Chapter 18
“It’s hard to believe it’s been five whole days since Rosie’s operation,” Sister Cookie said as she held out a glass of lemonade to Emily. “It’s going to be so wonderful for you when you see her. What time is Matt picking you up?”
“In about twenty minutes. Sister, I came up here because I wanted to talk to you about something. Now look, I’m not of your faith so I don’t…what I mean is I believe in God and…you and the others always talk about miracles and…what makes a miracle?”
“God.”
“That night, something very strange happened to me. I swore to myself I wasn’t going to ever talk about it, but I can’t get it out of my mind. If you have a minute, I want to tell you a little about what happened up there on the trail.”
“I have as many minutes as you need, Emily. Now, take a deep breath and tell me.”
“I see,” Sister Cookie said when Emily had finished.
“Was it my subconscious or was it really Ian? I need to know, Sister. It was so real. I swear, Sister, on all that is holy, that he physically picked me up at one point. I felt…I felt him. Now, am I crazy or did that happen?”
“I don’t know, Emily. If I were you, I think I would want to believe the Almighty’s hand was on your shoulder. In this case, Ian’s hand if he was one of God’s Messengers. God takes care of us, Emily. All you have to do is ask and He’s there for you. You needed Him. For you, it was Ian. Believe that and hold on to it. It could have happened, and I for one would classify that as a miracle, but then I’m one of those renegade nuns everyone talks about. It could have been your subconscious at work too. If it’s important for you to believe it was Ian, then there are two of us who believe it. You and me. Ian came through for you when you really needed him. It doesn’t matter how or why. He did. And that alone, Emily, should erase a lot of the bad that has shackled you for so long.”
“I tried calling him back, but he didn’t respond. He’s gone forever now, isn’t he, Sister?”
“Maybe he’s going to be your Guardian Angel,” Cookie said with a twinkle in her eye.
“Now that’s a hoot,” Emily replied. “Thanks for talking to me, Sister. Thanks for believing with me. I do, you know.”
“Isn’t it a wonderful feeling?”
“I woke up with a smile these past days. I feel lighter, buoyant somehow. Is that crazy or what?”
“Not at all. Was there a song in your heart?”
“Not really.”
“There will be. I hear Matt’s jeep. Don’t forget the basket for Rosie and give her our love.”
“I will.”
“Matt Haliday is a fine man,” Cookie said slyly.
Matt looked fit, clean-shaven, slicked-down hair, clean khakis, polished loafers, and he smells good too, Emily thought as she settled herself.
“How are you feeling?”
He sounds like he cares. “Still a little stiff if I sit too long. I have lots and lots of scabs; that’s why I’m wearing long sleeves. Makeup can’t cover my facial abrasions, but I can live with them. I have to thank Ivan. What if he hadn’t decided to go up on the trail? I could still be wandering around. You too, Matt. I wanted to call you, but…I didn’t.”
“You can call me anytime, Emily. My home phone number is on the bulletin board. That’s why we’re here. It’s our job to look after the guests and to do our best to keep the forests safe. I hear Rosie is ready to come home, but she’s running a slight fever. Maybe tomorrow. Do you know why she didn’t want her children called?”
“I guess she didn’t want to worry them. Mothers are like that.”
“But…”
“I’m sure one of the sisters would have called if things…went from bad to serious. What do you do on your days off besides drive guests around?”
“Usually just hang out. Cook a roast. I like to cook. I do some gardening, take the kids places. They went with friends on an overnight camping trip so I’m at loose ends. Listen, would you like to have dinner with me? I made a pot of spaghetti earlier. I even used some sun-dried tomatoes. I know how to make garlic bread and I’ve got some real good beer to wash it all down with.”
“I’d like that, Matt.”
Matt stared at her and then back at the road. For some strange reason she felt comfortable with this man. There was no fear, no anxiety. It seemed as if she’d known him for a long time.
“You look pretty spiffy.”
“Me?”
“Yep, you.” God, why had she said that?
“Am I supposed to say you look spiffy too?”
