The Vicarage Bench Anthology

by Barbour, Mimi

  The doc cleared his throat. “Actually, he’s still a pup, not more than a year or two old. He’s been through a rather hideous past. I’ve noticed old scars on him. Looks as if someone took a stick to him, and more than once.”

  The doctor gathered up his paraphernalia, intending to leave the room, but he stopped in the doorway with his parting shot. “I’m surprised he came near a man at all.” He shook his head, his expression sad, then sauntered out.

  “The poor baby. I hate that humans can be this cruel, Ash. I’ve seen it so often, but it still tears at my heart.”

  Her despair washed over his senses. Thankful that she appeared to have forgiven him, he made a promise then and there to always respect her connection to the creature world.

  She’d opened the floodgates, willing to share her fundamentally loving nature, and he’d never experienced anything like it before. With uncanny insight he began to understand the essence of the woman inside him. She was goodness—clean and shiny-bright—so bright that every living thing sensed the miracle God had sent specially for them.

  Love for her sucked out other emotions, leaving him focused on one thought only: he adored her, and as he accepted it, so did she. Reciprocated love filled all the pores and cells throughout his body.

  “I love you, Crystal. I adore you. And you love me. You can’t hide it. I feel the heat of it burning inside me.”

  “I don’t want to be in love. I don’t want to need anyone. In my whole life, I’ve never been able to trust people as I do my animal friends. My mother only stuck around long enough to name me. Then she took off and left me to look after three lowlife brothers and a selfish father. They never cared, either, except for the comfort I could provide for them. Once I left home, I swore I’d never place myself in a subservient position to any man ever again.” She fought to suppress her earlier sweet feelings.

  “It’ll be different with me. You can trust me, my love.”

  “How can I trust you when you don’t trust me?”

  “What are you saying? Of course I do.” His soothing inner voice switched from tender to out loud and indignant.

  “You’ve proven otherwise. If you had faith in me, you wouldn’t be letting me hide like a coward inside you. You’d let me stand next to you, so that I could protect you at the same time as you protect me. I’ve never wanted to be the little woman depending on a big strong man—it’s not the way I want to live my life. If I can’t be equal as a full partner, then I’d rather be alone.”

  Although his mouth filled with denying words, his mind filtered them and stopped their utterances. This thought transference played tricks. He sifted her words through his consciousness first and realized she asked no more of him than he would demand for himself.

  She asked him to respect her worthiness and to trust her in exactly the same way he demanded that she—no, forced her to—trust him. By tricking her with the rose thorn, he’d belittled her dignity, her independence, even her ability to handle Arnie, whom she’d already taken on unflinchingly. And while defending him.

  “Sweetheart, I’m truly sorry. I promise in the morning we’ll undo the spell. I’ve never been made to put myself in someone else’s place so strongly before. It’s been a huge, enlightening lesson. You may have to keep reminding me from time to time. My mother and sister trained me to believe that women are weak, needing to be pampered and babied, but I’m learning. I won’t try controlling you in the future; I’ll just love you.”

  “Just when I want to smack you silly, you prove me wrong about men. I guess some are worthy of respect and love. You are. And you’re the only one I’ve ever met who can make me dizzy just from being in the same room.”

  That night burned in Ashley’s memory for all time. The fervor inside, pools of lust and wanting, retreated for a time, overcome by waves of tenderness and sharing. His Crystal doll revealed stories of her life while he regaled her with tales from his childhood. He talked about the times his big brother Rhett had bailed him out of one scrape after another, and how he’d even taken on their mother at her worst, to protect Ash from her wicked fists.

  Crystal admitted to losing all faith in men because of the behaviour of the males in her family, how they’d used her from the time she was old enough to take on the household chores. She shared her experiences of arriving in Vegas and soon after finding herself on the stage she’d designed, performing in front of the masses, something she’d never done before in her life but loved. They talked and talked, learning about each other, enjoying each new facet.

