by Té Russ
“You're looking as gorgeous as ever Miss Lainie.”
“Get your own woman,” came a deep voice from the porch. Neil Foster was just as handsome as Elaine was beautiful. There was no doubt that even at fifty-five Neil still garnered looks from woman, young and old alike. Neil came down the steps reaching for John's hand and giving him a quick, masculine one armed embrace.
“I hear you've got some work for me.”
He gave his wife a sidelong glance then looked back at John. “A few shingles got messed up in the last storm. Lainie thinks we should call someone in to do it.”
He pretended to look shocked. “We can have that done in thirty minutes.”
Neil gave him a smirk agreeing with John. He hooked his thumb over his shoulder and said, “That's what I told her, but she seems to think I'm an old man since I turned fifty-five.”
“You are an old man,” Elaine countered as she walked up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.
“Old? Woman I am no such thing. You know my doctor told me I could outrun someone fifteen years my junior.”
“Mmm hmm, I wonder how much he exaggerated.”
“You know how youthful I am.”
Elaine gasped and hit his arm. “You hush your mouth Neil Foster!”
Liz stifled a laugh as she noticed her mother's cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“You two women go on in the house and let us men folk bring the bags in.”
They were still laughing lightly as they entered the kitchen. There was enough food to feed an army. “Mama! Why do you have all of this food?”
Elaine looked at her daughter as if she'd lost her mind. “We're celebrating you getting your own art show of course! Do you want some tea?”
“Sure.”
She tilted her head to a basket of corn. “Gone over there and start shucking that corn.”
“Yes ma'am.”
Liz was always delegated to shucking corn and snapping peas since she didn't cook that well. She'd tried to cook, but she always ended up burning something, because she got too focused on a painting or sculpture and forgot about the food.
Elaine was standing at the sink filling the teakettle, with her back facing Liz when she spoke. “I wasn't sure if I needed to make up one bedroom or two this time for you and Johnathon.”
Liz's mouth dropped open and she nearly dropped the ear of corn in her hand. “Close your mouth Lizzie, you know what I always say about flies.”
“Mother! Why would you say such a thing?”
“Oh for heaven's sake Elizabeth, I'm no fool. And I'm no prude either. It is the twenty-first century.” She put the kettle on the stove and turned it on then turned to face her daughter.
“I could hear it in your voice when we spoke on the phone. I knew for sure when I saw the way you looked at him.”
Liz looked down focusing heavily on the corn in her hand. Her mother stepped towards her daughter. “Are you in love with him?”
She shrugged her shoulders the same way she did as a child to avoid her mother's questions. “Mama you know I love Johnny.”
“Don't get evasive with me Elizabeth Catherine Wheeler.” Her mother grabbed her chin and lifted it so they were looking each other in they eyes. “That's not what I asked and you know it. I asked if you were in love with him.”
She looked over her shoulder then leaned towards her mother. “The way things are now is so new Mama. I think so, but I'm not sure.”
“Well, you better figure it out soon. Johnathon is a good man.” She looked at her daughter and smiled. “You look even happier now, I must admit. He was always good for you though.” She pushed a loose strand of hair out of her daughter's face and noticed the scar on her forehead she'd gotten when she was thirteen. It had faded over the years, but was still visible.
A pained expression came across her mothers face. She looked at Liz again. “Have you told him how you got that scar yet?” She moved away from her mother's hand that had cradled her face.
“No, I haven't.”
“Have you told him anything about your father?”
“No Mother.”
“How have you not told him by now? You've been friends for so long? Don't you think he deserves to know, especially if you two are dating now.”
She gave an exasperated sigh. “That's not really a conversation I can easily bring up Mama.”
“Well, you should tell him soon. You shouldn't keep anything from him.”
She simply nodded and continued working on the corn. She knew her mother was right, but she would tell him in her own time, when she was ready.
John walked in a while later to the wonderful smells of food. He'd gone ahead and helped Neil fix the shingles before they even went in the house. It had actually taken less than thirty minutes.
“Something smells good in here!” he said. He looked at the two women working in the kitchen. “Do you need any help?”
“From a world renowned chef! I'll take your help any day!” Elaine chuckled.
“Now Miss Lainie you know I'm no 'world renowned' chef.”
“Ah,” Elaine replied pointing at him, “but you will be one day. Won't he Lizzie?”
They locked eyes for a moment, and Liz looked away, slightly embarrassed that they'd shared a silent, but passionate moment in front her mother.
“You think so Peaches?” his voice was seductively lower.
She smiled at him. “Of course, I do.”
John helped Elaine finish dinner and they sat down to enjoy the large meal. They sat around talking for a while, then Elaine and Neil decided to play a game of cards.
John nudge Liz then whispered to her, “Let's go for a walk.”
