Full Circle Love (A Four Part Anthology of Cat & Zach Stories)

by Lori Leger

  Cathryn smiled at the even older version of her husband standing in the doorway. Other than lacking the full head of hair, as well as physical height that both his son and grandson possessed, the family resemblance was astounding. “Hey Paw Paw John.”

  “Exactly!” He nodded and pointed a thumb at his own chest. “I’m the only Paw Paw John in this family.” He puffed out his chest to his son. “You gotta be oldest and ugliest to get dibs.”

  Cat waved off his comment. “Pfft, there you go fishing for compliments again, Paw Paw. You know darn well there’s not an ounce of ugly on you.”

  “Ugly is as ugly does,” the younger John added. “And pop, it’s not my fault that five consecutive generations of Fergusons displayed a complete lack of imagination in naming their sons. That’s why Beth and I steered clear of it when we had one. Zachary is a nice, strong, perfectly acceptable name. And more importantly?” He leaned forward to make his point. “It’s not John.”

  The older John chuckled as he greeted Cathryn at the bed and kissed her forehead fondly. “Forget him. How’s my girl? Had a rough time of it, I hear.”

  She gave him a one shouldered shrug. “I’m good, still a little weak, and they limit my nursing sessions, but I’m getting stronger all the time.”

  The older John’s arthritic hand lingered on her head for a moment. He stared at her with eyes the same shade of blue as her husband’s, although slightly cloudy from age and the beginning stage of cataracts.

  He blinked several times and finally gave her a satisfied nod. “Good to know.” He inspected the room. “Where’s the other one? I didn’t come here prepared to wait my turn. Hell, I thought I’d have my own bundle of joy to hold.”

  Cathryn chuckled, appreciating the quick-wit and sharp sense of humor of her children’s great-grandfather more than ever. “She’s in the nursery. Her pediatrician is doing some blood work and running tests to make sure everything is as good on the inside as it is on the outside. She should be back soon.”

  Zach pushed open the door, carrying a large cup of coffee in one hand and a bottle of orange juice in the other. “Hey, we got us a party going on in here, or what?”

  “Now we do. Hey grandson, that’s a handsome little man you’ve got there.”

  “Yes sir, I have to agree with you.” He shook his grandfather’s hand and pulled him close for a one-armed hug. “Just wait until you see our daughter, Paw Paw. She’s going to be every bit as pretty as her mama.”

  “A looker already, huh?”

  “You bet.” Zach moved to his father who sat admiring his new grandson. He bent at the waist, resting his hands on his thighs to watch his sleeping son. “What do you think, Pop?”

  “Well, Zachary—” John Michael Ferguson blinked several times to clear his eyes as he and his son shared in a mutual show of emotion. “I think I can get used to this real quick. Congratulations, Son.”

  Zach beamed at his father and accepted the hand shake he offered. “Thanks.”

  All eyes pivoted toward the doorway as the pediatric nurse entered, pushing the portable bassinet into the room. “Here’s the other half of the dazzling duo. We’ll leave them in here to visit for another thirty minutes or so.”

  Cat waved at the woman. “Thank you, Ms. Jackie.”

  John, the younger, stood to get a better look at his granddaughter. He grunted then cast a glance his son’s direction. “Oh man. Are you ever gonna be in trouble in about fourteen years.”

  Zach snorted. “I hear that.” He reached out for his son and turned to his grandfather who was finishing up with his hand-washing, obviously anticipating his turn. “Paw Paw, you want to hold your great-grandson?”

  John David Ferguson, the elder, deposited the paper towel into the trash receptacle and turned, wearing a gleeful expression. “Well, hell yeah. Why else would I have suffered through your dad’s bad driving skills?” He took over the chair the younger John had previously occupied and clapped his hands together. “Hand him over.”

  Cathryn’s heart nearly burst with pride as Zachary’s grandfather held her son for the first time. Remarkably, the infant’s eyes opened wide and stared into the older man’s face, as though studying him, or committing to memory, every laugh line, every wrinkle, and every work worn surface. Tears pooled and made their own trails down her cheeks. The current scenario did so much to warm her heart, filling the gap left by her own missing father. If I can’t have dad here, at least I have this.

