by Leger, Lori
Toby had pulled her close with one arm and buried his face in her hair. “Mmmm, babe. What do you say to staying home to play hooky?” he had murmured, pulling her closer. “I don’t have anything pressing. Do you? We could send the girls off to school and spend the rest of the day making love.”
Torturing herself further, she recalled the entire conversation—the pitiful excuse she’d used to turn her husband down.
“I can’t babe. We have that deadline and Carrie and Jackson both worked late last night so I could go to the girls’ dance recital. I can’t leave Carrie to deal with ‘Satan’ all alone.”
He’d groaned. “Carrie doesn’t think he’s Satan. You’re the only one who does. Don’t you think it’s time to drop that ridiculous grudge you have against him? Jackson’s an okay guy once you get to know him,” Toby had insisted.
“He’s a grumpy ass, even if he is the best engineer we have in our department,” she’d countered. “He’s only grumpy because of that bat shit crazy, she-bitch wife of his.”
While Toby never missed an opportunity to defend his friend, she pressed her case. “Chloe’s depressed, like I’d be if I had to live with that man.”
“To forgive is divine, Babe. Maybe it’s time you try some of that.”
“I will, just as soon as he apologizes to me.”
She could still see the look on his face as she slipped out of bed to get ready for her workday. He’d put one arm behind his head to watch her dress and grinned as she stuck her tongue out at him.
“You’re sexiest when you’re being stubborn, you know that? Come back to bed, Giselle.”
“I can’t sweetie. But it’s Friday. Save that thought for tomorrow night. The girls will be at Carrie and Sam’s for the night and we can do whatever we want once we leave the charity function.”
Giselle threw her arm over her eyes and suppressed a sob. She’d blown the last chance to make love to her husband. Toby hadn’t seen tomorrow night.
But she had, though she barely remembered it. Her doctor-prescribed, drug-induced, state of semi-consciousness had subdued her screams and hysterical sobs. Even then, it hadn’t stopped the soul-crushing ache of loss that had been her constant companion since that earth shattering moment. The moment she’d heard her husband was gone.
Giselle wiped her eyes, thinking regrets were all she had left. Regret she hadn’t made more time for Toby; regret for how she’d treated Jackson; regret that she’d never again be able to look into the gorgeous brown eyes of her husband. She never imagined it was possible to act so normal while feeling so completely lost inside.
Dear God, please give me the strength to get through this day. Please let me be strong for my daughters. Please send the help we need to get through this.
Then I can fall apart.
Giselle sniffed loudly, then attempted the most difficult and painful physical act she’d gone through since the accident; getting out of bed after sleeping through the night without a painkiller. She tried to sit up, but was in so much pain she broke out in a cold sweat.
She rolled out of bed. The action produced a wave of nausea so severe she had to sit until it passed. She finally maneuvered herself out of the door toward the end of the hallway, leaning against the wall for support while taking shallow breaths. Her daughters sat at the breakfast table eating—chattering with Sam, Jackson, and Bill.
She finally managed to gasp a single word. “Help.”
Jackson shot out of his chair to reach her before she collapsed.
“Sam, get her pain killers, two of them, and a glass of milk.” He helped her to sit.
Lexie’s voice rose in panic. “What’s wrong with mama?”
Jackson spoke, his tone calm and soothing. “It’s okay, sweetie. Your mom just slept through the night and doesn’t have any pain medication left in her system. Here, Giselle, take them with milk and when you feel like you can eat something, let me know.”
Giselle chased the two pills with a swallow of milk. She held on to the glass with shaking hands, and leaned to one side as she fought a wave of dizziness.
“Whoa, where do you think you’re going?” Jackson took the glass and sat beside her to support her.
“I guess-I need-to set my alarm-to take a dose during the night.” Her breath came in shallow pants.
“That may be a good idea for the next week or so. Try to drink the rest of this.” He pushed the glass of milk at her.
She pushed it away. “Don’t want it.”