Emily laughed. “It would be nice. Clotheswise, that is. Forget the flesh with all the scratches and scabs. I just hope I don’t scare Rosie.” He had seven freckles marching across the bridge of his nose that were still easy to see with his deep tan. She felt a smile work its way around her mouth.
“Emily, would you like to talk about your hours on the trail? I’m a good listener if you do.”
Emily thought about the question. Anything less than an honest answer to this new friend—and he was a friend—would have been cheating. “No. Maybe sometime, but not now.”
“Okay. Yeah, you look spiffy, too,” he said with a wry grin.
“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” She was flirting and he was flirting back. At their ages. A silly grin attached itself to her face.
“Do you like horror flicks?”
Emily shrugged. “Why?”
“I thought if you didn’t have to go right back after dinner we could watch one. The sisters have them by the bushel. My son likes to watch them so Gussie loans them to me. I cannot get used to the idea that those gentle souls like that stuff. Chain-saw murders, decapitations, the gorier the better. They read that stuff too. You know that and then you see them kneeling, saying their rosaries. It doesn’t compute.”
“They’re human like the rest of us. I don’t understand all that much about priests and nuns, but it seems unnatural for them to give up everything from the outside world. Not only unnatural, but unfair. They can still do all their good works and keep that part of themselves that belongs to the outside world. That’s only my opinion,” she added hastily.
“Are we talking about sex here or the blood and guts movies and books?” Matt asked, his eyes on the road straight ahead.
“Everything. I wouldn’t want to give up sex, would you? I kind of like it. What I mean is…oh, Lord, I don’t believe I said that.” Emily blushed.
Matt guffawed. “I’ll pretend you didn’t say it.”
“Why don’t we talk about something else? What do you put in your sauce?”
Still laughing, Matt explained. “Tomatoes, paste, a little oil, oregano, some pork neck bones. I cook it for seven hours.”
“Why?” Emily asked, perplexed.
“It gets thicker. I hate watery sauce. Am I doing it wrong?”
“I don’t know. I only cook mine for three hours. It tastes pretty good to me. Doesn’t it get bitter?”
“Maybe that’s why the kids like to eat at their friends’ houses. Well, you can tell me tonight. It’ll be cooking seven hours by the time we get home.”
“It must be hard for you to be both mother and father to your children. How do you do it with all the hours you put in?”
“In the beginning it was hard. The neighbors helped. The sisters did their share and Ivan plays at being an uncle. They adore him as well as the sisters. The kids cooperated all the way. Gradually things got easier. We have a routine and we all try to stick to it. Everyone has chores. In the beginning I…didn’t handle it very well. You know, Why me, why did this have to happen to me, that kind of thing? The sisters worked me through that. It seems like a very long time ago.”
He sounds, Emily thought, like he’s still in love with his wife. The smile left her face.
“We’re here. There’s Ivan’s four by four.” He winked at Emily, who stared at him blankly.
“Is something wrong, Emily?”
“No. I start
ed to think about Rosie. Remembering.” She reached behind her for the picnic basket.
“Here, let me carry that.”
“I can carry it,” Emily said tightly.
“I know you can. I was trying to be a gentleman about it. If you’re one of those uptight females, that’s okay with me.” There was laughter in his voice that Emily ignored.
She was miffed and it was silly and stupid of her. Why shouldn’t he still be in love with his wife? He’d obviously had a good marriage, and when it ended, he grieved. Like I did, only I didn’t have a good marriage. He has children, constant reminders of his wife. Open your heart, Emily, and be generous of spirit, she scolded herself.
She liked him. A lot. It was going to be a problem for her if she didn’t…do what? She was jumping ahead of herself here. So far he’d expressed no serious interest in her. So what if he invited her for dinner and then asked her to stay and watch a movie? So what? Lots of people did things like that and it didn’t mean a thing. Friendships were made up of little encounters like this. She was hardly in a position to expect more. She’d only known the man for a few short weeks.
