Amy’s body reacted accordingly. She didn’t have to tell herself to do anything, her body had a will of its own and right now, it wanted Parker’s lips. She wanted Parker so badly that she gasped aloud when Parker’s mouth found her nipple.
She arched her back and grabbed the back of Parker’s head, pulling her in even closer. Her nipple hardened under Parker’s deft tongue. Parker wrapped her lips around the nipple and sucked it into her mouth.
“My god,” Amy said. She had never felt anything so urgent as her need to have Parker, to be inside Parker, to have Parker inside her.
Amy reached for Parker’s shirt buttons. But Parker pushed her hand away, saying, “Not yet.”
Amy hesitated.
“I want to explore all of you first,” Parker said. She undid Amy’s pants and they fell to the floor. Parker slid to her knees and pressed her face against Amy’s center.
Amy felt Parker’s warm breath inhaling and exhaling. She began to throb from the heat of Parker’s breath. She wrapped her fingers in Parker’s hair and gently guided Parker’s mouth to where her need was the most urgent.
Parker licked and nuzzled Amy through the fabric of her underwear. Parker hooked her thumbs in the waistband and slowly, oh so slowly, eased the bikinis down, and down further, and finally, Amy was naked.
Parker gripped Amy’s buttocks in both her hands and pulled her closer. She used her tongue to deftly explore. Amy moaned and inched her legs farther apart, giving Parker’s probing tongue more room.
Parker’s tongue darted between her folds, teasing and licking, and Amy almost fainted from the deliciousness of it all.
“I have to… sit down. Lie down,” Amy panted. “Before I fall down.”
Parker rose to her feet and guided Amy back to the bed. Amy sat naked before Parker. But she wasn’t ashamed, not even insecure. All she could feel was the need, the urgent, throbbing need beating between her legs with the same staccato rhythm as her heart.
Parker stood before Amy and slowly removed her own clothes. First her shirt. She tossed it to the floor. Then she stepped out of her pants and kicked them aside. Then her underwear.
Amy could wait no longer. She sat up, grabbed Parker’s bare hips and pulled her between her own legs.
“I need to feel your skin, all of your skin, against mine,” Amy said.
Parker pushed Amy back onto the bed. She lay on top of her, her body gliding over Amy’s. She ran her breasts over Amy’s breasts, their nipples touching, growing harder. Parker brushed her nipple down Amy’s stomach, and between her thighs. Amy moaned when she felt Parker’s erect nipple brush against her most sensitive spot. Her hips jerked with each flick until she simply couldn’t stand it any longer. She grabbed Parker under the arms pulled her up until they were face to face.
“I need you inside me, Parker,” Amy whispered urgently. “God, I need you. Now.”
Parker kissed Amy. Their lips touched, their tongues found each other, even their breath synchronized.
Amy moaned in pleasure as Parker’s fingers, one by one, entered her. Amy raised her hips, giving herself fully, urging her deeper. With each thrust of Parker’s hand, Amy moaned aloud.
“I want you in me, too,” Parker said. “I want us to come together.”
Amy reached down, easily slipping her fingers inside Parker. They rocked in unison, each filling the other. When Parker thrust her fingers deep, Amy did the same. When Parker pulled back, so did Amy. In and out, each mimicking the other, thrusting in unison, until Amy panted, “I’m so close. Come with me, Parker.”
“I am, god… I’m coming,” Parker breathed.
“Now.” Amy let herself go. She felt herself open, blossoming like a flower—like a time-lapse film where a flower blooms in the space of a few seconds.
They blossomed together, the two women, their bodies both giving and receiving at the same time in equal measure. The powerful waves of their orgasms swelled over them and swept them away, out to the lake and beyond.
Afterward, they lay in each other’s arms, the moonlight playing across their glistening bodies. “That was amazing,” Amy said. “I’ve never felt so…” She stopped. She was a writer and yet she had no words for what she had felt.
“Completed?” Parker asked.
“Yes,” Amy said. And that was exactly how she had felt while making love with Parker. Completed.
