Remember Me

by Rainwater, Priscilla Poole

  Throwing her head back, she laughed at the mental image of a stoned, Miss Cleo look-alike minister named Sister Love marrying them in a tree house as she puffed on a joint. She was positive not very many people could say they had had a wedding like that. She also desperately wanted those memories back, she wanted to remember everything, both good and bad.

  Completely caught up in their conversation, neither of them noticed the canoe had drifted to within arm’s reach of the tiny lake's far shore

  Looking out across the lake, then up at the sky, she marveled at the blue, gray, and orange colors slowly merging on the horizon, just as the sun began peeking over. Inhaling the fresh mountain air, she felt connected and grounded, felt as one with the creator. How could anyone doubt our creator's love for us, when he...or she.... took so much time to give his children such beauty to enjoy? And all we have to do is stop and look... she wondered.

  “Nice, isn't it?” Granger murmured as his gaze followed hers.

  “Absolutely beautiful.” she whispered in awe, unable to tear her eyes away.

  Turning to look at her, he saw the reverence on her face, and the rising sun gave her skin a glow like a rich chocolate."Yes..you are.” he whispered loudly.

  Finally tearing her gaze away, she looked at him in the faint light, his words searing through her mind and heating her body. Suddenly her entire being throbbed with a need she had never experienced in the past three years. No man had made her feel such need, not the way this man did. Her husband. That's why I never felt the need for another man. Somewhere, deep down in my heart, I was waiting for HIM....my husband.. She thought, the realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. With tremendous effort, she broke eye contact with him and placed her bowl down at her feet. “Granger, I really want to try to work things out, but let's just take it slow, and no promises, Ok?” she said in a soft voice.

  Putting his own bowl down, he leaned forward, his face only inches from hers, his warm, minty breath making her skin tingle. “We'll make it, and I'll try the slow part, but no promises. Now, how about just one small kiss to clinch the deal?” he whispered.

  Closing her eyes, she waited breathlessly and silently prayed for strength, strength enough to not run recklessly into a new, unfamiliar life.

  Leaning forward a bit more, his lips brushed hers lightly just as his peripheral vision picked up movement of some sort. It was coming from some thick underbrush, and he realized, too late, how far they had drifted from their original spot on the small lake. A sudden burst of activity from the brush, and he saw a dark shape hurdling towards them in the dim light.

  “Watch out!” he shouted as he quickly moved in front of her to shield her, protect her.

  Startled, her eyes flew open, and she saw the dark shape bearing down on them. Screaming impulsively, she threw her hands up in a panic, then tried to stand.

  The canoe listed drunkenly to the right, and she screamed again as her arms wind milled for balance, then she plunged over the side, into the dark water.

  Chapter 24

  Cassandra hoisted herself onto the wooden pier (the one on the far side of the lake) with Granger following close behind.

  After they had capsized (the water was only five feet deep) they had managed to right the canoe, grab the oar and backpack, but everything else, including the lantern and her glasses, were lost.

  Pushing her wet hair off her face, she looked at Granger, who was shucking out of his ruined leather jacket, and cursing good naturedly. “That damn thing Pearl Harbored us, that's for sure! Guess we drifted too close to her nest for comfort, huh? I could hear her little goslings quacking up a storm during the commotion. What's the world coming to when a cute little goose attacks two people who are only trying to kiss? Can you believe it? Water fowl with a gang mentality.”

  Several feet away, the mother goose still stood at the edge of the water, honking at them angrily.

  With a short, hysterical laugh, Cassandra returned the glare and shouted, “Up yours! Could of caused one of us to drown!

  “Yeah!” Granger yelled. “You just keep your ass right there, and the next time I come back this way, I'm going have me some roast goose!”

  Clearly not impressed by his threats, the beast gave them one last belligerent honk, turned and shook her tail feathers as if to say kiss my ass, then waddled off into the brush.

  That was all she could stand. Cassandra's threw her head back in a fit of laughter, clutching her stomach. “She punked you! You got punked out by a friggin' angry mother goose!” she howled, pointing at Granger with one finger.

  What a beautiful sound... he thought as he watched her laugh. It was laughter from her soul, clean and pure. Looking at her lovely face, he thought his heart would burst at that very moment.

  Opening her eyes, she placed one hand over her mouth to stifle the laughter, and choked, “Sorry, I’m not making fun.”

  Wishing to hear more of her laughter, he slipped into the role of the wounded party. Giving her the best wounded-pride look he could muster, he said, “How can you laugh at me like that? Me, the father of your child, the man who loves you? I defended you from that wild, dangerous beast! That thing was probably carrying some disease that will kill me, yet I bravely and unselfishly threw myself in its path to protect you. Look, it actually bit me!”

  Playing along, she gently took his hand in hers, and pretended to study the faint red mark where the angry fowl had only managed to nip him. Speaking to him like he was a child that had scraped his knee, she cooed, “There there now, sweetie, that mean old thing won't hurt you anymore. Does it hurt?”