“Here,” she said, handing over the picnic basket. Matt reached out and took it from her, his hand touching hers. She felt a tingle race up her arm. “I’m used to doing everything for myself. It’s nice when someone offers to help. I find it…very difficult to…to ask. I’m not referring to the picnic basket…well, yes, in a way I am.”
Matt wiped imaginary sweat from his brow and said, “Whew, I’m glad we settled that. For a minute there I thought maybe we’d come to blows.”
Emily giggled at his lopsided grin. A sense of humor, a prime requisite for a prime friendship that might, just might, turn into something more.
In the elevator, Emily tried not to stare at her companion. She was aware of the closeness of him, the very cleanness of him. She loved khakis, loved uniforms of any kind. She thought about Ian’s white lab coats, his white shirts, and then she thought about Ben and the sweat suits he wore all the time. Damn, she didn’t want to think about Ben, not when she was in the company of someone like Matt.
“I’ll buy you an ice cream cone if you tell me what you’re thinking right this minute,” Matt said.
“I was thinking about how creased and pressed you look,” Emily lied. “What were you thinking about at the same moment?”
“I was thinking maybe I should kiss you right here in this elevator.”
“Sometimes it doesn’t pay to think. Sometimes it pays to act on what one thinks,” Emily said boldly.
“Uh-huh,” Matt said, setting the picnic basket down on the floor.
He drew his arms around her, holding her close to him. She realized how tall he was, towering over her, lifting her chin with the tips of his fingers to look down into her eyes. His lips, when they touched hers, were soft, giving as well as taking, gently persuading her to respond. His arm cradling her against him was firm and strong, but his fingers still touching her face were tender, trailing whispery shadows over her bruised cheekbones. Having him kiss her seemed to be the most natural beginning to their new friendship. It was just that. A kiss. A tender gesture, tempting an answer but demanding none.
Matt stepped back, his gaze locked with hers. “I’m too old to play emotional games,” he said. “Seventeen-year-olds do that and I’m a far cry from seventeen. Besides, more often than not they hurt rather than give pleasure. I like you, Emily. I’d like to get to know you better.”
Emily’s heart thumped. She nodded. “I’d like to get to know you better too. Maybe when you see me eating spaghetti, you’ll change your mind. I tend to drip it down my shirt. Usually I wear something red when I’m going Italian.”
“So I’ll give you a bib. I’m fifty-five, Emily.” He looked away for a moment as he waited for her response.
Emily laughed. “If that’s a hint for me to declare my age, think again. Everyone knows the second half of one’s life is supposed to be the best.”
“I heard that too. Guess we’ll just have to see if we can prove it. I already know how old you are. I tricked Sister Phillie into letting me see your reservation. Date of birth, etc, etc, etc.”
Emily flushed. He’d looked up her reservation. That meant serious interest on his part. She herself had asked questions about Matt Haliday, which meant she, too, was interested. Chemistry.
“The elevator door’s been open for a while,” she said. “We should probably get off.”
“I noticed that.” Matt laughed. “We could ride down again and then ride up and do the same thing all over again. Want to?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I do,” Emily said, backing farther into the elevator.
His arms were around her the moment the door closed. This time the kiss lasted longer, but was just as sweet and tender as the first time. He was still kissing her when the elevator rose. When the elevator stopped on the fourth floor, Matt relaxed his hold on her. “Damn good thing it stopped. I was seriously thinking about sex in an elevator.”
Emily gurgled with laughter. “I was too.”
“Ahhhh,” was all he could say.
Emily followed Matt down the corridor to Rosie’s room. She winked at Rosie and gave her head a slight nod. Rosie smiled from ear to ear.
“You just missed Ivan.”
“Good thing,” Matt said. “Otherwise there would be nothing left in this basket for you. The sisters, according to Emily here, packed everything you love. How’s the food here?”
“Terrible. Emily, how are you?” Rosie asked with such concern that Emily felt tears prick her eyelids.
“I guess I do look like five miles of used road. Actually, I feel pretty good. My joints don’t feel as stiff as they did. The bruising is fading and so is the swelling. A lot of the scabs are starting to itch so I guess that means I’m healing. You look great; how do you feel?”
