Waking Up Joy

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Waking Up Joy Page 15

by Tina Ann Forkner


  What would it be like to kiss Doc?

  I could use more than just a friend, and it was obvious from the way he was looking at me that Doc didn’t want to be just friends.

  “Let me wash these dishes,” I said, gathering up the saucers and coffee cups we’d just used.

  “Let me help.”

  He came around the table and stood in my way, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops. I set the plates I’d been holding in the sink, and then turned to lean back on it, facing him. He looked so comfortable in his caramel skin, his amber eyes studying my face, a lot like Jimmy had when he was younger.

  Don’t think about Jimmy!

  Doc smiled encouragement. I couldn’t help but appreciate how his thick hair curled down to where I knew a thin braid was tucked into the button down shirt he’d worn to work. He’d unbuttoned it at some point in the evening and I could now see how the white cotton t-shirt he wore underneath stretched across his chest. He was a bit too young for me, but obviously nobody had told him that.

  “Joy,” he was saying. I blinked, letting his image register in reality again. “You in there?”

  “Sometimes I’m not sure,” I teased. “Since I woke up from my coma, I don’t always know where dreams and reality meet anymore.”

  “Let me show you, reality, Joy.” He placed his hands on the counter on either side of me. I could feel his eyes on mine, but was too jittery to meet them. We weren’t two teenagers sneaking down to the creek. There were no brothers and sisters to hide from, no Momma to answer to. No late wife whose memory could steal his mind away. No golden band on his wedding finger. But I’m in love with the last man I made out with.

  I kept my eyes fixed on his t-shirt while he slid his arm softly around my shoulders.

  “Doc?”

  His voice was low and even. “Please, would you stop calling me Doc?”

  I forgot what I’d been about to say.

  “Why?” My heart pounded like the bass drum at a Friday night Spavinaw Junction football game.

  He tipped my chin and like a silly school girl, images of movie kisses scrolled through my mind.

  “It makes it hard to kiss you when you call me Doc. Doctors kissing patients is inappropriate.”

  “True,” I whispered. “And illegal.”

  “So say my name.”

  I took a shaky breath and let it out slowly. What would Jimmy think, if he could see me now?

  I worried about it for a second, but then remembered that Jimmy hadn’t made a move since the church balcony. Doc, on the other hand, had been waiting silently all these minutes, caressing my arms and tracing my jaw with his fingertips, while I’d been pondering, deciding, allowing my heart to reach from one old memory into a new moment, pounding its way toward Doc.

  Doc’s hands were on my shoulders now, squeezing them gently, his thumbs encouraging, massaging the fatigue away. He slid one hand behind my neck and kneaded my spine where it had ached since my accident with the rope.

  “Relax, Joy.”

  I closed my eyes, tilted my head back, letting Doc’s hand massage the dull pain of my neck that had never quite gone away since my fall from the roof, while his other hand left my shoulder to gently cup my chin. I noticed, to my delight, that his breath was as shaky as mine, but doubted he was the least bit nervous like me.

  “Kyle.”

  His name came out like a gasp and he captured it with a kiss that wasn’t slow and sweet like in so many of my romance novels, but heavy from waiting. I wrapped my arms around his waist, marveling at the feeling of muscle and bone hot against me.

  So this is what it’s like to kiss a younger, but very grown, man.

  He mumbled in my ear. “Joy, you are—” he pulled me closer and buried his chin in my hair and growled. “Incredible.” He captured my lips. “That kiss,” he said between pecks, “was worth waiting for, I guess.”

  Emboldened I ran my hands up his arms. “I had no idea what I was missing these last few decades.”

  He pulled back. “Decades?”

  Not the right thing to say?

  My face flooded with warmth. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”

  He gently cupped my face in his hands. “Are you serious? You haven’t kissed a man in that many years?”

  “Once.” I omitted the fact that it had happened recently and the fact that it had been Jimmy. “And of course there was Peter, on prom night, but you probably can tell. He’s on my team, not yours.”

