Remember This Day
Mairsile
Remember This Day
© 2014 by Mairsile. All Rights Reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form, without written permission from the author.
Cover Design: Mairsile
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Acknowledgements
This is the fourth in the Aidan and Vicky series. There will be plenty more adventures for the two lovers. Visit me on Facebook for the latest, or you can find me on www.Mairsile.com.
Again and again, a million thanks to Joyce, my best friend and supporter extraordinaire.
Special thanks to Brenda S., for her expertise in midwifery. You are such a blessing Brenda!
A million more thanks to L.Fox, my best friend who came to my rescue allowing me to keep doing what I love. God bless you!
As always, a great big thank you to all the men and women, who have served or are serving in the American military. You are my heroes.
And last, but never least, may the glory go to God.
Mairsile
Chapter 1
A soft whimper and a twitch of her lover’s hand woke Aidan from a restless sleep. Her thoughts balanced themselves quickly when she heard again, a whimper coming from her betrothed. Vicky laid on her side, facing away from Aidan with her small hands tucked up under her chin, her bare shoulder uncovered to the cool night air, and her thick blonde hair tangled across the pale freckles on her cheek. Aidan rolled over and began to rub Vicky’s back gently, her warm touch calming her lover’s dreams. “I love you, baby,” she whispered, as she slipped silently out of the bed, careful not to wake her, now that she was finally sleeping soundly again. Aidan pulled the blanket up over Vicky’s shoulders, and walked out of their bedroom, down the hall and into the kitchen.
Opening the refrigerator door, her tall nude body illuminated by the incandescent light, Aidan pulled out a yellowish-brown colored bottle and closed the door, waiting briefly for her eyes to adjust to the darkness again. She put the mouth of the beer bottle against the counter’s edge, and without much effort, popped the metal lid off, sending it flying across the countertop. Leaning back against the counter, Aidan closed her eyes and raised the bottle to her lips, tilting her head back to accept a large quantity of the amber ale, as it gushed from the bottle into her mouth.
She stepped over to the kitchen sink, and sat the bottle down on the counter as she looked out the small window at the night sky. But she didn’t see the sky; instead she saw her reflection in the window pane. Her short auburn hair looked brown in the reflection, and her emerald green eyes were dark and foreboding. Why couldn’t I protect her? She put her weight on her hands against the counter and bent her knees before they buckled. She lowered her head, as if it were too heavy to hold up with all the turbulent memories flashing through her mind. What if I’m like him? What if I can’t stop this rage inside of me?
Although the anger had been building since the moment she first learned that her father had raped her betrothed when she was only thirteen years old, it escalated to the point of retaliation last night, when her father held her lover hostage, and Aidan beat him into unconsciousness. If she could have had her way, she would not have stopped beating him until he was dead, but her soon to be father-in-law and her best friend, pulled her off of him. Her rage was assuaged, but not satisfied, and it tormented her still.
Aidan was suddenly jolted from the dark recesses of her mind, when she felt soft feathery fingers slide up her back and across her broad shoulders. She leaned her head back to accept the tingles running up her spine, and Vicky saw it as an invitation, running her small hand through Aidan’s hair, caressing her neck with such tenderness, that Aidan caught her breath as her fleshed trembled at the pleasure of Vicky’s touch.
“Are you all right, sweetheart?” Vicky asked concernedly. When she felt the chill of an empty bed on her nude skin, Vicky awoke instantly. Her lover had been restless throughout the night, even after their lovemaking had soothed their tormented minds, and rejoined their souls. Her apprehension drove her from the bed to find her fiancée.
Aidan turned around and leaned against the counter, pulling Vicky into her arms, her body molding into Vicky’s curvatures, her skin instantly warmed by Vicky’s touch. They willed each other to take from them whatever they needed, for they would willingly give their life’s spirit for the other.
“I’m fine, baby. Just needed to get a drink of water and ended up getting a beer instead.” Aidan replied with a weak smile.
