Rejoice (10 page)

“But I meant well; is that it?” Her eyes held that familiar shine. “Is that what you mean by
honor?”

“Mmm-hmm.” He started to kiss her, just as Tommy spit his bottle out and began to fuss. Luke leaned closer to the stroller and made a funny face for their baby’s benefit. Tommy giggled and waved his hands in the air. “Is that right?” Luke pretended to give him a few serious shakes of the head. “So that’s what you think about all this stopping and starting, huh?”

He shot a quick look at Reagan and raised a single finger in her direction. “Hold that thought.” Then he bent down and repositioned the bottle until Tommy had it in his mouth again.

“As we were saying . . .” His lips found hers again. “Did I mention I like this part of talking?”

Reagan laughed and pulled back. “Finish, Luke . . . you were saying something about honor.”

“Right.” He relaxed his hold on her. “An honoring kind of love puts the other person first. And that’s what I want to do for you, Reagan.”

“Right now?” She was playing with him, savoring the moment the way he wanted her to. “Because I think Tommy needs a new diaper.”

“No.” He kissed her one more time, long enough to leave her breathless. Then he looked past the moment into a future he couldn’t wait to start with her. “Not for right now, silly.” His tone was soft, serious. “For the rest of our lives.”

Chapter Ten

The firefighter by Ashley’s side was more handsome than ever.

And growing taller all the time.

Cole adjusted his Halloween costume and slipped the plastic face mask over his eyes. “Think they’ll recognize me, Mom?”

“Nope.” Ashley pictured Irvel and Edith and Helen, already gathered around the breakfast table. “Definitely not, Cole.” She patted the top of his helmet. “They’ll think you’re a real fireman, for sure.”

He puffed his small chest out as the two of them walked up to Sunset Hills’s front door. Ashley had an hour of paperwork, and Cole wanted someone to admire his look. Ashley’s mother had picked up the costume when she was shopping in Indianapolis this past weekend. It was nicer than most firefighter costumes. Real canvas coat and pants, and stencil marks that made it a close replica of the uniforms worn by the FDNY.

“Just like Landon!” Cole had danced around when his grandmother gave him the package. “Now me and him can be twins!”

Ashley had ignored the way Landon’s name made her heart hurt. Instead, she admired the costume and agreed that yes, in the little uniform he was the mirror image of Landon Blake.

The novelty hadn’t worn off in the days since. Cole had worn the costume everywhere except to bed, and now that Ashley had errands to run this morning, he insisted on coming with her, dressed as Firefighter Cole.

Ashley turned the door handle and let Cole go in front of her. “Not too loud.”

He peered at her through the helmet’s protective shield. “Okay!”

The pants bunched up around his knees and ankles, but he moved as fast as his legs would carry him. “Hello, everybody.” He tore into the dining room before Ashley could stop him. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll save you!”

“Cole . . .” Ashley was only a few feet behind him, but it was too late.

Edith covered the top of her head as if the ceiling were falling on her. “Help . . . help . . . help . . .”

“Now!” Helen slammed the palms of both hands onto the tabletop. “Stop that man! Stop him right now.”

“Excuse me.” Irvel tapped Helen on the arm. “I believe your gentleman caller is shorter than before.”

“Hi, everybody!” Cole’s voice was muffled beneath the play helmet.

“Good morning.” Ashley put her hand on his shoulder and smiled at the ladies. It was time to bring order back to the breakfast hour. “Cole wanted you to see his Halloween costume.”

“He’s a spaceman!” Helen looked at the others around the table. “Spacemen are dangerous, I tell you. Dangerous! We can’t have spacemen in the house. Who’s going to check him?”

Edith’s eyes were wide, and she leaned hard in the opposite direction of Cole. Her voice was a quiet whimper. “Save me . . . save me, someone. Save me.”

“I’ll save you, Edith!” Cole took a step closer, but Ashley jerked him back beside her.

“Cole, honey, they don’t understand.” She whispered near the ear of his helmet. “They have a hard time making sense of things, remember?”

“Help.” Edith’s eyes were completely round now, the single word a pathetic squeak.

“Shhh.” Ashley stepped in front of Cole. “It’s okay, Edith. You’re safe now.”

“Spacemen are never safe.” Helen crossed her arms and huffed. “Someone check that little man.” She stomped her foot. “He needs to be checked!”

Irvel looked at Ashley and smiled. “What planet did you say you were from, dear?”

“Planet?” Usually Ashley had an answer for her friends at Sunset Hills, but this conversation was still far from under control. “I’m from down the street, Irvel. I’ve already been checked.”

“Oh.” Irvel studied Ashley as though she were seeing her for the first time. “Well you do have lovely hair; I’ll give you that.” She pointed at Helen. “But Gertrude here said you were from outer space.” She made a polite lift of her napkin and dabbed around her mouth. “Of course, Hank doesn’t like me cavorting with space people. Not while he’s fishing.”

