Lost Yesterday

by Jenny Lykins

  When her feet touched the floor she leaned back, sinking into the inviting mattress and pulling him down with her. He didn't try to speak, didn't ask her any questions, and she offered none of her own.

  What she offered was enough love for two men - for one flesh and blood man who could love her back, and one beautiful spirit who had loved her enough to let her go.

  Her eyes stung at the memory of Ryan's face, but she blinked away the pain.

  With a mixture of joy and sadness, she turned her attention to the soft whispers and gentle caresses of her beloved husband.

  ******

  The morning of the wedding dawned with a flawless, robin's egg sky and crystal clear air that held not a trace of Memphis humidity.

  Flowers were freshly picked and arranged, hams were baked beside breads and pies, wedding attire was given a final smoothing with the iron. Ambrose supervised the setting up of chairs and tables outside with his usual long-suffering stoicism. Emmaletta shooed everyone out of her kitchen and threatened to quit if Miz Lucille came back in. Lucille turned her attention to Katie and tried to keep her occupied while a hired girl came and tortured Katie's silky hair into hundreds of corkscrew curls. Puffy and Angel were locked in the barn so as not to add to the general confusion. Everything went as expected until Katie looked up at Lucille and asked, "Where's Mama and Papa?"

  Mamie was summoned to go in search of the errant bride and groom and to bully them into readiness if they were dilly-dallying the morning away. What she found, when she finally thought to see if they had possibly overslept, was a scene that brought a rosy hue even to the coffee-colored cheeks of that seasoned servant.

  She found an exhausted couple, their bare bodies wrapped in a tangle of arms and legs and mahogany hair atop a mound of bedding that looked as if it had exploded off the bed. The couple slept like the dead. She tried slamming the door to wake them, but when she peeped back into the room, all they'd done was shift their hands to places so that she was darn sure she wasn't steppin' foot back in that room until they were good and awake.

  Only one thing left to do.

  Puffy and Angel rocketed into the room with all the calm of a raging typhoon. In a blur of black and gold bodies and clicking toenails, they circled the room once before leaping dead center into the bed of the sleeping couple.

  Marin woke to the dubious pleasure of having her face liberally washed by a lolling, wet tongue and alternately dried by the blast of dog breath. Hunter seemed to emerge from his coma with the black fur of Angel scraping along the stubble of his chin just moments before she dropped her considerable weight to his chest and curled into a roaring ball.

  Marin cringed at the sight of the open door. She let out her breath when she saw no sign of Katie or Mamie, or worse, Lucille. She just hoped fervently that the door had not stood open all night.

  Hunter obviously read her thoughts and smiled with unconcerned lust. She shoved Puffy off her legs, dragged a corner of the sheet over their bodies, then snuggled against her husband. A switching black tail made contact with her nose. The next instant an indignant Angel joined Puffy at their feet.

  The four of them lay quietly for several minutes, then Hunter rubbed his prickly jaw against the top of Marin's head.

  "That was some night, huh?"

  She snuggled closer and nodded against his shoulder.

  "I came back to apologize for...I'd had too much whiskey. When I came in you were kneeling in the middle of the floor, sobbing, and I couldn't get you to stop. You weren't even aware I was there, Marin. I put you in bed and tried to calm you, but I couldn't get through to you."

  Marin was glad he couldn't see her eyes as she relived her last moments with Ryan. When she spoke, her voice was so raspy it sounded like a whisper.

  "I don't remember you being here."

  Neither spoke for several seconds. When she felt the pain in her eyes was gone, Marin raised her head and looked at Hunter. Neither spoke as he apologized with his eyes for the weeks he'd shunned her. She accepted with feathery kisses along his jaw, praying he would ask no more questions about Ryan. She would never betray Ryan's memory.

  "Lordy, lordy! Don't you rabbits ever stop? You chilluns gots a weddin' to go to!" Mamie puffed her way into the room, ignoring the flashes of bare skin, the soles of her slippers slapping against her heels. She threw back the heavy curtains to the brilliance of a mid-morning sun.

