Not Through Loving You by Patricia Preston (14)

At the Country Corner Café, the lunch crowd dispersed after the noon hour passed, and Lia managed to get a window table that offered a view of Court Square with a profusion of roses blooming on either side of the old courthouse. She sat at the table waiting on Gilda, who was en route from Nashville, as well as Aaron.

He was at his attorney’s office with the home study provider, Mr. Stanton. The home study had gone well. Mr. Stanton had been impressed with the house, and he said the nursery was the best-equipped nursery he had ever seen. Besides the environmental part of the study, he had conducted interviews with everyone, including her. Mr. Stanton had been happy to meet a biological member of the baby’s family who intended to be part of the baby’s life, and he was pleased that she supported the adoption.

“What can I get for you?” A server stopped by the table.

Lia ordered a glass of tea and told the server she was waiting on a couple more people. As she sipped her tea, she looked at the messages on her phone. Her father had sent her a photograph of him and Sheila with the Eiffel Tower in the background. She responded with an upbeat message of how happy she was to hear the tour was going so well, and she was thrilled that they were in Paris.

She looked at her father, and she thought of how many times she’d sat in the control room in the studio with her dolls while songs were cut. The sound engineer and producer on a lot of those songs, her father would push the singers and musicians to be their best. So she had always tried to be her best, too. She hoped that he would not be too disappointed in her come next weekend.

A text message from Aaron popped up on her phone.

She smiled and typed: I’m so happy!

A blush colored her cheeks as she tucked her phone in her purse and thought about the grape ice pop. At midnight last night, she had been restless. Aaron hadn’t come in from the hospital, and the bed felt empty without him.

She got up. The house was dark and still. Frank and Stevie were sleeping upstairs, so she quietly made her way into the kitchen and turned on an under-the-cabinet light. Rummaging around in the refrigerator, she found a box of ice pops in the freezer. She chose her favorite frosty flavor, grape, and unwrapped it.

She had just stuck it in her mouth when Aaron came through the kitchen door. “You’re up.”

She took the ice pop out of her mouth. “Yeah. Midnight treat. How did it go?”

“It went.” He got a bottle of water out of the fridge. “When you’re dealing with underdeveloped organs, all you can do is stabilize and transfer.”

She nodded. “How is John Aaron?”

“He was doing fine tonight. I think he likes being out of the incubator.” Aaron took a sip of his water. “Your lips are purple.”

“I know.” She bit off the top of the ice pop. “I love these things. My grandmother made batches of them and kept them in the freezer for me.”

He set the bottle of water on the kitchen island. “I don’t want you to go to Colorado.”

“We already went over that.” She stuck the ice pop in her mouth.

“I want to go to Nashville with you on the eighteenth.”

She yanked the pop out of her mouth. “Aaron, what about the baby? If something happens to him, you need to be here. You can’t leave. End of story.”

Aaron pushed away from the island and walked aimlessly over to the sink where he looked out the window. “We don’t have to be gone that long.”

She took a small bite of the ice pop. She didn’t want to leave either. Not him or the baby. Love overwhelmed her heart as she walked over to where he stood. She hopped up on her bare toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Along with the kiss came a quick decision. “I won’t go to Colorado.” That was the last place she wanted to be. “When it comes to me, there probably won’t be much interest. I’m not the star.”

He cut his eyes toward her. “Yeah, you are.”

She leaned against the counter, ego flourishing, and sucked on the grape ice pop.

She noticed Aaron watching her eat the frozen treat. He retrieved his phone from his pocket and snapped her picture. “Hey, my lips are purple.”

He laughed as he laid his phone on the island.

“If you want a Popsicle, there’s a box in the freezer. But there’s not another grape one. I got the last one. But there’s strawberry and pineapple.”

His gaze drifted down to where the words “Sweet Dreams” were printed across the knit top of her pink sleep set. She licked the ice pop. It was almost gone. As Aaron looked up, she met his gaze. “Do you want to be the Popsicle?”

He stared at her, watching her purple tongue skim the ice pop like it was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. “I’d love to be the Popsicle.”

“Okay.” On the way to the bedroom, she let the rest of the ice pop melt in her mouth. “You know,” she had whispered as she put her arm around his waist. “My mouth is gonna be freezing cold.”

“Not for long,” he had whispered back.

Lia stirred her iced tea, smiling to herself. She’d had her midnight treat and given him his. Looking out the window, she noticed Gilda’s car as it appeared on Main Street. Gilda drove a yellow hatchback with a multicolored peace sign painted on the top. The car stood out in a crowd, just the way Gilda did.

Gilda wore a short paisley-printed tent dress over black leggings and strappy sandals. Besides gemstone rings, she wore mandala earrings with a matching bracelet, and her silver-blond hair sparkled in the sunlight as she crossed the street. Lia smiled. She could practically hear the opening guitar chords to “Black Magic Woman.”

Lia stood to give Gilda a hug as Gilda joined her at the table. “I’m so glad you could come today.”