  The pale morning sun peeked through the sheer curtains as Ashley finally fell into an exhausted doze. She woke him a few hours later with her husky voice reminding him of his promise and the trip he needed to make to the hospital to gather a body. They had a date with the vicarage bench.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Joey. You know what? I like living inside you. I especially like it when you look in the mirror and I see your face instead of mine. I’ve always hated my face.”

  Arnie grated on Joey’s nerves more each hour they were superimposed. He never let up. His mind jabbered all the time, mostly pleading with Joey to have a cigarette. Arnie’s chain-smoking habit had disgusted Joey, who’d had his mind made up at an early age to abstain. He knew exactly when he’d made the commitment to clean lungs. The day his mom caught him, an eleven-year-old with a fag in his mouth, and had made him inhale cigarette after cigarette until he’d hurled. Man, he’d been sick.

  As an effective treatment, it ranked high—as a blue ribbon contender for mother of the year, maybe not. Dr. Spock be damned, she’d done to him what her mother had done to her. Curing him of the want to follow his peers worked out for him as a child, but he still had to live with the disgusting smell around him all the time as an adult. The casino reeked day and night. There he had no say, but in the privacy of his own place no one had his permission to smoke. Well, almost no one.

  “Arnie. Did you ever once see me with a cigarette in my mouth, eh? Nope, you didn’t. Therefore, why the hell would you think I’d change my habits for you? It ain’t gonna happen, so lay off.”

  “Okay, sorry, Joey. Don’t get so cheesed off. You’re tighter than a virgin inside here, and I’m just trying to calm you, loosen you up a bit. Know what I mean?”

  “Arnie, I’ll relax when you’re back in your own body. You’re driving me bonkers with your non-stop blabbing.”

  “I’ll shut up if you do me a favor. One small easy favor. Go and shoot that Parks bastard. It’s his fault we’re in England, in this crazy place. He should pay, Joey. As long as he’s walking around, I can’t relax. He’s probably the one who put this stupid curse on us. See, I figure after you shoot him, we’ll revert back to normal. That’s what I think.”

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think, and I can’t wait to get you outta me. I’m not shooting anyone, so shut up about it. The only thing I’m gonna do is go back to the hospital and see what the hell those white-coated quacks are doing to get you to wake up from the coma.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to wake up. Did you ever think of that? I like living with you—as you.”

  Joey sensed a switch had been turned in his mind. As if he’d lost all control for a few seconds. Fear welled up.

  “What the hell…?”

  “Dig this, Joey—I’m stronger than you are. If I really tried, I could make you do what I want. You’d better stop being such a jerk to me, or I could take over, and where would that leave you, smartass?”

  “I’d commit myself first, Arnie, so don’t threaten me. Don’t ever threaten me again.”

  “You’re right, Joey. I’m an ingrate. My mom used to call me that all the time, just before she’d take out the whip. I never did learn not to push buttons. Don’t be mad at me. I’m just worried and talking stupid. You know, being with you, sharing your body, lets me see for the first time in my life how everyone acts with a guy who’s good-looking. Younger chicks flirt, and even the older broads smile. No o
ne gets scared when they see us coming. I get a real kick outta that.”

  Joey sensed the honesty in Arnie’s words and couldn’t help feeling sad for the man who’d lived all his life in such despair. His own early years held great memories of a neighborhood full of characters, all pals of his.

  Joey didn’t want to soften his stance, but listening to words was one thing, and having intimate knowledge of the feelings that those words evoked was totally another. Arnie had lived a cheerless, brutal life. Joey melted—he couldn’t help it. His psycho roommate sensed it and played on it for all it was worth.

  “My ole man didn’t much like me, and my ole lady—she hated me. You know what that’s like? I never looked good, it’s true, but there’s an old saying, you have a face only a mother could love? Well my face never did a thing for her except make her mad. But at least I never scared kids. Now they run screaming. You get how that feels?”

  “I do now, Arnie, and stop blubbering. I can’t see.”

