Waking Up Joy

by Tina Ann Forkner

  I don’t agree with my mom and Aunt Carey that Aunt Joy went a little nuts while she was in her coma. Why is it such a big deal that she claims to have heard us while she was in the hospital? And I certainly can’t figure out why her claims to have seen our Grandpa are a bad thing. All the brothers and sisters have seen his ghost except Aunt Carey, and it’s never been a bad thing before now. But if Mom and Aunt Carey are right and Aunt Joy really is unstable, I don’t want to stress her out. Aunt Carey says I’m a teenager and that she can’t expect me to understand (rolling my eyes to the heavens here), but that Aunt Joy’s fragile and we aren’t supposed to give her any bad news or trouble. So the question is, would my giving her the box from the chimney be good news or bad?

  Ruthie

  Chapter Fourteen

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  I knew Ruthie was hiding in the tree the day the mayor took me into his arms. I hated for her to see. Not that we were doing anything wrong, of course, but I knew Ruthie and that her mind would be filled with all kinds of romantic notions. Her favorite book was The Outsiders, but I knew she liked it mostly because she imagined the boys were attractive. What she read most were romance novels, like I always had, and still do. My favorites were set on the beach, which is where I had always wanted to take my honeymoon.

  I knew all about the stacks of novels Ruthie hid in the same place as her diary. I’m guessing she thought if she hid them at the farmhouse, her mom wouldn’t find out. And she was right. I kept mine stuck beneath the mattresses and the bed frame when I was a kid, since Momma thought they were bad, but Ruthie was more creative. Of course, it was impossible to beat Aunt Joy at her own game. I never told on Ruthie, because who can blame her for wanting to be in love? And more importantly, wanting someone to love her back. I understood that feeling all too well.

  When Jimmy had kissed the top of my head, I grew weak in the knees wishing he might love me back the way I’d always hoped, but then I found my dignity. Who did he think he was touching me after all that time? As if jilting me all those years ago for reasons I wouldn’t want Ruthie to know about wasn’t enough, he had been a widower for five years. To me, that spoke as loud as the cheerleaders screaming at homecoming. The looks of regret I thought I’d seen on his young face as he sat beside his pregnant teen girlfriend, Fern, must have been fake. Or else, I misread the gesture. If he hadn’t spoken to me before now, even after Fern had been gone for five years, God Bless her soul, then he had loved her. Funny, how I never thought of that before my coma. I was so stuck in the past, in my hurt and longing for all I’d lost, I never grew up on the inside. Now, things were in reverse. I felt like a teenager again, but where Jimmy was concerned, I was finally a woman. I had to let go of the past, no matter how much his touch made me tremble.

  “Aunt Joy?”

  I looked up to see Ruthie standing in front of me at the bottom of the porch steps. I hadn’t even noticed her, since I’d been lost in thought, as I had a cup of morning joe.

  “Ruthie. Where’d you come from?”

  “I walked from The Greasy Wheel. Mom’s there.”

  “All that way?” I remembered those days when I was a kid. Momma hadn’t thought girls needed to drive, but we had anyway.

  Ruthie followed me inside the house and to the kitchen table. What I didn’t say out loud was that I knew Ruthie was bored and she needed something to do. She had no idea I saw her spying on me and the Mayor multiple times, which meant she was bored. Maybe if she had some errands to run, she might not be so inclined to being sneaky. I chuckled to myself. I remember spying a few times myself when I was a kid, such as when I saw Nanette kissing a boy under the magic apple tree. It wasn’t my fault I was sitting up in its branches. Ruthie had discovered my same hiding spot.

  “I’m teaching you how to drive.”

  “You’re teaching me to drive?”

  “Yep, as soon as your uncles get the old Chevy started.”

  I knew she wanted to drive the cherry red car that had been sitting in the driveway for too long, but she was too afraid to ask. She was a fast learner and once she had her license, she drove it back and forth to town for all sorts of trivial things that I needed, like salt, lemons, and rutabaga, a vegetable I threw in just to see if she was listening.

