Blue Moon Enchantment (Once In A Blue Moon Series)

by Jeanne Van Arsdall

  “Drew?”

  “Yeppers.” Lola nodded, somehow keeping the cone hat firmly over her grey-black hair. “You can have him if you want.”

  “How?”

  “That is the question, isn’t it?” Lola resumed her seat and rested her hands on her knees. Somehow the cigarette and its holder had disappeared. “You have to take a leap of faith, but I reckon you’ll find it’s worth it.”

  “Leap of faith?”

  “If you choose to make that wish again, you’ll be returned to the past, to a time when you had the chance to change the course of your history, to keep the man you love.”

  “What’s the catch?” Marcella had been part of too many plea-bargain sessions to know people didn’t give away anything unless they got something in return.

  “You have to give up all this.” She gestured broadly at the enormous penthouse. “Your fancy foreign car and your designer clothes. Your high dollar career. Everything you now know. Even your shoes.” Lola glanced down at Marcella’s bare feet. “Guess that won’t be a problem for you.” She cackled, which set off another coughing spell.

  “I see.” Marcella swallowed hard and nodded.

  “Is he worth it?”

  The Drew that Marcella once knew was more than worth it. But now, with so much time gone by? What a risk!

  “Is he worth it?” Lola repeated.

  The grandfather clock ticked one minute away, then another...then finally Marcella told the little gnome lady, “I won’t know unless I try, will I?”

  “Hot damn!” Lola jumped up. “Now we got ourselves a party!”

  She spread her stubby legs and with both hands made a swirling, circular motion at the window. A ball of light, bright as any fire, flooded the room, and suddenly a hole opened where the window once was.

  “Walk through, lovey. Confront your past...design your future. It’s not often I’m able to give a person a second chance, but you got lucky.”

  Marcella walked slowly toward the hole. As she got closer, she craned her neck, looking ahead, but saw nothing save the street below, and knew she was crazy, totally out of her mind, to be doing this. But she squared her shoulders and took the leap, the adrenaline rushing through her veins propelled her forward, and suddenly there was nothing, but a black abyss...

  ***

  March, 1998

  Marcella awoke with a start. She sat up and brushed her long dark hair from her face and gazed, wide-eyed, around the room. Dawn’s pale, pink light filtered in through the half-drawn curtains, barely illuminating the tiny apartment bedroom she’d been sharing with Drew for the last year. A dream! She had to have been dreaming. She fell back against the pillows with a sigh. But man, what a dream! Successfully practicing law, living in a ritzy Chicago penthouse, being visited by a little person in pointy shoes and a purple, cone-shaped hat...and no Drew.

  Marcella yawned and stretched, snuggling back down beneath the covers. She closed her eyes, sleepily remembering and rehashing the details of her last murder case. The defendant, her client, never admitted to murdering his ex-wife, but Marcella sensed he was guilty. Still, thanks to her excellent trial skills and a broken-down air-conditioning unit, the man had walked. Marcella bolted upright again, suddenly wide awake.

  Her last murder case! But, she hadn’t even graduated college yet! How could she remember something that hadn’t even happened?

  “Oh, my God, it wasn’t a dream.” Somehow, someway, she’d traveled back in time.

  “What wasn’t a dream?”

  Marcella turned, her jaw dropping. Drew stood in the doorway, the light from their tiny kitchenette illuminating his tall, leanly muscled body. He smiled and moved farther into the room.

  “Uh, nothing. Good-morning.” Marcella snapped her mouth closed and returned Drew’s smile. “What are you doing up so early?”

  “I have a class.” He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned in, placing a light kiss on her nose.

  “Then why aren’t you gone? Sun’s up, it’s gotta be after six.”

  “My car won’t start. The way I see it,” Drew said, gathering her into his arms and nuzzling her neck, “we have two choices. Either you can get up and take me to class, or I can come back to bed and we can make love until your ten o’clock.”

  Marcella took a deep breath, drinking in Drew’s freshly showered scent. “I don’t have a ten o’clock.”

