Authors: Mimi Barbour
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Short Stories & Anthologies, #Short Stories, #Romance, #Romantic Comedy, #Time Travel, #Two Hours or More (65-100 Pages), #Single Authors
“Soon, when I can hold you in my arms, I’ll be as happy as you.”
Carrie sighed.
“Touching and being touched will be so different. I’ll be able to pleasure you in return. Now, it seems such a selfish interaction between us. I’m in heaven and you’re left behind.”
“Not true, Sweetheart. It’s as wonderful for me and a lot less exhausting. But you need your beauty rest; we have a busy day tomorrow. We actually get to meet in person for the first time.”
“I hope you like me.”
Whispered words resounded behind her closed eyes.
“I love you.”
The next morning, three happy people pushed a silent figure down the street in his wheelchair. To be absolutely certain there wouldn’t be any hitches, they’d waited until the precise time of the original incident to repeat it.
They set up the scene, and this time Carrie pricked her finger first, then passed the same rose to the doctor, who pricked Rhett’s finger. They sat in the exact places as previously.
She felt a faint movement in the body balanced next to hers, and she held her breath. All three watched closely as the inert body returned to the land of the living. First Rhett’s eyes opened slowly, fluttered closed, then popped open again. Next he tried lifting his head. Within scant seconds it flopped down again, with his chin resting on his chest.
“Don’t rush things, Rhett. Go slow. Take your time.” The doctor was on his knees in front of the semiconscious man.
Next to the doctor, Ashley was on his knees also, his eyes popping in near disbelief at what was happening. Joyful tears gushed unrestrained as he expressed his stunned amazement at the phenomenon he’d just witnessed. His head bobbed up and down and he chattered encouragement.
“Absolutely fantastic! You can do it, Rhett. Come back to us. You can do it.”
Carrie sat quietly beside her lover, whispering prayers of thankfulness. Within a short span of time, maybe one minute, maybe five, Rhett turned to her. She finally got to look into his sleepy blue portals, where she saw love flaming in their depths.
“Hello, Sweetheart,” he croaked. His rusty voice was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard.
“You’re back. I’m so glad.” Her happy tears flowed, while embarrassed tears still lurked in Ashley’s eyes, and happy relief showed all over Doctor Andrews’ face. Rhett’s visage was lit with pure joy.
All Carrie’s secret fears disappeared. Rhett was back. He remembered her and their feelings for one another and what they’d shared. She’d known for certain he remembered, as soon as he looked her way and spoke. Her inside emptiness seemed a small price to pay for the happiness embellishing the face of the re-emerging person. The transformation was a success. Her lover was once more his own man.
It would take days for Rhett’s physical weakness to dissipate completely. Thankfully, he’d had the best of care and was still quite strong, but the travelling had taken its toll.
Later that day, Carrie explained to Rhett that she needed to return home. He was very weak and couldn’t talk easily, but he groaned with frustration.
“Darling, I must check up on the Poppets, and I do have to return to work. You’re in very capable hands with Ashley and Dr. Andrews looking after you. Besides, it’ll give you time to be sure of your sentiments about us. I know how you felt before, but things could be different for you now, and you need to reconsider your choices.”
***
She needn’t have worried about the old dears, as they were in good form and more content with each other than she could ever remember. Gran’s smiling face and her granddad’s unusual, good-natured grins told her that the change they’d instigated the week before had continued. They were happy to see their girl home safe and sound, although she knew they were concerned about her paleness and preoccupation.
She had no contact with Rhett, as he couldn’t call, but she had expected that. Because everything had happened so quickly, she knew a cooling-off period wouldn’t hurt, especially for him. After all, he’d been imprisoned inside her through no fault of his own. Just maybe he’d reacted to her with love because he’d had to be so dependent on her. She felt it only fair to give him a bit of breathing room so he could make the choice—did he really want her?
Carrie resumed her place in her classroom the next day, and the time crept slowly. Her second day back at work, she found Robert sitting at his desk with the happiest expression she’d ever witnessed on his gaunt face. Once the class settled down, she called him to the front.
“Hello, Miss. It’s right glad I am ter see ya.”
“Thank you, dear. I’m happy to be back, and I must say how pleased I am that you’re here in school.”
“Not to worry, Miss. From now on I’ll be at me desk every day. Me da’s won a mittfull. A letter came by a special messenger, and there was a cheque in it from a bank overseas saying me da’s rich. A cousin he never even heard of went and left him a fortune, Miss. It’s that exciting, it is.”
His small hand found hers and they held onto each other, secreted from the others’ view by the huge, scarred, wooden desk.
Carrie sighed with pleasure. “What brilliant news! I’m happy for you and your family, Robert. Very happy indeed.”
“Do you believe in angels, Miss Temple? ‘Cause, ya know, I asked the angels to help us, and they’ve answered me.”
“Yes, Robert. I believe there are angels. In fact, I know one personally.”
Two long days alone in her body had been absolute hell. She missed Rhett’s essence, his voice, and the lovemaking—she missed the lovemaking most.
Robert was his answer, his special messenger. He would come. She knew it now, for sure. Anticipation built. Her eyes glowed, as did her skin, while happiness zinged around her like electricity from a live wire. Second and third glances followed her everywhere she went. She was not their old Carrie; there was a palpable difference.
That evening he appeared. The doorbell rang and her granddad answered. He looked up at the tall, handsome, well-dressed stranger. “You’ll be here to see Carrie, I’ll wager.”