***
They made love slowly, on and off all night, until the sun peeked over the eastern edge of the lake. The last thought Amy had before falling asleep in Parker’s arms was, “I didn’t even need the lingerie.”
***
Amy woke that afternoon. She ran her hand along Parker’s side of the bed. It was cold. She sat up and smelled coffee. Okay, her lover from last night had not bailed on her. Instead, the woman of her dreams came in carrying a tray of coffee, toast, and strawberries, along with the Fenton Sentinel.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Parker said, putting the tray down on the bed between them. She kissed Amy’s forehead.
“That’s because someone, not mentioning any names, kept me up all night.”
“I wonder who that could have been,” Parker said with a smirk. She sat down and held up the paper. “Your story’s on the front page.”
“It is?” Amy took the paper. It was on the front page. “Not bad, if I do say so myself. Did you read it?”
Parker nodded. “The dog poop part was my favorite. I also like the part about establishing a GoFundMe for Mabel’s new dentures. That was a nice touch.” She poured them coffee.
“Poor Mabel.” Amy sipped her coffee. She didn’t know coffee could taste this good. She had a feeling that everything in her world was going to be better with Parker in it.
“Poor Mabel, my ass. She’s delighted.”
“How do you know that?” Amy asked. “Oh, never mind. It was Millie.”
“Yep. Woke me up this morning with a text. She tried to get particulars about our date. I refrained from commenting on our evening aerobics. I told her we were madly in love and that Steph outdid herself in the dinner department.”
“Oh no! We didn’t touch the dinner Steph slaved over. What’re we going to tell her?”
“I took care of that. I texted her and told her it was delicious.”
“A little white lie.”
“Not really. I didn’t tell her what was delicious.”
Amy laughed.
“So,” Parker said, “What’s next on our dating agenda?”
“This,” Amy said, placing a kiss on Parker’s cheek. “And this,” she muttered, kissing Parker’s other cheek. She placed a light kiss on Parker’s forehead, saying, “And this.”
“Is that all?”
Amy set her coffee cup on the nightstand. “No. There’s this,” she said, pulling Parker in closer.
They spent the rest of the day in bed, making love, and pausing only to replenish their energy with a picnic in the bedroom.
Amy was certain it was the best day of her life.
Chapter Twenty-One
Amy and Parker didn’t come up for air until Monday morning. “I’ll see you tonight then?” Parker asked.
“Uh, yeah. You’re not going to love me and leave me. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”
“Good. I like being stuck.” She kissed Amy ardently.
“Oh, no, you don’t. We both have to work,” Amy said. “Besides, I want you to keep wanting more.”
“No worries there,” Parker said. “We better get you home so you can change clothes.”
“I much prefer what I’ve been wearing this weekend,” Amy said. She’d been naked more than she’d been dressed. “Or maybe I should say what I haven’t been wearing.”
“Me too,” Parker said.
In the early morning light, Amy’s whole world glowed inside and out. They were right, all those love songs, movies, and books—love was a drug. Parker and Amy drove across town in blissful, contented silence. Amy didn’t even mind that she had only slept
a grand total of five hours in two days.
Parker pulled up in front of Millie’s house. They’d driven the van because Parker had to go fix the door frame, install a new door, and replace a back window on a rental house that tenants had trashed before they left town. Mrs. Lewinsky had left a distraught message over the weekend begging Parker to come and help her ASAP. Parker had called her back and told her she’d be there first thing Monday morning.
Amy had to go to work and talk to Jeb about her next assignment. She also intended to cash in on that free lunch he’d promised.
Parker kissed Amy goodbye. “Have a good day and stay out of trouble,” she said.
“I will.” Amy watched Parker drive away.
Millie pounced on her the minute she walked in the house. “So? How was it?”
“Wonderful.” Amy was on cloud nine. She felt like dancing and twirling across the living room like in one of those old musicals from the 1940s.
Before Millie could grill her further, Amy’s phone rang. “Hello?” she answered dreamily without looking at the caller ID. She hoped it was Parker calling to tell her how much she already missed her.
