by Kim Pritekel
“I want you,” Lysette said simply, no hesitation. “I want to take back what was stolen from us. I want to read the newspaper with you in bed every Sunday morning, I want to go to sleep with you every night. I want to learn everything about you, give you all that you need and want.” She ran her fingers through short, dark strands. “I want you to get to know my kids and for them to really know you.” She smiled, so much love shining in her eyes. “I want what was stolen from us,” she whispered, repeating the words that were tattooed on Eleanor’s soul.
“Me too. More than anything,” Eleanor whispered back.
****
As she re-entered her class after her special lunch, Eleanor felt a little pep in her step, not only from the amazing moments shared with Lysette, but also because she felt like a little rebel in her activities. She did feel a bit uncomfortable when Jimmy came bounding into her classroom the last hour of the day and was immediately drawn to the apple that she’d kept on her desk as a little reminder of the woman who had given it to her.
“So,” he said, tossing the apple into the air and catching it easily with one hand. “Who’s trying to get an A?” He leaned a hip against the side of the desk.
She glanced up at him from where she sat behind it, thoroughly amused, even as she was slightly unsettled. “Who says anyone is?”
“Oh, come on, Miss Brannon,” he said, setting the apple down as he leaned in. “Everyone knows it’s the best way. ‘A is for apple,’” he said in a sing-songy voice, making her laugh. He winked at her. “You know, it was super strange hanging out with you Sunday.”
“Oh, yeah?” she asked, truly curious of his answer because, according to his mother, there would be a whole lot more hanging out. “Why?”
“Because!” he exclaimed, as though it should be common knowledge. “Teachers don’t have real lives. They don’t have real homes and,” he raised an eyebrow to add a bit of theatrics, “I hear they don’t even eat real food.”
“Oh, I see,” she responded sagely. “So what do us teachers do then?”
“Well, the way I hear it, this desk here,” he said, standing to his full height and grabbing the edge, trying to rock the heavy, solid desk. “It folds out into some sort of cot-type structure, and in that closet over there is a television set. You know, you just chill in here and think of ways to torment us further.”
She burst into laughter, in an unreasonably good mood. “Go sit down, you pest.” She pushed away from the desk and got to her feet as the bell rang alerting that the final hour of the day had begun. “All right, everyone. Take your seats. We’ve got a lot to get to today.” She grabbed her teacher’s copy of the textbook and walked to the blackboard when the classroom door opened. One of the seniors who acted as an office aide walked in.
“A message for you, Miss Brannon,” she said, handing her a note.
“Thanks, Shelly.” Eleanor read over the scribbled message, then read it again, her heart racing. “Uh,” she said, a hand coming up to run through her hair. “Guys, read chapters twenty and twenty-one out loud.” She hurried over to the coat tree and grabbed her purse. “Jarrod, please start it, then go in order after each page,” she said, her voice higher pitched than normal as panic was setting in.
“Miss Brannon? You okay?” one of the students asked, but she didn’t even know who it was nor did she respond as she flew out of the classroom and toward the front office.
The office was abuzz as usual with ringing phones and chatting faculty, administration, and students. Eleanor was nearly in tears as she hurried to the front desk.
“Rachel, can I please use the phone?” Without a word, the secretary lifted the rotary phone up to the desk where Eleanor stood. Eleanor quickly dialed the numbers, then waited. “Hello, Mrs. O’Shea, it’s Eleanor Brannon. I need to speak with Scott right away, please…yes, please, wake him up. It’s an emergency.”
****
They were both silent as the car sped south. Eleanor could feel Scott’s gaze on her, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the road, watching each passing mile marker and the unending staccato of the white dotted line, her hand clutched around her gold cross.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said, his voice soft in the near-silent cab of the car. “We’ll get there.” He reached over and wrapped his fingers around hers where they lay on her leg.
She didn’t meet his gaze but simply nodded, praying with all she had.