Vicky knew better, but didn’t say anything. There was nothing she could say that wouldn’t escalate her own anxieties, which would only cascade over to Aidan’s already guilt-ridden emotions. At first she thought her lover had purged her anger last night, but they both knew that Harold, Aidan’s father, was not far from their lives, even now, as he sat in jail awaiting trial. She so desperately wanted to put that nightmare behind her and begin her new life with Aidan, but the albatross that hung over their heads was not going to make it easy for them.
Not that it had ever been easy for Aidan and Vicky, who together and separately had survived terrorist attacks and bombs, memory losses and ex-fiancée’s, sacrifices and abusive stalkers. They had survived by clinging to one another, bound together by their impenetrable love for the other. Both women were fiercely independent except when it came to protecting the other.
“Aidan, I need you to do me a favor.”
“Sure kid, what is it?”
“We only have a few weeks to go until our wedding, so each morning, when you wake up, I want you to say to yourself; today I am one day closer to my wedding day.”
Aidan smiled, running her strong hand up Vicky’s arm, and replied, “How about I say, today I am one day closer to marrying the most wonderful, beautiful, intelligent, intuitive, compassionate, loving angel on earth?”
“Well, if you insist,” Vicky grinned, “but I think it would be quicker just to make love to me instead.”
“Oh, I like that idea too.” Aidan growled lustfully. “In fact, if you’re not too tired right now…”
“I’m never too tired for you, lover.”
“You know, I hate to admit it,” Aidan said as she cupped Vicky’s breast, “but it’s times like this that I am so glad Jerry moved out.”
Vicky giggled and padded off toward the bedroom, while Aidan lingered only long enough to appreciate her nude derriere.
Two days before the wedding…
Joyce, as the matron of honor, had rented out the beautiful Villa Marre, in the Quapaw Quarters, for the bridal shower. The Villa was built in 1881, in the Italianate style, with a mansard roof, that sloped into a fish-scale motif. The corners of the building were in the quoins design, and the house had a covered entry way. In contrast to its old world look, the house sat just across the bridge from the city’s skyscrapers. Inside, there was a spiraling walnut staircase, where many a bride has had her wedding pictures taken, and tall windows with thick curtains, wood floors and frescoed ceilings. Joyce remembered seeing the house in the television show, Designing Women, and at one time, even thought about buying the house for her wife’s business. Today the Villa Marre is rented out for parties, business meetings, and weddings.
Joyce McMillan, Vicky’s best friend since college, is also a renowned cardiovascular surgeon from New York, where she lives with her wife, Ellen. Joyce was known for her bluntness as much as for her skill with a scalpel. With s
hort brown hair that had a touch of premature gray in it, thanks to the stress of becoming a surgeon, Joyce was handsome, with a strong jawline, hazel eyes and an athletic body that she kept in shape to withstand long hours in the operating room.
She wasn’t much for playing wedding shower games and the like, although Vicky’s mother, Alice, tried to talk her into it, instead she opted to go with storytelling, eating, drinking, and opening presents. One thing Joyce did encourage Alice to do, was play hostess. Joyce’s wife told her that Alice needed to feel like she was an important part of the wedding shower, so give her the most important job to do, that of being hostess to the guests. She knew that Joyce wasn’t big on things like that anyway, so it would be a perfect alternative for the both of them. Joyce thought she was kidding, but Alice took it to heart, like a kid at Christmas time, greeting people at the door, showing them around, and introducing them to everyone.
Alice Montgomery had until just recently, been vehemently against same sex relationships, especially her daughter’s. She knew deep down, though she would never admit it, that Vicky and Aidan were meant to be together, ever since they were in elementary school. But it was witnessing Aidan’s unequivocal love for Vicky just recently, that convince Alice that she had been wrong. Would she prefer to see her daughter marry a man instead, yes, she very much would prefer that, but would she deny the love between Vicky and Aidan any longer? No.