  “Mmm, all the better. I can come back to bed and we can make love until noon.”

  Drew pulled her down on the bed, rolling until she lay pinned beneath him. He cupped her face and kissed her, slow and deep.

  Marcella pulled back with a sigh, draping her arms around his neck. She gazed into his eyes. “I’m afraid you’re going to miss your class.”

  “Good.” He moved off the bed and quickly undressed, leaving his clothing scattered on the floor.

  Marcella watched him, her heart pounding. Eight long years. She hadn’t made love in nearly a decade. And, knowing how splendid it would be–remembering his gentle skill and tenderness–only served to heighten Marcella’s desire and anticipation.

  Drew climbed onto the bed, slid beneath the covers and drew her into his arms.

  “Mmm, you smell good,” she said, breathing in the warm, slightly spicy smell of his cologne. “Good enough to eat.”

  Drew grinned and rubbed his hips against her suggestively. “Yeah? That sounds like a proposition, baby.”

  “Not a proposition, a promise.” Marcella laughed and ducked down beneath the blankets.

  “God, Marcy! That feels amazing.” Drew reached down and stroked her hair.

  Marcella continued her torment of him, until her own desires grew unbearable, and the air beneath the blankets grew too warm. She released him and shimmied up, capturing Drew’s mouth with her own. She kissed him with all the pent-up passion she’d carried with her through time, telling him with her tongue and lips and body how much she’d missed him these past eight years and how sorry she was for leaving him behind.

  Without breaking their kiss, Drew rolled on top of her, positioning himself between her outstretched thighs. He sank into her slowly, sliding deep inside, filling her completely. Marcella whimpered softly and lifted her hips, wrapping her legs around his waist and drawing him closer.

  With infinite tenderness, Drew moved, withdrawing and then sliding back in. Slowly, passionately, he made love to her. Marcella’s heart overflowed with love for him, with joy at being reunited with him, and her eyes filled with tears as she was swept away. Drew joined her, riding the wave and holding her close.

  “Why are you crying, baby?” Drew asked moments later. He wiped a tear from her cheek, then kissed the wet spot left behind.

  “Because I’m so happy,” she said, offering him a watery smile. “And because I love you so much.”

  “Women,” he said, but his crooked grin belied his teasing tone. “You always cry over the silliest things.”

  “We do, don’t we?” Marcella nodded. “Good thing we have you big, strong men around to keep us grounded.”

  Drew laughed. “I love you too, Marcy. For always and forever.”

  “Careful, or you’re going to get me going again,” Marcella said, sniffling at his romantic words.

  “Oh, I’m going to get you going again, all right.” He cupped her breast, running his thumb over her hard, sensitive nipple. “You can bet on it.”

  ***

  Three weeks later, on the first day of spring break, Marcella joined Drew for a drive to the beach. She’d spent the whole morning remembering how this day had concluded the last time... the choice she’d made, the heartbreak she’d endured when she’d walked away, leaving him there and knowing they’d go their separate ways. This time, she’d make the right decision. This time, she’d put aside her high ambitions and figure out a way to keep him in her life, no matter what it took. She’d trust him with her life, with her future.

  As they walked down the rocky hillside to the white sandy beach, Marcella held he
r breath, knowing the moment was near and anticipating the next few moments and the chance to make things right.

  “Marcy, we need to talk.” Drew dropped the cooler he was carrying onto the sand, freeing his hands to place them on her waist.

  “I know,” she said, her voice thick. “I’ve been waiting for you to say something.”

  “You have?” He cocked his head.

  “Yes, I have.” Marcy nodded. “We have some major decisions to make, Drew. I have only a couple weeks to let the law schools know. They’ve been holding a spot for me for quite awhile.”

