Lights of the Heart

by Nat Burns

  “Oh, I know, Jess.” I pulled my phone from my ear and searched my icons. I pressed the one that would let me see her dear face. Within seconds, I was staring at her. She looked tired but so familiar and so comforting. “Oh, Jess,” I said.

  Her dark blue eyes were so sympathetic. She leaned forward. “You do whatever you need to do to feel better. You know this drill. We’ve used it so many times in our lives. I have complete faith in you.”

  I smiled, and I did feel better. “Your pep talks have always done me a world of good, big sis.”

  She smiled back. “Good.”

  I took a deep breath and disentangled myself from Julio. “Okay. Going for a walk. There’s a church down the street.”

  She nodded. “Do you know the priest?”

  I shrugged. “Not yet.”

  She grinned at me. “Signing off. I loooove you.”

  “Love you back.” I ended the connection and grabbed my jacket from the coatrack. “Be back soon, Julio. Be a good boy.”

  My phone rang just as I touched the door. I didn’t recognize the number, and sudden fear filled me. Suppose something had happened to Maddie.

  “Hello!” I barked into the phone, clutching it tightly, nervously.

  “Why, hello, darlin’.”

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s Dixie, from the conference. Don’t you remember me?”

  I certainly remembered her. I thought of soft blond hair and bright, clear blue eyes. A curvy figure.

  “Yes Dixie. How are you?”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Maddie

  I loved the walk from my new house to the coffee shop. Especially on a day like today, when the sun was a bright shiny thing calling to me, and the air had a bit of early morning crispness to it. Fall in southern Alabama was pleasant, and I noticed that some big thorny plants with papery flowers—I thought they were called bougainvillea—were still beautifully lush along the walkway. One of my neighbors had a bunch of what Tia called blue asters in her yard. They were very pretty flowers.

  My therapist, Wendy, said that I should walk every day to help my core muscles stay strong, so I did. My walking had gotten much better during the past month. Though my left arm and leg were still weak, they felt strong today.

  I stopped and let the sun heat my face. It felt so good. I only stood there a minute before moving on, my cane making a rattling sound every time it hit the sidewalk. I smelled the coffee when I was still a block away and smiled.

  The coffee shop was called Java Stokes, and that was written on the glass doors in big yellow letters. There was a steaming beige coffee cup painted there as well. I shifted my weight onto my cane and pulled open the door.

  Stevie looked up from behind the counter. There was a big coffee machine there, and sometimes she disappeared behind it. Stevie made the best coffee.

  “Hey Maddie! Good to see you! One hard vanilla latte coming right up.”

  There was no one in the coffee shop after the morning rush, so I had my choice of tables. I still went to the one in the corner where I always sat. There was more room for my cane there against the wall so it wouldn’t stick out and trip someone.

  “So, how’s your day going?” Stevie asked as she slid into the chair opposite me and placed my coffee on the table.

  I fished my phone from my pocket. “Good.” I lifted the coffee and pressed two icons. “Better now.”

  She always gave me a cardboard coffee cup and put a plastic top on it even though the other customers usually used regular ceramic cups. I appreciated that, her looking out for me.

  “Good. Therapy must be going well. You’re moving well today.” She studied me with dark brown eyes. She was a little older than me, and her face had fine wrinkles on her eyes, mouth and neck. She was very pretty, with short graying hair and full lips.

  I switched over to talk mode and typed into my phone. “Wendy is a brute. She works me hard.”

  “Isn’t that the point?” She lifted her own cup and took a sip. Foam lingered on her upper lip until her tongue snaked up to lick it off. I watched, mesmerized by this. My own tongue mirrored the movement. I seemed to have no control over it.

  “I finally got my kitchen painted. It looks amazing. Now, I should be able to have you over for dinner soon,” she said. “I really like living in this town. Houston was fine but so busy. I much prefer the slower pace here in Maypearl.”

  I smiled and nodded. “I look forward to dinner,” the phone said after I typed. I knew she had a small apartment on Cottonwood Street. I couldn’t remember where that was, but she told me she would draw me a map so Tia could find it, or she would come and pick me up at my house if I wanted.