  Paw Paw John chuckled as he checked out her baby boy. “Hello, young man. What’s your name?”

  “Caleb …” Cathryn spoke, barely over a whisper. “Caleb Paul Ferguson.”

  Without looking up, John David nodded and smiled. “Paul, after your father. I’m glad.” He adjusted his hold on the child. “Caleb Paul Ferguson,” he repeated. “That’s a fine name for my great-grandson.”

  Cat turned as Zach’s dad, John Michael, cleared his throat loudly. She watched him gently lift her daughter from the bed and cradle her in his arms. His gaze ricocheted from his granddaughter, to his daughter-in-law several times. Finally he smiled, nodding in obvious approval.

  “Yep, she’s got her beautiful mother’s features written all over her.” He walked over to the chair next to where his father sat, holding Caleb, and seated himself. “What’s her name?”

  Cat held her breath as Zach answered his father’s question.

  “Her name is Cassandra, Pop—Cassandra Beth Ferguson.”

  John Michael’s eyes widened, obviously pleased, as he met Cathryn’s tearful gaze. “Beth …” His voice broke as he cleared it and continued. “Bethie would love that. Thank you, Cat.”

  Cathryn nodded, unable to stem the steady flow of tears. She gratefully accepted the tissue her husband handed her—was even more grateful for his presence as he grasped her hand and sat beside her on the bed.

  Cathryn’s emotions bubbled over in a plethora of feelings—proud, privileged, and truly blessed for being able to witness these most special of moments. She regretted being too out of it last night to see her own mother’s initial reactions to her newest grandchildren. She suspected her mom had shed more than a few tears, and that Kellie had not been able to stop smiling.

  But this—this presence of four generations of Fergusons, sharing this space, at this same moment in time—this was something special. It was almost as if they’d come full circle; the old, melded with three younger generations, to form an entirely new sense of reality for all of them.

  And she was lucky enough to be a part of it.

  Chapter 25

  A Memory for John Michael

  John Michael checked the time, realized their visit was nearly over. “Before we go, I’d like to hold them both at the same time. May I?” He grunted in satisfaction as Zach placed Caleb in the crook of his free arm. His gaze flipped continuously from one to the other, noticing the various differences and similarities of facial features between his two grandchildren. “Look at ‘em, just look at ‘em, would you?”

  John David, the elder, walked over to his son, and chuckled. “Yep, that’s an armload of pooters, right there.”

  John Michael nodded and laughed in agreement. He heard a soft knock at the door, but didn’t bother to look up. Another in the continual flow of nurses or techs, he supposed, who’d attended his daughter-in-law’s every need. He blocked out all conversation as he concentrated all his attention on his two beautiful grandchildren.

  “Don’t you look good holding those two?”

  The pleasant female voice broke into his silent reverence of the two infants. “Probably not as good as I feel, but thanks anyway.” He looked up, grinning, and did a double-take at the woman standing before him. “Cynthia?” He squinted, to make sure he was seeing correctly.

  Hands resting on her trim hips, the woman smiled and nodded. “I would have known you anywhere, John Michael. I swear, other than that silver sprinkled in your hair, you look exactly the same.” She crossed her arms. “You suck for that, you know
.”

  “Cynthia Anne Robicheaux?”

  The pretty redhead’s green eyes sparkled with laughter. “Nobody’s called me that in a long time.” She touched the name tag clipped to her lab coat’s lapel. “It’s Ellender now. I married a man from Oklahoma.”

  He frowned, trying to recall having seen her in the past 40 years since graduating high school. “Is that where you’ve been all this time?”

  She nodded. “Two weeks after graduation, I took a bus to Oklahoma to spend a month with my grandparents. I met Gene my fourth week there and never returned.”

  “You’re here now.”

  She nodded. “Six months now. I lost Gene last year and our three kids have scattered to different parts of the continent. I figured I’d come back on this end and spend some time with mom while I still can.”

