Saving Evangeline

by Nancee Cain

  He pulls away and looks into my eyes.

  “Don’t what? Step on your feet? Let me lead, then,” he teases, but his strained smile tells no lies. He’s struggling, too.

  “No. Please…just don’t forget me,” I whisper. His face blurs with my unshed tears.

  He rests his forehead against mine, pulling me closer as he peers into my eyes. Fire burns there and I know I’m not imagining it. “Never,” he rasps. “I love you, Evangeline.”

  The dam on my emotions breaks loose, and I weep into his shirt as he holds me, stroking my back, comforting me. We both know this is good-bye, and the pain paralyzes me. I can’t move. I can’t breathe.

  “Shh, hush. Everything will be okay. You’re going to be fine. I know this is hard, but you’ll get through it.”

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  He grabs me by the shoulders. Through my watery eyes I see fire blazing in his. “You have to. Promise me, Evangeline.”

  I nod and whisper, “I do. I do. I promise. I’m going to take life by the balls.” I take a breath and give him a tremulous smile. “I love you, too.”

  He gives me a sad smile, wiping the tears from my face with his thumbs. Reverently, he kisses my forehead. “I know.” Wrapping an arm around my shoulder, he walks me back to the table. The blonde bombshell knits her penciled eyebrows together and purses her lips.

  Rafe gives a slow, teasing whistle, incongruent with the worry around his eyes. “Is Papa Roach that bad of a dancer? Did he step on your feet, sunshine?” The blonde elbows him hard enough to make him grunt.

  “You okay, honey?” She catches my hand in hers and gives it a squeeze.

  I nod, still unable to speak. She hops up and pats Rafe on the shoulder. “I’ll be right back, handsome. Come on, love, let’s go to the ladies room and get you straightened out. We’ll be back in a jiffy, boys.” Grabbing a glass of ice water and my hand she drags me toward the bathroom.

  Thankfully it’s empty, and she locks the door, placing the glass on the vanity. As she rummages through her purse, I look in the mirror and gasp, horrified by my appearance. I am, as Remi would say, one hot mess. Black mascara runs down both cheeks. To top off the picture, my red nose is dripping like a faucet. I’ve never been a pretty crier. The kind stranger fishes an ice cube from the glass placing it in a paper towel as I splash cold water on my face.

  “Here doll, put this on your eyes and forehead for a moment. It will help with the swelling and crying jag headache.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper, pressing the cold compress over my eyes. I choke out the only lie I can think of at the moment. “My mama’s sick, I’m on my way to see her, and I guess it’s just finally catching up with me.” I take the ice off my face and stare at her in the mirror.

  The blonde nods and kindly pretends to buy my feeble lie. “I’m Madge. Everything will be okay, honey.” She applies another coat of lipstick to her full lips. She’s pretty in an overdone kind of way. I wish I could do her hair, add some low lights into the bleach and tone it down a notch. “Your boyfriend’s cute. Not as hot as that cowboy, but you two look like you belong together.”

  I sigh and tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m Evie and he’s not my boyfriend.” The wistful longing seeps out in my sigh.

  “He cares about you. Even a blind person could see it, and you care about him. What’s the problem?” Her wide rhinestone bracelets clatter as she drums her fingernails on the countertop.

  “His, uh, job prevents us from being together.”

  Madge frowns and purses her lips as if deep in thought. “That’s too bad. I can tell how much he means to you.” She rubs my back in a reassuring manner and then draws me in for an outright hug. Aside from Remi, I can’t remember the last person that hugged me without an ulterior motive. Although I can’t tell Madge the entire sad story, it helps to share just a little of my pain. She cups my cheeks in her hands and smiles at me. “How about I take care of that good-lookin’ cowboy for you and give you and your man some alone time. Would that help?”

  It isn’t much, but I’ll take any time I can steal to be alone with Remi. I smile and hug her back this time.

  “Why is she here?” I hiss, glaring at Raphael after Mary “Madge” Magdalene hauls Evie to the bathroom.