“Amy,” Susan said. “You need to come to Brookside.”
Amy’s heart sank. “What’s wrong?”
“Your mother… You need to get here as soon as possible,” Susan said. “I’m sorry, but it looks like...she’s fading fast.”
“I’ll be right there,” Amy said. She hung up.
Millie’s face dropped. “It’s your mother?”
Amy nodded. “She’s going…”
“Go change. I’ll drive you,” Millie said.
“Millie, you don’t have to,” Amy said.
“I most certainly do.”
Five minutes later, Amy was in the passenger seat of the Judge. Millie threw the car into reverse and skidded out onto the street. Amy’s head hit the headrest. “Millie, if you drive like this I’ll be carsick before we get there.”
“Oh, right, sorry. Sometimes I forget the old gal has balls,” Millie said.
Amy didn’t know if she was referring to the car or herself. It was true in either case.
They drove to Brookside in silence. Amy was glad. She couldn’t take any well-meant solicitudes and Millie seemed to sense that. Brookside came into view. Millie pulled into the parking lot and parked the car.
Amy straightened her shoulders and willed herself to be strong and not cry. She had to keep it together. She didn’t want her mother to see her distraught face even if she no longer knew whose face it was. The enormity of this hit Amy full force. She looked over at Millie. “You know the worst thing about this is that she doesn’t recognize me.”
Millie reached over and popped open the glove box. She extracted a travel pack of tissue and handed them to Amy.
“Thank you,” Amy whispered.
Mrs. Branson met Amy and Millie at the front door.
“My mother…. Is she…?” Amy couldn’t finish the question.
“She’s still with us,” Mrs. Branson replied. There was pain in her eyes, empathy written across her face.
“Thank you, Mrs. Branson. Is Susan still here?”
“She’s with your mother right now.”
“Oh, good,” Amy breathed. She didn’t know what else to say. Millie must’ve sensed her hesitation about the next move.
“Come on, hon, let’s go see your mama,” Millie said as if coaxing a child.
Amy followed Millie down the hall, trying to get her overwhelming emotions under control. She’d have plenty of time later to be emotional, right now she needed to be strong. Amy told herself that it was a blessing to no longer be shackled to a brain and body that had served their time and now needed rest. That thought fortified her as she entered her mother’s room and found her mother lying back in the bed, her eyes closed. Susan sat by the bed, her head bowed, holding Mary’s hand.
Millie stayed in the hallway while Amy entered.
“Am I too late?” Amy asked.
Susan looked up. “No. She’s just resting.” She rose and gestured for Amy to join her in the hall.
Amy spoke first. “How long until…” She couldn’t finish.
“It’s hard to say. Her system is shutting down. She may not regain consciousness.”
Millie wrapped a caring arm around Amy’s waist.
“I won’t get to say goodbye?” Every death scene in the movies gave people a tearful farewell. She couldn’t think of a single movie that had this kind of ending.
“Go sit with her, hold her hand, and just let her know you’re there. She’ll feel your presence,” Susan said. She touched Amy’s shoulder. “We’re here for you, okay?”
Amy nodded.
“Do you want me to call Parker?” Millie asked.
“No. I’ll tell her later,” Amy said.
“Is it all right if I go in for a minute? We were friends a long time and I’d like to…” Millie’s eyes glistened.
“Of course, Millie. Take your time,” Amy said.
“I’ll be close by,” Susan said. She left, giving the two women time alone with Mary.
Amy watched Millie approach the bed. Mary lay still with her hands resting on her chest. She looked peaceful. There was even a hint of a smile like she was waiting for a pleasant moment that was just around the corner. Maybe she was waiting to see Amy’s father, to be reunited with the love of her life.
Millie touched Mary’s hand. “You’ve been a good friend, Mary, and I will miss you. Don’t you worry about Amy, I’ll be watching out for her. She’s a good girl and she’s doing you proud.” Millie leaned down and kissed Mary’s forehead.