  He chuckled. “Never mind about his team, how can it be that you haven’t been kissed properly for so many years?” He smoothed my hair back from my face and the way he looked into my eyes made me want to cry. “You are so beautiful. You should be kissed every day.”

  “It’s not as if anyone has been banging down my door asking me to dinner.” Although even as I said it, a list of dinner invitations from men at church and around the area scrolled through my mind. I blinked, realizing how my pining after Jimmy had kept me blinded to other chances at happiness, and maybe even love.

  He planted another kiss on my mouth. “I’m not complaining.” He whispered between kisses. “In fact, I think it’s sexy.”

  Sexy?

  The thought thrilled me.

  “If I’d known, I would have held back a little.” He gently brushed the hair back from my face.

  “Please, don’t—hold back I mean.”

  We kissed again after that and I let myself be swept away. Feelings I’d saved for an impossibly long time rose up. I wrapped my arms around his neck and wondered if I could let myself forget about Jimmy and fall for Doc. I wondered if my crush could turn into love. I let his kisses graze my neck and his hands smooth away my frazzled nerves, closer—much closer—to waking up the person I had glimpsed when I first woke up from my coma.

  “Kyle, I . . .”

  He placed a finger over my lips. “Sh-sh. Don’t say it. It’s too soon. Just feel it, Joy.”

  “Kyle—” I kissed him again. “I don’t want you to think I’m ready to—”

  “Don’t worry,” he said between kisses. “This is just practice.”

  “Practice for what?” I whispered.

  “When you’re ready, I’d sure like to show you.”

  His hands dropped to the curve of my hips, slid around to slip inside my back pockets and pulled me close.

  Oh!

  Thank goodness I’d bought those new jeans Ruthie made me try on.

  “And I’d like to show you for a long time to come.” His breath was hot on my neck.

  My knees went weak, just like in every romance novel I’d ever read.

  Okay, I may not be young anymore, but I still had dreams of wedding dresses, steeples, and a nice long honeymoon. Preferably by the ocean. Could I have that kind of thing with Kyle?

  A part of me, the part that loved Jimmy, wouldn’t allow me to abandon myself just yet, but as Kyle’s lips pressed against mine, his mouth warm and inviting, I glimpsed the possibility. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that it stirred a hope inside of me, and something else that I don’t think had anything to do with hope. Like I said in the very beginning, I’m not a saint.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  ‡

  “Aunt Joy, I thought you would fall for the mayor.” Ruthie touched the roses from Kyle that sat in the center of Momma’s big white table.

  “You don’t like Kyle, honey?”

  “Oh, I like him. He’s dreamy.” She leaned in to breathe in the roses. Their fragrance was so sweet, the kitchen smelled like a rose garden.

  “I’m just surprised. You and the mayor have some kind of . . . oh . . . I don’t know . . . electricity when you’re around each other.” She smiled. “Like sizzles.”

  A bright blue blotch bled onto the poster board from the force I’d pressed the marker with.

  “Darn,” I complained. How had Ruthie ever gotten that impression? And how would she know it’s the truth? Ruthie promptly took the marker and poster from me.

 
“It’s okay. I’ll fix it.” She drew a tulip around the blotch and colored it in, adding a green stem. “There.” She sat back.

  “A blue tulip for the Tulip House.”

  We were at the kitchen table making posters for the big fundraiser to top all fundraisers so far, which would be held at the Talley home. It would be a picnic style dinner with live country music and games for all and I was taking Reverend’s advice and raising the price for dinner by a dollar.

  The only sad part for me was, knowing that it could be the last party ever held at the house. The issue of the house had come back. The Lawyer, Mr. Littleton, had come over last week and urged me to make a decision. If we can’t find someone to lease the land to, we might lose it. I refused to sell, but couldn’t say no to a lease forever. My siblings and I just didn’t have the resources to make the mortgage payment and pay back Momma’s late payments and fees, as well.