  “Don’t ask me, I didn’t send for her. Although, I find her new look kind of intriguing, if a little daunting.” He takes a sip of his water.

  Of course, Mr. Brown Noser didn’t order a beer. I, on the other hand, gulp mine down and signal for another. Maybe if I get shit-faced drunk it will help ease the pain.

  “You can’t drink and drive,” Raphael cautions.

  “Fine, I’ll fly home.”

  “You know that’s not allowed, either. Look, I’m not the enemy here. I’m just here to check on you and Evangeline. You need to let this go. Just sever it nice and clean. It’ll be easier than prolonging this. I’ll talk to the Boss and He can erase her memory of you together. Let Madge and me take her to see her mom. We’ll take over making sure she’s okay and learns to live life to the fullest. You can tell her you’ve been called away on an emergency, Father.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat and stare at the condensation dripping down the bottle of beer. What he suggests makes sense and is the right thing to do, but the thought of her not remembering me at all hurts worse than a sucker kick to the nuts. There’s no way in hell I’ll ever forget her. Ever. And ending up in hell is a distinct possibility. I sigh and rub my eyes. My feelings don’t matter. Rafe’s right, I have to do this for her sake.

  “Okay.” I keep my face covered, hiding my emotions. I’ve never felt this way about anybody. I’ve always been out for number one. Me. I’ve done my jobs and even guided a few lost souls back to the right path, but only because it benefited me in the long run.

  God, I’m such a selfish bastard, so full of envy. I always thought it would be better down here on earth. I couldn’t have been more wrong. This isn’t fun. True life is hard work and full of pain. I never realized how damn easy I’ve had it. I don’t have time to dwell on my ass wipe behavior. I have to do what’s best for Evie. She’s all that matters. Even if I have to move south, and shovel coal in the proverbial fires of hell for all of eternity, so be it. As long as she’s safe and learns to enjoy life and even love again, I can survive.

  Raphael taps his water glass to my beer. “It’s for the best, Remiel. I’ll talk to Him. He’ll know what to do. He always does. I know your free will has messed things up, but nothing is irreparable.”

  “Who are you going to talk to?” Madge asks as she and Evie scoot into the booth. Although Evie’s face no longer resembles Ozzy Osbourne after eating a bat, her eyes appear glassy with unshed tears, and her nose remains red and shiny. Lord help me, she’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen in heaven or on earth.

  “Remi just received a phone call from his Boss—”

  “Oh, that’s nice,” Madge interrupts. “But we’re not talking business tonight, cowboy,” she purrs. Raphael’s eyes grow wide with a look of shocked horror when she leans in, rubbing her generous cleavage against his arm. Her hand disappears under the table—and I’m assuming—lands somewhere quite personal judging by the red tint of embarrassment on his face. If I weren’t so damned depressed, I’d laugh. Leave it to Madge to throw Mr. Perfect off kilter. She’s always been one of my favorites with her bawdy sense of humor.

  The waitress brings our food, and Madge flashes a bright smile at the harried server. “Just bag the cowboy’s to go. We’re gonna go eat in private, if you know what I mean.” She winks at the waitress, who grins knowingly while Raphael sputters his protestation. Evie keeps her head down, finger tracing the carved names over and over.

  I’m a bit confused myself and look to Madge for an explanation. She stands and tugs on Raphael’s arm, holding his crutches with her other hand. “Come on, handsome. We’ll go grab your stuff, and I’ll give you a ride to your granny’s. I live ten minutes from h
er, and you never know what could happen. She might need you tonight.”

  “But—”

  He never gets the words out of his mouth. She leans in and plants a kiss on him that’s almost pornographic to watch. Several patrons whistle and suggest they take it down the road to the motel. I don’t think twice and hand Madge the extra card key to the room so he can get his duffel bag. Not that he really needs it, but we have to keep up the charade. I just pray Madge really isn’t intending on taking him back to our room for a quick toss in the sack. I now have plans of my own.

