Beloved Lives
Page 16
“Winston has a slight concussion, and his left front leg is broken, but he’s going to be fine. They want to keep him for a couple of days, just to make sure. Is that all right?”
“Yes, and thank you so much, Trish,” April said. She told Trish she would be home soon and then handed the phone back to Mitch.
Finally, the police released April to go home. As Mitch helped her from the wheelchair into the taxi, April realized there was one more secret she still had to share.
Mitch gave the taxi driver his address. “I’m taking you home with me. I hope that’s okay. I’ll go over to your house and fix the door in the morning, but I don’t think you should stay there tonight.”
“Thank you,” April said. She was quiet for a moment then added, “There’s something I have to tell you. Something you have to know about me.”
“What?” Mitch turned to her, looking worried. “What is it?”
April took a deep breath. There was never any way to know how people would react to this. Just say it, she thought. Say it fast.
“My parents run a nudist camp in the Ozarks. You should know that.”
April waited. Mitch's lips twitched, as if he were trying not to smile.
“That’s what you need for me to know?” he asked.
“Yes.” She twisted her hands in her lap, nervous.
Mitch placed a tender kiss on her forehead. “I think I can live with that.”
Chapter 38. Fireworks
“I thought you said your Winston was afraid of fireworks.” April’s mother was dealing out paper plates like playing cards around a long picnic table surrounded by benches. Both in the distance and nearby, firecrackers were snapping, periodically punctuated by explosions of fireworks packed with considerably more gun powder.
“He used to be. Ever since he played hero, he seems to be immune,” April said and looked down at her cat in his traveling bed.
“Winston, quit chewing on your cast,” she scolded. He looked up at her, sighed, and rolled onto his back for a belly rub. April reached down to oblige.
She was stretched out on a chaise lounge in the shade of an enormous oak tree next to several more picnic tables fairly groaning with food.
“Sure you don’t want in on the next round?” Mitch called, bounding over from the volleyball nets to grab some lemonade. “Since your feet are still tender, we’ll go easy on you.”
“I don’t think so, unless Trish is on my side. Her spikes scare the crap out of me.” She looked at him from under her huge, floppy hat. “You’re getting a sunburn on your butt.”
“Oh, thanks.” He looked over his shoulder at his reddening backside. “Want to put some sunscreen on it for me?” he asked, leering at her.
“Not in front of the parents. Here, better use some of this.” She reached into her all-purpose, travel back pack, retrieved a tube of cream, and handed it to him. “SPF 1000. It reflects the sunlight back into space and stops global warming.”
Mitch took the cream and began to apply it, as April squinted toward the volleyball game.
“Who is that Trish is chatting up?”
“Not sure, but they definitely seem to be hitting it off,” Mitch said, looking in the same direction.
April’s mom followed their line of sight. “Oh, that’s Eric. He’s a lawyer. Very nice. Widower.”
“Wonder what he looks like with his clothes on,” April mused. “Speaking of clothes, no shooting off fireworks without proper protective equipment. You hear me, Dad?”
April’s father grunted.
“I can’t wait to see those huge rockets go up.” Mitch gestured toward the stockpile at the family’s traditional launch site.
April guessed that was exactly what he had sounded like when he was five years old.
Her father smiled at Mitch. Then he turned to April and asked, “When’s the wedding?”
Chapter 39. The Fairy Princess
“Gramma, can we go see the Fairy Princess now?” Six-year-old Milly shed her coat, mittens, and hat as quickly as she could and handed them to her grandmother. She was looking around as though she might catch a glimpse of the princess there in the museum’s entry hall.
“Not yet, sweetheart. We have to wait for Grampa to park the car.” April tucked the coat and the rest under her arm while she helped Milly’s younger sister take off her coat and hat, so she wouldn’t get overheated.
“What is it, Lydie?” April asked, watching the four-year-old’s face crumple into a look of impending crisis.
“I just ‘membered. I don’t have a Christmas present for Winston the Third. He’ll think I don’t love him.” She looked on the verge of tears, her lower lip trembling.
“Oh, well, don’t you worry about that. First of all, love isn’t about presents. He’ll know you love him, no matter what. And second, I happen to know Winston the Third wants a new catnip mouse more than anything on Earth. And I know just where we can find one.”
Lydie’s face relaxed. “Really?” she asked, sounding doubtful.
“Yep, absolutely.”
“Excuse me.”
Standing next to Milly was a nice-looking young man holding a little boy by the hand. “I’m sorry but, do I know you?” the young man asked.
