by Lori Leger
“I have no idea. I haven’t spoken more than a dozen words to her since high school.” He closed her door, walked to his side of the truck, and climbed inside the driver’s seat. He pulled out the card she’d shoved into his pocket, glanced at it before he ripped it in half and dropped it into the ashtray.
“What did she give you?”
He scrubbed at his earlobe. “Other than the urge to decontaminate and file a restraining order, you mean? Her business card.”
Cynthia pulled the card from the ashtray. “With all her contact information, no doubt. What the hell does she do for a living, anyway?” She pieced the card together and read from it, before bursting into laughter. “She’s an interior designer? Good grief. I haven’t seen anyone wear that much eye makeup since I went to a KISS concert in the seventies.” She put the card back into the ashtray and clucked her tongue. “Well, if you’re in the market for one, I know drag queens with more class and way better taste.” She turned to face him again. “What did she say to you?”
“For a good time, call 555-SLUT.” He grinned as Cynthia burst into laughter. “Not really, of course, but she may as well have.”
His date seemed to think on the situation before turning to him. “You aren’t the least bit curious or tempted to call her?”
John turned to face her full on. “Listen, Cyn. I wasn’t tempted in high school, and she was plenty obvious about what she wanted then. I’m even less tempted now. I will not be giving her a call. Ever.”
She smiled and gave him a quick, but satisfied nod. “Good answer, John Michael.”
He drove her home to the mellow sounds of an easy listening radio station playing some of their old favorites. He sang quietly along to Paul Young’s version of What Becomes of the Broken Hearted, stopped suddenly when he caught her watching him. “What? I like this song.”
She rested her elbow on the window and ran her fingers through her hair. “I was thinking I wished you could have known me then, like just out of high school.”
“I did know you then.”
“I mean date me, know me before the necessity for Spanx, support bras, and bi-focal lenses.”
He pulled out his glasses from his shirt pocket. “Mine are tri-focal, so I’ve got you beat. Not sure about those spanks though. It sounds a little kinky; like something Robin would be into.” He wiggled his eyebrows, hoping to get her to laugh.
It worked.
“It’s a support undergarment, like a girdle but much thinner and stronger. I don’t know how they do it but those puppies work wonders.”
“Are you wearing one now?”
“No.”
“Then you obviously don’t need it. And now that you mention it, I heard two guys at the pharmacy talking about wearing those girdle things to keep their guts sucked in.” He slapped his belly. “I’m opting out. If I wore those, I’m pretty sure I’d get a midnight visit from the man-card police to revoke mine.”
John was feeling pretty damn good about their first date by the time he pulled into her mom’s driveway a little before 10:00 p.m.
Cyn unfastened her seatbelt and turned to face him. “I had such a wonderful time tonight. Thank you so much for asking me.”
“Thanks for coming with me, Cyn. I can’t believe how much fun I had with you.” John stepped out of his truck, went around and opened the door for her. He took her hand to help her out, kept it as her gaze locked onto his. “Maybe we can do it again?”
She slipped her arms around his waist, smiled as he wrapped her tightly in a bear hug. “You have my number, John Michael. All you have to do is call.”
Monday afternoon, Cyn approached the nurse’s station, humming to the same tune she’d had running around in her head since her date with John Michael.
Bee’s head popped up at her approach. “Oooh, girl! I love that song. You’ve got good taste in music.” She cocked her head. “What’s up with you? You’ve been positively chipper all day long.” She froze suddenly, pointed a finger at Cynthia. “Wait a second. Didn’t you have a date this weekend?”
Cynthia flipped through her phone’s photos then raised it to display the picture she’d snapped of John Michael.
“There he is. Mr. Tall, Dark, Sexy as Hell himself. Mm, mm. He is one fine specimen of a man if ever I saw one. Look at that beautiful smile and those pearly whites, would you? Where’d old blue eyes take you?”
“Dancing, Bee. He took me to a place called D.I.’s. Best food ever and it had a live band playing Cajun music. We danced for hours.”
“Uh huh, I know that place. I love their boiled crawfish.”