  “Evie, it was nice meeting you. You too, Remi. Come on, cowboy. Get your crippled carcass in gear. I’m gonna make you forget all your troubles by the time we reach your granny.” She plucks the cherry out of her drink, puts it in her mouth, and pulls out a knotted stem. Rafe’s eyes bug and his mouth drops open. He doesn’t have long to gape because she yanks him to his feet, shoving his crutches at him. Evie raises her head and stares, her eyes wide and questioning.

  He gives us both a pointed look before reluctantly holding out his hand. I shake it and meet his troubled gaze with my own.

  “Good luck, Father Christmas. Make things right.” His smile is one of genuine affection when he looks at Evie. “I hope everything turns out okay with your mom, sunshine.”

  Evie gives him a tremulous smile in return. She turns to me biting that lower lip I long to nibble on one last time. I wink at her and her smile widens.

  “Bye, Rafe. Madge. It was nice meeting both of you. I hope your grandmother’s okay.” She takes a pen out of her purse and writes her phone number on a napkin and hands it to Rafe. “Keep in touch, okay?”

  “Sure thing, sunshine. I have a feeling we’ll meet again.” He leans over and gives her a kiss on the cheek and whispers something in her ear.

  She looks up at him, and her brows pull together in a puzzled frown. A firm pat on my shoulder and he’s gone, following Madge to the parking lot. Evie blushes pink, and her long lashes fan out on her soft cheek as she gazes at her untouched salad.

  “What did he say to you?” I wrap a loose tendril of her hair around my finger. I want to yank her hair down, preferring it waving in a riot of loose curls.

  “He told me I wasn’t crazy and gave me a Bible verse.”

  I smile at her. “You’ll always be my Crazy Girl. What Bible verse?”

  “Second Corinthians chapter four, verses sixteen to twenty. Do you know it?”

  Of course I know the verse and quote it for her. “So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.”

  “I’m not sure what it means.” She shrugs, and picks up her fork, pushing her salad around on the plate.

  I’m not sure what he meant by it either. And at this precise moment, I don’t care. I’ve been given a reprieve from my death sentence. Although technically I can never die, living without Evie will be like death. It will be my personal, living hell. I only have a few more stolen hours with my girl, and I’m not about to waste one minute of it.

  “Eat, Evie. He was just some itinerant cowboy trying to wax philosophic. We have the rest of the evening to relax before we get to your mother’s tomorrow.”

  “I’m not really hungry.”

  “Me either.” I drum the table, feeling like a teenager about to ask a girl on a date. Her liquid gaze meets mine. “I meant it, you know.”

  She blinks and her eyes light up with hope.

  “I love you. I, uh, don’t know about the future,” I admit.

  “I love you, too,” she whispers.

  “So, now what?” I leave the question hanging.

  For the first time this evening, she genuinely smiles. “Let’s take life by the balls and live a little dangerously.”

  That’s my girl.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “EVANGELINE, WE NEED TO TALK,” Remi pants, lighting his cigarette and collapsing on his back with a satisfied groan.

  I curl into his body with my head on his shoulder. We’re both slick with sweat. “No,” I gasp in response. The man’s been trying to “talk” since we arrived back at the room. I let him know right quick I had other ideas for passing the time. “I told you, tonight is about the present, not the future. Besides, you should be ecstatic. I’m doing exactly what you’ve been telling me to do.” I grin and reach down cupping him as I lick his nipple to a tight peak.

  “Okay, okay…stop and let me catch my breath.” He laughs and kisses the top of my head. “Tell me something. If you could have any three wishes come true—that don’t involve our future—what would they be?” Remi stubs out his cigarette and pops a breath mint in his mouth.

  “My wish just came true.” I peek at him and grin, waggling my eyebrows. “Several times. What’s yours?”

  “To dance with you in the moonlight.” His eyes crinkle softly, and his lips relax in a lazy, replete smile. His hand runs up and down my back in soft, lazy strokes.

  “Mmm.” I purr and smile in response.

  “And for you to be happy and never think about hurting yourself again.”

  “We said we weren’t talking about the future,” I murmur, pushing the sadness away, concentrating on the steady, comforting beat of his heart that keeps time with my own.

