If You Could Read My Mind

by Jeanie London

  “Your mammogram.”

  Oh. “You want to talk about it?”

  He nodded.

  Jillian had made her choices and would stand by them, even though she recognized the hurt in his face and how hard he tried to hide it. “How’d you find out?”

  “Your films are in the office. Are you surprised I noticed them?”

  There was no place to go with that question except for the truth. She just nodded her assent.

  “I’m not surprised by that.”

  “I wasn’t trying to hide anything, Michael. I just wasn’t ready to discuss what was going on.”

  “Why?”

  The moment of truth. Jillian hesitated, not wanting to spoil the contentment of this sunny morning, the memories of a past that made her feel so close to him. She didn’t want anger to put more distance between them. She was so tired of distance. She’d wanted to seduce him senseless before they tackled this, but the choice was no longer hers.

  Michael must have recognized her uncertainty because he reached for her hand, a loving gesture of reassurance. “Give it to me straight. I can handle it. I want to handle it.”

  There was something so earnest in his voice…. Staring down at their clasped hands, she drew strength from the sight of his strong fingers threaded through hers.

  How did she tell him that she felt as if her health didn’t matter to him? She’d had this conversation so many times in her head, but now that she needed to open her mouth, everything she wanted to say sounded resentful and petty, would surely put him on the defense.

  “You were hurt because I never asked how your appointments went, weren’t you.”

  There was no question in his voice, or any accusation, either. Just a simple statement of fact. And to Jillian’s shame, she felt utterly relieved that he understood and she didn’t have to explain it. She knew how much Michael hated disappointing her. And she hated making him feel that way. She hated feeling guilty for wanting something from him.

  “I was wrong, Jilly,” he said quietly. “Don’t feel bad about that.”

  “I wasn’t playing games,” she said. “I just needed to sort through my feelings. I certainly didn’t expect an abnormal result, and needed to deal with that. But I was hurt. I felt like you should have cared enough to express some interest. I hated feeling so resentful. That’s why I chose not to say anything yet. I needed to wait until I got my feelings under control, or else I knew I’d make you feel guilty.”

  He dropped his gaze to their clasped hands, and she knew he was looking for that same refuge and strength in their clasped hands. She gave a reassuring squeeze.

  “I should feel guilty for not asking how your appointments went. It’s not that I don’t care about your health. I hope you’ll believe that. It’s just I always assume you’ll tell me anything that’s important. I count on it too much. I didn’t realize it until now, and that’s just not fair.”

  “Of course I know you care, Michael. I also know you’re busy. Our lives get so hectic sometimes—”

  “Nothing is more important to me than you are. If I’ve let other things get in the way of me showing you, then I’m wrong. I appreciate you always rising to my defense, but I don’t want you making excuses for my behavior. It’s not fair to either of us.”

  She thought about that. And he was right. She did make excuses for his behavior. She defended him against her own allegations of thoughtlessness then felt guilty because she wanted simple consideration.

  “I should have told you how I felt and not expected you to be a mind reader.”

  Something about that made him smile. “Yes, you should have.”

  He didn’t give her a chance to respond but rolled toward her. Pulling her into his arms, he tucked her close until they were cheek to cheek. “I’ve gotten complacent. I don’t know exactly when it happened, but it did. About our marriage. About my health. About your health. You have every right to be upset with me. I haven’t been there for you, and I’m sorry. I want to change this. But I’ll need your help. And I’m talking about more than your slick moves in the kitchen. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you don’t buy snacks anymore.”

  She chuckled. “I just want you to be healthy. I worry about how you’re tired all the time.”

  “Then tell me. I want you to share what’s going on inside your pretty head. Now I’m paying attention, I get the feeling that what you say and what you think don’t always add up.”

  If he only knew… “Are you angry I didn’t tell you about my test results?”

  “Yes, but not at you. I understand how you felt. I placed you in a position where you have every right to feel hurt. But because you love me, you kept worrying more about my reactions than how wrong I was being to you.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m glad you love me.”