“Who’s Gertrude?” Helen snapped the comment at Irvel and then sneered in Ashley’s direction. “The old bird’s lost her marbles; that’s what I think.”

Irvel smiled at Cole and gave him a quick wink. “I like marbles; how ’bout you?”

“Yeah.” Cole’s eyes lit up. “Marbles are great! Especially the clear ones with the sparklies inside.”

“Yes, dear boy. Exactly.” Irvel gave Cole an emphatic nod. Then she leaned close as if this part was for Cole alone. “That Gertrude next to me, she doesn’t like marbles.”

“Oh.” Cole raised his eyebrows.

Ashley was about to intervene, when Irvel frowned at Helen. “You know . . . Hank doesn’t care much for Gertrude. Too violent.” Then she tapped Helen’s hand again. “Listen dear, you better hurry.”

“Hurry for what?” Helen slammed her fist onto the table. Her fork spun around on the edge of her plate, teetered for a moment, and fell onto the floor. “I’m not going anywhere until someone gives me a mask. If he gets a mask, we should all have a mask, and if we all have a mask then she should—”

“Excuse me.” Irvel made a dainty cough so Helen would stop shouting. “Your gentleman caller is shrinking.”

“Cole . . .” Ashley brought her face close to his. “Take off the helmet. Maybe that’ll help.”

“Okay.”

She could make out Cole’s grin from behind the plastic shield. He whisked off the helmet and tucked it beneath his arm. The move was fluid and natural, the same way she’d seen Landon remove his helmet on the times they’d visited him at his fire station.

“See . . .” Cole’s voice was bright and cheerful. “I’m a firefighter, not a spaceman!”

At that moment, Bert came shuffling into the room. He looked from Cole to Ashley and back again. “Fire?”

“No, Bert.” Ashley went to him and helped him the last few steps to the table. “No fire.”

“Fire!” Helen raised her voice. “The kitchen’s on fire!” She pointed at the place where Maria was working on the dishes. “See . . . flames everywhere! Taking over the place. Big flames!” Her tone changed and her eyes filled with fear. “Help! Someone put out the flames!”

The others looked toward the kitchen, and Irvel leaned close to Ashley. “Maybe she needs her medicine.”

“Yes, Irvel.” Ashley bit her lip to keep control. “Maybe she does.” She winked at Cole. “Okay, partner. Time to try out the costume.”

Helen was still shouting about the flames and how come no one was putting them out. Cole had to struggle to hear her. “What should I do, Mommy?”

“Pretend you have a hose and you’re putting out the fire in the kitchen.”

Cole shot a quick look at the kitchen. “But there’s no fire.”

“I know.” She nudged his arm. “Pretend.”

A grin spread across Cole’s face, and he mustered up as serious an expression as he could. “Don’t worry! I’ll put out the fire!” He held up a pretend hose and sprayed pretend water toward Maria and the kitchen.
“Shhhhhh . . .”
He continued the sound effects until everyone around the table was quiet, mesmerized by the drama at hand.

Finally Cole let his hands fall to his side. Out of breath from the effort, he turned and smiled at Helen. “The fire’s out.”

For once, Helen was speechless. She sat back in her chair and looked at her half-eaten scrambled eggs.

“Well.” Irvel brushed the crumbs off her hands and took hold of her teacup. “That was exciting.”

“Help. Help . . . help . . . help.” Edith studied the palms of her hands, turned them over and studied the backs, and then started with the palms again. “Help.”

“I think she has a splinter, Mom.” Worry spilled into Cole’s voice.

“No, honey, she’s just tired.”

Maria folded the dish towel, set it near the sink, and joined them, taking the nod from Ashley. “Come on, Edith; let’s get you cleaned up.”

The two women left, and Irvel tapped Helen’s arm again. “Gertrude, dear, I think you’ve offended your gentleman caller.” She dropped her voice to a whisper and pointed nervously in Cole’s direction. “His head . . . he’s lost his head!”

Helen glared at Irvel and flapped her arms like a bird. “Crazy old goose!” The fire danger forgotten, Helen pounded her fist—this time against her knee. “Ouch!”

“Excuse me.” Irvel looked at Ashley this time. She made a subtle attempt at pointing to Cole without being noticed. “I think Gertrude scared that little man. Could you help him, dear? His head fell off.”

The moment Maria was back in the room, Ashley directed Cole down the hallway. “Okay, so maybe letting you in here with your costume wasn’t the brightest idea.” She ushered him into the office. “You can watch cartoons in here.”

“But, Mom, they liked me.”

“Yeah, I could tell.” She blew at her wispy bangs and cleared a stack of paperwork so Cole could sit on the oversized office chair. “They always act like that when they’re having fun.”