  “Okay. To lick ice cream off your tits.”

  I raise my head and stare at him with my mouth hanging open.

  He laughs, and his abs ripple beneath my hand. “You asked. Chocolate, to be precise.”

  “I’m shocked, Father. Isn’t that a sin?”

  “After what we’ve just done, several times over? I’m sure it’s venial in comparison, but sinfully good, for sure.”

  I giggle. True. I’ve already been his appetizer, main course and dessert. I roll onto my back next to him and lace my fingers behind my head and stare at the ceiling. “My wish is to see snow. I’ve never seen it.”

  “Snow? It’s way overrated and that qualifies as a future wish. It’s August,” he scoffs. “If you want cold and wet, let’s go for the chocolate ice cream on the girls.” He gives me a wicked grin and pinches my already hard nipple.

  “Not fair. That’s your wish. Your third wish, actually. For my second wish, I want you to recite poetry to me.”

  He groans. “Poetry? You’re kidding, right?”

  “Poetry,” I affirm.

  “Even though I’m not a fan of poetry, I’ll recite a poem while we dance. Let’s go do it.” The husky timbre of his voice makes my toes curl in anticipation.

  “Now? For real? I thought we were just playing a game.”

  “Yes, for real, but in a minute.” He turns on his side, propping his head on his hand. When he smiles down at me, flames flicker in his eyes. I’m too tired to fight the crazy delusion and just ignore it. I’ll have plenty of time to contemplate the state of my mind after he leaves. My cheeks grow hot under his frank perusal and I’m pretty sure I’m red all the way down to my toes.

  “Don’t stare at me.” Self-conscious, I move to turn away, but he captures my wrists and holds them above my head.

  “Be still. I want to memorize every last perfect detail of you. With my eyes…” Fire simmers in his hooded eyes. “With my hands…” His free hand cups my cheek, his thumb brushing my lips. I lick his thumb and suck on it. In response, he closes his eyes and moans. My breath catches and even though he’s just had me every which way to Sunday, I ache for him again. He opens his eyes, and they are once again dark with desire. “With my lips…” Warm lips capture mine. He tastes of peppermint, cigarette, and me. It’s like an aphrodisiac and I buck up against him, needing more.

  “Remi,” I gasp as he leaves a blazing trail of need down my neck. “Remi—”

  “Yes, dear? You never said, what’s
your third wish?” He raises his head and grins at me.

  I laugh and choke on a sob at the same time. Goner rises and pads over to the bed with a whimper and gazes at me with his sad eyes, offering what comfort he can.

  “Hey, stay with me in the moment.” Remi pulls me into his arms and strokes my hair. A snap of his fingers has Goner curling up on the floor once again.

  He reaches over and lights another cigarette, a sure sign he’s as anxious as I am.

  “I’m sorry. My emotions are more scattered than usual. I’m happy, sad, turned on, and scared…” I frown. “Those things are going to kill you.”

  “Want one?” he teases softly in an attempt at a lame joke. I’m not in the mood, and before I can stop it, a lone tear hits his chest. “Don’t cry, sweetness.”

  “Why not? This is so unfair!” I dash the tear away with the back of my hand.

  “Because quite frankly, Crazy Girl, you’re not a pretty crier. Quite the opposite, actually.” He’s skirting my real question with jokes and we both know it.

  “Very funny. I’ll remember to curb my tears when I accept my award for Craziest Bitch on the Planet. I’ll put it on the mantle next to my World’s Most Pathetic Little Girl badge.” We laugh, but there’s a strained edge underneath it and a quiet air of desperation between us.

  I swallow my bitter disappointment. I’m not important enough for him to leave the church. Sadly, I realize I’ve never come first. Chores were more important to my father. Kayla was more important to Jack. A good name is more important to my mother. And the church is more important to Remi. It’s my lot in life to be second best. What’s the saying? Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.

  “I’ll miss you.”

  He starts to sputter a protest, but I cover his lips with my hand.

  “It’s okay. I understand. Really, I do.” I refuse to cry again. It isn’t like I haven’t known this was yet another impossible relationship.