"Father, forgive me," the priest said as he handed over the garments. "I can make an exception since these garments would only be thrown away. The fact that they fit you perfectly is very nearly a sign from God. They are quite used but they will serve you well. I would not do this for anyone else. The two of you represent the love of our Savior as well as anyone I have ever known or even read about. Even so, I am breaking sacred rules here, so you must never tell anyone about the car or the clothes."
Memories of the priest and his reluctant generosity made Honey smile even as she was getting frantic in her search for Leonard. He was not at the car. Honey knew he couldn't have driven off because she had the only keys. That was small consolation. She was fighting off panic, worrying about Leonard's whereabouts. Here he was in the main trade port of the former French empire, surrounded by forts and churches and basilicas and seamen who looked like pirates, not to mention immigrant fisherman and dock workers who looked like gangsters.
She walked to the wide boulevard, La Canebiere, and headed for the Old Port. She knew the center of trade and tourism would attract Leonard. She began hurrying down the street and shouting his name until she realized she needed to calm herself. She could not panic. Leonard's life might well depend on her keeping a clear head.
She could not call the police, no matter what.
Marseilles was majestic in the Mediterranean morning. The natural harbor was lined with boats, both modern and traditional. Their blue and green and red reflections gleamed and danced on the water. Ancient stone buildings shined in the sun as they had for centuries. Any other time Honey would have marveled at the cosmopolitan and nautical sights. Not today; her mission was clear. She had to find Leonard. Several times she thought she saw him in the distance, only to be disappointed once she got close enough to realize it wasn't him.
Honey walked and walked and ended up on the south side of the Old Port at the fortified tower of the Abbey of St. Victor. She paid little attention to the abbey, one of the oldest sites of Christian worship. It was nearly ten a.m., and everywhere she went people seemed to be looking at her even more than at the historic harbor.
The more she couldn't find Leonard the more angry she became with him for leaving her alone in this dangerous seaport. She knew what could happen to a woman by herself near the docks of Marseilles.
Her biggest fear was for Leonard. She knew he could take care of himself in any kind of tough spot. He was big enough and still quite strong. She'd seen him handle an obnoxious drunk or two back in Indiana. But eventually, someone was going to recognize him and report him to the authorities. That would be the end of their honeymoon. And they weren't even married.
Suddenly, her mind took her in another direction.
Maybe he's back at the hotel. He might have found his way back by now. I should not be mad at him. He can't help wandering off.
The city was preparing for lunch by the time Honey made it back to the hotel.
"He is here," the clerk said. "I told him you are looking for him."
Honey raced up to the room and found Leonard relaxing on the bed with his back propped up by pillows. She was so relieved to see him that she threw herself on top of him. He gave her a big hug.
"Boy, am I glad to see you," Leonard said. "I thought you got mad and left me. Thank heavens the guy at the desk told me you were out looking for me."
"Where did you go?" Honey asked, starting to tear up in relief.
Leonard gave her that hopeless look he only used for his memory issues and said, "Honey, I don't know what to tell you. I don't remember leaving this morning or even getting dressed. I ended up wandering around the city. And then the strangest thing happened. My mother came to me and so did my daughter, Emma, the one who drowned fifty years ago. I swear they were both with me. We had the best time. It was like a reunion."
"What did your mother say?"
"She told me not to be afraid of what's happening to my mind. She told me not to be angry or sad about Emma dying so young. Emma said the same thing. She said she was fine. It broke my heart to see her. I actually held her in my arms. I felt her tears on my cheek. She called me 'daddy.' She sounded just like my mother. It was like they were both the same person. It was impossible because mother was gone before Emma was born. But it felt so real. And it felt so good."
"Oh, Leonard, it must have been wonderful."
"It was more than wonderful. But then the strangest thing happened."
"What?"
"Emma and my mother turned into the same person and that person started looking more and more like you, and then I remembered you weren't with me. I don't know what made me take a walk and I don't remember anything until I was talking with mother and Emma and then I began to worry about you."
"Did your mother say anything to Emma?"
"She kept saying how delightful it was for all of us to be together. It was wonderful. It was perfect. It made me realize that everyone you love is part of the same thing."
"What thing is that?"
"I don't know what to call it," Leonard said, squinting his eyes in concentration. "It's hard to put into words. But it kind of goes along with what my mother always says when she appears to me."
"What's that?"
"It's always something about how we're all one and we're all part of the same thing. She always reminds me to not be afraid. She says being afraid spoils everything."
"I'd have to say your mother is a very wise woman."
"You're so much like her it's scary."
"I wish I was more like her. The problem with me is I worry too much. That's the one way you and I are so very different. You never seem to worry, even when you should. That's probably why we're so good together. When I get worried, you calm me down. When you should be worried, I'm there to worry for you."
"You don't think I'm crazy for wandering around this foreign city and talking to people who aren't really there?"
"I don't think you're crazy. I know you're crazy. And I know I'm crazy about you and I'm so, so glad you came back to me. You have no idea how worried I was. I could see our fabulous trip coming to a terrible end. But tell me, how did you find your way back?" she asked.