“Maybe next time we go I’ll try them boiled.”
“You sound pretty confident there’ll be a next time.”
Cynthia gave her a wink. “I am.” She turned and walked off with Bee’s comment of “The girl’s still got it!” ringing in her ears.
She’d barely finished the paperwork for the release of the Ferguson twins when her desk phone rang. “Dr. Ellender.”
“Hey, Doc Ellender, it’s Bee. I wanted to let you know your new boyfriend’s in the house.”
“Ah, he mentioned he might be coming by today to help his son load up everything. Thanks Bee.”
She picked up the twins’ release papers and headed to their mother’s room. It took some effort not to search out John Michael’s face upon entering the room. Instead she concentrated on communicating with the new parents on what to do when they got the babies home.
John’s gaze stayed riveted on Cyn as she addressed his son and daughter-in-law. Damn she looked good today.
“How’s the new mama feeling?”
“Wonderful, Dr. Ellender. Bored and ready to go home with my babies and my husband.”
“That is certainly understandable. You’ve been in here a little longer than we expected. Your low iron count and the twins jaundice kind of held the three of you up. But their bilirubin level is perfectly normal. They’re released to go home.”
John Michael waited for Zach to share a tender kiss with his wife before approaching Cynthia.
She turned her gaze on him then. “Hey there, Paw Paw. How are you?”
He grinned, nodding at her. “I’m good. How about you?” He lifted a finger when his cell phone chirped. “Hang on, Cyn, it’s my dad.” He stepped out of the room to answer. In seconds, he returned, wearing a wide grin. “Zach, Pop says Mom is her old self today. We could stop there on the way home, right?”
Zach’s face lit up. “Sure we will. God, I hope she’s around long enough to see the twins and still know us. Can I speak to Paw Paw John?”
John Michael handed the phone to Zach and returned to Cynthia’s side. “How are those feet of yours?”
“I was sore yesterday but I seem to be over it today. Wonderful news about your mom. I’ll call the attending to rush Cat’s release so you can all get over there.”
“Any chance you’d want to come with us?”
“I’d love to, but I don’t want to intrude on family time.”
Her hopeful gaze warmed his heart. “I’d like you to be there, Cyn.”
She smiled, nodded. “I’m off in an hour. I’ll meet you all over there. Let me go call for her doctor.”
John grabbed her hand, squeezed it lightly. “Thanks Cyn. I appreciate this.” He watched her walk away then turned to see Cat and Zachary staring at him, their faces covered with smug grins. “What’s up with you two?”
Cat chuckled under breath. “Maybe we should be asking what’s going on with you two.”
Zach cleared his throat. “Paw Paw John told me I should ask how your hot date went over the weekend. Dad, are you dating our pediatrician?”
“I took her to D.I.’s Saturday night.”
Cat’s head dipped curiously. “And …”
“She’d never had fried crawfish and she loved it. And she’d never danced to Cajun music, and she loved that too.” He lifted his hands. “We had a nice time. I’m not sure what else I can say.”
The couple exchange
d amused glances and both turned back to face him.
Cat stood to pick up her daughter, who was starting to fuss. “Will you be taking her out again, Poppa John?”
He rested his hands on his hips and smiled at baby Cassandra in Cat’s arms. “I think so.”
Zach stepped forward. “Well, have you asked her yet? She won’t wait forever, you know.”
John turned to his son. “I didn’t come out and ask, but it was implied we’d be seeing each other again.”
“Maybe you should give her a call and make some concrete plans.”
John grinned at Zach. “I saw her for the first time in thirty-five years less than a week ago and I’ve already had lunch with her and taken her out. Not to mention she’s going to meet us to see Mom after work. Besides, I should be taking advice from a guy who let the love of his life walk away for twelve years before telling her how he felt?”
Cat elbowed her husband. “The man’s got a point.”
Zachary shook his head. “Not applicable. I had to wait for said love of my life to realize no other man could possibly measure up to the standard I’d established.”
