Moon Over Alcatraz

by Patricia Yager Delagrange

  “Thank goodness,” Stephanie said. “I thought he might be, well…dead.”

  “You aren’t the only one.” I smiled at her, unbelievably relieved.

  “What in God’s name happened Brandy?” Cecilia asked.

  I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. “Weston saw Edward and me in the kitchen.” I looked over at the two women who were privy to the drama in my life. “Edward was kissing me on the neck.” Cecilia’s eyes widened. Stephanie leaned forward in her seat. “Weston went ballistic, socked Edward in the face and he fell out the back door and down the stairs.”

  They turned toward each other then back at me.

  “Is Edward going to press charges?” Stephanie asked.

  I shook my head. “He told me he’d make a deal with Weston. He won’t press charges if Weston files the final divorce papers.”

  Cecilia’s eyebrows shot up. “Edward must really be in love with you, Brandy.”

  I nodded.

  “Do you love him?” Stephanie whispered.

  Tears sprang to my eyes. I’d been in an emotional tailspin and felt drained from all that had happened. I looked down at the floor, thinking about Weston and Edward and Jessica and me. One thought stuck out prominently over all others. “Yes,” I replied quietly. I’d meant it when I told Edward in the hospital that I loved him. I glanced up quickly. “Yes!” I shouted.

  I could hardly see through the blur of tears. Both women popped up off the couch and came over to where I sat. Cecilia plopped down on one side of me, Stephanie on the other. They each put an arm around my shoulders and gave me a hug.

  “I told you you’d know when the time was right,” Cecilia said, squeezing me close to her side. “Didn’t I?”

  I nodded then looked over at her. “You sure did.”

  Chapter 43

  Edward was released from the hospital the next morning, Christmas Eve, and he agreed to come to my house to recuperate. I could tell he was antsy and he didn’t want to be pampered or rest in a bed. The murder case he’d been working on for months was scheduled to begin the day after Christmas. I didn’t want him to push himself too hard, but he was extraordinarily stubborn when it came to his work and anxious to be fully prepared for trial.

  We’d only been home a few hours when the doorbell rang. A young man holding a brown envelope stood on the front step.

  “Are you Mrs. Brandy Chambers?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  He extended his arm with the envelope and said, “You’ve been legally served.” He turned and walked away.

  I undid the clasp, pulled out several sheets of paper, and was confronted with three words in big bold letters: Dissolution of Marriage. Weston had obviously talked with his attorney that morning and gone ahead with the divorce.

  Now I wouldn’t have to phone Claudette—one less call to make, one less item on my to-do list. I physically and mentally let out a sigh of relief. Though I’d already made the decision to go ahead with the divorce, the fact Weston had initiated the final proceedings was a validation for me. He must have known his behavior at the Christmas party would be the final nail in his coffin, and decided not to fight the inevitability of our final separation.

  I played nurse to Edward all day, wanting him to recuperate quickly so he could go back to work. The murder trial weighed heavily on his mind and he was anxious to have it behind him. I couldn’t imagine how he did it—knowing his client had killed a five-year-old girl, yet believing his job was to prove him innocent.

  He’d explained the time it might take for witnesses to testify and the jury to deliberate. It could be a day or it could take weeks then the verdict would be read and it would be over. He was confident his client would be found innocent and after the verdict came in, he’d literally and mentally close the file and focus on his other clients.

  After fixing dinner, I went up to my bedroom and found him sleeping, sprawled across the bed, legs tangled in the sheets. I knelt down next to the bed and watched him, grateful he’d only received a mild concussion and nothing more severe after his fall.

  “Edward,” I whispered, knowing he’d sleep through the night and miss dinner if I didn’t wake him up.

  His eyes fluttered open, and he smiled. “Hey,” he mumbled.

  “You’ve been asleep for hours. I made dinner. Would you like me to bring it to you in bed?”

  He sat up, leaning back against the pillows. “No, thanks. I’d like to get out of bed and shower, walk around.”

  I grinned. “You don’t know how to do nothing, do you?”