  Even though he knew she was playing along, the look of compassion on her lovely face nearly melted him on the spot. “Well, I would ask you to call an ambulance, but my phone was lost in my valiant, brave attempt to protect you.”

  “Well, let me take a closer look here, I think I may have just the medicine you need.” she said, and gave him a seductive smile. Bringing his hand to her lips, she blew her warm breath on the quickly fading red splotch, then kissed it softly, letting her lips linger.

  “Careful, careful...” he said hoarsely, then threw in a soft “ouch” for good measure.

  Brushing her lips across the back of his hand lightly, she wrapped her lips around the tip of his index finger, took it all the way into her mouth, locked onto it with her tongue as well, then slid it back out, slowly. Looking into his eyes, she whispered, “Now, does that feel better?”

  Shuddering, he silently prayed that she wouldn't look down at his lap. I thought cold water was supposed to kill raging hard-ons... he thought. Trying to divert her attention, after all, the last thing he wanted her to believe was that he was only after one thing, he touched one cheek with his free hand and muttered, “This isn't too bad, but it still hurts a little.”

  Still smiling, she leaned over and kissed his cheek, letting her lips linger again. “That better now too?” she whispered as she pulled back slightly, her warm breath making him shudder again. She was so turned on by their little game, she could feel her taut nipples pressing painfully against her wet shirt.

  “Yes, but you know, I think the thing bit my lip too.” he whispered.

  She hesitated only a moment, then reached out and ran her hands through his wet locks slowly. Pulling his face close, she brushed her lips against his, terrified, yet exhilarated at the same time.

  Remembering Jocelyn's warning, he resisted the urge to crush her against his chest, and decided to let her set the pace. After what seemed like an eternity, her lips locked onto his, and her tongue slid sweetly inside his mouth. Now, he knew, was the time to reciprocate. Hungrily devouring her own lips with his, he wrapped his arm around her, pulled her close, and ran his fingers through her hair as well, which made her moan with pleasure. What had started out as a simple, sweet kiss, had turned into a deep, hungry, consuming one, for both of them. He shivered as she ran her hands under his wet tee shirt, her manicured nails raking lightly up and down his back.

 
“Hmmph!” a loud noise interrupted their momentary bliss.

  Startled, Granger was the first one to break the kiss, and looked up to see an elderly couple standing there. The woman was looking down at them kindly, with a faint, knowing smile on her face. The elderly man, presumably her husband, was a different story. He was seated in a motorized wheelchair, and was giving them a look of sour disapproval. The first thought that flashed through Granger's mind was, We were so caught up with each other we didn't even hear that wheelchair?

  The elderly lady was the first to break the awkward silence. “Good morning you two lovebirds! Please excuse us, we just came to feed the ducks. The mister and I have been coming here every morning for years, to feed them.”

  Granger warmed to the woman immediately. Chuckling, he replied, “Well, the gander we met on the other side of the lake earlier this morning was much more friendly than the ones on this side.”

  Doing her best to hide her disappointment at the interruption, Cassandra looked up and smiled briefly, then began gathering their belongings. She was surprised to find herself not embarrassed at being caught making out with him in public. In fact, it actually felt good.

  Rising to his feet, Granger held his hand out to help her.

  Smiling up at him gratefully, she took his hand and thought, Could I be falling in love with him, all over again? Or was it still there, all along, lurking right beneath the surface? Tightening her grip, she allowed him to pull her to her feet. “Thank you.” she said softly.

  Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, he replied, “You bet. But the next time we're in the mood for a sunrise breakfast, it'll be goose-free. Maybe next time we'll fly to Rome for breakfast, and spend the day. We did that when we were first married. Your idea, of course.”

  Still looking into his eyes, she shook her head and said, “Granger, this was perfect. You gave me, gave us, I mean, a wonderful memory to..maybe start all over again with.” Then, standing on tip-toe, she kissed his cheek.

  Her words moved him in ways that would have astounded her, had she known. Releasing her hand, he wrapped his arms around her, pulled her close, and kissed her forehead. “Cass, I'll spend the rest of my life giving you the love, and time, that you deserve. And I want you to know I'll also take things as slow as you need them to be. Give you time to deal with everything being thrown at you.” Lord, please bestow me with patience, I've got this one chance, and I'm not screwing it up... he prayed silently.

  “Good Lord! That's the trouble with young people nowadays, they don't give a second thought about pawing each other in public.” the old man griped as he looked at the handsome couple, envying their youth. Especially since his own time and memories were quickly drifting away from him.

  “Michael, you hush now!” the old woman fussed as she looked at the couple fondly. “We did the same thing, right here on this very same pier, when you came home from Korea. Actually, we did much more than these two, we went skinny dipping, remember? And afterwards, right there in the very same spot we ran across this lovely young couple, was where I conceived Mike Jr. With your help, of course. Matter of fact, you said this place was magic, if memory serves me correctly.”