“Yes, Zach-Attack. You were my benchmark, I admit it. But leave your dad be.” She turned back to her father-in-law wearing a grin. “You’re doing fine, Poppa John.” She cuddled her daughter and cooed. “Paw Paw Johnny’s got some smooth moves, doesn’t he Cassandra?”
He approached her and leaned over to kiss the top of her head. “Why thank you, Cat.”
She reached out for his hand. “I want to see you happy. It’s time you had a little fun.”
He squeezed her hand. “I agree, and I’m doing my damnedest.”
Cynthia tapped lightly on the door of room 124. It swung open and John Michael stood there, beaming down at her.
“Come on in here, Cyn. Someone wants to see you.”
Cynthia entered the room slowly, with no expectations of what she’d find. There was Ms. Marilee, seated in an overstuffed chair, holding both her great grandchildren. Her husband sat on one side of her, while her grandson, the happy new father, sat on the other. “Well now, don’t you look right at home holding those great grandchildren of yours?”
“Cynthia, you come sit right in front of me where I can get a good look at you. These old eyes aren’t what they used to be.” She clucked as Cyn did as she was told. “Oh, you’re every bit as beautiful as you were in high school, sweetie.” Her eyes teared-up slightly. “You look so much like your mother. How is she, dear?”
“Mom is wonderful. She mentioned she’d love to come visit you, if it’s okay?”
Marilee’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I’d love to see Bessie again. Please tell her to come.”
“I’ll let her know. I’m not sure if you knew, but she moved to Jennings a couple of years ago, and I’m staying with her.”
The older woman’s gaze travelled from her face, upward to where John Michael stood beside Cynthia, then back to her. She beamed at Cynthia, nodding slowly. “You know, your mother and I were so close. We always hoped the two of you would end up as a couple. I adored my daughter-in-law, of course. Beth was a wonderful person.”
“I don’t doubt it, Ms. Marilee, and she and John Michael gave you a fine grandson in Zachary.”
Marilee nodded. “I wish she and Paul, Cat’s dad, could have seen their grandchildren before they left this world. These two are something, aren’t they? But they’re so heavy. My arms are tiring.”
Zach reached over and took both babies from her, but stayed beside her where she could see them.
“Oh, thank you, Zachary.” Marilee leaned forward in her chair to take Cynthia’s hands in hers. “Don’t let too much time get away from you. It’s important to make the most of whatever amount of time God sees fit to give us on this earth, you know.”
Cynthia nodded her agreement; her heart hurting for this woman who’d already had so much taken from her but still found a way to be positive.
“That’s why I keep my journal.” Marilee took a pink floral book from her lap and held it up. “Every time I’m myself again, I write in it. When my John told me about the birth of our twin great-grandchildren, I wrote them in here. And you’re in here now too, Cynthia.”
Cynthia’s eyes watered as she looked up at John Michael. It took some effort on her part to clear them before she turned her gaze back to his mother. “I’m honored to be in your journal, Ms. Marilee.”
Marilee stroked the floral cover softly, lovingly. “I read this when I’m not myself. Sometimes it helps me to remember. Sometimes it doesn’t help at all. More importantly, when I’m gone for good—when I can’t make it back from wherever it is I go when I leave here—I want my John to read it. It’s a guide, you see.”
“A guide? Like a map?” Cynthia asked.
Marilee’s eyes sparkled with a mixture of joy and sadness. “More like an instruction guide.” She gave Cynthia a wink. “J.D. would never admit to it, of course, but he loves it when I tell him what to do. It keeps him from having to make a decision.”
Laughter bubbled up from Cynthia’s belly, until she was wiping tears from her eyes. “Ms. Marilee, you haven’t changed a bit. You sound so much like my mom.”
“Your mother and I shared some good times, dear. She was always there for me when times were rough. You laugh like her, you know.”
Cynthia wiped a wayward tear from the corner of her eye. “Would you mind me taking a picture with you?”
“Oh, not at all. Come on over here. We took tons of them before you got here. A couple more won’t hurt.”
Cynthia pulled up the camera app on her phone and showed John Michael how to work it. They posed for a couple of shots. Afterwards, Cynthia took Marilee’s face in her hands and kissed her cheek. “I’m so glad I got to see you.”