Ellen Olivier, Joyce’s wife of twelve years, was an inch taller than Joyce, with long black silky hair and a button nose. Her passion was designing weddings and she was well known and well liked in her field. She jumped at the chance to design Vicky’s wedding, not only because they were friends, but because of its challenging location. It was to be on top of the parking deck at St. Frances Hospital, the hospital that Vicky was CEO of. The icing on the cake for Ellen was that it was in the heart of Little Rock, Arkansas, a city that had never seen a same sex wedding of this magnitude before. Vicky gave Ellen carte blanche to show the world what their love represented, and she was going to do exactly that.
Ruth Mason, Alice’s sister, and Vicky’s favorite aunt, also her only aunt, gathered the gifts and put them in the drawing room.
Yvonne Roger’s duty, one that she volunteered for, which was fitting considering she was Vicky’s executive assistant at the hospital, was to write down the name with the gift, and help Vicky with the ‘thank you’ notes after the honeymoon.
They decided to have the shower as close as possible to the wedding, so that Joyce and other out of state friends would only have to fly in once. Joyce, being the equivalent of Superman, even scheduled an educational heart surgery at St. Frances the day before the wedding. She was afraid she’d be bored stiff, since Ellen would be busy setting up the wedding and Vicky would be busy with her wedding preparations as well. Of course Vicky loved the idea, and arranged with the surgery scheduler to make room for her in the new hybrid cardiology surgery suite.
Vicky, wearing a blue and green flower print, flared dress, with shoulder straps covered by a matching midriff jacket, and wearing open toed ruffle pleated heels, was inundated with friends and gifts, and never smiled so much in her life. Happiness will do that for you, she thought, as she hugged one more friend coming through the heavy oak door.
Victoria Ann Montgomery, raised in a rural town in Arkansas, grew up always knowing she wanted to marry Aidan. She met Aidan when she was in first grade, and Aidan was in second grade. Aidan lived next door to Vicky and the two became best friends the day they met, inseparable, until Aidan disappeared at age fourteen. She ran away to protect Vicky because Alice had caught them necking in the tree house. Something so innocent and normal, was turned into something perverse by Vicky’s mother, and it escalated into Aidan’s decision to leave in order to put the blame on herself, sparing Vicky from a punishment Alice had threatened her with. Now, fifteen years later, they found each other again, and though it seemed like fate was once again conspiring against them, their bond remained unbreakable.
Vicky was surrounded by friends handing her gifts, kissing her on the cheek, and hugging her tightly. Everyone was talking at once and the room was full of noise and laughter. Suddenly the room fell silent, as three Secret Service Agents, wearing charcoal gray suits and sunglasses, entered the drawing room. One man looked at the other two, and they silently dispersed, one went upstairs while the other went out the back, and the lead agent looked at every face in the room with a keen eye. After a few moments of cautious curiosity, knowing that they were secret service agents, Vicky walked over to the lead agent and asked what was going on. The agent held up a finger as he put his other hand to his ear piece. Then he talked into his wrist microphone, giving the all clear. Less than a minute later, Valarie Trenton walked into the room.
Former First Lady, Valarie Trenton, whose husband, Jackson Trenton, an Arkansas native who was President of the United States for two terms, walked up to Vicky and they hugged like the old friends they were. They became acquaintances during Trenton’s first term in office, when Vicky was his mother’s nurse. Trenton’s mother was a patient at St. Frances after she’d suffered a heart attack. Vicky had just graduated college as a registered nurse, although she was still taking night classes for her master’s degree in healthcare, and was too tired for all the pomp and circumstance. She treated the First Mother as if she were her own, and that included giving orders to the President, something he found endearing, as did Valarie, who appreciated that kind of unpretentious sincerity. Through the years, they kept in touch, talking at socials and fundraisers. Then when Trenton had his own heart attack, a few months ago, Vicky, who was now the CEO of the hospital system, saw to his every need, including that of the First Family.