  “I’m sorry about your husband. Beth’s gone too.” He smiled as he remembered a particular incident. “Your mom used to bake the best red velvet cake I’ve ever had. Oh man, that pudding-like filling, and cream cheese icing. Damn, it was good.”

  Cynthia nodded exuberantly. “She still does.”

  The elder John cleared his throat and spoke up. “Robicheaux? Are you Ham and Bess’s daughter?”

  “Yes sir, do you remember me?”

  He slapped his thigh and laughed. “I sure do. I remember you tagging along with your dad everywhere he went.”

  “I bugged you mercilessly to see those new chicks every time you got in a new batch.” She went over to give him a hug. “How are you Mr. John?”

  He nodded. “I’m good. And Johnny’s right about your mother’s red velvet cakes. That’s when people baked ‘em from scratch. Not these crappy mixes that don’t have any taste.” He shook his head. “It broke my heart not to make your dad’s funeral a few years back. I was with my wife at Lourdes Hospital in Lafayette. She was fighting her own battle with the big ’C’ at the time.”

  Cynthia’s face dropped. “Oh. Did she …”

  “No, she beat the cancer. But sometimes I wonder if …” He stopped, wiped his mouth with his hand.

  John Michael met Cynthia’s curious gaze. “Mom is in late stage Alzheimer’s.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She reached out to his father, touched his arm gently. “Have you looked into the groups here for the families of those afflicted with the disease? Sometimes it helps to talk about it with others in the same situation.”

  He cleared his throat with a loud harrumph. “Thanks, maybe I’ll look into that.”

  John Michael and Zach exchanged looks equal in their levels of skepticism. Both implying, Yeah, old man, sure you will.

  “So …” Cynthia swiveled and pointed to Zachary. “You’re the father, obviously. You look too much like John Michael not to be his son.”

  “I am, and extremely proud of it.”

  “Well, I need to speak to both you and your wife about a particular procedure for,” she checked at her paperwork, “Caleb.”

  “What procedure? Is something wrong?” Zach’s voice registered panic.

  John Michael groaned. “I’d guess she’s talking about a circumcision, son.”

  Cynthia gave him a quick nod. “You’d be correct. I’m here to answer any questions the two of you may have on the procedure, or to help you decide, one way or another.”

  John David stood quickly, adjusting his belt buckle. “Holy crap. I know I don’t need to be here for this conversation. Are you about ready to go, son?”

  “Sure am, Pop. That’s not anything I want to hear about, either.” John stood carefully, handed his granddaughter to Zach, and placed his grandson carefully back in his designated bassinet. “Poor little booger.” He gently tucked his grandson’s blanket around the tiny figure. “I hope they do a good job, for your sake. They can botch those things, you know.” He looked up at a host of eyes upon him. “Well, not me. I’m just sayin’.”

  His dad snorted. “Well, looks to me like your sayin’ ain’t helpin’ much. Let’s go, boy. It might be best to make our exit before they start tossing stuff at us.”

  John grabbed his hat and nodded at everyone. “I’ll be back tomorrow, probably without the old guy, since he finds my driving so appalling and all.” He found Cynthia’s eyes pinned to him. “Cyn.” He nodded, slipping in the nickname he’d called her in high school. “It sure was good to see you.”

  “You too, John.” She smiled. “Maybe I’ll see you again before they leave the hospital.”

  “I hope so.” He ducked out of the room, grateful his old man had exited the room without witnessing the wink she’d sent him. That old fart would jump to foregone conclusions in a heartbeat. He pulled the door quietly closed, and turned, only to have his father in his face, wearing a smug expression.

  “I gotta hit the head again, Johnny.”

  “Of course you do.” He shook his head as his dad disappeared into the men’s restroom. He stood there in the corridor, twirling his truck keys in his hands for a minute or two, thinking about that wink Cynthia had given him. What exactly, if anything, had she meant by that?

  “You’re still here.”

  He spun on his heel to see her approach, wearing the same smile that had captivated him all through high school. “Waiting on Pop, as usual.” He used his thumb to point at the restroom door. “His second home, lately.”

  “Enlarged prostate, huh?”