  Tipping her head back, she gazed into his face, needed to see the regret in his bright eyes, needed to feel the hope of his words. “You know, sometimes I think you are a mind reader. That’s exactly how I feel.”

  He laughed. Then, rolling onto his back, he pulled her on top of him so she lay draped over him like a curvy blanket, their bodies aligning in exactly the right places. “If I apologize and ask nicely, will you tell me what’s going on?”

  “I’ve got a lump. It looks like a fibroadenoma, and three doctors have told me not to worry. The edges are clearly defined, so they’re pretty sure it’s benign. They won’t know for certain until they biopsy it. I’m comfortable with that.”

  “Not worried?”

  “How about not worried a lot?”

  He pressed a kiss to her brow. “Have you scheduled the procedure?”

  “No. Not until I talked to you. I intended to make love to you this weekend and when you were brain-dead and boneless, I was going to tell you.”

  “Guess I messed up your plan.”

  “I’m not complaining.” She smiled. “I haven’t scheduled the surgery yet because I want you to be with me. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to close the office or ask Dr. Cavanaugh to cover with your patients.”

  “I’d rather close the office. I’m sure Charlotte and the girls won’t mind a day off.”

  “Not as long as you pay them.”

  “Naturally.” He dragged his hands down her back, a tender caress that awakened such heat inside her. “I want you to expect from me, Jillian, and I want you to tell me what you expect. I need you to.”

  He watched her with a gaze that left no room for doubts, saw the truth of a love that was still growing, still as promising as it had always been.

  She sighed. “I love you, Michael.”

  He caught her mouth in a kiss that promised her forever, and she looped her arms around his neck, taking advantage of her superior position, loving the sun warming her back, the sounds of the wildlife and the lapping water, the feel of Michael’s hands on her.

  She knew that they could handle whatever came up, if they handled it together. No more holding out, no more resentment, no more hurt feelings. Everything suddenly felt right in her world. Except for one thing…

  Wrapping her arms around Michael’s waist, she anchored herself close and gave a heave with all her might.

  “Jilly!” His muscles gathered as he vainly resisted the move that toppled them right off the dock.

  Splash.

  Jillian slithered away before Michael came up sputtering.

  “What are you—”

  She caught him by the waistband of his jeans and helped him stand. “There’s a fantasy I have that I haven’t told you about yet. Since you’re not a mind reader, I thought I’d show you, but it involves taking off these pants.”

  His bright eyes sparkled. Bracing his elbows on the dock, he hoisted himself up enough so she could work the sodden tangle of his jeans and briefs down his legs.

  It took a little while and a good bit of effort, but by the time she dragged the last of his clothes away, she’d unleashed what had grown into a raging erection.

  “Look
s like you have the same fantasy.” She was about to break away, but he caught her arms and pulled her close.

  “Oh, I do.” He made quick work of her lingerie, and then both of them stood face to face with the water lapping between them, finally naked.

  Jillian rested her head against his chest, caught up in the moment. Gliding her tongue in the scoop between his neck and shoulder, she sampled the fresh-water taste of him.

  “I want you to remember all the reasons why you fell in love with me.” He pressed tender kisses into her hair and along her temple.

  “I’ve never forgotten. You know that, don’t you?”

  When he gazed down into her face with all the love she felt mirrored in his eyes, Jillian knew she’d said the right thing.

  “I do.”

  “Good.” She broke out of his embrace and bolted away in a wild attempt to gain distance. “If you can catch me, you can have me.” She called out the dare over her shoulder.

  With his husky laughter echoing over the lake, Michael dove in after her.

  And one of those reasons was that he was a much faster swimmer.

  13

  Three weeks later

  SERAFINE HAD TO do a little fancy talking to convince the floor nurse she was a family member checking in on Mrs. Jillian. But the nurse had been smart enough to know Serafine wasn’t going to budge from that desk until she saw the patient.