Cole giggled. “I liked putting out the fire.”

“I thought you would.”

Ashley flicked the channels until she found an old Mighty Mouse cartoon. “Okay, buddy. Sit tight. I’ll be done in a minute.”

“Can I watch it with my helmet on?”

“Hmmm.” Ashley put her hands on her hips. “You won’t be able to see as good.”

“That’s okay; please, Mom?” He lifted the helmet up, waiting for her permission. “Firefighters can’t always see good.”

“True.” She lowered her chin to her chest, teasing him. “Okay, Firefighter Cole, go ahead.”

He slid the helmet over his head and put the plastic shield in place. “Thanks, Mom.” His words were garbled.

“Wait a minute.” She lifted the shield and planted a kiss on his forehead. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Back at her desk, she paused a moment and studied him, her little firefighter, lost in the oversized costume, watching cartoons. The moment made her long for an easel and a paintbrush.

Her work that day was fairly mindless. Plan the schedule for the coming week and make a list of supplies they needed. The tasks gave her time to think about Landon. He would’ve loved Cole’s costume, and the thought gave her an idea. Maybe she should take his picture and send it to him.

But wouldn’t that give him the exact message she was trying to avoid? That she still thought of him, still wanted him involved in Cole’s life? in hers? She stared out the window at the almost-bare trees. A windstorm had passed through a few days earlier, and the leaves that had looked so brilliant a week ago now covered the ground.

God, why can’t I get him out of my heart? I want to let him go; you know that. But everything reminds me of him.
She glanced at Cole again.
Everything . . .

A memory filled her senses. She and Landon having dinner in New York City the night he had asked her to marry him. She’d told him that it wasn’t possible, that she could never subject him to a life of uncertainty, a life of misery and loss. But he’d been determined. Even now, with Mighty Mouse playing in the background, she could hear his voice from that night, see his face.

“I want to marry you, Ashley. We’ll find a way to make it work; we have to . . . no matter what happens.”

She sighed and concentrated on the list in front of her. A gallon of bleach, three rolls of paper towels, a pack of sponges . . . the words on the list blurred.

Did Landon still feel that way, that he’d marry her no matter what? Or was he rethinking the situation because of her cool behavior and her determination to battle her health issues alone?

She still hadn’t decided on a doctor or a treatment plan. Instead she spent hours on the Internet, reading about ways to build her immune system. She was taking nearly twenty daily vitamins and herbs, but it wasn’t enough. She knew that.

Her father talked to her about it often. “You need to get in, see a doctor, Ashley. The medicine out there can keep you healthy for a long time.”

But the medicine had side effects. Swelling and weight gain, and who knew what else. Besides, there was another reason why she hadn’t sought treatment. The moment she did, she would have to admit that things were different. For the rest of her life she’d be an HIV patient, fighting for one more year, one more month.

The notion was exhausting.

Ashley turned back to the list in front of her. Liquid soap, laundry detergent . . .

The phone rang, and Ashley jumped. Sunset Hills didn’t get many calls. She picked up the phone and clicked the On button.

“Hello?” She doodled an
L
at the top of the supply list.

“Hello, madam. Is this Sunset Hills Adult Care Home?”

“It is.” Ashley scribbled a lazy
A
next to the
L.

“Good. This is Henry Wellington the third, and I’m looking for a quiet place to live.”

“I’m sorry . . .” The voice was vaguely familiar, but Ashley didn’t recognize the name. “I’m afraid we don’t have any openings at this time.”

“I see. Well, I won’t need a bed for another two months. My memory is fading faster than a fall sunset.”

Strange. Usually the initial call came from a doctor or relative. Ashley couldn’t remember ever receiving a call from a prospective patient. “Two months?”

“Yes . . . two months. At least I think I’ll need it in two months. I have trouble remembering.”

Ashley thought about the woman at the far end of the house. Her doctor had said she’d be moved to a nursing facility in six weeks. Ashley flipped the pad of paper to a blank page and positioned her pencil. “Actually, that might work. Tell me a little bit about yourself.”

“I don’t know much anymore.” The man sounded older with every few words. “But I have one memory I’ll never lose.”

Ashley twisted her face.
What in the world?
“Did you want to tell me about the memory, sir?”

“Yes, I’d like that.” He drew a long, slow breath. “In my mind I see a beautiful girl . . . a girl who can paint masterpieces. A girl with the most beautiful hair . . .”

“Is that so . . . ?” It was a trick; Ashley knew it now. But she still couldn’t make out the voice. Was it Luke? or her father? “Tell me more.”

“It’s too tragic, really. She never loved me, poor Henry Wellington.”

“No?”

“No . . . because she was always in love with this firefighter in New York City.”

A smile filled Ashley’s face. “Landon?”