Vicky gushed, “Oh my, I can’t believe you’re here!”
“I just wanted to pop in and say congratulations. And I’m so sorry we won’t be able to attend the wedding,” Valarie leaned in close to Vicky, so only she would hear her say, “Jack has one of those awful fundraising engagements that he’s dragging me off too.”
“Oh yes, I know about those, and I don’t envy you one bit.” Vicky replied. “But I am glad you stopped by today. Did Joyce put you up to it?”
Valarie laughed, “Yes, in a way. She sent the invitation to me, so I called and chatted with her. Is she here, I’d like to say hello.”
“Lady Valarie,” Joyce walked over to them, “It’s good to see you again. How is your husband doing?” Joyce asked on a professional basis because she was the surgeon Vicky called to operate on Trenton, consequently saving his life.
“He’s a new man, thanks to you.”
“Did he give up those cheeseburgers and fries like I told him to?”
“Yes, although begrudgingly so.”
They talked for a while longer, until Valarie had to leave, and she bid them goodbye. After Valarie and her protective detail left, Joyce brought out the liquor and cranked up the music. It was time to open the gifts and get the party started.
As much fun as she was having, Vicky couldn’t help but wonder what her fiancée was doing. As if on cue, Aidan sent her a text message that had a picture attached to it, showing her with a beer in one hand and a cigar in the other. The text said, wish you were here. Vicky laughed just as Joyce walked up.
“What’s so funny?” Joyce asked, and Vicky showed her the picture. “Can I send a text to Aidan?”
“Of course, help yourself.” Vicky smiled, wondering what Joyce was up to.
Joyce took Vicky’s cellphone and snapped a selfie of her beside Vicky, both acting silly for the photo. Her text read, Be glad you’re not here, apparently her giggling is contagious!
*
Jerry took a deep draw on his cigar, and through his exhaled smoke said, “You know, I thought about hiring a stripper, but it just seemed to, uh, awkward, with your father-in-law sitting here.”
“I am so incredibly thankful that you didn’t, Jerry.” Aidan said, clinching her cigar tighter between her teeth when she sa
w the two aces she had just drawn from the card deck, “This is perfect in so many ways, just being out with the boys.”
Jerry looked at Leonard and winked, and Leonard chuckled knowingly.
Paul nodded his head, “Here-here. But I could use another beer. Anyone else?”
“Just order a pitcher, and we’ll all share.” Leonard suggested.
Aidan looked around the table at her friends. Jerry, her best man and best friend, Leonard, her soon to be father-in-law, Paul, her coconspirator at the hospital, and Dr. Richard Kline, her psychologist, friend and soon to be the officiate at her wedding. This indeed, was her kind of party. She grabbed a handful of pretzels, as she laid her cards on the table.
“Aidan, I would analyze why playing poker with you is bad for my mental health, but then I would have to charge you for my time.” Kline joked as he threw his cards down in discuss.
“Good one, Doc.” Aidan laughed. As she stacked her chips neatly in a row, her phone vibrated and she opened the text Joyce had sent. The picture of her lover and Joyce making goofy faces made her laugh even more.
Suddenly Jerry stood up, and when Aidan followed his gaze, she quickly squashed her cigar in the ashtray, and also stood up. Leonard, Kline and Paul looked at them curiously.
“Stand down you two, we’re not in uniform.” Army Master Sergeant Sherri Rowen held her hands up, and explained, “I don’t mean to interrupt you all, but I saw you sitting here Cassidy, and thought I’d say hello.”
Aidan Marie Cassidy had been a Sergeant (First Class) in the US Army, up until she was honorably discharge last year, suffering from amnesia. While stationed in Texas, she had had a few run-ins with the Master Sergeant, and the sight of her now, brought those memories back to the surface. Those memories however, were not ones she was proud of, and she would just as soon be happy to forget them again.
Remember This Day Page 1