  I sure loved that girl, but she was at my side every single moment, and while I enjoyed her company, I didn’t think it was good for her to hang out with a spinster like me. She should have been off finding herself a boyfriend. Long before Jimmy jilted me, I at least had a romance. Even if mine ended up a tragedy, every girl should at least get to experience the sweet part. Ruthie needed that.

  Truth be told, I needed that. A second go around would have been nice.

  *

  Not long after Ruthie had gotten her license, I sent her off to town for a made up errand, I think it was shampoo that time, and I started pruning the magic apple tree. It seemed to be blooming late this year, and I was grateful. I thought it would be fun to decorate the kitchen with the branches, plus it needed pruning anyway. If there was one thing I wanted to do for Momma, it was to take care of the tree she loved to sit under, and that held so much meaning.

  After I’d cut several branches, I climbed down from my ladder and plunged the branches into a galvanized bucket of water.

  Maybe I could sell these branches at Miss Donna’s, like Momma used to. Or, at the beauty shop.

  When I was about twelve, I asked Momma if the apple tree was really good luck.

  “Yes. It is a tree with a special kind of magic.”

  “What kind of magic does it have?”

  “Love magic,” Momma said.

  The idea of finding love beneath the apple tree’s branches had made the butterflies inside my adolescent self quicken their flutters. Much like they did the afternoon that Jimmy had pulled me into the safety of his arms. That was the moment I’d realized Ruthie was hiding in the apple tree. I’d heard her sharp intake of breath, sounded like a little squeal, when he kissed the top of my head. Ruthie was a romantic, but she didn’t know the whole story. If she had, she might have known that I hadn’t really been in the arms of a man who was good for me. But she could never know why my feelings for Jimmy were so complex. She was too innocent, too fresh. I wanted her to stay that way.

  On the other hand, I thought, as I snipped another branch. It fell to the ground, making a swishing sound as it hit the soft grass. I hadn’t felt innocent when Jimmy had pulled me into his arms, any more than when I pined away after him every Sunday morning as his beautiful voice rushed through me, accompanied by the sounds of the piano, as he plucked out tunes that stirred my soul in a way that probably wasn’t appropriate for church. You see, people think I’m one of those spinsters who doesn’t mind being a spinster and never has had a romantic thought. Well, that’s just ridiculous.

  Dear Lord, if people knew the things I thought about in church.

  “I need to get out. Meet someone.” Daffy ran over to my ladder and sat on his haunches. “Someone besides you, Daffy Duck.”

  I heard gravel crunch a few miles away. I knew it would be Ruthie back from her errand. She was supposed to bring me a Diet Coke from Miss Donna’s, and so I waited for her to come to me in the orchard, too busy snipping branches to turn around.

  “Hi!”

  That was not Ruthie’s voice. I looked back.

  Doc had his hands out, ready to catch me if I fell, which I promptly did. I shrieked, and he helped me gain my balance keeping his hands on my shoulders, even after I stopped wobbling. I noted they weren’t rough and calloused liked Jimmy’s, but capable like he knew how to take care of a woman.

  Oh brother.

  I’d definitely been reading too many romance novels, but what can I say? That’s how his hands were.

  “Hi, Doc!” Why am I shouting?

  Then, I remembered the scarf I had tied around my head. My hands flew to my hair, then to my face, and finally to smooth over my denim jeans, which were entirely too snug to be wearing around vis
itors. Especially good-looking ones like Doc. Carey would never approve. If she were me, she would have excused herself to go change. But, she wasn’t me.

  “I followed Ruthie out here. Ran into her in town and she said she would show me the way.”

  “Were you trying to scare me?” I couldn’t help but respond to his grin with a smile of my own.

  “No. Just teasing,” he said, his beautiful mouth turned up in an apologetic smile. My heart fluttered.

  “Oh, heavens,” I said, and then realized I said it out loud.

  “You okay? You sound a little out of breath, Joy.”

  Good heavens, I love how you say my name.

  “Yes. A little out of breath, but I’m fine.”

  “You sure?”

  “Trust me, Doc. It’s not what you think.” If only he knew!