Jackson faced off her irritated gaze with a look of warning. “Pain killers on an empty stomach? Ever had dry heaves with a broken rib, Giselle?”
Giselle thought about it, hating to admit he was right. Reluctantly, she downed the rest of the milk then stared at the men. “What’s-going on?”
“I took Carrie’s place this morning,” Sam explained. “Then Jackson and Bill showed up with breakfast.”
She checked out the spread, glanced at Jackson. “You brought-breakfast?”
“I stopped off at Shoney’s and got an assortment from the breakfast buffet: scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, grits, hash browns, mushrooms in butter sauce. What’ll it be, madam?”
“A little of-everything. Don’t want-dry heaves.”
Jackson prepared a plate of food and sat it before her.
“You forgot to tell her about the pancakes with strawberry sauce and whipped cream. They’re awesome, Mom,” Mackenzie added.
Giselle frowned. “You holding-out on me?”
“I didn’t know if you could handle anything sweet.”
She thought again of dry heaving and shuddered. “Right.” Giselle looked at Lexie’s face, covered in strawberry sauce and whipped cream. “Lex. Did you-get any inside-your mouth?”
Bill chuckled. “Don’t worry, she’s eaten plenty.”
Jackson leaned forward to address her. “Do you want coffee or juice?”
No contest. “Coffee.”
He brought it to her. “Now eat.”
She pointed her fork at him. “You’re not-the boss-of me here,” she gasped. “What time is it?” She attempted to bring a small bite of scrambled egg to her mouth, only to have it fall off the fork she had gripped in her trembling hand.
“A little before seven.” Jackson commandeered the fork to bring a bite of egg up to her mouth. She glared at him, mouth closed tightly. She relented after his better than average imitation of dry heaving.
“Looks like-you’re no stranger-to dry heaves,” she gasped, accepting another forkful of food.
He shrugged. “I went to college.”
She nodded and concentrated on eating as the meds began to kick in. After several minutes the hitch in her side eased enough to speak a full sentence
“Why are you two up so early?” she asked her daughters.
“I got up to pee.”
“Lex. It’s use the bathroom,” Giselle corrected.
Lexie gave a drama queen sigh. “I got up to ‘use the bathroom’ and I heard them all talking. I was so happy to see Jackson, I stayed up and told Mac that Bill was here. Jackson’s my favorite, but Bill is hers.”
Giselle barely suppressed a snort as she glanced at the two men.
Jackson shrugged. “We can’t help it if we’re irresistible to women.”
She scowled. “Not all women.”
“To the only two who count,” Bill added.
“I could get used to being somebody’s favorite.” Jackson hugged Lexie.
Giselle remembered her prayer asking God to send them help. Maybe these two men were the answer for her girls. Nobody could ease her pain over losing Toby, but if her children didn’t suffer, she could bear it easier.
Thank you, God. I owe you one.
As soon as the thought formed, the pills seemed to take effect, and the pain eased off immediately. She took her first deep breath since waking this morning.
I guess I owe you two.
Jackson leaned close and spoke in a low whisper. “Percocet kicked in?”
>
She nodded. “Does it show?”
“Significantly. Think you can feed yourself now?”
“Yes, thank you.” She sat a little straighter and finished her breakfast as her daughters shamelessly manipulated the three men at the tale. Giselle shook her head when Lexie went to give Jackson a kiss and burped, most unladylike, in his face, making him jerk back with surprised laughter.
“Whoa! That’s a first,” he said.
Lexie giggled through an apology. “Sorry Jackson, that was on a asscident.”
“Not a problem, Lex.” He laughed and accepted a kiss from her anyway. When Lexie attempted to climb up on his knee, Jackson swung her easily onto his lap.
“She’ll get strawberry sauce all over your nice suite,” Giselle said. “She makes Toby late all the time …” She froze, as the reality of no more Toby hit her full force. “I mean, she made him late. He’d have to change his shirt—” She paused, having to swallow the lump in her throat to finish. “Before he could leave the house in the mornings,” she finished in a whisper, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “Excuse me, I have to get ready.”
