Remembering Christmas (22 page)

“Like what?”

“The doctor said whenever they fiddle with the brain, there’s no telling what might happen. They were preparing me for the possibility that you wouldn’t even know who I was.”

Art smiled. “Leanne, do you remember when we ate eggs Benedict made with crabmeat in that outdoor courtyard in Charleston?”

“That little café off Meeting Street,” she said.

“The coffee was almost as good as yours,” he said. “Almost.”

“Our fifth wedding anniversary trip.”

“The azaleas blooming all around us, remember? The dogwoods?”

“And that jasmine.”

“Especially at night, the smell. Remember that smell?”

She remembered it all. And so did he. Thank you, Lord. So did he.

“Leanne,” he said. “I would never forget you. I’d forget who I am before I’d forget you.”

Rick locked the front door to the store. Andrea waited for him on the sidewalk. It had been a good day. Best sales day so far. Best conversations with Andrea so far.

It was time to try again.

He walked up the steps. “Going to pick up Amy?”

She nodded. “I can’t believe I’ve got to go home and fix dinner. I’m so tired.”

Perfect. Like she was lobbing a softball right to him. “I am too. Tell you what, why don’t you let me help? They’ve got these places, just like the diner, except these places fix dinners. We don’t have to do a thing, just show up.”

“I don’t think so, Rick. I’ve got to get Amy.”

“What, you thought I meant we’d leave her out? These places feed kids too.” Rick could see it in her eyes. She wasn’t buying it.

“I don’t think so.”

“You sure? You said you were tired.”

“I am.” She was backing up.

“Don’t have to go anywhere fancy. We could go to HoJo’s, where I’m staying. They serve these terrible clam dinners, but the ice cream is delicious.”

“I’m not looking for, I mean . . . I don’t want Amy to get the wrong impression.”

You mean, you don’t want me to get the wrong impression
. “We could get her a sitter.” Now, he was begging.

“Thanks, Rick. Maybe another time.”

“All right. See you tomorrow.”

She smiled, waved, turned and headed for her car.

What was he thinking?
Maybe another time
. She wasn’t interested. Not now. Not that way. And he wasn’t interested in being humiliated again.

She didn’t have to worry. There wouldn’t be another time.

Andrea sighed heavily. She put on her seat belt, turned on the car, and looked in the rearview mirror. Rick was getting into his car. She waited a moment as he turned it on, pulled out onto the road, and passed her by.

She waved. He just looked straight ahead.

She had hurt him this time, she could feel it, see it in his eyes. But what else could she do? They still seemed worlds apart, on everything that mattered most to her. She couldn’t think of a way to talk about it that wouldn’t come off sounding like she thought she was better than he was; “holier than thou,” as they say.

But she couldn’t afford to feel what she was starting to feel for him. She couldn’t allow herself to become just the latest in his long line of conquests. She pulled out onto the road and drove a few blocks before she realized she was heading in the wrong direction. That’s right, she had to pick up Amy.

Amy . . . she was more than half the reason Andrea knew she had to keep putting Rick off. She had resolved some time ago that she wouldn’t put Amy through a long line of boyfriends and fake daddies just to satisfy her craving for love and a little romance. She’d tried that the first two years after Amy had been born.

She was so glad Amy was too young to remember.

But Andrea would never let herself forget.

It was Wednesday afternoon, a little after 3:00 p.m. Rick’s mom had called at noon, the happiest he’d heard her since this whole thing with Art had begun. The doctors had given the green light to transfer him back to the smaller ICU in Seabreeze. She said they’d be on the road around 1:00 p.m. Rick looked at his watch. That meant they’d be arriving in an hour or two.

She was even more excited that Art was awake and talking again. As far as she could tell, there had been no permanent brain damage. At least in terms of his speech, memory, and personality. She said all kinds of other things could pop up down the road.

The telephone rang. He walked toward the front counter and picked it up. “The Book Nook, Rick speaking.”

“Hi, Rick, it’s Andrea.”

“Hey, Andrea.”

“Guess you heard about your mom and Art coming into town.”

“Should be here in an hour or two would be my guess.”

“That’s why I’m calling. Your mom asked if I could stop by the house and get a short list of things for her and bring them out to the hospital after the store closes. But I thought I’d skip coming in today, unless you’re real busy, and go by the house now. Maybe I could spruce things up a little, see if she needs any laundry done.”

“That’s very kind of you, Andrea. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it. Things are fine here. Had a big rush during lunch, but it’s been one or two at a time since then.”

“Okay, good.” She hesitated a few moments.

“Anything else?” he asked.

“No, guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“All right, see you then.” He hung up.