  Marin and Hunter both groaned, squeezing their eyes shut and fending off the light with protective forearms.

  "There you are!" Lucille rounded the door to the bedchamber. "There are guests coming up the drive and you haven't even - " she stopped short at the sight of the two bodies tangled with the covers. Unruffled, her gaze swept Marin's length, taking in bare shoulders and feet that peeped from beneath the blanket. Her lips went into an immediate purse.

  "Do you need some help getting dressed, Marin?" she asked in her best steam-roller voice. "Because the guests are beginning to arrive." Lucille acted as if she might haul Marin from the bed and dress her herself. "Hunter, leave your bride alone for once and get yourself dressed." Her gaze slid to the pair of shiny Hessians toppled beside the bed. "And you are not wearing those boots to get married in."

  Lucille left the room like a drill sergeant who had no doubt her orders would be followed while Mamie bustled about, chuckling softly.

  Hunter kissed the tip of Marin's nose, rolled from the bed wrapped in the blanket like Julius Caesar, then scooped his boots off the floor.

  "See you at the altar," he said in a voice husky with promise. He left the room grinning from ear to ear.

  Excitement exploded like fireworks in Marin. Hunter's ghost didn't have to be old! She was getting married - again!

  She slipped into a record breaking bath and was toweling dry in less than a minute. Layers of cotton and silk and lace slipped over her perfumed skin before the task of dressing her hair. Mamie sculpted the shiny auburn tresses with practiced deftness and was putting the finishing touches on her creation when Hunter stepped back into the room.

  "Is it bad luck?" he asked as he slipped inside and leaned against the door in his wedding attire, his booted feet crossed at the ankles and a seductive smile on his lips.

  "Mistah Hunter! You polecat! You knows it's bad luck! Now you gets on out'n here!"

  "I don't believe I will, Mamie." He shoved off the door and propelled the hefty maid out of it. "I believe I am already wed, so therefore this doesn't count. And I believe I am going to help my bride finish dressing."

  Mamie squawked when he closed the door in her face and turned the key.

  "I lied about seeing you at the alter," he confessed with a bone-melting grin. His twin dimples caused Marin's stomach to take a ferris wheel ride.

  She turned her back to him and looked at his reflection in the mirror.

  "I have to warn you, Hunter, if you come any closer we might be late for our own wedding."

  He walked across the room toward her, scooping up the ivory, silk wedding dress on the way.

  "What if I promise to behave myself?"

  Marin turned and looked up at him through her lashes.

  "Can you promise to make me behave?"

  Hunter's only reaction was to bend and capture her lips with his. He kissed her lazily, as if they had all the time in the world. "Never," he murmured against her mouth. "I'd be a fool to try."

  A brisk knock sounded on the door.

  "Hunter? Marin? We are nearly ready for you." Lucille's muffled voice brooked no nonsense.

  Hunter blew out a frustrated sigh. "Let us do this thing. The sooner we get it over with, the sooner we can be alone."

  He slid the cloud of silk over her head with expert finesse. When she settled the bodice into place he went to work on the dozens of tiny buttons.

  His fingers slowed, then stopped working their way up the back of her gown. He pulled her against his chest and nuzzled her neck. His breath ghosted across her ear as he rained kisses along her jaw.

/>   Marin sighed and tilted her head back against his solid, warm chest. Life would be perfect now if he would only believe her about being from the future. Would he ever believe her? Could she blame him if he didn't?

  Another rap on the door preceded the no nonsense voice again.

  "You two stop what you're doing right now! You'll have time for that later. Benjamin Hunter Pierce, I want you downstairs this instant. And you'd better not be wearing those boots."

  Hunter nearly choked on his laughter. He buttoned the last two buttons and dropped a kiss on the back of Marin's neck.

  "She'll give us no peace until this is done. God save us from her next idea."

  He turned her by her shoulders and smiled as he took in the sight of her.

  "Lord, but you are lovely."

  *******

  The "proper" wedding Lucille had so desired backfired like an antique jalopy.

