I Remember You

by Mairsile Leabhair

  “Roger that. Well, I’m sure the authorities are checking them both out, but I’m still going to keep my eye on them, just the same.”

  ***

  Two days later, on a beautiful, spring like day, the lovers drove to the outskirts of the city, where the skyscrapers gave way to the oak trees. They parked at a longstanding church cemetery, full of old tombstones and fresh flowers. Vicky and Aidan made their way to a small section, on the south side of the cemetery, where a statue of a cherub guided them through a gate, and into a small section, with miniature headstones and plaques. Small plush toys, kept watch over tiny graves, lined neatly in a row. Vicky and Aidan looked at every marker, until Vicky let out a gasp, and pointed down at one. The headstone read, Aidan L. Montgomery. With trembling hands, she placed a bouquet of silk baby’s breath with violets, at the head of the marker. Aidan set a large soft lamb beside the flowers, and balanced it so the toy’s feet touched the baby’s name on the marker. They both stood up together, and Vicky collapsed in Aidan’s arms, and sobbed. Aidan held her close, caressed her, comforted her, until she was strong enough to wipe her tears away. They stood there for a long moment, just staring at the tiny grave.

  “Are you okay, Vicky?”

  Vicky nodded her head. She took Aidan’s hand and together they walked back to the car.

  “It’s really nice that the hospital does this for the grieving parents.” Aidan said, as they drove away.

  The hospital and the cemetery, provides burial services for the infants, including a casket, a plot and marker, and a service with a priest, who blesses the funerals. Vicky opted not to have a service, because she feared it would be tainted by the politics. Instead, she just sought a minute alone to say goodbye, and the only person she wanted with her, was the baby’s namesake, Aidan.

  ***

  Two weeks later, Vicky found herself in front of the corporate board in St. Louis. “But I can’t possibly turn it around that fast! I just need more time. It’s only been two weeks.”

  Vicky had uncharacteristically, lost her control in front of the corporate board, something she would normally never allow. But this time, her passion got the best of her. For the last fourteen days, she had worked sixteen, eighteen, sometimes twenty‒four hours a day, trying to get the daily operation of her hospital back to normal. She personally, visited all the local businesses, to assure them that St. Frances was a safe place for their employees, and their families. But the news media played up the mole theory, and the patients stayed away in droves. To make things worse, only thirty‒five percent of the patients that had been evacuated, transferred back to the hospital. St. Frances was tittering on the precipice, and foreclosure looked imminent for the flagship of a once booming health system.

  Aidan could only lend support to her lover, because there was no convincing Vicky to slow down and rest. If Vicky was at the hospital, she was by her side. She made sure Vicky ate, and had her wound tended to, and on more than one occasion, put her to bed when she fell asleep on her feet. They took up residence in one of the solarium suites, where Aidan brought in Vicky’s work clothes, and anything else she might need, from the house. It was putting a worrisome strain on their relationship. Aidan was greatly concerned that Vicky was working far too hard, for someone with a gunshot wound to the heart.

  It was Joyce, who was receiving daily reports from Vicky, including tests results and vitals, that finally insisted Vicky needed to slowdown. Aidan knew she would have worked herself back into that sickbed, if Joyce had not intervened. Only after Joyce assured Aidan that Vicky was fine, did she relinquish her frustration, and concentrate on other things.

  When she wasn’t caring for her lover, Aidan was working with the FBI on the investigation. She learned a lot, watching how they did things, impressed with how every detail, no matter how insignificant it might appear, was important. She knew she was getting an education that most people had to pay for.

  By week two, with Vicky spending every waking moment working on the problems the hospital was facing, and Aidan committed to her involvement with the FBI, there was no time left to work on their commitment to each other.

  And on this day, in front of the board, Vicky was in the most desperate fight of her life. She was fighting to save something she loved. Something she thought was getting an unfair reputation, and could not fight for its self. To Vicky, St. Frances wasn’t just a building, it was a way of life for so many employees, and a sanctuary to the sick. And if it meant fighting the corporate board to save her hospital, then she would do it.