The nervous man, clutching an armful of long-stemmed red roses enclosing a single white bloom in their midst, nodded. “You’d win,” he said. He stepped into the hall as the old man waved him in. He moved gracefully for his size. His suit, his grooming, his whole appearance shouted money and power.
Carrie had heard the doorbell. She flew down the stairs right into his open arms. The old man discreetly backed into the kitchen and winked at his wife as he closed the door.
The old woman asked, “Is he here, then?”
“Yep.”
***
Rhett’s lips on hers breathed the missing essence back into her lonely heart. She whimpered and kissed him back.
Finally he broke contact and said, “I’ve missed you so much, Sweetheart.” His voice caressed her as much from the outside as it had while inside.
“Rhett, you did understand why I left? You needed time to get strong and resume your life after what you’d been through. I wanted to give you that time, but it’s been hellish staying away.”
“Carrie, I missed you every single moment. I kept talking to you in my mind, but you weren’t there. I hated it. I came as soon as I felt strong enough to hold you in my arms and not fall over.”
“I knew you’d come tonight, as soon as I talked to Robert today at school. It was like a sign. Thank you for being such a dear man and helping his family.”
“He’s a cute little guy. I liked him. And he has great taste in women.”
He kissed her again, and again. Breathing wasn’t an option and, frankly, she didn’t give a damn.
2007
The attractive older couple snuggled on the bench in front of the ancient vicarage, their arms wrapped tightly around each other. Tears mingled. They kissed over and over.
“Please, Carrie. I can’t take this any longer. Let me go. Help me!”
“Yes, you’re right, my darling. Soon you’ll be with me again.”
Positioned on her knee was a beautiful white rose. She gathered it up and pricked her finger first. And then she pricked his. In the next instant, she propped up the man’s dead weight, holding him tightly. His brother moved forward and stopped him from falling to the ground.
“Rhett?”
Her insides, a quivering mess until now, exploded with joy when she clearly heard his voice inside her head.
“I’m here, Sweetheart.”
Las Vegas, 1969
A fist smashed into his cheek, cut his lip, and shoved his face to the left while the two punks holding his arms kept him upright. He shook his head for a second, then glared at the man watching.
“Joey, I’m warning you, don’t do this. You’ll regret it.” Blood poured from Ashley Parks’ mouth. His eyes were two chips of ice even as the swelling around them started to show.
“Shut up, Mr. Bigshot! You think you can tempt my girls away to your fancy casino and get away with it forever? I warned you what was gonna happen to you if you hired another one of my chicks, and you didn’t listen to me, did ya, smartass? Hit him again, Arnie.”
One of the men grabbed both his arms behind him as the other stepped in front of Ash with his arm held in slug position. Ash had only a moment to check out the smallest, meanest eyes, deep-set and too close together in a slack-jawed face as ugly as they come. The big bruiser’s smile displayed the black holes that emphasized his rotten teeth.
“Hi, Arnie.” Ashley tried to be cordial, but it backfired.
Without an ounce of emotion, Arnie’s fist burrowed into Ashley’s stomach. If it weren’t for the fact that he was in good shape from working out every day, he’d be in trouble. But it hurt like hell, and he hated pain, especially when it wasn’t deserved. Anger built. The feeling stunned him. It wasn’t a sensation he was accustomed to, as he rarely got mad. Life ranged from jokingly easy to always a laugh, and being rich and good-looking accentuated Ashley’s ideal existence.
Ash worked with his brother in one of the smaller but highly elite casinos in Las Vegas. He handled everything from personnel to high rollers. The hundreds of gorgeous young females who worked in the hotel, from cocktail waitresses to room maids, were his responsibility. The ladies loved his wit, his old-fashioned chivalry, and the way he seemed to care about each and every one of them. He was a dream manager, a big draw to the girls flooding into Vegas looking for a job.
“For heaven’s sake, you idiot. I didn’t hire your girls away—they came to us, begging for work. You treat them like crap. How can you expect them to stay? Come on, Joey. You know my brother’s wife Carrie is a softy. She’ll help anyone who comes to her with a sob story, and the word’s out there on the Strip; they all know to look her up. Rhett is putty in her hands and won’t refuse her anything. And, hey, I only do as I’m told.”
“Rhett’s a pussy. Why can’t he control the dumb broad?”
“Why don’t you have this conversation with him, and ask him yourself?”
“Shut your mouth.”
Joey tried to meet Ashley’s gaze after the gauntlet had been thrown down, but he couldn’t. The only reason Joey was making this play was because Rhett had taken Carrie for a month’s holiday in England. No way would he mess with Ash’s big brother—no way, not with
that
man!
“Look, business is business. I like you, Ash, but I gotta answer to Big Dave. He’s my boss, and he’d be after my hide if he thought I couldn’t control his stable.”
“If you handled your women better, paid them decently, we wouldn’t be having this meeting right now. And for your information, I can’t say I’m enjoying it very much.”
Hanging between Joey’s two henchmen with his face all cut up didn’t cure Ashley’s tendency to be a smart mouth, not at all. His cheeky grin could be his undoing. But he hadn’t felt so alive for a long while, and he was almost to the point where he’d make his move and put a stop to this nonsense. He knew he could take the two patsies holding him, but he couldn’t be sure if Joey was carrying. If he was, things could get pretty dicey. He sure as hell didn’t want to get shot on top of the beating he’d just taken.
“I’m not askin’ ya, Ash, I’m telling ya. Enough is enough! This time we’ll rough you up a bit, but the next time we’ll be putting you out of action—or should I say into traction—for a long time. But for now it’s just a lesson, so you’d better smarten up, pal, or life could get a lot tougher.” The seriousness of his threat rang through, loud and clear.