"I had a card from the hotel in my pocket. I must have picked it up at the front desk. I gave the card to a taxi driver, and he took me right back here. I did recognize the place once I saw it again."
"How did you pay for the ride? I've got all our money."
"I got the guy to talk to the hotel clerk. The clerk told him about you and said to come back at noon to be paid. The driver wasn't too happy, but he said he'd be back for sure. What time is it?"
"It's time for us to come up with a plan so nothing like this ever happens again. I've been worried sick about you. This old port city is no place to be lost and alone."
"I wasn't afraid," Leonard said, "and I wasn't alone."
"I'm not talking about you," Honey said. "I'm talking about me. I thought I'd lost you for good. And it sounds like I might have lost you if it hadn't been for that lucky card you found in your jacket."
"Actually, I found it in my pants pocket."
"Oh, so now you're Mr. Smarty Pants," she laughed in relief before sobering quickly. "Leonard, I'm talking about not letting this happen again. You have moments when you totally forget where you are. That's dangerous. It's dangerous for you and terrifying for me. I can't go through what I went through this morning looking for you. I can't go through that ever again."
"I guess we'll just have to watch me a little more closely."
"I can't watch you when we're asleep," Honey's lips began to tremble as she was about to cry.
"Oh, come on now, pumpkin. Don't cry. What's that you always say about the power of love? We'll be fine."
Honey couldn't help but smile at that reference to her unbounded optimism. "I suppose I'll just have to tell the desk clerks to be on the lookout for a sneaky old man who might not know where he's going."
"There you go," Leonard laughed. "I'm ok
ay with that."
Honey did not tell Leonard how close she'd come to calling the police. The thought of Leonard wandering around, lost in Marseilles, was more than she could bear. It might have taken all day. But she would eventually have called the police.
"So, let's go eat something," she said. "I'm famished. I didn't get breakfast. I think I'll get dressed up as a nun. Come on, let's see how you look in your priest outfit."
"I'm not wearing a disguise," Leonard said. "It was nice of that priest to try to help, but I'm not going to dress like him just to go have lunch."
"But what if the police find us? You know they'll be looking here by now."
"Nobody's going to catch us. We'll take the car and find a nice little seaside restaurant. The seafood around here has got to be fantastic."
* * *
All through lunch Honey was having a flashback epiphany. As she and Leonard found a four-star restaurant on the rocky cliffs overlooking the Mediterranean Sea, a highlight reel of her love life blazed through her mind at warp speeds to penetrate her subconscious. It began with Daniel, her first love, the boy who broke her heart. She gave herself to him so foolishly and so completely. His desertion hardened her heart in ways she was only now beginning to understand.
She saw herself fifty-five years earlier, walking down the aisle as a bride in her family's church in Mobile, Alabama. Every step took her closer to marrying a man who would protect and provide for her. Every step a calculated move toward marrying a man she trusted and admired but did not really love.
She saw her entire marriage fly by. It had been fun at times but much more a business deal than a romance. By the time the doctor died, Honey had grown into an independent soul who could appreciate her newfound freedom. She had to be free before she could finally fall in love.
As Leonard was ordering grilled lobster for the two of them, Honey was reliving the early days of her marriage to the doctor, particularly the decade of trying to conceive a child. By the time the fertility doctor finally concluded she could not bear children, Honey had already decided not to adopt. She was too busy becoming the reigning queen of a small town's high society. The love of raising children would not be part of her makeup.
"What's up with you?" Leonard asked as dinner arrived at the table. "You feel a little far away."
"I am," Honey said. "But I'm beginning to realize something I should have known a long time ago."
Leonard waited for her to continue as he began trying to dismember the lobster into something he could actually put in his mouth.
"You're the first man I ever fell in love with."
Leonard kept working on the lobster.
"Leonard, did you hear me? I'm pouring my heart out to you here, and you're not even paying attention to me."
He put down the lobster and wiped his hands on the napkin, "I'm sorry, pumpkin. Did you say I'm the first man you ever loved?"
"Yes, I did. And thank you for listening."
Leonard realized he needed to step up his game. "Come here. Stand up and give me a big hug."
Their embrace morphed into a slight dip of a dance move, much to the delight of their fellow diners.
"It doesn't seem fair," Honey said as they sat back down. "Why did it take me this long to finally follow my heart instead of my brain?"
"I know what you mean. But, in fairness, we didn't meet each other until recently."
"Do you think we would have fallen in love and lived happily ever after if we'd met when we were sixteen?"
"Would you have gone for a farm boy?"
"Probably not. I was looking for Prince Charming to whisk me away in his golden carriage. I was waiting for Cupid to shoot me with his arrow. I was looking for love to come into me from the outside. It took meeting you, later in life, to realize that true love has to come from within."
"It's better to love than to be loved," Leonard said.
Honey looked at him with the deep gratitude of understanding and of being understood. "Exactly," she said. "A thousand people loving you won't do any good until you love at least one of them back."