  “The doctor just examined her, so she’ll be released soon,” the nurse explained as she directed Serafine through the corridor of recovery rooms.

  “Guess I won’t be long visiting then.”

  The nurse frowned disapprovingly. She gave a sharp knock before opening the door and announcing, “You have a visitor.”

  Holding the door wide, she allowed Serafine to enter. Tucking her picnic basket close, she smiled when she saw Mrs. Jillian on the bed already dressed, and Dr. Michael seated beside her, his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

  “Well, don’t you two lovebirds look right as rain?”

  “Widow Serafine,” Mrs. Jillian sounded as sleepy as her heavy-lidded eyes looked, but her smile was genuine, which made Serafine glad she’d bullied the old nurse. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay at the camp?”

  “Never better. All one hundred and three of our little campers are wreaking havoc on the hallowed grounds as we speak. I snuck away to check up on you. We were all worried.”

  “You didn’t need to drive all the way down.” Dr. Michael’s welcoming smile convinced her he wasn’t sorry she had.

  “Of course I did.” She held up a huge picnic basket. “Marie-Louise and I cooked up enough food so you won’t have to cook for a week. It’s all on ice in here, so never you mind about it. Just toss the basket in the car, Dr. Michael. It’ll stay all day. Unload everything into the fridge after you get Mrs. Jillian home and settled.”

  “Thank you,” they both said.

  Serafine set the basket on the floor beside the door. “Got all your favorites, too. Gumbo, fried chicken, bouillabaisse, and Marie-Louise whipped up two pies—raisin and pecan.”

  Dr. Michael groaned. “My diet’s going straight to hell this week. That’s for sure.”

  “Diet?” Serafine eyed him like a Christmas goose. “Why would you be dieting? Strapping boy like you needs meat on your bones. Gotta keep up your strength. That right, Mrs. Jillian?”

  Jillian just smiled.

  “Well, I won’t be keeping you two. Just wanted to drop off the basket and see you with my own eyes.”

  “Would you let everyone know the surgery went well?” Dr. Michael asked. “Ike asked me to call specifically.”

  “Of course, I’ll take care of it. Don’t give it another thought. We’re all worried about Mrs. Jillian.”

  Jillian shook her head. “No more worrying. The surgeon got everything and said it all looks benign. Of course, we’ll know for sure in ten days after the radiologist does the biopsy, but so far so good.”

  “Praise the Lord.” Serafine meant it. This young couple had love on their side. They should be together for long lifetimes, raising babies and staring at each other all starry-eyed.

  Dr. Michael pressed a kiss on his wife’s tousled head. “That goes for you, Jilly. No more worrying.”

  “That’s right, Mrs. Jillian.” Serafine backed him up. “You need to be recovering your strength from the surgery. Don’t tell me you’re worried about the camp. We’ve got it well in hand.”

  “Oh, I know that,” Jillian said quickly.

  “No question there, Widow Serafine,” Dr. Michael explained. “That’s what has Jillian worried. You’re doing such a wonderful job with the campers that she’s worrying what’ll happen when your family rebuilds your home. We’ve been tossing around ideas to make you want to stay at the camp.”

  Serafine couldn’t help but laugh. Somehow things always worked out in the end, didn’t they? “Well, funny you’d mention that. My kin and I have been tossing around some ideas, too. Raphael’s been worried you won’t need all of them once they get the place shipshape again. As they’ve settled in better than I could have ever hoped, we’ve been talking about ways to make ourselves useful after the campers leave.”

  “The positions are year-round.” Mrs. Jillian sounded all brisk and businesslike, but she looked sleepy and worried. “The farm is busy all through the school year. I know Ike needs the help, and I don’t see any reason why you all can’t train to conduct tours and parties if you’re of a mind to learn. Raphael, Philip and Marie-Louise would be naturals.”