  “Let’s go look in the mirror.”

  “No! Not again.”

  “Do it! Or you’ll be sorry!”

  “Aw, Arnie, I’m fed up with looking at my face, and seeing you leering from my eyes. And quit being so pushy.”

  “Sorry. Don’tcha wish I could stay here with you forever?”

  “God forbid!”

  “I like looking at our face.”

  “Yeah? I’m glad you’re getting a kick outta it. Just stop telling me to go to every mirror we pass. I’m sick and tired of combing my hair all the time.”

  “Okay, Joey.

  Chapter Fourteen

  True to his word, Ashley arrived at the hospital the next morning, waving a release form signed by Dr. Andrews with instructions to pick up Crystal’s body. While he helped the nurse on duty to get her ready for the wheelchair, his hands teasingly took liberties.

  “Shame on you. Stop feeling me up, or the nurse will see you.”

  “I told her you were my wife, remember. And I’m not feeling you up, as you so indelicately put it. I’m dressing you, and honey, it isn’t easy putting clothes on a flopping doll. I can’t help it if my hands slip now and again.”

  “Did your mouth slip, too? You’ve been kissing me in some pretty improper places.”

  “You’re just in a snit because you can’t feel anything, but don’t let it bother you. I promise, when we get home I’ll re-kiss all those improper places until you beg me to stop.”

  “Then you’d better have Chapstick. I can’t wait to be in your arms again, and to have your mouth on my body.”

  A rush of passion streamed through his system, which made him double over. Urges of lust and visions of satisfaction had him closing his eyes.

  “You’d better stop that trash talk or the nurse will have a graphic indication of where my thoughts are right this minute.” He pulled at his sweater, bringing it over his hips, while he leaned over her and fiddled with nothing.

  “Hurry, love. I want to get back into myself and find some privacy. Quit dawdling.”

  The nurse, who’d been eyeballing this handsome man, dredged through her mind for an interesting topic of conversation.

  “Mr. Parks, are you aware your wife’s symptoms stymied all the local specialists? It’s become the talk of the hospital, and especially now that we’ve had a second comparable case.”

  Ash stopped dead and swiftly turned to the woman in white. “You have another patient with similar problems to Crystal’s?”

  Supposing his interest in this news to be on behalf of the woman now resting in the wheelchair, she gently explained. “Yes! A man who suffered the same symptoms as your wife arrived a couple of days ago. They weren’t able to help him, either. Now it’s too late. We lost him yesterday.”

  “Lost him. You mean he died? From being in a coma?” Ash’s head swung towards the woman as his voice rose, and she had his full attention.

  “No, from a heart attack. Poor man. His face appeared to have been battered recently. He suffered from poor general health, untreated diabetes, and the autopsy showed his lungs were weakened and black from excessive smoking. He was an American, also. We were planning on calling in Dr. Andrews to consult on the case, but it became apparent rather quickly that he wouldn’t be much use.”

  Shock blasted Ash, but Crystal’s reaction to this news shot way past normal. She shut down. Her simmering anger warned of a pending eruption.

  Coward or not, Ash said nothing, keeping his thoughts locked away. He waited, and finally she broke an hour later, while they were on the bench preparing to reverse the spell.

  “Wait! Ashley Parks, you need to answer my question before we go any further. When you agreed to let me free, did you realize Arnie had already died?”

  “No. I did not.”

  “That’s it? That’s all you have to say for yourself?”

  He’d blocked all his emotions behind a solid wall while at the hospital, and so far he hadn’t let her in. He’d known she wanted the inside scoop, so to speak, the truth without having to ask.

  “We promised last night to trust each other.” Sincerity rang in his words.

  A few seconds passed before he heard her response, seconds of agony while he yearned for her to believe in him and their love. This was a big test. He clasped his hands as though in prayer, holding them against his lips to stop words from spewing out.

  “I’m glad! I had to ask, but I’m so relieved you didn’t know.”