“Fine. I’m walking better. I thought an appendectomy was a piece of cake, but it isn’t. I’m running a slight fever. If it goes down, I can go home tomorrow. Ivan said he’d pick me up and drive me back. He’s been coming by every day. He said he feels responsible for me since he carried me down the mountain. You saved my life, Emily. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”
“I’m just sorry it took me so long. God, Rosie, when it got dark, I thought for sure we were both done for. We both made it thanks to Ivan and…and a friend. Let’s not think negative thoughts. Everything happens for a reason. You can just forget that repayment business too. Not another word, Rosie.”
“Okay. So, what are you two up to?” Rosie grinned.
“Up to? As compared to what?” Matt asked, matching her grin.
“You know, are you off today? What’s going on at the Retreat? How are those renegade sisters doing? Ivan has told me some pretty wild stories.”
“Don’t believe half of them. Those sisters are the finest people I’ve ever met. They contribute to this hospital every year. Did you know that?”
Rosie and Emily shook their heads.
“They give to the old age home and the orphanage too. Money as well as their time. They practice what they preach. Not too many people do that,” Matt said.
“I wasn’t criticizing them,” Rosie said. “I think it’s wonderful and funny at the same time. I wish I had their philosophy and disposition. Guess what, I lost twelve pounds.”
“No!” Emily laughed.
“Yes, I did. It’s going to be that much easier to start that regimen you’re going to map out for me.”
“Only when the doctor gives the okay,” Emily said firmly.
A nurse bustled into the room. “Doctor is making rounds now. Visitors can wait in the waiting room or they can leave,” she said briskly.
“This takes forever, guys, so you might as well leave. Thanks for coming by. I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow. Did you bring me anything to read?”
Emily nodded. “The Woodchopper Murder and Venom in the Blood. I passed on Nights in the Bayou. It’s about alligators chewi
ng up the residents at a religious retreat.” Matt burst out laughing. Emily joined him. Rosie threw a box of tissues at their retreating backs.
In Matt’s car on the way to his house, Emily realized something strange was happening to her. She was feeling. The process, as she thought about it, was like pinpricks of awareness making her alive again. Really and truly alive. She risked a side glance at Matt. Great profile. Maturity. Muscular in all the right places. Her neck felt warm.
She was feeling. I’m Emily Thorn. Divorced. Widowed. CEO of a thriving company. Successful. It hit her like a bolt of lightning. Those are things I did…do, not who I am. I’m Emily Thorn. Me, Emily the person.
Something was happening to her, had been slowly happening since her arrival here in the Smoky Mountains. She was viewing things differently, feeling everything.
“Well, here we are, my humble abode. It looks small from the outside,” he said, hopping from the jeep. He walked around to the side and opened the door for Emily.
“It used to be a summer cottage and I added on and winterized it. I was born about a mile from here. Do you like it?”
“It’s very nice,” Emily said. “I love front porches. Do you ever sit out here?” she asked as Matt guided her up to the wide plank porch.
“When I have the time. Usually late at night when I have things to think about. I tend to fall asleep in the chair and wake up with a crick in my neck. Come on, I’ll give you the two-minute tour.”
“It smells wonderful,” Emily said, wrinkling her nose in approval.
“Garlic. And onions. This is the living room,” he said airily, his arm waving about.
Emily looked around. The room was square with deep furniture covered with flowered chintz that matched the drapes. A braided rug was in the middle of the floor. It looked homemade. Everywhere she looked there were pictures of a smiling young woman. Emily felt her tongue grow thick in her mouth. Too many pictures. Too many memories. She wondered how she compared to the smiling woman with the pony tail and laughing eyes.
“This is the dining room, which is really an extension of the living room. We eat in the kitchen. The truth is I think we live in the kitchen. As you can see, it’s big. I extended it when I added the family room on to the back of the house. A bathroom too. Those kids of mine stay in there for hours. I’d never make it to work if we only had one.”
Dear Emily Page 29