Marilee smiled at her as she patted her hand. “I am too, dear. Come back soon.”
Cynthia rose and stood beside John Michael again. “Yes, ma’am, I will. Next time I’ll bring my mother.”
Marilee’s broad smile began to fade as her brow creased in a slow-forming frown. “Your mother, dear? And who is she?”
“Bess, Ms. Marilee. My mother, Bess Robicheaux.”
Marilee shook her head. “I-I don’t know any Bess. And I don’t know you. Who are you?”
John Michael sucked in his breath, his body tensing suddenly. When Cynthia reached for his hand he grabbed at it like a drowning man would a life preserver.
Marilee looked around the room, growing more flustered by the second. “I-I don’t know any of you. But I feel as though I should.” Her gaze landed on her great grandchildren. “Oh, what adorable … oh—they’re like tiny little people. What’s the word I’m looking for?”
“They’re our babies,” Zachary said, answering her question.
“Yes. Babies. But why are they here? Why are any of you here?”
J.D. got to his feet slowly. “It’s time to go, everyone.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. But I think you should.” She looked down at her polyester pants and silk blouse. “I’m not presentable enough to meet …” She paused, as though searching her mind for a particular word. “To meet …” She looked around, growing more frantic, but still clutching her journal tightly to her chest. “I think you should go.”
J.D. spoke in a soothing tone to his wife. “Now, now, we were just leaving. I think we may have walked into the wrong room. But, it’s all right, I assure you, Ma’am. We’re all harmless.” He picked up her room phone. “Would you like me to call your nurse for you?”
Her panic seemed to lessen at his reassurances. “My nurse? Why, yes, if you don’t mind.”
John Michael’s gaze stayed glued to his father as J.D. called for the nurse and continued to soothe his wife. During those few minutes Cynthia’s gaze remained locked onto her John. The features of his face tightened at the torture of seeing his father lose his wife one more time.
The worst of it, obviously, had to be wondering if she’d ever return to them. She tried
to pull her hand from his so she could join Cat and Zach in the hallway with the babies. John Michael held tightly to it, keeping her there with him in the room’s doorway while his gaze remained on his father.
Finally, Marilee calmed. Although clueless as to her husband’s identity, she at least didn’t seem upset by his presence. By the time he left the room, Cat and Zach had already left for their own home with the twins.
J.D. tried to smile through his obvious heartache. “She’s fine now. I don’t like to leave her upset. It’s not good for her health or mine. There’ll be another time.”
John Michael reached out to him. “Pop …” He gave his father a one armed hug, never relinquishing his grip on Cynthia’s hand.
“I know, Johnny. I know.” J.D. returned his son’s hug, gave him a pat on the back before he pulled away. “We can only do what we can do.”
“I know, Pop, but I can’t help worrying about you.”
Cynthia wiped her eyes and sniffed. “Are you okay, Mr. J.D.? Physically, I mean?”
He reached out to give her a reassuring touch on the shoulder. “I’m fine, Cynthia. Really, I am. There’s no need for either of you to worry about me.” He looked down, rubbed the back of his neck with one hand.
“I used to explain to her who I was, who she was, give her a rundown of our life and her disease. But she’d get so upset. Sometimes she’d be paranoid and tell me I was lying to her. Other times she said she believed me but didn’t seem to care one way or the other. Most times, once I was finished she’d ask me who I was again.”
He took a deep breath and released it. “Sometimes, she stares blankly and doesn’t say a word. It seems easier for us all when I say we came into the wrong room. She doesn’t seem nearly as uncomfortable with the story.” His gaze settled on their linked hands and he grunted, giving them a nod before turning away. “I’ve got to hit the head, and then we can go, Johnny.”
“Sure, Pop.”
Cynthia waited until he’d disappeared into the men’s room before releasing the half-sob she’d been struggling to hold back. “Oh, God. John Michael! I’m so sorry.” She turned into him, looping her free arm around his waist. He hugged her back tightly, folding her hand close to his chest. They stood there in the middle of the corridor, as though posed for a slow dance.