No sense pretending, trying to keep the conversation alive. He decided to busy himself with a little project he’d started over the last few days. He’d remembered how to set up the books for a very small company from a school project he’d done years ago. He’d been keeping Art’s whacked-out system running but started a whole new setup for him to try once he felt up to it. It was so simple, a monkey could maintain it.

He was less certain you could teach an old monkey new tricks.

Art was sound asleep. But that was okay. He was just asleep. The doctor had given him a mild sedative for the ride home. He assured Leanne that Art should wake right up when it wore off. He was back in the same ICU room in Seabreeze he’d been in before they’d left for Shands. Holly had gotten him all squared away. Dr. Halper had already been in to make sure all his numbers were good and everything was working as it should.

He still suggested that after Art woke up to keep him calm, keep the noise to a minimum. But he felt they could let in some light from the window. Just the sliver coming in now seemed as bright as the sunrise compared to what it had been.

Holly poked her head in the doorway. “Got a visitor. A friend named Andrea. She’s in the waiting room.”

“Thanks, dear. I’ll be right there.” Leanne had been expecting this. Andrea had called from the house about a half hour ago, asking if she could have a private chat with her after she dropped off the things she brought from the house. Leanne wondered what to expect, hoped nothing sour had happened between Andrea and Rick down at the store.

“Hello?” Leanne said, peeking her head in the waiting room door. She was glad to find it empty except for Andrea.

“Leanne?” Andrea rushed toward her and gave her a big hug. When she pulled back, her eyes were full of tears. “I’ve missed you so much, and I’ve been so worried about Art, about the both of you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Andrea. But we’re doing okay, really.” Leanne pulled a tissue from a Kleenex box on the corner table and gave it to her. “Looks like God’s going to let me keep Art a while longer.”

“I’m so glad. Is he awake yet?”

“No, but he should be soon.”

“Okay, then I won’t keep you.” She backed up and sat in a chair. “Oh, here are the things you asked for.”

Leanne took the bag and sat beside her. She didn’t want to hurry her, but she really wanted to be there when Art woke up. “Thanks so much for doing that . . . so what’s up?”

“This is going to be a strange conversation for me. I’ve been trying to think about the best way to say it.”

“Andrea, don’t be nervous. You can talk to me. I may be much older, but we’re also friends.”

“Leanne, you’ve been the best friend to me. Better than anyone.” She inhaled deeply. “It’s about Rick. I’m so confused.” She dabbed her eyes.

“What’s the matter?”

“He’s asked me out to dinner twice since we’ve been working together.”

“Oh.” Leanne wasn’t really surprised to hear this. “What did you say?”

“No . . . both times. As gently as I could.”

Leanne expected this too. “Did Rick respond badly?”

“No, but I could see he was hurt, and I don’t want to hurt him.”

“I can’t see him staying hurt for too long. He’s planning on heading back to Charlotte soon, right?”

“That’s one thing on my list of reasons for saying no. I can’t go out with someone casually. I won’t do that to Amy, even if I wanted to.”

Leanne asked, “Do you want to? Is that why you’re confused?”

“See? You always know what I’m thinking.” The tears came again. She pushed some back, wiped away others. “The first time I said no, it was easy. Last night . . . I really wanted to say yes. But it’s so wrong.
He
is so wrong for me in so many ways.” She looked up into Leanne’s eyes. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. He’s your son.”

“Don’t apologize, Andrea. I agree with you.”

“You do?”

“I love Rick, but . . . so far I haven’t seen any signs that he’s ready to settle down. And you need that.”

“I do. I need a guy who doesn’t want to just date me. Unless he’s serious about wanting to get to know me, and because he . . .”

“Wants to marry you?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t need to apologize for that. I think that’s God’s will for you at this point in your life. You don’t want to do that to Amy, parading this guy and that guy in front of her, just so you can have fun.”

“I don’t. I
really
don’t.”

“Of course, you don’t. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“And I’m also concerned about . . . his lack of faith. I want a man who is serious about the Lord. Do you know where he’s at with God?”

Leanne knew this was coming. “I wish I did, Andrea. I’ve been praying for him for years. So has Art. He seemed to have an experience with God, shortly after I did. But he was much younger then, his first year of junior high, I think. But he started pulling away from me after Art and I got together. About the same time, he started pulling away from God too. To be honest, that’s been my biggest concern for him working down at the store. How he’d react being totally surrounded by Christians every day. I just decided God must know what he’s doing, because I had no one else to call who could also handle the money side of things.”

“Well, I don’t know what God’s doing in Rick’s heart,” Andrea said. “He does seem to have changed some since the first day. He’s a little . . . softer, I guess. Easier to talk to. But I’d need to know he’s got a lot more than that going on before I’d feel okay starting a relationship with him.”

“I understand. I’m right there with you on this.”