  “Vicky, please understand, we don’t want to close the hospital either. But too much has happened, and now there’s too much to overcome.” Ginnie Mayflower, Chairwoman of the Corporate board, was being as placid as she could, under the circumstances. “The public thinks a terrorist still roams the hallways. Right now, you couldn’t pay them to be a patient there.”

  “You have to give me time to change their minds. Homeland Security tells me they’re very close to catching the mole, as they call him, and when they do, I’ll make sure the news media knows it. I’ll take out ads, and make commercials saying how safe St. Frances is. Heck, I’ll even shout it from the highest rooftop, if I have too.”

  Mayflower shook her head, still not convinced. The others around the table talked among themselves, but Vicky could tell she was losing their confidence, and she wasn’t sure what to do. Finally, after a long pause, the co‒chair, Steve Lang, voiced his view.

  “Madame Chair, in my opinion, we are grossly over accelerating the situation. As she said, it’s only been two weeks. The fact is, Ms. Montgomery is very popular in Little Rock, and what she and her co-worker did for this country is very positive, and as bad as it may sound, very marketable.”

  Vicky looked at him with gratitude, and mistrust. Where’s he going with that?

  “Plus, her book hits the stands today. I’ve read the book and it’s very uplifting. We need to give her more time. Say three months, and if things don’t turn around by then, we can revisit the situation.”

  Mayflower contemplated for a moment, then looked at the rest, “Okay, let’s take a vote. All those in favor of three more months, raise your hand and say Aye.” All hands, including Mayflower’s, went up, and all voices said aye.

  “Very well then, the ayes have it, but I have some stipulations. Vicky, you need to do some personal interviews with national news, or talk shows like Maggie O’Hare, if you can get on her show. Whatever helps to get you out there in front of the public. Our marketing team will set those up for you. Also, do some local commercials, with you talking to the public. Can your marketing department handle that?” Vicky nodded, and Mayflower continued, “Great, I think some one-on-one commercials with Vicky, and then some image commercials of her and the other one that was shot‒‒”

  “Absolutely not. I’ll agree to everything else, Madame Chair, but leave Aidan out of this. She is not for sale.”

  She stared her down, until Mayflower finally laid it out on the table, “Vicky, if I may be blunt?”

  Okay, here it comes, she thought, as she nodded her head.

  “We’re going to let you try to save the hospital, in spite of the fact that you are a lesbian, who was pregnant out of wedlock. And you have a terrorist running around the halls of your hospital‒‒”

  That’s all it took, her resolve was instantly deflated. She needed to find her strength again. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back,” she said hastily, and raced out the door. Though it was unheard of for Vicky to be so dramatic, she was at the end of her rope, and the only lifeline she had left was Aidan. She ran out the door to the sounds of surprised gasps from the board.

  “Aidan!” She rushed into the waiting area down the hall. Aidan heard her, and jumped up.

  “What’s wrong, Vick?” Vicky ran into her lover’s arms and Aidan wrapped her long arms around her, holding her close, “Baby, what’s wrong?”

  She took a step back and began, “Aidan, they want you and me to do
a commercial about what heroes we are, or they’re going to pull the pregnant card.”

  “Those bastards.”

  “What should I do?”

  Without hesitation, Aidan replied, “Let’s do it, kid.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes Vicky, I’m sure. You love that hospital and your employees. I won’t stand by and let them take that away from you.”

  She looked up into Aidan’s defiant green eyes, and realized that she was only saying that for her sake. Deep down, she knew Aidan would do what she thought Vicky wanted, but she also knew she couldn’t let Aidan do that for her.

  “Come with me,” the fire was back in her belly. She’d found her strength. She grabbed Aidan’s hand and practically dragged her down the hallway.

  “Okay, everyone,” she barked as she charged through the door, shocking them into silence, “This is Aidan Cassidy. Aidan is the one who saved President Trenton from an assassination attempt in my hospital, and her fellow soldiers on the battlefield in Iraq. She is going to be presented with the two most prestigious awards in the nation soon, and she is my lover. I will not, under any circumstances, cheapen what she did for our country, by parading her around as our mascot. Fire me, close my hospital, I don’t care, I won’t allow it.”