  He gave me a long look that swept me into a wind tunnel in which I heard nothing, even though I saw his lips moving.

  Kiss me.

  The thought made me blush like a teenage girl.

  Good heavens. Act your age, Joy.

  He was looking at me, those golden brown eyes bright with good things—happiness. I wanted to be part of that. I’d spent too many years without good things when it came to the men.

  “Joy?”

  I blinked. “Yes, Doc?”

  “I was saying that actually, it’s not Doc. It’s Kyle Christie.”

  I nodded, still not believing that Doc was standing right there in my Momma’s orchard.

  “You came here just to see me?”

  “Yes.”

  “You didn’t call, and since you don’t live in Spavinaw Junction, I figured I wouldn’t see you again, since I don’t plan on falling off anymore roofs.” This made him laugh.

  “Nurse Clara likes to pretend to be mom. I like to let her, so I come here occasionally. I was in Miss Donna’s that day to pick up dessert for dinner at her house. I bought cake. And I did call.”

  “What kind of cake?”

  “Rum.”

  “Hmmm. Did you like it?”

  “Best ever.”

  I smiled. “That’s good, because I made it. Miss Donna’s has been selling some of my cakes.”

  He shook his head. “I am not surprised, Joy. It fits.”

  “Fits what?”

  “Your personality. Of course, I’d never seen your personality, until I talked to you that day in Miss Donna’s. That’s why I had to get your number.”

  “I never received a call. Are you sure you called?”

  “Yes. I talked to your sister, Carey. Said she would give you a message.”

  Well, that little heifer.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I came all this way unannounced, but the message was that I’d be in town today to see Clara. I thought you might be expecting me. Besides, I wanted to see how you were.”

  So, maybe you are here as a doctor.

  “Well, Doc, I’m fine. No headaches. My back doesn’t hurt much. Just a few nightmares, but I’ve always had those.”

  I heard a cough and remembered Ruthie was still standing by her car. I should have given that girl a longer errand.

  “Ruthie, could you get the Doc some iced tea and cake? What’ll it be, Doc. Carrot? Or Twinkie?

  “Twinkie cake?” He looked doubtful.

  “You’ll love it.”

  “Twinkie it is.”

  He peered down at me, raising his hands back to my shoulders.

  “I’m really glad you’re okay,” he said. “And I’m glad I ran into you at Miss Donna’s. It was great to meet you in real life.” He winked.

  A giggle escaped my lips. “That’s right. I wasn’t easy to get to know when I was asleep in my coma. I was definitely lacking in personality.”

  “You were just a patient on my list, but you were so beloved by everyone who filed in to visit you that I remember thinking that I hoped you made it, because lots of people were waiting for you to wake up.”

  “Is real life Joy what you expected?” I asked.

  “No. I didn’t expect to see the waking Joy in real life again, but I definitely didn’t know you were so adorable and witty. Of course, I should have, after the funeral.”

  Oh heavens.

  “I wish you would just forget about that, but Doc, I do want to tell you something.”

  He squeezed my shoulders. “What’s that?”

  “I am so grateful for you. You literally saved me.” I dared to reach a hand up, place my hand over one of his. In response he, stepped closer.

  He smiled, and those same butterflies that still go crazy when I see Jimmy, fluttered around in my chest at that moment. As butterflies went, they had no loyalty to any man. Maybe they were just excited for someone new.

  I could stand up all by myself now, so he really didn’t need to hold me anymore, but I certainly didn’t mind. I had forgotten how to play this game. Did I need to lean closer, or did I wait for him? And did he even want to kiss me or am I just crazy?

  A series of loud yips interrupted us before I could decide what Doc was thinking.

  “Joy,” he said, suddenly the doc again. “What do you think you were doing up on a ladder?”

  I felt my cheeks go warm and knew I was blushing like a teenager on prom night.

  “Oh, fiddlesticks!” It was all I could think to say. Good looking or not, lemon drop breath and everything, I didn’t like people bossing me around.

  “Fiddlesticks?”