The little boy and Lydie were eye to eye, appraising each other solemnly. April stood up and looked into the man’s face to see if he was at all familiar. Goose bumps rose on her arms, and the hair stood up on the back of her neck.
It’s him, she thought and took in a careful breath. He’s finally found me again.
April smiled politely. “Not that I know of,” she said carefully, not certain what he might remember. “I get that all the time, though. I sort of have one of those faces.”
“Maybe so,” the man said, not looking entirely convinced.
“Did you take your little boy to meet the Fairy Princess?” April asked. She looked at the boy who was a miniature copy of his father, down to the matching holiday sweaters, hand knitted with vast quantities of yarn and love.
“Yes, he thought she was great.” The young man smiled warmly at his son.
“A lot less scary than Santa Claus, I think,” April said, watching the boy and Lydie sticking their tongues out at each other.
The young man laughed and rolled his eyes. “Yes, we found that out the hard way.”
“Gramma, here’s Grampa Mitch. Let’s go see the Fairy Princess.” Milly was dancing with excitement.
“Well, we have some shopping to do for Mom,” he said, looking again at his son then, smiling, he turned back to April. “You have a Merry Christmas.” The young man waved goodbye to them. He and his son walked toward the museum entrance, talking with animation.
“And a Happy New Year,” April called after them.
The little boy turned and waved at Lydie. Lydie waved back.
“Who was that?” Mitch asked as he scooped up one girl in each arm while they giggled wildly.
“Just an old acquaintance,” April said. She looked at the young man one last time, surprised at the gentle tug of longing and nostalgia that must have come from the people she had once been, the ones who still remembered. People she no longer was.
April turned back to her family. “Let’s go see the Princess. Then we have to get a very important catnip mouse, then it's home for hot chocolate.”
“Gramma?” Lydie squirmed around in Mitch’s arms to face her grandmother.
“Yes, dear?” April answered.
“On Sunday, are we going to be naked and eat ice cream?”
“Yeah,” whispered Milly in excited agreement.
April gave Mitch a cautionary look, as he swallowed a laugh.
“Only if your mother says it’s okay. She's still getting used to the family traditions.”
Fat, feather-light snowflakes were beginning to fall outside, as they walked toward their audience with the Fairy Princess.
About the Author
Marilyn J. Evans was a medical researcher for twenty years, then
worked in quality assurance for the pharmaceutical and biologics industries. Writing fiction is her third career. She has studied, taught and lectured on comparative religion and aspects of the paranormal for more than two decades. Marilyn has horses, cats, a garden with a bad attitude, and a patient husband, and lives in Kansas City, Missouri.
Beloved Lives is Marilyn's first novel. Her novella, “Wasting Water,” will appear in the anthology Undeniable: Writers Respond to Climate Change, published by Alternating Current Press.
Twitter: twitter.com/altcurrent
Facebook: www.facebook.com/AltCurrentPress
Google+: plus.google.com/+AlternatingCurrentPress
Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/altcurrent
Marilyn's website is marilynjevans.com/. There you will find a copy of the short story “Position Wanted” originally published in The Absent Willow Review.
You can join Marilyn's Facebook fan page at Marilyn J. Evans, author, Fan Page.
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CONTENTS
Chapter 1. House of Dreams
Chapter 2. Naked Is What I Do
Chapter 3. Tasty Sandals
Chapter 4. Workin’for a Livin’
Chapter 5. The Hottie Appears
Chapter 6. Wine and Pizza Cure
Chapter 7. Convergence
Chapter 8. Use the Bell
Chapter 9. Psyched
Chapter 10. Waves and Circles
Chapter 11. Service Cat
Chapter 12. Boy Talk
Chapter 13. Sleep Lab
Chapter 14. Bendy Straw
Chapter 15. Psychic or Not?
Chapter 16. Elderly Ladies
Chapter 17. Fast Cars
Chapter 18. Bendy Straw Revisited
Chapter 19. Bear Claws
Chapter20. Double Date
Chapter 21. Ibuprofen and Incense
Chapter22. Past Lives
Chapter23. Meriankhu
Chapter24. Home Again
Chapter 25. Full Disclosure
Chapter 26. Mitch Helps
Chapter 27. Nefrumeri
Chapter 28. Missouri Picnic
Chapter 29. Happy Hour
Chapter 30. Birth
Chapter 31. Discovered
Chapter 32. What Friends Are For
Chapter 33. Weston Takes a Nap
Chapter 34. Missing Link
Chapter 35. Blues in the Night
Chapter 36. Starting Over
Chapter 37. Last Rites
Chapter 38. Fireworks
Chapter 39. The Fairy Princess