After what seemed an eternity, they finally reached Memorial Hospital in Colorado Springs. Scott barely had the Packard stopped before Eleanor jumped out, running full speed across the parking lot, him not far behind, unshaven and unshowered and dressed in baggy jeans and a flannel shirt. His longer legs got him there just before her to pull the door open, then follow her inside.
“Can I help you, miss?” the receptionist asked, glancing at Scott’s unkempt appearance with contempt.
“I need to find a patient,” Eleanor said, breathless from fear and the exertion. “She was brought in here about an hour ago.”
“And her name would be?” the woman asked, already flipping open the large patient registry.
“Emmaline Brannon.”
Chapter Thirty-three
Eleanor sat in the chair, staring off into space, only to return her gaze to the still form lying in the bed every few seconds. Scott sat next to her, his arm slung out over the back of her chair. She could feel his fingertip graze her shoulder now and then as he gesticulated with whatever he was talking about. She had no idea, his voice not much more than muffled noise to her.
All she could hear over and over again was what she was told by the doctors:
Heart weakened from the virus she contracted eight years ago…heart attack hit her quick…lucky she was found when she was…surgery went well, we hope. Hope for the best.
Emma had been brought back into her room little more than an hour ago, and though she’d opened her eyes and had murmured something to the nurse who came in to check on her every ten minutes or so, she had said nothing to her two visitors. Eleanor wasn’t even sure she was aware they were there.
“Do you think that life or the universe or God or whatever would be so cruel as to let her get this far in her life after all that he put her through only to let her die now?” Eleanor asked. She realized silence befell them, so she glanced over at Scott, who was staring straight ahead, his jaw muscles working. For a moment, she thought maybe he hadn’t heard her, but then he spoke, his voice quiet.
“You know, if you’d asked me that three months ago, even three weeks ago,” he amended, turning to meet her gaze, “I would have told you, hell, yeah. God was that much of a son of a bitch. But,” he added, a small smile on his face as he brought his hand up to lightly tap the tip of her nose with a finger, “I don’t think so. I don’t know why this happened, but I think it was for a reason. Miss Emma is meant to come through this and be better for it.”
She met his gaze for a long moment. For the first time since his and Ronnie’s nightmare, she saw the Scott she knew and loved in those smiling eyes. She leaned over and left a lingering kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”
“Whew,” he said, wiping a dramatic hand over his brow. “I was hoping I was going to say that right.”
She smiled. “Goofball.” As he grinned that adorable boyish grin, she reached her hand up and lightly patted his cheek a couple of times before giving it a final pat that was much harder than need be, an old tactic she used with him often. “Good boy.” They were both alerted that someone was at the hospital room door when soft rapping began.
“I’ll continue my ‘good boy’ status and see who that is.” Scott pushed up from his chair and made his way across the room.
Figuring it was the nurse returning with the food she’d promised nearly a half hour before, Eleanor turned her focus back to her mother. Though Scott’s words had touched her, there was no way they could ease her fear. Again, Scott’s quiet conversation with whomever was on the other side of the door wa
s muffled noise as Eleanor looked at her mother, lying so still, so small in that bed. She was heavily bandaged after the surgery. Eleanor wished so badly that she could have a sign, anything, that everything would be okay.
She was startled at the sudden touch of fingers running lightly through her hair. Her glance to the bed showed her mother hadn’t moved. She looked up, and Lysette smiled lovingly down at her. For a moment, she thought she was seeing things, but the fingers that moved down to caress the side of her face were quite tangible.
Shooting up from the chair, Eleanor felt her world right itself, if even just for a moment, as she was wrapped in Lysette’s comforting warmth. “God, it’s good to see you,” she murmured into the hug. “What are you doing here?”
Lysette left a small kiss to Eleanor’s cheek before pulling out of the hug. “Jimmy said you were really upset when you left, so he asked the girl he knew in the office, and she told him. We called around until we found the right hospital.”
“We?” Eleanor asked, surprised to see Josie already at the bedside, one of Emma’s hands held in her own.