  When Marin appeared at the top of the stairs, Katie wasn't there to do her designated job, that of scattering the rose petals daintily in Marin's path. The pianist took Marin's appearance as her cue and began playing too soon. Everyone turned their gazes to the stairway just as Katie appeared with muddy cat tacks and a big, brown smear on the front of her pale pink dimity. Lucille, trying to brush the dirt away with as much dignity as possible, hit the basket of rose petals and sent it bouncing down the stairs, the petals exploding from the basket on the first bounce. The minister developed a sneezing fit - he insisted it was from cat dander - and Marin was wed to Hunter between bouts of clerical sneezes. Katie fidgeted through the closing prayer, then announced to no one in particular that she had to go to the outhouse.

  Lucille had done an admirable job of remaining calm throughout the destruction of her plans, but when the wedding party emerged onto the front lawn to the sight of Puffy happily devouring the wedding cake, she lost it. Personally, Marin thought the sight of Lucille chasing Puffy across the lawn with a silver serving spoon was much more entertaining than watching her and Hunter feed cake to each other.

  In the end Lucille had actually been seen grudgingly smiling over the whole, ridiculous fiasco. The general consensus was that the guests enjoyed the impromptu entertainment much more than the normally solemn ceremony.

  Hunter and Marin waved off their last guests in the orange glow of a dying sun. Every member of the household had melted away to parts unknown, leaving Marin and Hunter blessedly alone.

  Marin took the deepest breath she could manage in the confines of her corset and turned back to the house with Hunter by her side.

  She couldn't help but feel a touch of sadness. She couldn't help but remember her first wedding day, with Ryan. Their lives together had been much too brief, cut short before their love had fully blossomed. But now she had Hunter, and she'd made a promise she would love him with as much passion as she'd loved Ryan.

  "There is a gift in the parlor for us," Hunter said upon stepping into the entry hall. "Shall we open it now?"

  Marin was exhausted from their long night of lovemaking and her last encounter with Ryan. All she really wanted to do was get out of her corset and take some deep breaths. But she'd get this last task behind her before calling it a day.

  She walked ahead of Hunter into the parlor, scanning the tables for the gift.

  "Where is..."

  Suddenly her heart skipped a beat and she forgot to breathe. She stood absolutely still, afraid to move or blink.

  "Oh my God, Hunter! Do you see? Tell me you can see!"

  Hunter could only nod, his "Yes" barely audible.

  Reflected in the massive, silvered pier glass was not the image of his tiny, auburn-haired bride, breath-taking in her ivory wedding finery. Instead, there stood a tall, gray-eyed beauty with sun-streaked hair, wearing a filmy, flowered, calf-length skirt and a clingy, yellow top.

  Marin turned to Hunter and held out her trembling hand. He took it, hypnotically twining his fingers in hers and stepping to her side. He stared at the mirror in awe. Without breaking his gaze he whispered, "I believe you."

  Dawning acknowledgement swirled into his mind as layers of truth opened up to him. He remembered the little boy of ten who had become so ill he was given up for dead. He remembered the confusion and the blank spaces where there should have been memories when he came out of his coma.

  Marin looked into his face and then into the mirror. Her gasp of shock was followed by an "Ohhhh" of absolute exaltation.

  Beside his bride, beside the woman with huge gray eyes and twentieth century clothes, stood her groom. But this groom wore the green, zippered flight suit of a fighter pilot, his white, visored helmet replaced the top hat in his hands. His grin spanned one hundred and twenty years when he spoke.

  "I believe you now, Fireball."

  ###

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Originally from West Virginia, Jenny now lives in western Tennessee with her husband, along with the Goddess of the Universe (a cranky old “kitten” named Mabes), and two Samoyed “puppies” named Czar Nicholas and Alexandra, but they answer to Czar and Lexxie, Trouble and Chaos, Dumb and Dumber…you get the picture.

  DISCOVER OTHER TITLES BY JENNY LYKINS AT SMASHWORDS.COM:

  Spirit of the Ruins)

  The Ghost of Christmas Present

  Echoes of Tomorrow

  Waiting for Yesterday

  Distant Dreams

  River of Dreams