  The bell on the door jangled, and two elderly ladies entered the café. I’d seen them in there many times, so I waved to them as Stevie rose to take their orders.

  “Be right back,” she said to me over her shoulder as she walked away. I watched her, wondering at my attraction to her. I was coming to realize that I was a lesbian but didn’t quite know what to do with that knowledge. Not that it mattered. Any love life I might have had was a moot point now. I smiled ruefully. Ah, well, I had learned to let go.

  I took a deep sip of my coffee and watched as Stevie talked and laughed with the two women. She was a sweet woman, and she did seem to like me, though I was sure only as a friend.

  I paused in mid-sip. Maybe she was a lesbian too. It would be nice to have someone to talk to about that. Again, did I care? I finished my sip and frowned at my cup. As if I could talk.

  I took in a deep breath and blew out coffee aroma. I could talk. Not like everyone else, but that was okay. Dr Penn, my neurologist, told me that I should never look at what I couldn’t do, but what I could.

  The two older women seated themselves, and Stevie ducked behind the big coffee machine. It always smelled so good when she made the whooshing sounds back there. After serving them their coffees, she brought me a small plate with something from the big glass box on it. It was a peanut butter cookie, one of my favorites.

  “Here you go, sweetie. See if we can get some flesh on those skinny arms and legs.” She sat down and watched as I picked at the cookie.

  “Hey, has any memory come back?” she asked finally.

  I shook my head. I reached for my phone. “There’s about two months that are gone, but the rest is come and go. No, it’s called hit or miss.”

  “I’m sort of glad you don’t remember the accident. I hear it was awful.” Her eyes grew sad.

  “I’m not sure why I was there,” I typed and waited for the phone to speak. “But they say I was delivering a baby.”

  “Yes, Lizzie Horten’s. Poor little baby boy, never even took the first breath,” she muttered sadly. She sat back and lifted her cup.

  “They died?” I was horrified. Others had died while I had lived.

  She eyed me with some surprise. “Yes, all three of them. And a firefighter.”

  I stood abruptly, not sure how to handle the rampant emotions raging inside me.

  She seemed alarmed. “You didn’t know?”

  I shook my head and bent to retrieve my cane. I stood and pushed one hand down in a calming gesture. I wanted her to know that telling me was okay. I reached with my right hand and touched her gently on the chin. I smiled for her and then grabbed up my coffee and headed home.

  Chapter Forty

  Ella

  Dixie looked so good, sitting there waiting for me, and I just sort of stood in the restaurant doorway drinking her in for a moment. As if sensing me, she glanced up, saw me and came to hug me.

  “I am so glad you could make it,” she said, eyes joyful. “I just hate having a meal all alone. It’s no fun at all.”

  I smiled. “Me too,” I said.

  Part of me felt like I should have gone to the church instead, but I felt helpless, as though I were acting on autopilot. Being here with her felt almost like cheating, even though I knew nothing would happen between us. I still loved Maddie, and
that would never change.

  After we were seated and our drinks ordered, Dixie leaned forward. “How is your Dr Salas?” she asked. “We were just devastated when we heard the news. I thought my daddy was gonna cry. Is she doing okay?”

  “Well, define okay.” I cleared my throat. “She’s not able to speak yet, but she uses talking apps, so that helps. Physically, she’s getting around okay, but she doesn’t seem to have any…oh, I don’t know. Energy, I guess. Or maybe interest. She just doesn’t seem to care about anything the way she used to.”

  “And her mind? How’s her mind?” Her eyes were curious.

  I rubbed my forehead, feeling as though a headache was blooming there. “She has a spotty memory, and her language skills are still coming back slowly. She doesn’t remember anything about the accident. She knows she is a doctor, but she doesn’t remember much about her practice. She doesn’t even seem to think about it, not checking in about how her patients are or how the office is operating without her.”