  “You accept my word? Just like that?”

  “Uh-huh! Of course I do.”

  Channels opened and the purest joy bounced back and forth between the two. Heart thundering, he carefully pricked his finger and then hers while hugging her close in trembling arms. He felt faint with anxiety. Remembering the resulting pain when the spell hadn’t worked during an earlier episode between Rhett and Carrie, he pleaded, “Please, God, let it work!” in whispers muttered low.

  In the time it took to put the rose back down on the bench next to him, she twitched. Gradually her lax face muscles took on life. Her eyelids were slow to open, but as they did, he stared into her slumberous eyes tinted by slivers of silver. He unashamedly let her see the tears gathered in his.

  “Hello, sweetheart.” His voice broke, sounding husky.

  “Hi, Ash!” The croak of his name on her lips frayed his restraint as he swept her closer and kissed her like he’d never get enough of her taste.

  She almost fainted again, hammered from the fury of his passion. Feebly she pushed at his chest. Her slack lips and lack of breath warned him to control himself, at least for now.

  She needed time to gain back her strength. Her head used his shoulder as a pillow, and both hands lay enfolded in his, unmoving. Sitting snuggled, enjoying the luxury of being physically together, removed any lingering doubts that the desire flowing between them was artificial or brought about because of their spirit’s recent proximity. Eventually, she sighed and moved to sit up.

  “No, don’t move.” He picked her up in his arms and carried her to the waiting car. Recovering the wheelchair and placing it in the boot took only seconds, and a few minutes later they were at the doctor’s house.

  With ease, he delivered her into their room and lowered her onto the bed next to a present enclosed in pink tissue paper and a silver bow. A special something he’d picked out for her. He stood patiently while she oohed and ahhed over her spanking new bat.

  “How did you get it without me catching on?”

  “I wrote a note to the doctor and asked him to pick it up for me.”

  “It’s perfect. I love it—and you.” Smiles fought with tears, but the tears won.

  “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I wanted to make you laugh.” The change in Ashley’s demeanor from jovial to remorseful was as swift as a camera’s flash.

  “You silly man. I’m weepy because you really do understand me. I never thought I could be this fortunate. Come here and let me show you just how happy I am.” She scrubbed at the tears drippi
ng from her plush lashes. Her large smoky eyes drew him to her, inviting, enticing—knowing.

  “No! I can’t!” His hands were actually clasped behind his back. “You brat. Stop tempting me. You need to rest. I’ll go and tell Dr. Andrews everything went as expected. He wanted to be advised as soon as we arrived. I think he’s smitten, like all the other men in your life.”

  “Except for poor Arnie?”

  “Yeah, well, he’s not our worry anymore. Life can get back to normal now. Sleep! I’ll come back to sit with you.” He carefully threw a comforter over her but hesitated before tucking it close.

  She grinned and winked.

  “Little witch!”

  As soon as he opened the door her brown-and-white mongrel pet shot through. Whining and wiggling, he sniffed at the girl while she cooed over him. He leapt up and settled on the quilt as close to her as he could manage. Her personal bodyguard’s bloodshot eyes lovingly surveyed her and seemed satisfied.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tension vibrated throughout Ash’s body as Crystal wrapped her arms around his neck and tried to pull him on top of her.

  “Why are you being so stubborn? I want to feel your body over mine.” She’d coaxed him close with her wiggling finger, insisting he lean over, and had caught him neatly in her diabolical trap. A tigress in heat chagrined by his gentleman’s principles.

  “Crystal, my love. Stop! You’re not recovered yet. You’re weak. We should wait until you’re fit.” He groaned the last few words with his forehead against hers. “You know I’m a puddle when it comes to you. You’ll have your way with me if you push, but I need to be sensible. You have to help me be strong.”

  “Help you? You ninny. I’m trying to seduce you here. I don’t want you to be strong. I want you to undress me, kiss me everywhere your lips can reach, and take as long as you wish. Then I want you to put your…”