Daydreams

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Daydreams Page 6

by Marcia Lynn McClure


  As she entered the Center, she turned to see Christian peel out in the truck, leaving Jill in a cloud of burned-rubber dust.

  “Nice!” Sayler giggled as she entered the Center. She felt happy and smiled at the unexpected turn of events. She had seen the look of sudden awareness on her brother’s face when he had studied Monica’s pretty face after Jill slapped her. Jill was history! Furthermore, something in her was whispering of possibilities—possibilities concerning the fulfillment of Monica’s lifelong daydreams of Christian.

  Sayler’s smile and good mood faded, however, as she looked up to see Bo standing at the front desk. Denay handed him some papers, and he signed them. Panic leapt to her throat. He was leaving! For some reason, she had assumed he would leave later in the day, that she would have one more chance to see him, laugh with him, be with him, soak in his fantastic existence.

  Slowly she walked toward the desk, choking back tears and trying to swallow the enormous lump of disappointment and heartache in her throat.

  “You’re late, Sayler,” Denay said as Sayler approached. Bo looked up and smiled. She forced a halfhearted smile in return.

  “Check the schedule, Denay. I’m in at eight today,” Sayler said. She was in no mood to deal with Denay’s trash.

  “There you are,” Bo said, still smiling at her. “I was afraid I would miss you.”

  “You’re leaving already?” Sayler asked, leaning on the front desk for support. She glanced at Denay, embarrassed at the triumphant, knowing expression on the woman’s face.

  “Yeah,” Bo answered. “Back to real life. Finally!”

  Sayler smiled, in spite of the ache in her chest. She wasn’t ready to give him up! She had thought she would have more time, be able to prepare herself better. But he was leaving, and suddenly, summer didn’t seem as bright and warm.

  “There’s my brother,” he said, looking beyond her to the exit doors. Sayler glanced behind her to see a black convertible pull up before the Center’s front doors. “I’m glad you made it in before I left. I wanted to thank you.”

  “For what?” Sayler asked. It was a struggle, a brutal fight to keep from bursting into tears, to keep from throwing her arms around him, begging for his affection.

  “For making this a good experience,” he said. “I mean, the food was good, it was quiet, clean. But the best part was definitely the lip-balm-toting candy stripper.”

  Sayler forced another smile. “Thanks,” she said. “And…and you were my favorite coma patient ever.”

  Bo chuckled and smiled at Sayler. “Good,” he said. She fancied his smile was a bit melancholy too. Maybe she had made an impression on him after all.

  “Okay, Mr. Booker,” Denay interrupted, pushing a wheelchair out from behind the desk. “Your paperwork is all finished. We just need to wheel you out, and you’re good to go.”

  “I can walk out,” he said to her.

  “Sorry,” Denay said. “It’s our policy. Just like leaving a hospital.”

  Bo sighed, shrugged his shoulders, and sat down in the wheelchair. Denay grinned another triumphant smile at Sayler.

  “Actually,” Bo said, pointing to Sayler, “can she wheel me out?”

  Sayler sensed the hot, crimson blush rise to her face, aflame with simultaneous delight and aching anxiety. She watched Denay’s lips indignantly tighten until even her far too pinkish-purple lip gloss could no longer define them. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at Sayler, one eye twitching twice with barely restrained annoyance.

  “Certainly, Mr. Booker,” Denay said through clenched teeth. “Be careful, Sayler,” she instructed, her eyes narrowing even more. “We wouldn’t want you dumping Mr. Booker out of the chair and injuring him again.”

  Sayler nodded and watched her own trembling hands take hold of the wheelchair grips. Slowly she began pushing the chair toward the exit doors. She could hardly breathe! Her heart hammered painfully within her chest. She wanted so very much to cry. He was leaving! Bo Booker was leaving, and she would never see him again. She was so torn up inside, so miserable at the knowledge, she couldn’t even enjoy the utter triumph over Denay he had just handed her.

  She glanced back to see Fabiana join Denay at the front desk. Both women glared at her as the exit doors opened. Swallowing hard, she pushed the wheelchair through the door.

  A tall young man resembling Bo stepped out of the driver’s seat of the black convertible at the curb.