  “Yeah, but don’t let him hear you say that. He’s in denial.” He smoothed the rim of his hat trying to come up with a better topic of conversation.

  “Those are two beautiful grandchildren you have in there. Are they your first?”

  He nodded. “If Zach has anything to say about, they’ll be my last. He almost lost that sweet girl in there.”

  “I know. I heard it got serious in the delivery. But she seems to have recovered nicely. And it’s remarkable how well the babies have adjusted to the environment outside the womb. Not a single sign of respiratory distress, none of the usual complications to babies of premature birth. Mother and babies are perfectly fine. There’s no reason to believe her next pregnancy will be troublesome. Each one is different.”

  He waved his finger between the two of them. “You and I know that, but who’s going to convince my son?” He shrugged. “Of course, if Cat wants more children, I have a feeling they’ll have another go round at it. So, what did they decide about the procedure?”

  She grinned. “Helmet head.”

  John winced. “Poor little guy. When?”

  “Since they were a month early, I’ve advised them to wait a couple of weeks. They’ll decide whether to bring him back here, or use their own pediatrician, or even use a specialist.”

  He cocked his head at her answer. “I didn’t realize the medical profession had circumcision specialists.” Her laughter rang out between them.

  “Well, not specifically for that, but a pediatric urologist. Whomever they choose, your grandson will be fine.” She grabbed her buzzing phone and read the text. “I need to be somewhere.” She slipped it back into her pocket and grinned at him. “You know, some of my best memories from home involve your dad’s feed store.”

  He nodded. “The shipments of chicks, I know.”

  She lifted one shoulder. “Yes—and those hay bales.” Lifting her hand, she wiggled her fingers in a wave. “See you around, John Michael.”

  She spun on her heel and walked away from him at a brisk pace. She’d always been a tiny little thing, and from the looks of it, she still was.

  He turned, paced an impatient trail in front of the restroom door, waiting for his father.

  He froze in his tracks. Hay bales. Suddenly, a memory flooded his mind, as vividly as if it had happened yesterday, instead of forty-four years ago.

  He’d spent all afternoon unloading a trailer full of hay bales. She’d shown up with her dad toward the end of it and offered to help. When he said he didn’t need help from a girl, she’d hung around to watch. He’d nearly busted a gut trying to impress her with his
speed and strength at handling the bales. He couldn’t exactly remember the details, but somehow he’d ended up kissing Cyn behind the widest, tallest stack he could find. He’d forgotten all about the late summer event that had provided him with enough fantasizing to last all throughout junior high and most of high school.

  John swiveled in the direction she’d headed, just in time to see her turn back for a second look at him. Still within earshot, he caught her lighthearted laughter as she sent him a final wave and turned a corridor to disappear from view.

  How the hell had he forgotten Cynthia Anne Robicheaux?

  Chapter 26

  July 26th - 8 Weeks A.D. (After Delivery)

  The Death of Medically Advised Abstinence

  “Hello beautiful. What’s up?”

  Cat smiled at her husband’s phone salutation, knowing she was about to deliver a message that would rock his world. “You need to get home, Zachary. You need to get home—now.”

  “Oh … God. Really?”

  “Yep.”

  “I was about to head home anyway. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  “Don’t kill yourself getting over here. I’m too horny to handle widowhood with any kind of class. But hurry.”

  “Babe, I’m already in the truck.”

  As proof, she heard the roar of his engine. “See you in a bit.” Cathryn ended the call. She dabbed Zach’s favorite perfume on her pulse points, checked her appearance in the mirror one more time before exiting the master bath.

  Nearly three months.

  That’s how long it had been. Three long months since she’d made love to her husband, due to unforeseen complications. Ah, but tonight the medically advised abstinence would come to an abrupt halt. It couldn’t happen too soon for her.

  Everything was perfect. The house sparkled, she’d changed the sheets on the bed, even sprinkled the fitted sheet with a sinfully expensive perfumed powder that made them feel like cool, delicious silk. She’d lit candles an hour ago when she’d stepped into the shower. The master suite smelled luscious. Not that she even expected poor Zach to notice.