  Aidan’s heart skipped a beat, as her eyes lit up with hunger, Damn, I am so turned on by her right now.

  “And just so everything is out on the table, yes, I had intentionally gotten pregnant. I had planned to leave the church, not God, mind you, just the church, and had I not lost the baby after I was shot, I would have shared my life, and that of my child’s, with Aidan, if she’d have me.”

  Aidan looked at her and smiled, “You don’t even have to ask, kid.”

  She squeezed Aidan’s hand, then looked back at Mayflower, “So what’s it going to be?” she asked with stubborn resolve.

  Mayflower looked at the others, who nodded in unison, “Very well then, we’ll do it your way. Go save your hospital Vicky, you’ve got three months.”

  ***

  “Your steak, ma’am.” The waiter set down a medium rare T-bone in front of Aidan, and a shrimp scampi‒lobster tail in front of Vicky. Then he handed Aidan a bottle of ketchup, and extra butter for her potato. She smothered her steak in ketchup, and cut into the still sizzling meat. Taking a big bite, she rolled her eyes in ecstasy.

  “How’s your lobster, baby?”

  Vicky took a sip of her Chardonnay, “Delicious. Thank you for taking me out to celebrate, sweetheart.”

  “You deserve it, Vicky. You kicked ass today, and I loved watching you do it. Now, can we finally move back home. I’m tired of living at the hospital.”

  She laughed, and nodded her head, “We’ll move back tonight, as soon as we get back to Little Rock.” Then she became more reflective, “Do you think I can do it, Aidan? Do you think I can get people to come back to the hospital?”

  Before Aidan could answer, she was interrupted by a lady holding a book and a newspaper. The stranger looked at the back of the book cover, then at Vicky, and asked, “Are you Victoria Montgomery?” Aidan’s guard immediately shot up. A reflex she’d had since the school bully picked on Vicky in first grade, heightened now, because of recent events.

  “Yes, I’m Victoria Montgomery. Can I help you?”

  “Would you autograph my book? I just bought it next door, and I can’t wait to read it.”

  Vicky looked at Aidan and laughed, “Of course,” she looked at the lady again, “I’d be happy to, thank you,” She took the pen from her new fan, and signed her book.

  “Thanks! Say, have you seen the paper today? Your picture is on the front page. Really tragic, what happened there.” The lady handed her the wrinkled newspaper, “Here, you can keep it, I’ve already read it.” She tucked her newly autographed book under her arm and left.

  Vicky unfolded the newspaper, and clapped her mouth with her hand, to suppress a scream. There, on the front page, was a picture of her, lying on the lobby floor at the hospital, in a pool of her own blood. Beside it was another picture, showing the blasted out wall of the Education Building. The headline read, in bold black letters, DOWN FOR THE COUNT? The byline was Dick Boggs, the reporter Vicky had shamed during the press conference for the president.

  “Oh my God!”

  Aidan took the paper from her lover’s shaking hands, and looked at it. She said, to no one in particular, “Who the shit took that picture? It must have been right after you were shot. Damn it!” Why didn’t I see that? Why didn’t I stop that? But on the night of the shooting, her tunnel vision was solely focused on Vicky and the terrorist, she hadn’t notice anyone or anything else, around her.

  Vicky’s heart sank, “It doesn’t matter now. That’s it, it’s over.”

  Aidan gave her a worried look, “It’s the National Chatter rag, kid, don’t worry about it. Nobody reads this garbage.”

  She could barely hear Aidan's voice, as she slipped into the dark realm of hopelessness.

  *

  Later that night, while Aidan showered, Vicky laid in bed, completely depleted of all emotions except one, despair. It was unlike her to just give up. Yet, the magnitude of the challenge that lay ahead, already had her believing she would fail. As CEO of a large hospital system, she knew firsthand, how impossible it could be to sway the public’s perception, once they had made up their minds. She had faced that problem, once before, when she first became CEO of St. Frances, and it had taken years of hard work to do it. Years. Vicky didn’t have years, this time, she only had three months. It’s impossible. What the hell can I accomplish in three months?