  He shook his head. “Tomorrow’s Christmas, Brandy. I have a few errands I need to take care of.”

  I sat on the side of the bed and took hold of his hand. “You can’t act like nothing happened to you. You have a concussion. You’re supposed to take it easy.”

  “I feel fine. I won’t go jogging or to the gym to lift weights. I’ll come downstairs and eat dinner with you after I take a shower.” He leaned over and kissed me lightly on the lips. “Then I have to go out for a short while.”

  I shook my head and let out a sigh. “Okay. I’ll be in the kitchen. Take your time. There are clean towels and shampoo and everything you need in the bathroom.”

  I could hear the shower running as I set the table and took the vegetable casserole out of the oven. I’d also made a salad and was pouring a couple of glasses of sparkling water when he walked in. His hair was slicked back and he had a two-day stubble covering his cheeks. I’d brought him a change of clothes from his house and his jeans hung low on his hips, a white t-shirt setting off his dark hair and mustache. He looked sexy as hell.

  I set a plate in front of him and he waited for me to be seated before taking his first bite.

  “This is delicious. I’m glad I didn’t have to spend Christmas Eve eating hospital food.”

  Laughing, I agreed with him. “Me too. I guess you’re stuck spending Christmas day with me and Jessica.”

  A grin graced his gorgeous face. “I consider that a Christmas gift, Brandy, so you don’t have to give me another present.”

  “Sorry, I already have something special for you. It’s under the Christmas tree.”

  “And I have to go out for just a few minutes.” I opened my mouth to protest. He placed a finger over my lips. “Stop. I’ll be gone for less than a half hour, I swear. The stores are open until at least nine o’clock and I know exactly what I want so it won’t take me any time at all.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “You promise you won’t go to the office to work on the murder case?”

  Putting up his right hand, palm facing me, he said, “I promise. I’ll be home in thirty minutes, Mom.”

  “God, you’re exasperating. But you’ve got to take it easy. And tomorrow as well. You were just discharged from the hospital for God’s sake.”

  “And I feel fine, Brandy. I’ll rest up tomorrow and be ready to go to trial the day after.”

  There was no shaking his resolve. He was a very determined man. I couldn’t tie him down and force him to stay in bed, his body would tell him if he was overdoing it anyway. He left shortly after dinner, and I fed Jessica and rocked her to sleep.

  When he entered the front door thirty minutes later, his face lit up when he crossed into the front room. “I always love Christmas time and your place feels so homey.”

  A wealth of ornaments hung on the Christmas tree, tiny glittering lights throughout its branches. Stockings were strung on the mantel above the fireplace and the scent of evergreen permeated the front room.

  “Thank you. I had fun getting the house ready for the party but I couldn’t have done it without Cecilia and Perry. We worked for hours the night before so it would really have that holiday feeling.”

  “Why don’t I build a fire?” he asked. “I notice you have logs right here. Then we can cuddle on the sofa and wait for Santa.”

  Taking his hand, I led him to the couch and pushed him down onto the cushions. “I’ll build the fire. You sit here and watch
me. You have to take it easy, Edward. You’re so stubborn.”

  Grabbing me around the waist, he pulled me down on top of him. “I can be stubborn about a lot of things. And one of them is you. How many times do I have to ask you to marry me?”

  I wriggled out of his grasp and rolled onto the rug. “I have to put these logs on the grate and light newspaper under them. I promise to discuss this with you tomorrow. We’ve both had a trying two days, Edward. You just got out of the hospital. Let’s enjoy the peace and quiet of our first Christmas Eve together.”

  “Agreed,” he said, grabbing the quilt off the back of the couch. He settled into the couch and watched as the flames licked the edges of the paper and the wood crackled and spit.

  I sat down next to him and he pulled the blanket over my legs, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “I love you, Brandy. I don’t know what I can do to prove it to you.”

  I kissed him then leaned my head on the back of the couch. “You don’t have to do anything to prove it to me. I see it in everything you say to me, how you treat me, the way you are when we’re together. I just want to be with you right now, Edward—no heavy discussions, no mention of Weston. I want to watch the flames and let them lull me to sleep. I’m mentally drained.”