  “Yeah, you‘re right.” he groused, although in truth, he wasn't offended, but merely frightened. Even now he only dimly recalled the magical night his wife was referring to, and according to his doctors, those memories would soon fade as well, under the onslaught of Alzheimer's. Cherish her young man, while you can. Don't waste time like I did, thinking I had all the time in the world for later. Sometimes, later never comes.... he thought as he felt his wife's frail hand on his shoulder.

  Looking up at her gratefully, he patted her hand and his face softened. “Yep, Sissygal, there's some magic here, alright.” he said in a hoarse voice as he blinked back tears.

  Granger and Cassandra smiled at one another, “Yes magic.” Granger whispered as he gazed into his wife's starry eyes.

  *********************************************************

  Later that same morning, Granger found himself longing to be with Cassandra. He would see her later that afternoon, after all, they had an appointment set up to visit the specialist he had flown in, but every second, every minute of every hour away from her was sheer torture. The patience he had prayed for earlier still had not manifested itself, and he found himself pacing, thinking one thing, over and over. She's not fighting me anymore, she actually WANTS to try!

  Smiling to himself, he stopped and looked in the large bedroom mirror, adjusted his burgundy tie, then put on his gray suit jacket. Even though today was also the day he would make the decision about whether or not to turn himself in for his father's death, he still felt happy, felt grounded, just like he had when he first fell in love with Cassandra.

  “Chief!” a voice called, and he turned as Malcolm walked into the room.

  “Just heading out, boss. That lady lawyer called me earlier, said she had decided to drive here, and wouldn't need me to come pick her up. Her ETA is any second now. I'm off to get those new cell phones you wanted too, and I'll be picking up your specialist in a few hours.”

  “Fine, thanks.”

  Malcolm chuckled as he suddenly remembered the horrifying goose attack his boss had been subjected to earlier in the day. Cassandra had gleefully called and told him about it. He was happy for his boss and friend, it seemed he stood an excellent chance of getting his wife back. “Anyway, I'm gone, call me if you need me. Oh, I forgot...you don't have a cell phone, some bird mugged you and took it! Guess I can screw around on duty, since you can't contact me. Quack out man!” he laughed, then turned to leave.

  “Very funny Malcolm.” he scowled at the retreating figure of the laughing man he considered more of a friend than an employee.

  Several minutes later his suite doorbell rang, signaling what he presumed was the arrival of his high priced, hotshot lawyer. Smoothing his tie, he took a deep breath and muttered, “Time to face the sins of my past.”

  Making it to the door on the third ring, he opened it and was greeted by a rather short, very dark skinned African American woman.

  “Mr. Mortensen, I presume? I'm Satin Johnson, your lawyer retained me, at your request?” she asserted herself, then offered her hand.

  Taking her hand, he was immediately impressed by her firm grip, and by the business-like efficiency in the way the hand shake was three quick, firm shakes, nothing more, nothing less. He was also was surprised that the young woman staring up at him looked, well, so young. This little pixie is supposed to be the legal shark that makes policemen and District Attorneys alike tremble with fear? He thought as he stared at the almost angelic face of the woman. The short, blue-black hair framing her face made her look and seem sweet and delicate. Little did he know he would soon find out different.

  As if sensing his thoughts, her eyes narrowed and she snapped, “Well, do you plan on inviting me in, or what? Believe me, Mr. Mortensen, there are people lined up to beg to get in line for me to defend them. And as you should well know, time is money.”

  Touchy little Smurf ! He thought as he stepped aside and waved the confident woman inside. He was still amazed at her appearance, she looked like a little girl wearing her mother's red pants suit and four inch high heels.

  Taking a seat in one of the Queen Anne chairs by the fireplace, she removed the leather bag from her shoulder, then reached inside and withdrew a legal pad and pen. Clearly impatient, she waited for him to take a seat.

  “Would you care for something to drink? Coffee, tea?” he asked nervously.

  “Thank you, no.” she replied as she watched the man closely, sizing him up and reading his body language. “Mr. Mortensen..” she sighed, “I can tell from the look on your face that you expected someone older, I've seen that look many times, trust me on that, also. Now, while you may be thinking to yourself that I may not be the right person to handle your problem, I can assure you, I'm damn good. Not bragging, just a fact. I'm willing to wager that you wanted me because I
come highly recommended, even by people who don't like me personally, am I correct? Now, suppose you tell me why you require my services.”

  He knew she was telling the truth. After his own lawyer had recommended her, he had did some research of his own on Satin Johnson. She had an extraordinarily high success rate as a defense lawyer, and she was known to be very aggressive. He had read she would do whatever it took to protect her client, and she also made no secret her mistrust of the justice system in general.