  “What’s up, my brother?” the man said, smiling at Bo and nodding a friendly greeting to Sayler. Sayler managed to pull the wheelchair to a stop a split second before Bo bolted from it.

  “Hey, man!” Bo greeted, taking the man’s hand. The two men linked thumbs, gripped fists, and leaned forward to bump shoulders briefly, patting each other on the back twice. Sayler couldn’t help but smile at their obvious delight in seeing one another.

  “I’ve come to bust you out of this place, man,” the man said. “You’re looking good!”

  “I’m feeling good,” Bo replied.

  “Well, I guess so,” the man said, winking at Sayler. He was flirting with her, and she felt herself blush again.

  Bo chuckled a moment. “Ignore my brother, Sayler,” he told her. “He’s a shameless flirt. But the chicks sure dig him.”

  “The chicks do dig me,” the man chuckled.

  “This is Sayler,” Bo said. “She was my candy stripper while I was here.”

  “Nice!” the man said, raising his eyebrows and smiling.

  Sayler blushed again and stammered, “Candy striper. I…I work here.”

  “Joey Booker,” the man said, offering his hand to Sayler.

  “My pleasure,” Sayler said, taking his hand. Her blush deepened as he unexpectedly raised her hand to his lips, lightly kissing the back of it.

  “The pleasure is all mine, Sayler the candy stripper,” Joey Booker teased. Sayler was uncomfortable now. He was, as Bo had said, a shameless flirt.

  “Man, give it up!” Bo chuckled. “I saw her first.”

  “Too bad,” Joey said, winking at Sayler again.

  “Go get my stuff, and let’s get going,” Bo said.

  “Oh! I’m so sorry!” Sayler exclaimed. She had been so rattled by Bo’s leaving, by his asking for her to wheel him out, that she’d completely forgotten to gather his bag of belongings. “I’ll run back and—” she began, turning to go back into the Center.

  She caught her breath, her heart nearly stopping as Bo caught her wrist, however. She looked back at him, breathless from his touch.

  He smiled, winked at her, and said, “It’s all right. Let Joey get it.”

  “No problem,” Joey said, smiling at Sayler again as he walked past her and into the Center.

  Sayler’s heart was hammering so rapidly it was beginning to hurt! Bo didn’t immediately let go of her wrist. In fact, his hand now clasped her own, and a wonderful warmth was traveling up her arm and through her entire body.

  “I…uh…I want to thank you, again,” he said, lowering his voice. His eyes were so mesmerizing. She couldn’t believe such a handsome and wonderful man was even speaking to her, let alone thanking her for something. “You made the stay…bearable.”

  “Amusing, at least,” she said.

  He smiled and nodded, reaching into his back pocket and retrieving his wallet.

  “Here,” he said, pulling out one of his business cards and handing it to her. “If you ever need anything—you know, like a summer job or something if those two wenches in there get too hard to handle—come and see me.”

  Sayler looked at the card. “‘Booker Architecture and Contracting,’” she read from the card she had read from once before.

  “Yeah. Me and Joey run a good ship,” he said. “And I mean it. If you ever want a job or something, come and see me. It’s just right downtown on Third and Maple.”

  Sayler smiled, delighted by his thoughtfulness. It was a very kind, friendly gesture.

  “Thank you,” Sayler said.

  “I’m
serious, Sayler,” he told her then. “We hire kids for short, temporary jobs all the time.”

  She smiled at him. He had no way of fathoming his lumping her in with teenage temp job workers had cut her deeply. Even though she knew full well—it’s what she was.

  “Man!” Joey said, as he stepped through the exit doors. “What do you have in here? A camel?”

  “A camel?” Bo chuckled. “Man, you are so random.”

  “Oh, and by the way,” Joey continued. “That kind of homely chick in there said you might want this too.”

  Sayler’s heart pinched with humiliation as Joey handed Bo her copy of Green Eggs and Ham.

  “I mean, whatever, bro,” Joey chuckled as Bo took the book.

  “I’m sorry,” Sayler said, reaching out and taking hold of the book. “She’s just being—”

  “But I do want it,” Bo said, pulling it out of her grasp and shoving it in the open duffel bag Joey held.

  “They’re just being­—” Sayler began, glancing through the glass of the exit doors to see Denay and Fabiana smirking at her.