  Aidan had finished her shower, and was standing in the bedroom with only a towel around her wet hair. She stood there for a moment, watching Vicky, and then finally asked, “What are you thinking about, kid?”

  Startled out of her thoughts, Vicky looked up at her, “Do you know how long it took me to turn St. Frances around the first time? Three years. Three long, painstakingly hard years, and they think I can do the same thing in three months? I can’t do it, Aidan. There’s just no way.”

  Aidan could tell, Vicky had given up, and that hurt her heart. But she wasn’t going to let her give up without a fight.

  “You’re right, Vicky, you can’t do it.” Vicky looked at her in disbelief, but Aidan continued, “You can’t do it, with that kind of attitude. You’ve already shot yourself in the foot. Now, that may get you out of the war, but it doesn’t get you a free ride.”

  Vicky looked at her, agitated and confused, “I don’t understand, honey, what does that have to do with anything?”

  “Baby, I’m standing here, butt naked, and defenseless, and you haven’t even noticed.”

  She gasped at the realization, “Oh!”

  “Now, I could take that personally, and just give up, but I won’t. No, I’m not going to shoot myself in the foot. Instead, I’m going to crawl into that bed and make mad, passionate love to you, until you say you can do this. Because…,” she pulled the towel off her head, and threw it on the floor, “I am not a quitter…,” shaking her hair free, she climbed into bed, “and neither are you.”

  She kissed Vicky hard on the lips, and then trailed her kisses down her throat, until she came to Vicky’s breasts. One small, searing kiss with her pulsating lips, and Vicky’s nipple harden with desire.

  Aidan grinned, “Your breasts sure haven’t given up,” she teased one breast, and then the other. Vicky laughed, and moaned for more, and Aidan put a little more pressure in her fingers, kneading both breasts into throbbing peaks of desire. She tenderly kissed the scar between her lover’s breasts, then laid her ear to Vicky’s heart. Looking back up, Aidan said, “Your heart hasn’t given up, it’s beating like a drum.” She kissed her way down to Vicky’s belly button, causing her back to arch in anticipation. “Looks like your cute little belly button hasn’t given up yet either.” Aidan used her tongue to explore Vicky’s belly button, down to just above her pubis.

&n
bsp; “Oh, Aidan.”

  “Oh and look, your clit hasn’t given up either,” she reached through the slickness, and with two fingers, began massaging her, triggering a loud giggle from Vicky. Aidan grinned, thoroughly enjoying her lover’s response. She continued her sweet torture, by aggressively rubbing, adding in some kisses, and teasing of the breasts again, until Vicky was at the apex.

  “I’m coming, Aidan, I can’t hold it off any longer,” she giggled. Aidan grinned again, when Vicky shouted, “Oh wow, oh wow!”

  “Are you ready, baby?” she teased, slowing her pace just enough to hold off the climax.

  “Please, honey,” Vicky was almost begging for release.

  “Say it, baby”

  “Uncle!”

  “No, you gotta say it, Vicky,” she moved her hands down to Vicky’s vagina, and rubbed her hot spots.

  “Oh God!” Vicky clinched the sheets with one hand, and Aidan’s arm with the other.

  “Nope, that wasn’t it either. Say it baby, say you can do it.” With a sinister grin, Aidan moved in with her tongue, and pushed Vicky over the preverbal edge, into ecstasy.

  “I can do it!” she screamed, as her passion pulsated throughout her body, “Oh God, I can do it!”

  *

  The next morning Vicky awoke with a renewed spirit, and more energy than she had felt in a long time. “Wake up, sleepy head!” She nudged Aidan, who groaned and rolled over, “Wake up! We’ve got a hospital to save!” Aidan opened her eyes, and smiled to herself, then she rolled back over, in time to see Vicky’s naked body scurrying into the bathroom.

  Oh, how I love to wake up to that view in the morning!

  She jumped out of bed and joined Vicky in the shower. Giggling, Vicky made room for her lover, who took the soap from her hands, and began lathering her back.

  “Feeling better today, kid?”

  “Much better, thank you for that, sweetheart,” she turned around, and kissed Aidan.