  He pulled me in closer and I laid my head on his chest, snuggling against his firm muscles, reveling in his manly scent.

  “Me too. It feels so good having you here in my arms. I’ll enjoy this time we have together, no pressure. Merry Christmas, by the way.”

  My eyes were closed and I could feel myself drifting asleep, listening to his voice, feeling the warmth of the fire’s blaze. “Merry Christmas,” I whispered.

  Chapter 44

  I woke up the next morning still lying on the couch, Edward’s arm draped over my back, my head on his chest. Gently lowering myself onto the rug, I tiptoed into the kitchen to make us coffee. I brought in a tray filled with fresh croissants, butter, strawberry jam, and two latte’s, and set it on the coffee table.

  Leaning over, I placed my lips softly over his then gently pried them open with my tongue, deepening the kiss. His eyes fluttered open and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me on top of him.

  “Did Santa come last night?” he whispered.

  “Let me check.” I sat up then walked over to the tree, kneeling down beside it. “Well, I’ll be darned, this one has your name on it.” Bringing the tiny box over to where he sat on the couch, I placed it on the cushion next to him.

  “Merry Christmas, Edward. I hope you’ll like your gift.”

  He smiled and picked up the box. After pushing aside the red curlicue bow, he tore off the wrapping and slowly opened the lid. Pulling aside the white tissue, he looked down to find a small white card with my writing scrawled across the front. He mouthed the words, “Yes, I will.” He paused then looked up at me. “It says, ‘Yes, I wi—’ Oh, Jesus, do you mean, yes, you’ll marry me?”

  I smiled a Cheshire cat grin. “Yes.”

  He pushed me back onto the couch, kissing me deeply and completely, his hand digging between the cushions. Sitting up, I asked, “What are you doing?”

  Pulling out a small gold-wrapped box with a red velvet bow tied around it, he placed it in my lap. “Merry Christmas, Brandy.”

  I untied the bow then gently unwrapped the box, revealing a small blue velvet jewelry case—the perfect size for a pair of earrings. But, when I flipped open the lid, there lay a huge diamond ring.

  “Will you marry me, Brandy?”

  Tears welled up in my eyes then rolled down my cheeks. “It would make me the happiest woman on the planet.”

  He knelt down and took the ring out of the box. Placing it on my left hand, he leaned in and kissed me. “On my birthday?”

  I nodded. “On your birthday. February first. Do you think the trial will be over by then?”

  “It starts tomorrow, and I’d bet it doesn’t last more than a month. But if it goes beyond that, I’ll ask for a motion to delay for a couple of days so we can get married. I want you to be my wife, Brandy.” He paused. “What about the divorce?”

  “I received the final divorce papers yesterday. Weston must have talked with his attorney immediately.” I raised my left hand, turning it left and right in front of us, admiring the diamond’s sparkling facets. “Dennis’s Designs on Park Street, right?”

  He grinned. “How’d you know?”

  “Because I’ve walked by the place a hundred times and always stop to admire their jewelry. He creates all his own rings, you know.”

  “Which is why I knew exactly where to go. I’m an Alameda homeboy, Brandy. Come on now.”

  “You know what? I don’t want to talk. I just want to sit here with you under the blanket and make out. Are you up for it?”

  He reached over and took my hand, placing it

  in his lap. “Did you ask me if I was up for it?”

  I could feel what he was getting at and burst out laughing. “You are too funny. I love that about you. Life is serious enough without making all our moments together solemn, right?”

  His face suddenly turned thoughtful. He lay sideways on the couch, bringing me beside him. “I don’t want to talk either, no jokes—nothing. I want to simply look at you. Then I want to make love to you. Just like we did at my house in front of the fire last time, remember?”

  “You think I’d forget? That was the most out of body experience I’ve ever had with a man. I—”

  He placed his index finger on my lips. “Shhh. Don’t say another word.”