“Aunt Josie heard us talking about it, and quite honestly, she was ready to leave me behind if I hadn’t thrown myself into the car,” Lysette said with a small smile.
Scott joined them, looking from Eleanor to Lysette and back again, a huge question in his eyes at the obvious comfort level the women had in their intimate affection.
“Scott, this is Lysette Vaughn,” Eleanor introduced, stepping away from Lysette to an appropriate distance. “Lysette, Scott O’Shea.”
“Yes, you’re the music teacher, right?” Lysette held her hand out in greeting.
“Choir and band, but close enough.” He took her hand and gave her one of his charming smiles.
Eleanor watched the two and couldn’t help but think with the charm and natural charisma those two oozed, they could take over the world far too easily.
“I believe you said I don’t have either of your kids, right?” he asked, studying her.
“Correct, but my son and daughter both attend Woodland, as you know. I’ve heard a lot about you from Ellie.”
He glanced at Eleanor, eyebrows raised. She hid her smile as she could almost hear his thoughts: Ellie?
“How’s she doing?” Lysette turned back to Eleanor, her hand resting on her lower back.
“She’s still out,” Eleanor said, glancing over at the bed. “Doctors sounded positive, but there’s just no telling until they see how well the surgery took.”
“What happened?” Josie asked from where she’d planted herself in the chair next to the bed, Emma’s hand still held in both of hers.
“A handful of years ago, Mama caught a pretty nasty virus. It almost killed her. It went to her heart, which weakened quite a bit. I moved back from Kansas to take care of her,” she added. “It was scary for a while, but she recovered and was feisty as ever. But she was warned that she had to take it easy.” She let out a heavy, tired sigh, running her fingers through her hair. “That’s one reason she sold the place in Colorado Springs. I think it was getting to be too much for her, and she wanted to simplify her life.”
Josie looked over at Eleanor. “Where is she moving to?”
“She recently bought a house in Woodland,” Lysette said.
“And you never told me about this?” she asked, eyes filled with hurt.
Eleanor was confused as she glanced from Josie to Lysette. She knew the two women had been close friends as teenagers, but Josie’s reaction seemed a bit strong. She looked as though she were about to burst into tears.
“Bronte and I literally ran into them one day at the diner when she was looking for houses,” Lysette explained. “I wasn’t sure it was my news to share.”
Eleanor could feel eyes on her and noticed Scott looking at her, questions in his eyes. He was obviously picking up on the same vibe she was. She shrugged. He walked around Lysette to Eleanor’s side.
“Hey, I think I’m going to head home for a bit. I feel like a bum,” he murmured, indicating the gorgeous woman standing on the other side of Eleanor. “I need to shave and shower. I’ll bring some dinner back. Shouldn’t be gone long.”
Eleanor smiled and nodded. It was nice to see a bit of his old dignity returning. The old Scott she knew was prissier about his looks than she ever could be. “Absolutely.” She accepted his hug and kiss to the cheek. “It means the world to me that you were here for me, Scotty,” she said. “Thank you.”
“I need to go for a little bit, too,” Lysette said apologetically. “I had to make sure you and Emma were okay, but Jim is in client meetings tonight preparing for trial, so I have to get the kids.” She pulled Eleanor into another tight hug. “I promise I’ll be back soon.”
“I ain’t leavin’, Lysette,” Josie said, an eyebrow raised in defiance.
“Can I take your car?” Lysette asked.
“Just come with me,” Scott offered, looking between the women. “I’ll happily drop you off, then bring you back when you’re ready.”
“Really?” Lysette asked.
“Absolutely.” Scott glanced at Eleanor and winked.
Eleanor accepted another quick, one-armed hug from Scott and a lingering one from Lysette after the redhead had gone to Emma’s bedside and had left a small kiss to her cheek and a promise that she’d return. Left alone with Josie and her mother, Eleanor was left with so many questions.