  “She’s not going to be a doctor anymore, is she? That is so fucking awful. I can’t even imagine what that must be like, to lose everything in just a few short hours,” she said quietly.

  “It’s pretty damned awful,” I whispered.

  After a few moments, I was determined to change the subject. “So, have you eaten here before? What’s good?” I scanned the menu.

  I remembered sharing a meal with Maddie. I remembered how our orders had been identical and how we had laughed about it. I looked up, my universe shifting as Dixie’s paleness sat across from me instead of Maddie’s exotic darkness.

  “I think I’ll have a thick, juicy steak,” she said, eyes scanning the menu. “I hear they do them up good here.”

  I nodded. “Sounds good.”

  Not interested in steak, I ordered the salmon when the server, a young, bearded man, approached bearing two house salads.

  “So, have you given any more thought about coming to Dothan for a spell? I’d love to show you my…town.” She was enjoying her salad, dipping individual chunks of iceberg lettuce into the house ranch dressing.

  The pause was subtle, but I heard it. I needed to nip this in the bud right away, but there was something in me that held back.

  “Tell me again why you’re in Maypearl? The mother of a student?” I tried to emanate curiosity.

  She nodded and chewed until her mouth was empty. “There’s this mother of one of our staff members. She lives here in Maypearl. Normally a visiting mother would just hop on a plane in Dothan and be here in forty minutes, but oh no, Missus Branley is scared of flying, so she had to be driven back home.”

  I was confused. “But wait. How did she get to Dothan?”

  Dixie laughed, and I smiled in response. “Guess I should have explained. She took a bus to Dothan two days ago, but the fool woman missed the last bus coming this way today. So what does my daddy do? Instead of driving her home himself, he sends me to do it.” She paused. “I’m actually sort of glad.”

  “You are? Why?” Was I actually flirting with her?

  “Well, I got to see you, didn’t I?” She smiled sweetly at me, her eyes warm and welcoming.

  Our food came, ending what could have been an uncomfortable moment for me. I was torn, wanting Maddie so badly but knowing, with some disappointment, that she was gone from me. A big part of me wanted to disappear with her, but another part wanted to be present, to love, to live life to the fullest.

  “Mmm, this is good,” Dixie said, sampling her steak.

  I looked down at my salmon, resting on a steaming bed of rice and surrounded by bright green steamed broccoli. It wasn’t spaghetti marinara. Sorrow swamped me, and I squelched it quickly, taking a huge sip of iced tea.

  “How’s your salmon?” she asked, looking at my untouched plate. “Hey, are you okay?”

  I smiled and nodded, blinking back tears. “Sure, sure. I didn’t know they served mac and cheese here.” I pointed at her plate with my fork.

  She lifted a forkful and savored it seductively. “And it is sooo good!” She speared a few noodles and held her fork out to me. I saw a dare in her gaze and, Lord help me, I took the bite. And immediately regretted it. I almost left. I did not need this kind of conflict in my life. Not at this moment.

  The rest of the meal was pleasant and uneventful. I knew Dixie wanted more from me, but I just didn’t have it to give. I deflected any further overtures and did not flirt or encourage her. Instead, we talked about her daily life as an administrative assistant to her father, her brother’s antics surfing the gay dating scene in Montgomery and about her mother’s scare with breast cancer.

  “Oh my God, no offense, but I guess that didn’t go over well at all with her,” I said.

  “You know it,” she agreed. “The idea of nasty medical stuff bein’ done to my mama is so alarming, to me as well as to her. Thank goodness it was benign. I thought she was going to pass out just findin’ out she had to have a biopsy. We all held her hand, though, as she pretended to be brave and strong.”

  She sighed and rolled her eyes. Then she studied me.

  “There’s something going on with you,” she said.

  I started to deny it, but she held up a hand to forestall it. She lifted her fork and mashed the remaining piece of chocolate cake that neither of us had eaten.

  “You don’t have to tell me what it is, but I know it has something to do with Dr Salas. I want to say that I’m really sorry that you’re going through a tough time, well, that both of you are. I really hope y’all resolve it soon and that it works out well. If I can help in any way, you just let me know.”