  “So what about the mayor?”

  “We’re friends, honey. You know that. You were here when he visited, but he’s a widower. Sometimes widowers have a hard time moving on to someone new. I think maybe the mayor is like that, too.”

  “Every Sunday he asks how you are.”

  “That’s what people in the ministry do, honey. He’s the music leader, so he’s kind of like a reverend himself. He needs to ask about everybody because that’s his job.”

  “And he asks when I see him at Miss Donna’s, when he’s working on his car with Uncle River and Uncle Rory, and when I see him at the library.”

  My heart skipped a beat to think he cared enough to ask, but if he still thought about me the way that Ruthie had hoped, then he would have said something.

  “We are friends,” I said. “We’ll always be friends.”

  “Do men come visit you a lot, when they’re just friends?” Ruthie was standing at the window. I joined her. Jimmy was sitting in his over-sized truck, window down, talking to River and Rory in the driveway.

  I kept my tone even. “Sure, honey. Friends visit.”

  “Will Kyle get mad if he finds out?” The truth was, I didn’t know, but Ruthie’s questions were making me want to pull my hair out. Jimmy had continued to visit, even after it became apparent that I was spending time with Kyle. I didn’t think he was trying to get my attention. He was always looking for my brothers anyway. Or at least that’s what I’d thought.

  Maybe he really just wanted to know what I did with that dratted charm we hid in the chimney together. Could he still be thinking about it? Well, it was too late. He needed to forget about it, and so did I.

  I’m glad it’s gone.

  But even as I thought it, the feeling that it could never be gone seized my chest, squeezing the air from my lungs. I breathed in, the way Daddy showed me when I had panic attacks as a girl.

  Ruthie put her arm around me, and she sounded so mature that for a moment she could have been Nanette, instead of a teenage girl.

  “It’s not too, late, if you think you might have picked the wrong one.” Ruthie capped her marker and stacked the signs neatly in the center of the table. “Do you mind if I go up to the attic and read for a while?”

  I was relieved to have an opportunity with my own thoughts. “Sure. I’m just going to finish up the guest list. Grab some chocolate on your way up.” The committee had been meeting regularly and we decided that in addition to inviting the community at large to the fundraiser, we should send personal invitations to individuals of some notoriety in the region.

  I smiled as she called for Lucky to follow and trotted up to the attic.

  “I’ll just be reading.”

  And writing in your diary.

  I wondered if I should take a look in there, just in case.

  An engine roared and I turned back to the window. The boys watched Jimmy drive away before turning toward the porch. They both wore perplexed looks on their faces. I stood, placing my hands on my hips when they came in.

  “What’d Jimmy want?”

  “He said to say hi,” Rory said. “He asked how you were doing.”

  “Why didn’t he ask me himself?”

  “He had to get back to work and didn’t have time to come in.”

  River grabbed two beers from somewhere in the fridge that I’d missed. I hated having beer where Bobby could get a hold of it, so I tried to dump it out when one of my brother’s left it behind, but somehow they always managed to pull a beer out from somewhere.

  “So, what else did he want? Surely he didn’t come out just to check on me.” Rory and River shared a look, but they didn’t explain it to me.

  “You’re not going to like the other reason.”

  “Spit it out.”

  Chairs screeched across the hard wood floor and the men sat down at the kitchen table, knees wide.

  “He wants to buy this house,” Rory said.

  Anger prickled along the back of my ears. He abandoned me, kissed me while I was in a coma, kissed me while he dreamt of me in the balcony and forgot, and he doesn’t care at all that I’m dating a man more than ten years younger than him. Now, he suddenly thinks I would let him buy the house? He could’ve had it if he’d marry me. Crazy thoughts, I know, but I was so mad that strange things were flying around inside my head.

  “Is he crazy? What’s he want to do with it? Tear it down and build a new one? I mean, the repairs alone will be a fortune.”

  River took a long drink and set his can on the table. “He wants to save the house for you.”

  Me. Why?