Amy brushed away her sudden tears. Millie handed her a tissue from the nightstand. “I’ll be just down the hall.”
“You don’t have to stay. I can get a ride.”
“I’m staying and that’s that. I just made a promise to your mama and I intend to keep it.”
“Thanks, Millie,” Amy said weakly.
Millie left the room. Amy didn’t know what to do next. She sat by Mary’s bed and stared at her face. It was hard to believe that this woman was the same one who had been the cause of so much grief in her life. Their relationship had always been difficult. We were both too headstrong, Amy thought. Neither of us was willing to give an inch to make the other happy. Now it’s too late.
Mary stirred and opened her eyes. She looked at Amy. “You’re here. I didn’t want to go without saying goodbye. I love you. I always have. Even if I didn’t show it so good.” And then she said the most important word, “Amy.” Her breath slowed and she whispered, “My beautiful Amy.”
“I love you, too,” Amy said.
Mary closed her eyes and a short moment later her breathing stopped.
Amy looked at the monitor. Her mother’s heartbeat had stopped, but the machine didn’t make that awful beeping noise. Susan must have turned the alarm off. Amy silently thanked her for that kindness. It was trauma enough watching her mother take her last breath without that.
Amy lowered her head to her mother’s bed and cried silent tears. She cried for herself and for her mother. She realized for the first time that she and her mother were more alike than either one knew. They both were always trying to find peace, but peace was always eluding them.
Susan tapped on the door frame. “Can I come in? Or do you need more time?”
“It’s okay. You can come in. I know you have to do things. I got to say goodbye. Thank you for making sure I got to do that.”
“We’ll take it from here. Mrs. Branson can make all the arrangements, if you’d like.”
“I would be very grateful. I don’t know how to do this kind of stuff.”
“Most people don’t.”
“She knew who I was,” Amy said. “She called me by name.”
Susan smiled. “I’m so glad for you. Sometimes they do that at the end and when it happens, you’re truly blessed.”
“I am,” Amy said. She planted one last kiss on her mother
’s still-warm cheek.
***
Parker attended Mary Warner’s funeral at Amy’s side. When Mary was in her final resting place, Amy put in the first handful of dirt, followed by Millie, Clara, and Mabel, then Parker and the rest of Amy’s new friends. Afterwards, the wake was held at Millie’s house where Steph had put out a spread. The house was filled to capacity. Amy stood by the door with Parker at her side, greeting people and thanking them for condolences.
Amy was overwhelmed with greeting her mother’s old friends—most of whom Amy hadn’t seen since she had left town. Mabel and Edna were even cordial to each to other, but Amy sensed the truce would be over the minute the wake was finished. Still, Amy was impressed.
Jeb had written a touching obituary. Amy was grateful for this kindness. She hadn’t known half the stuff about her mother that Jeb had put in there. It made her realize how much of her mother’s life she hadn’t known about. Rosa had taken care of the flowers, Steph the food, Mrs. Branson the funeral arrangements, and Millie had hosted the wake. For all this Amy was grateful. But it was Parker who’d been her rock. She’d held her each night while she cried. She had made sure Amy slept, got out of bed, ate, showered, and basically kept on with the business of living.
After the mourners left, Millie and Steph picked up the house and dealt with the leftovers and the dirty dishes. Rosa and Susan volunteered to ferry many of Mary Warner’s elderly friends back to their homes as they no longer drove. Parker and Amy had been shuffled off to the backyard.
“You two, go sit,” Millie said. “I’ve got plenty of help here. Lord, I had to send Clara and Mabel home. My kitchen can’t handle all of us.”
Parker poured them each two fingers of Maker’s Mark bourbon and they went out back. Amy carefully sipped. “I don’t think I’ve ever had bourbon.” She winced as it burned down her throat.
“It’s definitely an acquired taste,” Parker said. “But it does a good job of smoothing over jangled nerves.”
Amy sat down on the porch steps. She took another sip. It went down smoother this time.
Heart to Heart Page 21