  I teared up, hearing such heartfelt sentiments from her. I took her free hand between both of mine. “I really appreciate that, Dixie. I think the two of us can be great friends, if that’s okay with you.”

  She nodded and looked away for a moment. “Of course! Girls like us need to stick together,” she said brightly as she turned back to me. “Especially in the deep south.”

  I laughed, filled with relief. “A truer truth has never been spoken.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Maddie

  “Why didn’t you tell me about the people who died?” I asked her by typing into my phone.

  Tia Florida squirmed uncomfortably in her easy chair. “Corinthia, you were in no shape to hear such bad news. We had other things we were dealing with at the time.”

  I sat down in the recliner next to her. “I just feel bad. I guess I should have died, too,” I typed.

  Tia dropped the book she’d been reading before my interruption to the floor.

  “Corinthia Salas! Don’t you dare say such a thing. Ever! People die when it is their time to die. You shame me, and yourself, by pretending you are the Creator and that you make the decisions who should and should not die. Your mother and father raised you better than that.”

  “Sorry,” I typed.

  I had forgotten how fatalistic yet devout my family had been. I was beginning to get a whole new idea about that.

  “Let’s see Mother,” I typed.

  Tia sat up straighter. “Are you feeling well enough for that? You know she won’t recognize you. I told you what her condition is.”

  I nodded and typed. “Want to remember.”

  Tia sighed and stood. “Okay. Go get your jacket.”

  I donned my jacket, and we went outside. I stared longingly at my dark blue Sequoia SUV as we scrambled into Tia’s small Toyota pickup. I wasn’t driving yet, but we’d gone ahead and repaired my SUV after it was damaged in the explosion. I just needed to get back my self-confidence and I would try. I was looking forward to having that freedom again.

  It took us about twenty minutes to get to the home where my mother lived. Try as I might, I had no recollection of this place. The holes in my memory amazed me daily. According to what Tia had told me, I used to come here every week. I was looking forward to seeing my mami. I hadn’t seen her since the accident, and the memories I did have of her were ol
d ones from when I was a child.

  The senior center smelled funny inside, like menthol liniment and old food. Tia led me past the front desk and down a hallway. We entered a small room. A wizened little lady, with short wavy black-and-gray hair, sat in a chair next to the window. She turned to look at us. I saw it then. I saw the mami of my youth, a woman who’d been taller and thinner but with the same dark brown eyes. Emotion choked me, and I gasped. Tia pivoted to look at me.

  “Corinthia? What’s wrong?”

  I indicated my mother and then swiped at my streaming eyes.

  Tia patted my back. “It’s okay, Corinthia. Just let yourself remember. It’s all part of the healing.”

  I nodded and moved closer to my mother. I laid down my cane, knelt at her knees and looked up at her. She looked expectantly at Tia.

  “Esperida,” Tia said, nodding respectfully. “You remember Corinthia. I’ve brought her to see you.”

  Mami looked at me, and I saw many things swirling in the depths of her chocolate eyes. Finally, recognition settled there. I marveled at that. And at the hand that came up and caressed my cheek. A tear escaped my eyes and traveled a slow, hot path along my cheek. My mother’s other hand brushed it away impatiently.

  “No llores,” she said.

  I understood her, and my heart thrilled. I think she had said those words, no tears, to me before. Maybe this nightmare would end and my memory would even out. Maybe the edges of my past and my recent past would eventually collide and I would be whole again.

  “Pobre bebe, tan triste,” she said, still studying me.

  I looked into her dear, familiar face, and something warm settled inside me. I was very sad, and she sensed it. “Mami,” I whispered.

  Tia gasped, and it was then I realized that I had spoken. Spoken with my own voice and not a machine.

  I said it again. “Mami.”

  Then, because I could, I said it a little louder. “Mami.”

  “Que? Que?” she asked, scowling.

  I pulled her close and hugged her, my cheek against her middle. “Te amo, Mami,” I said quietly.