  I gave them an incredulous look.

  “Oh, come on Sis. It’s not a secret. You announced to the whole family that you made out with him in the church balcony.”

  A decision I regret.

  “I’m dating Kyle.”

  “Good ole Doc,” River said. I tossed my dish towel onto the counter and plopped down in the chair. I didn’t feel like discussing my love life with the boys. I went for changing the topic.

  “How much is he willing to pay?”

  “As much as you need, Sis.” River tilted his head back and drained his beer. The blood drained from my face.

  I paced the kitchen. “That man drives me crazy. I don’t trust him.”

  River raised his eyebrows. “Sit down. Let’s think about this.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  River stood and escorted me to a chair. I sat down, albeit begrudgingly.

  Rory opened a can of beer and handed it to me. He didn’t blink an eye when I took a swig. It tasted worse than I expected.

  “I’ve never seen you this upset, Sis.”

  I drained the can.

  “Me neither,” said River. “What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head, but couldn’t even begin to tell them. Jimmy hadn’t marched into the kitchen, told me he loved me, and only then offered to help me buy the house.

  Rory leaned forward. “What is it with you and Jimmy? He wants to help you out of this mess before the lawyer really starts giving you a hard time. He wouldn’t offer that if—well, you know. If he didn’t care or something.”

  Honesty with River and Rory? I couldn’t imagine sharing such deep complexities with my brothers. Now, don’t get me wrong. They’re not stupid. They are just, well, as I’ve said before, they’re tool and dye sharp, not book smart. Of course, they might not be helpful about man troubles, but maybe we could settle something else.

  “That’s right,” River said. “Maybe we can help you.”

  I belched. They laughed.

  I thought about what they would do if I told them the truth about Jimmy, what happened to me—and to him, to be honest. The boys were staring at me, expectantly.

  They were big boys. They were protective. And their cuteness really belied their capacity for anger. They might misunderstand what happened. Not even Jimmy with all his strength would be able to save himself from my brothers.

  Scary.

  It was best to give them something, but not
that.

  “I’ve been seeing Daddy a lot in my dreams.”

  “That’s good,” Rory said. I laughed, surely I misunderstood him. “Really, I mean it. I’m glad to know the old man is watching over you. Lord knows you are too much of a handful for your brothers to keep up with.”

  I punched him hard in the arm. My fist just bounced off, so I leaned over and gave him a big long hug and when I noticed Rory smiling, but looking a bit jealous, I hugged him too.

  “So much has changed since we were kids,” Rory said.

  River scoffed. “But everything changes too slowly. Things move slower here than molasses, you know.”

  Oh sweet molasses. It sure does.

  “But things do change,” I said. “I mean, look at the new beautiful chimney you boys built. If Momma were here, I wonder if she’d put new charms in it?”

  Both were quiet. The boys sat frozen, their beers clasped in their hands, boots planted wide on the floor, eyes staring at the hardwood. The breeze blew through the cotton curtains, lifting them like a ghost blowing in from the past. Rory shifted in his chair.

  “Faith says we got to forget about all those charms and stuff. Says we should’ve never let the chimney get that way in the first place.”

  “Sweet positive Faith,” River said. “You have a good wife. She would say something like that, as if we had a choice.”

  I guess River should’ve left it at that, but maybe he’d had one beer too many because then he said, “Someone like Faith wouldn’t understand anyway.”

  “Someone like Faith?” Rory’s eyes turned dark and stormy.

  “Someone whose had a charmed life, without a chimney filled with them.” River sat his can on the table beside the other empties.

  Rory looked like he might hit River, so I placed my hand over his arm. “That’s not true, River. Faith hasn’t had a charmed life at all.”

  “Heck no, it ain’t true. You all don’t know it, but the first time she got pregnant, she lost it.”

  Holy Moses. How did I miss this?

  I pressed my hand over my mouth while River clasped Rory’s shoulder.

  “Bro, why didn’t you say something?”

 

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