Leonard laughed in agreement and then said, "Honey, if we're doing true confessions, there's something I've got to tell you."
"What?"
"You're my first girl I was ever truly in love with."
Honey took his work-gnarled, lobster-smeared hands into hers and said, "Oh, my dear Leonard. You are so sweet. I do love you so. You make me feel like I always wanted to feel. This is our time. Nobody can take it away from us."
She noticed tears in his eyes as she wiped away her own. "Now, if only the police weren't after us," she joked to ease the emotion.
"They'll never catch us," Leonard said as he got himself together. "We'll stay on the move."
"But it's not that simple," Honey said. "Now that we're in love and in France, I'm afraid I'm going to lose the man I love, like I did this morning at the docks."
"Oh, that was just a temporary thing," Leonard said.
Honey waited to continue the conversation.
"Okay, what's up?" Leonard broke the silence. "What's on your mind? I can tell something's bothering you."
Honey took a long sip of her wine before answering, "I'm not talking about losing you physically. I'm talking about losing you mentally." Honey fidgeted in her chair and stabbed at her lobster a bit before continuing. "Leonard, let me just say it. I'm afraid you've got Alzheimer's, and it frightens me to death."
Leonard looked out on the sparkling sea and seemed to become lost in watching the endless waves rolling into shore. Honey began to think he might not be willing to address the issue. Then he smiled wryly and said, "Honey, I've known about my memory problem for more than a year now. Things are not going to get better for me. They're going to get worse. You deserve better. But I'm going to keep giving you everything I've got until there's nothing left to give. From what I've read, there's nothing anybody can do about the damned disease. Why do you think I gave Gretchen the Power of Attorney and let her talk me into living in that god awful nursing home?"
"You sound so matter of fact about it. Aren't you scared?"
"No more than I am afraid of dying. And, may I remind you, that's coming soon to a theater near both of us."
Honey sat up straighter in her chair as if cold water had just dripped down her back. "Well, then, I propose a toast. Are you ready?"
"Of course," Leonard said, raising his glass.
"I propose a toast to living it up, right here and right now."
"I'll drink to that," Leonard laughed. "That is exactly what we're doing. In fact, I can't think of any two people on the planet who are doing a better job of it than we are."
The grilled lobster turned out to be a little too dry and way too much work. Honey gave up on it after a couple bites. The rest of their luncheon, however, was as good as the view. The sun reflected on the waves, and the waves pounded the rocky shore. Honey and Leonard sipped their wine slowly and planned their trip down the coast of France, heading east. Their next stop would be Cassis. Nobody at the restaurant seemed to have recognized them, but they knew they had to keep moving.
As they were getting back in the car after lunch, Honey returned to their philosophical discussion and asked, "What do you think happens to you when you die?"
Leonard started the car and said, "It's going to be a lot like it was before you were born."
Honey found that interesting and funny and comforting. It was so . . . Leonard.
"I think I'll just be happy with what I've got," she said.
"That's my girl," Leonard said as he drove the priest's black sedan down the winding road along the rocky cliffs.
* * *
Back in Indiana, Robert Nimmo, was trying to talk Karen Lindvall into dismissing the felony charge against Honey for violating the no-contact order. The prosecutor had agreed to meet with Nimmo in her office.
"So let me get this straight," Lindvall said. "Your client is a suspect in an attempted murder case. She flees the jur
isdiction with the man she allegedly tried to poison. She thumbs her nose at the court's no-contact order. She's arguing her case in newspapers and television stations around the world, trying to make us all look like fools. And you want me to say the whole thing has been a big mistake on my part? What I should do is file obstruction of justice charges against Jack Crumbo and The Chicago Tribune for refusing to reveal Honey and Leonard's location."
Nimmo realized he had to respond carefully. "I don't think you're looking bad here," he began. "I think you did what you had to do, considering the evidence in front of you at the time. All I'm asking you to do now is consider some newly discovered evidence."
Lindvall looked at Nimmo like she was ready to pay attention.
Nimmo continued, "I have three documents I would like you to review."
"You've got the floor."
"Thank you. First of all, here's a report from a forensic pathologist who says Leonard Atkins was never poisoned in the first place. It was his years of exposure to pesticides on the farm that led to high levels of arsenic in his blood."
Lindvall read the report carefully and said, "Has this guy looked at the actual blood work?"
"No, but he will if you convince Adult Protective to turn it over."
Lindvall thought about that proposition for a moment and then said, "All right, what's the second thing?"
"The second thing is this Power of Attorney that Leonard gave to his niece, Gretchen Atkins. This is where the plot thickens. Gretchen got control of his money and now she wants him declared incompetent so he can't get it back. She wants Honey out of the picture because Honey asks too many questions. That's why she used the blood tests against her."
"How did you get this?"
"Leonard gave his copy to Honey and Honey gave it to me with his permission."
"What do you mean she used the blood tests against Honey?"
"Once the arsenic showed up in his blood, she should have had more tests done on him. Instead, she went right to the police and adult protective."
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