Sam reached for his cell phone. “Do you need me to call Carrie?”
“No, I’ll be fine. Could someone clean Lexie up, please?”
“I got that,” Jackson said, getting up to wet a paper towel and beginning to wipe the child down. “Between the three of us, we could probably get the girls ready for you and give you and Carrie a break. I can’t do their hair, though.”
“Mac can do her own hair, and I’ll tend to Lexie’s.”
“Mom, can you braid my hair today?” Mac asked, running up to her mother. “Daddy liked it in one long braid, and I want to look nice for daddy.”
“Sure baby, when I’m done.” Giselle gently smoothed the child’s bangs back away from her forehead. She suddenly pulled her daughter’s head close to her own body and hugged her tightly. “Daddy will like that.” She placed a kiss firmly on the top of the dark silky head that was so much like Toby’s. The action made her remember that she would never again feel Toby’s hair against her lips, and it brought tears to her eyes. She wiped at them hastily, and released her daughter before turning toward the hallway. “I’ll lay their clothes out for you.”
“I wish mama wasn’t so sad.”
“I know, Lex. She’ll be sad for a while, but it won’t last forever,” Jackson said, capturing one of her silky ringlets between his fingertips.
“Maybe God will send her someone else to make her happy.”
“Maybe so.” He carried her to the sink.
“I don’t think I’ll like not having a daddy. You think he could send her someone who could be a good daddy for us?”
Jackson wet another paper towel and gave Lexie’s face a second cleaning. Considering the sticky level, she may even need a third. “Maybe he will one day, Lex, but you can’t rush something like that. You and Mac and your mom—you all loved your daddy a whole lot. It would be hard for someone to step in and take his place.”
She lifted her pixie face, stared at him with huge green eyes. “What about you, Jackson?”
He tackled a missed spot of sauce under her chin. “What about me?”
“You already hug and smell like a daddy. Could you take his place?”
Jackson’s hand froze in midair. “I do?”
She nodded enthusiastically, sending her ringlets bouncing.
He lowered his hand, completely aware that this conversation had garnered Sam and Bill’s undivided attention. “I’m kind of curious, Lex. How do daddies hug and smell?”
Her little forehead scrunched up in concentration. “My daddy always smelled good and so do you, but in a different way. And when daddy hugged me, I felt all warm and comfable. That’s how you make me feel.” Her eyes widened as she stared up at him. “Did I ‘splain it good enough, Jackson?”
Jackson blinked quickly then cleared his throat. “Yeah, Lex, you explained it fine.” He kissed her lightly on the forehead. “I believe that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
The group entered the funeral home, shaking the water from umbrellas and shedding raincoats. Toby’s girls were dressed in their finery, and hoped he approved from wherever he watched.
A somber Giselle dreaded the inevitable. She would never again run her fingers through the black silkiness of Toby’s hair, or gaze into the mesmerizing sexiness of his beautiful, brown eyes. Her daughters seemed to sense her distress, and abandoned their ‘favorite’ men to remain by her side for the service.
All too soon, it ended, and the occupants of the funeral home vacated the viewing room, leaving only family members behind.
Giselle faced the final moment with her daughters pressed closely to her side.
God give me the strength to do this.
She stood for her final viewing of the only man she’d ever loved. She stared at the face she adored. “Hey baby, I guess it’s time to give you up now.” Her chin trembled. Her entire body shook with the effort to control her emotions. She reached inside the casket. Touched his hair one last time. Leaned in to place a gentle kiss upon his unresponsive mouth. She patted his chest, straightened his tie, and touched each button on his shirt, anything to avoid leaving him. Her quiet sobbing grew in intensity as the pain of losing him became the harshest and cruelest of realities. She leaned over his casket to rest her face on his chest for the last time; the pain in her side nothing compared to the agony of her heart shattering.