  “Now don’t you be thinking about anything except getting better right now, Mrs. Jillian,” Serafine ordered gently. “We Baptistes signed on for the long haul, don’t you know it. Raphael’s just looking to make himself and his kin so useful you won’t feel like they’re slacking. He likes it there right well. They all do.”

  “What sort of ideas did you all come up with?” Dr. Michael asked. “Why don’t you sit and tell us?”

  Serafine shook her head. “We can get together and talk about things when Mrs. Jillian’s up to par again. But to give you an idea, we’ve been looking into college. Working at Camp Cavelier might make my kin eligible for some historic-preservation and wildlife-conservation scholarships. Raphael’s thinking about business management so he can run the place proper. Marie-Louise is a shoo-in for hospitality management and, believe it or not, Philip has quite a head for numbers. He’s already burning a sign for an office door. It says, Philip Baptiste, Chief Financial Officer.”

  Both Mrs. Jillian and Dr. Michael laughed.

  “Sounds like we’d have all the bases covered,” Dr. Michael said with a twinkle in those big baby blues.

  “Seems that way to me,” Serafine agreed. “But there’ll be plenty of time to talk once Mrs. Jillian’s on the mend and the campers go home. So put your minds at rest.”

  Mrs. Jillian smiled softly. “But what about you, Widow Serafine? Don’t you miss your family?”

  “Well, sure I do.” She folded her arms across her chest and darted a meaningful gaze between husband and wife. “I like having everyone within easy reach, but it’s not like Bayou Doré is that far away. Do my kin a world of good to get out and see me for a change, I’m thinking. Teach ’em to appreciate me.” She grinned. “Virginie’s brood is my kin, too, and doesn’t look like getting around has done them any harm.”

  What she’d keep to herself for the moment was that Raphael was right about something else. She was sweet on Ike, in a way she’d never been sweet on her late husband.

  God bless his soul.

  “Camp Cavelier needs the Baptistes. Just look at Ike in that lonely cabin of his with instant coffee and microwave dinners.” Serafine shook her head. “That’s no way for a man to live. Especially not a man who works as hard as he does.”

  Mrs. Jillian and Dr. Michael exchanged surprised looks, knowing looks.

  Serafine just smiled. Well, could she help it if she was beginning to see why her baby sister had been so f
ond of adventuring? Who knew she’d turn out to be a late bloomer?

  Virginie was probably laughing her fool head off.

  “Ike’s been a good influence on the boys,” Serafine said with a wink.

  “I’m sure he is,” Dr. Michael said.

  “Well, now that that’s all settled, I guess I’ll be heading back. You take good care of each other, and don’t worry about the camp. We’ve got it under control.”

  “Thanks so much for everything,” Mrs. Jillian said.

  “You both, too. You’ve been good to me and my kin, and we appreciate it. Just holler if you need anything else.”

  Serafine paused in the doorway and turned back to them. “Oh, Dr. Michael. I was meaning to tell you that this bridge of mine is doing the job just great.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “And I wanted to ask…what’s going on with that new crown of yours? Is it defective or something?

  Dr. Michael’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth when Jillian caught his chin in her hand and tipped his face toward her for a look.

  “What’s the matter with it?” she asked.

  “The color is way off from his other pretty teeth. I noticed it from this doorway, and my eyesight isn’t the best.”

  Serafine didn’t need the best eyesight to see understanding dawning on Dr. Michael’s face.

  He met her gaze and smiled. “It must be defective then. I’ll take care of it as soon as I get back to the office. Thanks for mentioning it.”

  Serafine inclined her head in approval and turned to leave. She was going home. Everything was going to turn out just right for the Landrys, and Virginie’s brood, and for her, too.

  She knew it.

  When the trouble was over and done with

  MICHAEL INSPECTED the small porcelain tooth, wondering whether or not he should save it for another day. Who knew what life might serve up and when a superpower might come in handy? And his superpower had proven much better than any super-improved brain power. Who wanted to outthink everyone on the planet when he’d been able to read the mind of the only woman who’d ever mattered in his life?