  Then, so slowly, like watching a movie on slow speed, he undid the buttons on my shirt, revealing the thin silk camisole beneath. He slid his tongue in and around my navel, pulled the camisole over my head, then massaging my breasts. Walking tiny kisses up and down my stomach, he squeezed my nipples, turning them round and round with his fingers. I arched my back, whispering his name. He replaced his hands with his mouth on first one breast, then the other.

  I needed the release burning in my groin. Reaching for the zipper of his pants, I ripped it down, feeling inside for his full and erect member, stiff as steel beneath his briefs. I remembered the pleasure he’d brought me the last time we’d made love and I couldn’t wait to experience it again.

  He quickly untied the bow on the waistline of my sweatpants, shoving them past my knees along with my bikini underwear. I didn’t waste a second on foreplay. Edward appeared more than ready, and I didn’t have the patience to wait. I placed him between my legs and he glided inside me. After the first careful thrust, he began a frenzied pattern of entry, then partial exit, driving me crazy with needing him, wanting every inch of him inside me.

  I didn’t want him to stop his relentless thrusts, moving me toward the waves of my orgasm. He could feel my squeezing undulations surrounding him and I knew he’d soon experience his own heady release. Looking down at me with those blue eyes, he mouthed, “I love you,” as he continued pushing faster, his breathing labored, his chest heaving with exertion. I hoped he’d never stop, wishing this would never end.

  I cupped my hands over his back side, pushing him deeper, until he arched his back, head toward the ceiling, and groaned my name. His body shuddered, then stilled, and he slumped back onto his side.

  This time differed from the last. It felt as though he was trying to crawl inside me with his body. And I needed him to fill me up completely with his. I was wonderfully satisfied. If I could do this every day of my life until I died, I would know I’d been given a special gift. Making love with this man was otherworldly, transporting me to a place close to nirvana.

  His breathing slowed and his hand moved up and down the side of my arm. He reached up and circled my lips with his thumb and whispered, “What just happened?”

  I stared unblinking into his eyes. “I’m not sure. I’ve never been there before. With anyone.”

  “It was scary. I don’t remember what was going through my mind. I couldn’t think about anything except how much I wanted yo
u, how good you felt, how much I loved making you come. I was here, but not here.”

  I didn’t have anything I could add. Making love with Edward was something I had no words for, the most right I’d felt with any man.

  He was right for me. He was the one. I knew it now. I had my answer.

  Chapter 45

  Edward was engrossed 24/7 in the murder trial, and I was deeply involved in my third book. I hadn’t heard from Brent about whether his editor friend, Mark Stefano, had any news about Harper Collins’ interest in my second novel. However, since it could likely take three or more months I tried to put it on my mental back burner and engage my mind in writing. Jessica stayed awake longer, and I enjoyed my time with her. I found it comforting when she sat in her baby seat next to me while I worked on my MacBook.

  When New Year’s Eve rolled around and Edward looked as tired as I felt, we decided to postpone any celebrating until our wedding. We made a huge bowl of popcorn and settled in front of the television to watch Activities Around the Globe. We found it fascinating, the footage skipping from the U.S. to Jerusalem, to London, New York, and Chicago, hundreds of people dancing in the streets, bands playing, kids running wild—an eye-opening experience, learning how other cultures and countries brought in the New Year.

  At eleven p.m., I looked over at him, his head on my shoulder. He’d already fallen asleep, and I smiled to myself. What a lively pair we made! In our thirties and already acting like an old married couple. After the ball dropped in Times Square, I gently slipped my shoulder out from under his head, replaced it with a pillow, and went to bed. Jessica had been asleep since seven o’clock and the house lay silent.

  At nine a.m. I got up and realized she hadn’t wakened for her regular six a.m. feeding. She gurgled in her crib, and I picked her up and crept downstairs. Edward was still asleep. I made sure not to make any noise as I brewed coffee, warmed up a croissant in the microwave for breakfast, and heated up a bottle for Jess. He’d already told me he was going into the office though it was New Year’s Day. I had no specific plans of my own other than watching the parade, taking a nap, playing with Jess, or reading a book.