She glanced at Josie, amused by her overalls and seeming devil-may-care attitude. That woman was there with purpose, though Eleanor wasn’t sure what it was.
“It’s really nice to see you again.” She pulled a chair up to the other side of her mother’s bed. The two women glanced at each other over Emma’s sleeping body.
Josie gave her a genuine smile. “You, too, sweetheart. It’s real good to see you and Lysette together again. Somehow, I always knew that would happen, you two would find your way back to each other.”
Eleanor was surprised and touched by her words. “Thank you. I’m glad she’s in my life again, too,” she said, not entirely sure what Lysette’s aunt knew or what she thought the nature of their relationship was.
Josie studied Eleanor for a long moment, so long that the younger woman felt a bit uncomfortable. Finally, Josie smiled. “You grew up to be a truly beautiful woman. Lysette’s lucky to have you. You two certainly make a stunning couple.”
Eleanor stared at her for a long moment before smiling as she shook her head. “Guess we’re that obvious, huh?”
Josie gave her a side glance and a crooked grin. “Well, for someone who knows what she’s looking for, yes.”
The words spoken rolled around in Eleanor’s mind for a moment as she tried to pair them with the knowing look she was given as they were being said. Finally, something occurred to her. “Wait, are you…like us? Like Lysette and me?”
“You know,” Josie said, leaning back in her chair as far as she could while maintaining a connection with Emma. “You could scour the streets for ladies like us and not find a single one. But then, in two families—yours and mine—you have two sets of ladies who understand each other perfectly.” She grinned at the end of her declaration.
“You’re talking homosexuals, right?” Eleanor asked, making sure they were on the same page. At Josie’s nod, she asked, “Okay, Lysette and I and you. Who’s the fourth?”
Josie met her gaze, her expression openly confused why Eleanor didn’t seem to know that already. “My Emmaline.”
“That Emmaline?” Eleanor exclaimed, pointing to her mother’s sleeping form. At Josie’s nod, Eleanor fell back against her chair, looking to her mother, wishing she’d sit up and either validate what Josie had just said or dispute it.
She thought back to the only other time she’d been with Josie, which had been that wonderful day in Denver. She thought of them together and the instant connection she’d seen between them. In fact, she’d almost felt a bit jealous that day, the fact that her mother seemed to only have eyes for Josie
. If Eleanor hadn’t been so obsessed with Lysette at that time, she would have been outright hurt and confused.
“Well,” she said at length, clearing her throat. “I guess that makes sense now why she was always so understanding about Lysette and me.” She smirked and met Josie’s gaze. “And why Lysette’s parents were so good about us, too. They already dealt with you…and my mother.” She shook her head, still trying to wrap her mind around it all.
“You know, since your mom never told you about all this, maybe I should just shut up now,” Josie said, defeat in her tone as she looked away, her shoulders sagging a bit.
“No, Miss Josie—”
“Aunt Josie,” the older woman demanded, pointing a finger at her.
“Aunt Josie. I can tell you since Ed died, there’s been nobody for her, not another man, not a woman.” She chuckled. “She doesn’t even have a dog, though she is intending to get a cat when she moves into her new house,” she pointed out. “But the fact that she’s stayed alone all this time, maybe that means something, huh?”
The two women glanced toward the door when it opened and a nurse appeared, white uniform crisp all the way to her cap, pinned in place over dark brown hair.
“How’s our girl?” she asked, giving the two a quick smile before she set the clipboard she carried on Emma’s blanket-covered legs. She went about checking her vital signs, as well as her IV drip. The nurse grabbed her clipboard and scribbled a few things down before tucking it against her side. “Looks good, ladies. She should start coming out of this within the hour.” With that, she was gone.
Aunt Josie glanced at Eleanor. “Guess that’s good news, right?”
“Tell me your story,” Eleanor said softly. The truth was, it was difficult to think of her mother in any sort of sexual way or as a sexual being, but she really needed to know about this shocking revelation. “Does Lysette know?”