They headed down the walking trail silent for a while hand in hand.
“My mother knows about us?”
He stopped and looked at her. “Did you tell her?”
“She figured it out. Mother's intuition I suppose.”
He nodded.
“How do you feel about that?”
He shrugged. “They were going to find out at one point or another. Besides Randi already knows.”
“How long has she known?” Liz asked shocked.
“Since the day she visited you when you were sick then came and told me.”
“We weren't even together then John.”
“We were. You just didn't know it.”
He took her hand again and they continued to walk towards the lake. “It is so peaceful out here,” John murmured.
Liz nodded agreeing with him. “And beautiful.”
“Just like you,” he said turning to face her. He looked down at her and brushed a stray hair out of her face. “I've missed you all day.”
She tilted her head to the side. “We've been together all day.”
“Yes, but I've missed doing this.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her lips gently. She looked up at him and gave him a wicked grin. “Johnathon Parker, did you bring me out to the woods to make out with me?”
He smiled back at her and shrugged. “More or less. Come on, let's take the boat out on the lake.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon out on the lake talking and kissing. Liz thought it was the perfect way to end the day.
Chapter 15
The next few weeks passed by in a peaceful blur. Both John and Liz were busy working and hadn't got to see much of each other. There had been a rise in catering jobs and John had to help out where they were short staffed.
Meanwhile, Liz was busy preparing for her art show, which was now two weeks away. She'd done a photo shoot and interview a few weeks ago that would appear in several newspapers. She'd also done a couple of television spots that would air days prior to the gallery opening. When an artist headlined at Anjelah Martin's art gallery, they got plenty of publicity.
Along with getting her new paintings and sculptures finished, she was making sure the reproduction company made no mistakes on her other work. She wanted them to be as authentic as the origina
ls.
John and Liz had decided to stay in and have dinner at her apartment. She was getting cleaned up and told him to just use his key to come in and get started on dinner. They'd each had a key to the others apartment for years, but they usually used it only when one of them was out of town to make sure everything was all right.
Liz had just finished getting dressed when she heard the doorbell rang. Annoyed that John didn't just use his key like she'd told him, she stomped over to the door. Her eagerness to see him overrode her annoyance with him and by the time she reached the door she was fighting hard to hide the smile on her face.
“John,” she said as she grabbed the door handle, “I told you to use your key!” She swung the door open and her blood ran cold.
“Daddy?”
John was late.
One of the cooks called and said they were stuck in traffic, so he had to cover for her until she got there. John hurried home, got cleaned up, rushed down to the corner grocery store and grabbed everything he needed for dinner.
He felt like he hadn't seen Liz in forever and he was missing her like crazy. They spent as much time together as they could in the busy weeks that followed their weekend at her mother and stepfather's cottage, but it wasn't enough. He'd decided tonight he would change that.
He thought about when they'd walked back through the woods from the lake as the sun was setting and what Liz had told him about her mother's comment on them sharing a room. He'd been walking behind her slowly with his arms around her waist. He kissed the column of her neck. “What did you tell her?” he asked in between kisses.
She'd stopped, turned around and stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. “What do you mean what did I tell her?”
He shrugged. “Your mother seems fine with us sleeping together in the same bed.”
She looked around and whispered, “We are not having sex in my mother's house John!”
He grinned at her and replied, “I didn't say anything about having sex.”
She spun on her heels and began to walk away. He gave out a hearty laugh as he called out to her, “Why Ms. Wheeler, you have such a dirty mind!”
“Shut up!” she shouted over her shoulder as she continued to stomp through the woods. He finally ran after her and pulled her down into the grass kissing her until she laughed.
As he rode the elevator up to her floor, he thought about how things had changed in such a short amount of time. He loved this woman with all of his heart. He thought about them spending forever with each other; and having a few babies. He knew she would be a stunning pregnant woman carrying his children.
He shifted one of the bags in his arm and grabbed the key to her apartment out of his pocket as he stepped out of the elevator and headed to her door.
Liz couldn't move. She felt pure dread radiating through her body. She didn't bother to ask how he'd found out where she lived. The Internet was like a crystal ball in the right hands. He walked passed her and entered her apartment without even waiting to be invited in.
“Hello, baby girl.” It made her skin crawl to hear him call her such a term of endearment. Nicknames like that should have been reserved for father's who were good to their children and wives.
“What are you doing here?”
“Why I came to see you of course! I saw you in the paper. All famous with your upcoming gallery opening.”
“What do you want?”
He glared at her. “Can't a father just come and visit his daughter?”
“I haven't seen you since I was thirteen years old and you expect me to believe you're just coming to visit your dear old daughter?” She clicked her teeth at him and turned away from him.
“How's Elaine?” he asked.
She felt her temper spike immediately. She turned back to face him with look of pure contempt on her face.