Carrie and her daughters joined forces to support Giselle through the traumatizing transition of letting go. At some point her daughters had abandoned her for the comfort of Jackson and his uncle. Once she’d gained control of her emotions, Jackson lowered Lexie to the floor and she and Mac rushed to her side again.
They somberly left the room to wait outside while the six pallbearers prepared to carry Toby to his final resting place. The five male members of Carrie’s family had known him for nearly seven years and thought of him as an older brother, or a son, in Sam’s case. The sixth was Toby’s co-worker and close friend, Gordon.
By the end of the church service, the weather had grown less ominous. The rain diminished to a light drizzle by the time they arrived at the graveyard. People left their vehicles and began the walk to the tent, the snaps and pops of opening umbrellas punctuated the otherwise somber silence. The graveside service was a heartwarming tribute given by Father Mitch, the local priest, another friend of Toby’s. By his conclusion, the rain had stopped, the skies cleared.
“You see?” Father Mitch said, pointing to the sky. “Toby doesn’t want his girls to get wet.” The comment actually brought a smile to Giselle’s face. It was just the thing needed to lighten everyone’s mood. Giselle hugged Father Mitch, and thanked him for the beautiful words that she knew had been difficult for him to say without breaking down.
Giselle stood next to the casket, both hands splayed over the glossy mahogany, her head lowered, and filled with the scent of the gorgeous spray Carrie and her family had donated. She finally straightened, and plucked three roses for herself and her girls before pulling away from the casket. As soon as she stepped from under the covering, several shafts of sunlight broke through the clouds like spears through tufts of cotton.
Mackenzie pulled on her mother’s hand as she pointed upward. “Mom, look at that!”
Everyone turned and gasped at a perfectly defined rainbow on the horizon.
Lexie’s little voice squealed in delight. “Did Daddy send it for us, Mama?”
“I bet he did, baby. I bet he asked God to send us that rainbow so that we wouldn’t be so sad. He’s still taking care of us, isn’t he?”
“That’s just like daddy to do that for us,” Mac said.
“Yep, it sure is,” Lexie agreed. “Mama, can we go home now? I heard Carrie tell Bill that some daughters have brought a lot of food to our house, and I’m getting hungry.”
Jackson heard the comment and laughed.
Giselle
grinned at her daughter. “She’s probably talking about The Catholic Daughters, some nice ladies from our church.”
“Oh.” Lexie spun around. “Jackson, are you and Bill coming to our house to eat some food the Calflick Daughters brought?”
“We don’t want to impose,” he said, when Giselle faced him.
“You’re not imposing. The girls would be upset if you and Bill weren’t there.” She put her hand to her side and winced.
Jackson walked quickly over to support her. “Do you have your pain pills with you?”
“No, I forgot them at home, and it’s time, too.”
“Let’s get you home then.” He helped her into the limo and loaded the girls inside for her so they could leave.
The atmosphere inside Giselle’s home was lighthearted, largely due to her youngest daughter. Once Lexie realized she had a captive audience, she kept everyone laughing with the antics and ‘Lexi-isms’ she was famous for.
“Mama, did you know that Bill has a ranch, and he has horses, and cows, and even some little piggy goats that don’t grow very big at all.”
“I think he may have Pygmy goats,” Giselle corrected.
“I guess so. Anyway, he also has a big pond on his ranch where we could go fishing. He wants to cook us all a barbeque when your ribs don’t hurt you anymore. He said our whole family could go—Carrie’s and Sam’s, and our school friends, too. Can we go, Mama?”
“Maybe by the time school ends I’ll be feeling better and we could plan a day like that.”
“Can’t we plan it now, Mama?” she pleaded.
“Lex, you’re putting poor Bill on the spot.”
Bill stepped forward, lowered himself into the chair beside her. “It was my idea. As a matter of fact, Mac told me she and Lex both have birthdays coming up in July. One’s on a Friday and the other is the next Tuesday. How about planning a joint party for them on the Sunday? I’d love it if you’d say yes, Giselle. It would give this old man something to look forward to.”