  “Yeah, I know.” He shifted, taking her face in his hands. “Listen, I can’t tell you how proud I am of you for making it into Harvard and Stanford! My God! My girlfriend is brilliant!” He kissed her softly. “I feel guilty asking you to stick it out in Illinois with me, but I can’t go with you. I don’t wanna move to the coast, I’m a Midwest guy. I would feel like a foreigner out there. I want you to stay here with me.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “I don’t want us to split up, and maintaining a long-distance relationship would be impossible. I know…”

  “Drew, shut up.” She leaned forward and kissed him hard on the lips, and they tumbled to the sand. This was the point that they fell apart the first time, when she let her selfishness and self-centeredness get in the way. Not this time. No way. Life without Drew hadn’t been much of a life at all. “I’ve decided to go wherever you are. Find a closer law school...”

  “You have?” Drew’s mouth hung open, but then his astonished look slowly turned into a wide, happy grin. “You have? Damn, Marcy, why didn’t you tell me? I’ve been worrying about this for weeks. God, I’m so glad. You won’t be sorry, I promise. We’ll make sure you get a great education, even if I have to get a second job to support us for a while. We’ll figure something out, and...”

  “Drew, what part of ‘shut up’ do you not understand?” Marcy softened her words with a grin. “I trust you, and I know if we’re together, we’ll be fine. Now kiss me again, you fool, and then get me a beer.” She pulled him up against her. “This is our last spring break!”

  ***

  “All done,” Drew whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

  Marcy looked his way and smiled. When he leaned over and kissed her, she felt butterflies in her stomach. Three years together and she still had the same reaction every time he touched her. Even in a classroom, with two hundred other seniors, taking the last final of their undergraduate career, he still managed to excite her. Every time he touched her, the rest of the world slipped away, and she’d find herself in all sorts of embarrassing positions. Like when they got caught making out on the beach two months earlier during spring break in Cancun.

  As she followed his trip to the front of the room to hand in the blue book, she wondered, not for the first time, if she’d made the right decision. He was just a guy wasn’t he? She could find another man. But no. She’d gone that route, and knowing what she did about the future, she doubted she would ever find a man that made her feel complete in the way Drew did.

  They were headed to Northwestern University in the fall. Not the Harvard she’d really wanted, but still a terrific school. She’d still have her law degree, and he’d get his master’s in journalism. If all went well, they would settle outside of Chicago, have two, point five children, she’d drive a mini-van and their weekends would be occupied with soccer tournaments.

  A far cry from her single life.

  She smiled and winked at him as he passed her to leave the classroom. Back to the exam at hand, if she could let her mind settle long enough to finish the essay.

  ***

  “What are you doing?” Drew was standing in the doorway of their small one bedroom apartment, gawking at Marcy.

  “What do you mean, what am I doing?” She straightened up from the open suitcase and walked toward him. “We’re moving tomorrow, I was putting the last of our stuff in the suitcase.”

  “I mean, you were supposed to be dressed and ready to go to Vaco’s.” He glanced at his watch for emphasis. “Our reservation is in ten minutes.”

  It was then that Marcy noticed Drew was wearing a tie. He never wore a tie. She frowned at him. “Okay, so, I’ll get dressed.”

  “Wait.” He grabbed her arm as she brushed passed him. “I’m sorry. No biggie if we’re a little late.” He smiled and kissed her neck, and she left the room, hoping the outfit she planned to wear wasn’t so wrinkled from being packed that she’d have to iron it. She hated to iron.

  In four days she was to start law school. Again. Would it be as difficult the second time around as it had been the first? She hoped she remembered enough to get by without studying too much. She and Drew would both have to work part-time jobs to support themselves. What had she gotten herself into?

  In the small bathroom, she donned a spaghetti-strapped tank top and fastened the tie on her long, chiffon, wrap-around pink and maroon skirt. A dab of make-up on her flawless, young face, and a comb through her hair, and she was ready to go. Now, where were her sandals?

  She left the bathroom and bumped right into Drew. “Good thing the apartment in Evanston is bigger.” He laughed. From behind his back, he produced a bouquet of red roses. “These are for you.”

  “They’re beautiful! Thank you.” She took them, holding them to her nose to breathe in their fresh scent. “What are they for?”