“Don't you dare ask about my mother,” she spat out through clenched teeth. “Don't even speak her name! Do you hear me? You lost that right every single time you put your hands on her, and you completely lost the right when you put her in the hospital with four broken ribs and a fractured collar bone.”
Her father had been a severe alcoholic. She didn't know if he still was, and she didn't care. The damage was done. When he was drunk, he would say horrible things to her mother, then slap her around.
It was the reason she hated thunderstorms.
While most people found the sound soothing, they only reminded her of all of the times her father would come home from the bar drunk, taking it out on her mother.
Even after coming home from the hospital, she would let him back in. It was the one and only time that Frank put his hands on their thirteen year old daughter, giving her the scar on her forehead, for telling him what an awful man he was, that gave Elaine the strength to put him out for good and file for divorce. It was proof that a mother's love was stronger than anything in the world.
The only thing she'd asked for in the divorce was that he would pay for their two daughters' college educations. Leigh, not being able to handle the pain anymore, graduated early from high school and went to college across the country.
“You owe me,” he said to her.
“Excuse me?”
“You owe me!”
“What do I owe you?”
“All the money I had to pay for you to go to college! You had to go to one of the best school's in the country! You had to go and get a Master's degree! You couldn't just go to a nice little community college and keep me from going into the poor house.”
“You were suppose to be a father!” she screamed at him. “That's what real father's do! They take care of their children, make sure they get what is best for them! Real father's don't beat their wives and children.”
“I never laid a hand on Leigh, and you know I only hit you one time.”
“And that was one time too many Dad!” She lifted her bangs to show him the fading scar.
“How many times did you hit Mom? Huh? Answer me!”
“Look just write me a check and I'll leave.”
“I'm not giving you a damn thing.”
“No?”
“No!” She walked towards the door to kick him out, but he latched on to her forearm and wouldn't let go.
She looked down at his hand clenched around her arm, then looked at him. He was hurting her, but she wouldn't let him know that. She refused to cower to him.
“You take your hand off of me or so help me I will scream so loud this whole apartment will hear me,” she said in a voice much more calmer than she felt.
“If you don't write me a check, I'll find another way to get the money from you.” He turned and looked at her artwork. “I'm sure one of these paintings or sculptures will get me a pretty penny.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything the door flew open, slamming hard and loud against the door. They both turned to see John glaring over them like a dark avenging angel. He walked over to Liz, never taking his eyes off of the man who should have been her, her sister and her mother's protector. He gently pulled Liz away from her father.
“Honey, you didn't tell me we were having company. I only brought enough food for you and me.”
“This man is not staying, dear. He was just leaving.”
Frank looked from John to Liz. Then he sidestepped the two of them and headed out the door. John turned and grabbed the door.
“If you ever come near the woman I love again, I will not be responsible for my actions.”
Franks eyes grew wide at the threat and he looked at Liz one last time.
“Not that you deserve to know,” she said to him, “but my mother is doing just fine. She found a very nice man two years after you left and got married. They're still together. And he's never laid a finger on her in any way other than lovingly.”
She walked over and stood beside John taking the door and slammed it shut in the man's face.
She turned to look at John and his expression hadn't changed.
&
nbsp; “Why didn't you ever tell me Lizzie?”
“How much did you hear?”
“I heard enough!”
He stepped towards her and lifted her bangs revealing the scar on her forehead.
“He did that to you didn't he?”
He'd seen the scar plenty of times over the years. She merely told him that it happened in an accident when she was a kid.
She yanked her head to the side letting her hair fly over face.
“I told you he wasn't in our lives,” her voice trembled.
“You always made it seem like the man was dead.”
“He might as well be!” she spat out. She lowered her head and her curls fell around her face. “He is a cruel, heartless man. He never deserved to have my mother's love, or me or my sister as his daughters.”
“You're right about that,” he agreed looking back at the door. He opened it and looked out just to make sure the man was gone. The hall was empty.
“He has no idea.” His back was still facing her.
“What are you talking about John?”
He turned and looked her in the eyes. “He has no idea what an amazingly wonderful and beautiful daughter he has.”
She gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. “You are slightly biased, being my best friend and all.”
“I don't care. It doesn't matter anyway, it's true whether I'm biased or not.” He walked over to her, grabbing her waist with one hand and the back of her head with the other. “And you know just as well as I do that we're more than best friends now.”
She reached up and wrapped her fingers around his wrist and he massaged her head, causing her eyes to flutter closed. Just as he was about to lean in to kiss her, he glanced down and saw her bruised arm.
He took her arm and looked at it. She pulled it back. “It looks much worse than it feels.”
He felt a rage he'd never felt before. “I'm going to kill that son of a bitch.” He turned and swung the door open. Liz lunged after him, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards her. She closed the door.