  “Throw that in the car for me, will you, Joey?” Bo interrupted.

  “You got it,” Joey said, moving to the trunk of the car.

  As his brother opened the trunk, Bo asked, “Now, you’re really eighteen, right?” Sayler smiled and frowned at the same time, puzzled.

  “You’ve asked me that like twice already. Why?” she asked.

  “Just making sure I won’t go to jail,” Bo said, smiling at her.

  “Go to jail?” Sayler asked in her naive innocence. “For what?”

  Sayler drew in a quick, startled breath as Bo moved closer to her, taking her face between his strong hands.

  “For this,” he whispered a moment before he kissed her. Sayler held her breath. She thought she might faint as she felt his lips press to hers in a tender kiss. Lingering as it was, the kiss was far too brief. Yet Sayler was breathless and weakened from it as he pulled away, smiling down at her and caressing her soft lips with one thumb. He still held her face in his hands, and this awareness, coupled with the residual sensation of his kiss, left her knees weakened. Instinctively, her hands gripped his forearms for support.

  She had to be caught up in some sort of surreal fantasy. Surely Bo Booker hadn’t just kissed her. Surely she was dreaming! Yes. That was it. She would snap too at any moment to realize she was only daydreaming.

  Still, his touch, the warmth of his hands on her cheeks was real. It had to be! The thrilling tingle still dancing on her tender lips was real.

  “Don’t let them beat you down,” he said, still caressing her lips with his thumb. “You’re so much better than they are. And they know it. Okay?”

  “O-okay,” Sayler managed to respond.

  He smiled and winked. She felt his hands press more firmly against her face for a moment. He leaned down a bit as if he would kiss her again. His lips were just a breath from her own, but he seemed to change his mind. He had reconsidered kissing her again. She wanted to cry as he dropped his hands from her face, her hands releasing his arms.

  “Thanks, Sayler,” he said. He opened the car’s passenger-side door as Joey closed the trunk and slid into the driver’s seat. “You’re a special girl,” he added.

  Sayler was barely able to restrain the tears begging to fill her eyes. She didn’t want to be a special girl Bo Booker had kissed for the sake of one-upping Denay and Fabiana. She wanted to be a desirable, irresistible woman! A woman he would have kissed again.

  Still, she was nothing if not polite. And so she said, “Thank you, Mr. Booker.”

  He nodded at her, smiling rather disappointedly, and started to get into the car. Sayler, still focusing on trying to restrain her tears, gasped as he suddenly turned, took her face in his hands, and kissed her again. This kiss was applied with a firm determination and followed by another, longer-lasting kiss. His lips were parted when they took hers this third time. His kiss lingered—firmly applied, eagerly accepted, warm, and moist.

  Sayler did not even realize her eyes were closed until she felt him break their kiss. She looked up at him as he caressed her tender lips with one thumb. He smiled down at her, an expression of satisfaction on his face.

  “Goodbye…my little candy stripper,” he said. He released her and got into the car. As the car pulled away from the curb, he smiled and winked at her.

  The car merged onto the main road, and Sayler was finally able to take a breath.

  “Oh my heck,” she breathed as tears, begging for release, finally spilled from her eyes.

  Bo Booker had kissed her. He had kissed her! And more than once! Sayler would never forget the feel of his kiss, the way her breath had abandoned her, the wild beating of her heart. It had been a dream come true! A literal dream come true. She brushed the tears from her cheeks, still in awe it had actually happened.

  She was euphoric from his kiss and, at the same time, heartbroken at his leaving. She wondered how she would ever completely enjoy life again. How could she when the most wonderful man on the face of the earth had already touched her existence and gone?

  Slowly she turned around and entered the Center. Her legs were still weak from the effects of Bo’s kiss. She brushed several tears from her cheeks and inhaled a deep breath. At least—at least it had happened. At least she had met the magnificent Bo Booker, been his friend in a manner, experienced the warm moisture of his electrifying kiss.

  “It’s against the rules to consort with patients, Sayler,” Denay said.

  Sayler looked up to see Denay and Fabiana glaring at her. Their expressions were that of pure jealousy, and Sayler reveled in it.