  “Just because I love you, Marcy.” He pulled her against him. “We’ve both been stressed about the move and starting a new school. But you’ll see, it’ll work out.”

  She started to cry again. Tears of happiness–Drew was all she could have hoped for and more.

  “No tears, baby.” He held her close, stroking her back, making her love him even more.

  They left a few minutes later. Vaco’s had terrific food, and it overlooked a huge lake. Drew had reserved their favorite table, the one with the best view. By the time the dessert came, Marcella was laughing, as Drew told a story about a reporter at the paper he’d worked at that summer. Marcella had clerked in a law office. The head partner had been impressed with how fast and how well she understood the intricacies of cases. She might have lost her Jaguar, but she’d not lost her knowledge of the law.

  “So, anyway, I wanted to show you that last article I wrote for the newspaper.”

  He pulled the newspaper out from under the table somewhere and handed it to her.

  “Where is it?”

  “Front page.” He took another sip of his beer. “Bottom.”

  “Summer Intern Decides To Marry His True Love,” she read the headline.

  She looked up, a mixture of awe and thrill making her feel numb, like jelly.

  She looked back down, and continued to read:

  She was the girl of my dreams the minute I laid eyes on her in my one and only Political Science class. She always had a clue, when I had none. She’s beautiful, real and true, and gave up attending an Ivy League Law School to be with this schmuck of a guy who can’t even fix a flat tire (she can do that too, by the way). The only question left as I finish my last article at the newspaper is, Marcy, baby, will you marry me?

  ***

  June, 2006

  Marcella’s head flopped to the right and jolted her awake.

  She looked around the spacious penthouse. What the...? How had she ended up back here? She looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the Chicago skyline, confused, and then forlorn as she realized the truth. Nothing but a dream. No Lola Lewinsky. No second chances. No Drew.

  Through tear-filled eyes, she continued to stare out the windows, noting the glittering lights…the single yellow moon. Her heart ached with the loss, and disappointment left a bitter taste in her mouth. She should have recognized it for a dream, should have realized–even in sleep–that it couldn’t be real. A gnomette for heaven’s sake!

  Stiffness settled on her spine, and when she tried to get off the plush chair, she found herself struggling to get upright. She grabbed the
arms of the chair and pulled herself up, and when she bent over to work out the kink, she realized she couldn’t. In place of her flat stomach was a thick rounded bulge, protruding so far she couldn’t even see her toes, much less touch them.

  Marcella screamed.

  She was pregnant, and couldn’t even remember how it had happened. She wracked her mind, feeling like the top of her head was about to explode. What the hell was happening to her?

  Had Lola the gnomette let her get pregnant and then sent Marcella back to the future? How unfair.

  She plopped back onto the chair.

  “Marcy?”

  She whipped her head to the right, and saw Drew. He was here! In her penthouse! How had that happened? But it wasn’t a young immature Drew; lines crinkled at the edges of his eyes, and he’d filled out his tall form.

  Suddenly all the memories of the past eight years came back to her. She had lived through them again, been given a second chance. At love...with Drew.

  “Are you all right, sweetheart? I heard you scream...”

  “I’m fine.” She squeezed the hand he gave her, and smiled like her very life depended upon it. “Everything is fine now.”

  “Andy and Katie are sleeping, so no more practicing labor noises, okay?” He gave her an odd look and then kissed her cheek. “Do you need anything? I’ve gotta get that story about the Michigan Avenue renovations ready for print. It’s the feature in the Trib Sunday.” She glanced over her shoulder as he returned to their shared home-office.

  They had made it. Andy and Katie were their two small children. She closed her eyes, blocking the tears that raw emotions and overactive hormones were creating. Marcy’s leap of faith had made all the difference. One small decision had changed the course of their lives. Harvard and Stanford had wanted her, but Drew and the University of Chicago had gotten her instead. The memories all hit her again–from her eight years without Drew, and now the last eight years with him. Two point five kids, same penthouse in Chicago, two fancy cars. And love. Most importantly love.