  “Why is everyone trying to tell me what to do?”

  He was standing very, very close. Close enough he might have been able to smell the honeysuckle perfume I’d dabbed on my neck that morning.

  “I was just telling Ruthie. I’ve had plenty of rest. I slept for a week, Doc.”

  “Kyle.”

  I shook my head, stepped back. His hands fell away, breaking the romantic tension.

  “Listen, Doc. I have lots to do. What are you doing here?”

  He suddenly didn’t look so confident. I couldn’t read what he was thinking. “Joy. I didn’t come as your doctor. I’m not your doctor anymore. Dr. Duncan is your doctor.”

  He stepped closer, although there wasn’t much room left between us.

  “Then why are you here?” I was breathless again, but I think he might have realized it wasn’t because I was dizzy or over exerted.

  He reached down and curled his hand around mine.

  Now, I might really pass out.

  “I thought . . . Maybe I misread your feelings, but I thought . . .”

  I held my breath, trying to remember if there had been a look, a gesture or something, that would’ve told me he was attracted to me. He was just my ER doctor for Pete’s sake. I hadn’t thought he was as attracted to me as I was him.

  Of course, there was the other day in Miss Donna’s. Could that have been something more than just Doc being nice?

  I couldn’t ask him of course.

  “I’d like to get to know you, Joy. That’s why I asked you to coffee.”

  It occurred to me that Doc was younger than me. Maybe by a whole decade. But we were both over thirty, so surely that was okay.

  I studied his face, his side burns free of the grey that he might have in ten years. Going out with a man like Doc would make Carey go off like a train whistle.

  “Okay,” I said.

  He smiled. Nodded. Looked me up and down, which lit all my fires, of course.

  “You look very nice,” he said quietly. “Very pretty out of your hospital clothes.”

  At first I was mortified, but then when I saw in his face that he hadn’t meant it that way, I laughed so loud that Ruthie peeked out the screen door for a second to check on me. Oh, it felt good to laugh! I hadn’t laughed like that in a long time.

  “My, aren’t you charming, Doc. You know just what to say to a middle-aged, single woman to make her wake up from a coma, but you can’t think of something appropriate to say now that I’m awake.”

  He blinked and took a small step back. H
is hands slid down to grasp mine and he held them gently.

  Oh, my goodness. I did feel like a teenager again, just the same as when I’d first seen Jimmy in the hallways of Spavinaw Junction High.

  Only, I’m not a teenager. I’m a grown woman. And this definitely isn’t Jimmy.

  Doc tilted his head, smiling, but clearly not comprehending.

  “I heard you in the hospital. You said, ‘Come on, beautiful. Wake up.’ Or something like that.” I smiled. I turned to walk toward the house and he caught up, fell into step beside me.

  “I said that?” He looked bemused.

  “Doc, I heard lots of things—I had visions and feelings and—nobody believes me, except for your nurse, Clara. And Ruthie.”

  He tilted his head, like he wanted to hear more, so I jabbered on. What’s the worst that could happen?

  He might think I’m off my rocker, too. And maybe he already does.

  “My brothers and sisters think I’m three gallons of crazy in a two-gallon bucket, but I swear, Doc, it’s like I told you back in the hospital. I heard people talking the whole time in my coma.”

  He took my hand, the touch of his fingers sending shivers across my palm, and folded it against his chest. “My diagnosis of the situation, even though I’m not your doctor anymore, is that you should give them some time.”

  Not my doctor?

  He cleared his throat, smiled that sexy smile that I imagine all my favorite romance novel heroes had.

  “Is your name really Ned?”

  “Kyle,” he corrected. “Actually, just Doc is fine if you insist, but—”

  “Doc,” I said. “But you aren’t my doctor anymore.”

  “Correct. I’m not your doctor, which, again, is why I’m here.”

  The way that he looked at me just then, like I was the sweetest thing since strawberry jam, set the butterflies to fluttering around again.

  He leaned in a little, and wouldn’t you know, that’s exactly when his dad-gummed doctor’s beeper went off, squawking like a duck, spoiling the whole moment.