  “He’d signed his release papers, Denay,” Sayler said. “He wasn’t a patient anymore.”

  “You were on the clock when—” Denay began.

  “Oh, and by the way,” Sayler interrupted. “I never did thank you two, did I?”

  “Thanks us? For what?” Fabiana asked.

  “For lying to me that day he arrived. For sending me into his room,” Sayler said. “I know you meant to be cruel. But I do want to thank you because, in the end, it really worked to my favor.” Sayler smiled and added, “Have a good day, girls.”

  Hiding her heartache, Sayler headed down the physical therapy wing. Stepping into the room that had been Bo’s, she inhaled deeply, hoping to catch one more whiff of his cologne. She smiled when she noticed the music playing softly. She walked to the CD player, another tear trickling down her face as she saw the repeat mode button flashing.

  She closed her eyes, remembering the moments she had spent dancing with Bo to the very same song.

  “Ooh baby, baby,” she whispered as Linda Ronstadt sang the last chorus. When it finished, Sayler pushed the power button, ending the song’s repeat.

  He had been wonderful, a fantastic summer daydream. She’d seen him, touched him, loved him. Sayler Christy inwardly admitted to herself she had fallen in love with the dashing bachelor Bo Booker. She’d love him forever. She knew she would. Life would go on but never quite the same way. She’d be happy, have boyfriends, go to college, get married someday. She had no doubts. Still, she felt with every fiber of her being, Bo Booker would ever linger in her heart and mind—a beautiful daydream she lived once.

  *

  “You have to open it now,” Monica demanded. “You are going to die! I swear, it’s the best Christmas gift you’ll ever get!”

  Sayler sat down on her bed as Monica handed her the gift. Christmas was more than a week away. She shook her head, unable to fathom for a moment how fast the year had spent. It seemed like yesterday she’d started her first class at the U. It seemed like the day before that she’d stood on the curb in front of the Center while Bo Booker kissed her.

  She closed her eyes for a moment as the familiar twinge of heartache pricked in her chest. Sayler still couldn’t think of Bo Booker without feeling lonely and heartbroken. Several days after he’d left the Center the summer before, Monica found a photo and art
icle about him in the local paper. He’d attended the big Bennett Ball and ended up in the society page as the city’s “Most Eligible Bachelor.” Sayler had cut the article and accompanying photo out of the paper. Nearly six months later, it remained hidden under a book on the nightstand by her bed.

  Sayler shook her head, amazed at how the slightest contemplation always led her thoughts to Bo Booker—even after so many months.

  “I mean it, Say,” Monica said. “It is totally unbelievable!”

  “No offense, Monie,” Sayler said, smiling, “but it’s obviously a calendar. Nothing else is shaped like this.” Sayler studied the flat gift, which surely measured out as a perfect twelve-inch by twelve-inch square.

  “Maybe,” Monie said, feigning ignorance. “Either way…I cannot possibly wait another week for you to open this! Besides, if I do, you might see one, and it will totally spoil it for you and me.”

  “Fine,” Sayler said. She shook her head, amused by her friend’s excitement. She wasted no time with careful unwrapping—just quickly tore the pretty green-and-red Christmas wrap away from the calendar. The moment she saw the cover, she laughed out loud. “The City’s Top Twelve Bachelors?” she said as she saw the title of the calendar and the photo of a handsome, shirtless young man on the cover. “‘All proceeds from the sale of this calendar are donated to the Children’s Cancer Hospital,’” she read aloud. “Oh, my heck, Monie! How funny!”

  “You think it’s funny, do you?” Monica asked, an enormous, victorious sort of smile spreading across her face.

  “Yeah, I do. A beefcake calendar of regular guys from here? Come on.”

  “Wait until you see who June’s bachelor is,” Monica said, folding arms across her chest and biting her lip as a mischievous smile spread across her pretty face.

  Understanding instantly washed over Sayler. “You’re kidding me,” she breathed.

  “No, I’m not,” Monica assured her. “Go ahead. Skip right to June.”

  Quickly, Sayler opened the calendar, impatiently flipping through the pages of months until she came to June.

  “No way!” she breathed. Astonished delight tickled the corners of her mouth as she gazed into the dreamy eyes of none other than the dashing Bo Booker!

 

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