved were difficult. Although she’d put on a brave face and smile for Daniel, Cecily trembled inside, still worried and afraid to believe he survived.
After he shared his near death experience with her, she freaked out even more. Cecily tried to get him to rest in bed once he arrived at her house after being released, but he refused. Daniel preferred sprawling on the couch. She plumped pillows for him and offered blankets even though temperatures hit record highs for early September. Cecily opened cans of soup and made gourmet sandwiches, baked cakes, cookies, and brownies in a cooking frenzy. If he asked for anything, she stumbled over her own feet in a rush to provide it and each time he got up to totter to the bathroom, she insisted on walking beside him in case he should fall.
By noon on the second day after he came home, Daniel became silent. He stared at the television with a pained expression and each time he visited the bathroom, he shut the door and stayed awhile. Worried almost sick, Cecily waited until he settled back onto the sofa, seated and not prone, and said, “Sugar, are you feeling worse? You’re so quiet.”
Daniel patted the cushion beside him. “Sit down, querida, we need to talk.”
Her concerns raged out of control. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” he said. “I’m doing very well, much better. I feel good, just a little weak and there’s some pain, but it’s to be expected. Please, sit down so I can say this.”
Cecily sank onto the floor at his feet and stared up at him, heart racing. “What is it?”
“I’m not made out of glass,” he said, his tone gentle and kind. “I won’t break and you’re not going to hurt me. I’m not a baby, either. I love you and I know you love me. And I know you were scared when I got shot. But you have to let go of the fear. If you don’t, it’s going to eat you up. I understand you want to take care of me, querida, and I like it, sometimes. I like it when you want to comb my hair or make food I love, but it’s too much.”
Her first response was hurt, followed by irritation, but she listened and by the time he finished, she understood the sense of his words. Cecily leaned against his right thigh and put her head in his lap. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just still shake all over when I think about what could’ve happened.”
“But it didn’t,” he said. “Let the past go—live in the present with me so we can have a future.” He placed his hand on the back of her head, steady and calm. “Look at me, Cecily.”
She did as he asked. “What is it?”
“I have two things I want to ask you, querida,” he said. “First, in a minute after I ask the other question, will you make love with me? I know I have to be careful, but there’s no reason why we can’t. I need you and I want you.”
God, she’d missed his body and their coming together with wild heat and light. Some of the tension she’d carried lessened as she smiled. “Sure, sugar, I’d like to, very much.”
“Good,” he said. “Then there’s the other thing.”
He wore such a serious expression she wondered what might be on his mind. If he says we need space, if he wants to get a place of his own, I guess I’ll fake a smile and say ‘okay’. I won’t like it, but I’ll do anything so I don’t lose him. “What’s that?”
Daniel reached into the pocket of his sweatpants and pulled out a creased, worn envelope. “Mama brought this when they came up after I got hurt,” he said. “She thought I might need it and I do.”
Puzzled, Cecily waited. “What is it?”
He handed it to her. “She thought you might like to have it, querida. Open it.”
Her fingers fumbled as she unfolded the flap of the tattered envelope. A heavy silver ring dropped into her hand and she examined it. A silver braid dominated the center flanked by solid silver bands on either side. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “I like the quiet simplicity of it. Why didn’t Luz give it to me herself?”
“Because she can’t,” Daniel said. “She gave it to me, querida.”
“Why?” She must be missing something here because none of it made any sense.
Daniel laughed, low and sweet. “This is about as backwards as we could get, you kneeling, me sitting here, but what the hell—I’ll ask anyway. Querida, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
His words filtered into her brain and when she realized what he’d said, she gazed at him, then the ring between her fingers. “Do you mean it?” she asked.
With a half-frown, he nodded. “I’m not asking just for fun,” he said. “Will you?”
“Oh, God, yes, sugar,” she said. “It’s a wedding ring, then?”
“Yeah,” Daniel answered. “It’s the one my daddy gave mama when they were married. She’s worn it ever since—until she took it off her hand to give to me before Michael took her back to El Paso. This envelope, well, it’s the one my daddy carried in his pocket with the ring until he proposed to mama. It’s not fancy, but I thought you might have had enough of diamonds and jewels. I didn’t buy you an engagement ring for the same reason. But if you want one—”
“I don’t,” she said. Happiness erupted within her. “I’ve had all that stuff. This is real.”
His face became tender as he slid it onto her ring finger. “Then wear it for now as a promise,” he said. “And we’ll get married in El Paso at the fiesta. It’s what Mama planned all the time, if it’s okay.”
“It’s perfect.” She’d dreamed of three things, a man who’d love her, a big family to be part of, and owning her own boutique. Dreams, she thought, could
come true. “I’d love that.”
“Good,” he said. “But right now I’d rather you love me.”
Daniel grasped her left hand with the silver ring and pulled her to her feet. He stood and wrapped his arms around her, the first full embrace he’d given since he left Texas. Cecily hugged him, careful to favor his side wound and left shoulder. “Kiss me, sugar,” she said.
Their mouths came together, two halves of a whole and liquid fire burned through her veins. Desire consumed them and without bothering to move into the bedroom, he took her on the couch, slow and complete. After, they lay together on the couch, spooned against each other and she sang accapella, slow and low, “Que sera, sera, whatever will be, will be, the future’s not ours to see, Que sera, sera.”
He silenced her with his mouth. “Oh, but it is ours, querida,” he said.
“And what do you see, sugar?” she asked, lazy and filled with love.
“Happiness,” he said. “And life together, always.”
“That’s good enough for me,” Cecily said and put her hand against his chest. She liked the weight of the silver ring on her finger, solid and real, lasting as their love.
The End
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