“Me, too.” Gilda sat across from Lia. “You look stunning.” She admired the handcrafted trade bead necklace and gauzy Western print scarf Lia wore with a white peasant blouse tucked into her jeans. “Lots of positive energy coming from you. That’s how it is when the planets line up in your life.”

Lia smiled. “I don’t know about the planets, but I do feel super-positive.” She told Gilda about the successful home study and that John Aaron was doing much better. “I saw him this morning. I usually go twice a day to see him, and I feed him. I never knew a baby could be so amazing,” she said. “Sometimes I stop by the waterfall where I scattered Candace’s ashes and tell her about him and how much I love him. I know that’s silly.”

“No,” Gilda assured her. “Her spirit still exists, and who is to say that she isn’t there, listening to you. Next time you go, you should take a small wind chime and place it in a tree. That way she can let you know she’s there. Most people think it’s the wind that makes the chimes work, but it’s the spirits flowing though the chimes.”

“Next time I go, I’ll take a chime,” Lia said, even though she didn’t believe in Gilda’s theory. “John Aaron weighs over four pounds now. He’s so cute. We’ll stop by the nursery before we go to the house and let you take a peek at him.”

“I can’t wait to see him.”

“I want you to be his godmother.”

Gilda reached across the table and squeezed Lia’s hand. “That’ll be an honor.”

The server came by and took Gilda’s drink order. After she left, Gilda tented her fingers and tapped them against her lips. “So you and the doctor are intermingling now?”

Lia’s eyes widened. “Is it that obvious?”

“It’s the aura.” Gilda waved her hand in a circle around her face.

Flushing, Lia nodded. “Yeah, things are kinda steamy sometimes. We’ve grown close. Very close,” she amended. “It definitely feels like it’s meant to be.”

“Ah.” Gilda thought on that. “That’s your love guides talking to you.”

“Love guides? I like what they’re saying.”

“Just don’t do anything rash,” Gilda reminded her.

The server left a cup of coffee on the table for Gilda, who put a packet of sugar in it. She stirred the coffee and asked Lia, “What about Dallas?”

“I haven’t heard from him. I’m assuming he’s going to meet me at the house in Nashville on the eighteenth so we can talk to Dad and move forward. We have to do that.”

“Have you heard from Julian?”

“Yeah. He sent me a picture of him and Sheila in Paris. They’re having fun.”

“Paris.” Gilda let out a wistful sigh. “The city of light and magic.”

Lia glanced out the window and saw Aaron on the block across from the courthouse. “Gilda.” Excited, she motioned for Gilda to look out the window. “See the man with dark hair, sunglasses, and navy suit, walking this way? That’s Aaron. I love him in a suit.”

Gilda leaned against the table and looked out the window. “Oh, Lia.” She sighed and turned back to Lia, giving her a knowing gaze. “Now I understand completely. I can see why you’re hooked.”

“Who said I was hooked?” Lia teased.

“Everything about you since the day you met him.” Gilda sat back in her chair. “But is he hooked? That’s the question in my mind now.”

“No, Gilda.” Lia protested, holding up her hand. “Let it go.”

“I’m not going to say anything,” Gilda assured her. “I don’t have to. Men are a thousand times easier to read than women. Move to that chair.” She motioned for Lia to change chairs. “I want him sitting directly in front of me.”

Lia slid over to the empty chair beside hers while Gilda dug in her tote bag. She withdrew a small spray bottle made of brown glass, and she sent a couple bursts of mist into the air in the direction of the chair that Lia had left vacant.

“What is that?” Lia asked. It smelled a bit woodsy.

“It’s shaman’s mist. Just a little something for balance.”

“We’re not going to get high, are we?”

“No, dear. Not high.”

Lia smiled at Aaron as he joined them. “Hi,” he said as he sat in the chair beside her. His gaze locked with hers for a moment, setting off a tangible simmer inside her. If there was such a thing as love guides, they were hard at work.

“I want you to meet Gilda.” She made the introductions. “Gilda moved into my grandmother’s neighborhood when I was a little girl, and we’ve been like family ever since. She’s one of my dearest friends and surrogate mother.”

“I prefer to think of myself as Yoda.” Gilda shook hands with Aaron. Then she turned his hand, taking a quick glimpse of his palm before she released it.

“Are you involved in the music industry?” Aaron asked her.

“At one time. I was a groupie in the early seventies before I went on to broaden my horizons. Not with LSD,” she explained. “I became a professor of Far Eastern religions and culture, social anthropology, and Celtic folklore. I’m a spiritualist now.”

“A spiritualist?” Aaron gave Lia a curious glance.

“Gilda is the one who gave me the rose quartz.”

“The pink rock,” he said.

“No.” Gilda reached over and patted his arm. “The rose quartz is not a pink rock.”

After an hour of food and a lecture from Gilda on crystals and their history, along with other mystic traditions, the three of them left the café. Lia had ridden downtown with Aaron, but she was riding with Gilda over to the hospital to see the baby and then to Aaron’s house so she could show off the nursery.

On the sidewalk beside Gilda’s car, Aaron loosened his tie as he spoke to Lia while Gilda started the hatchback. “I’m trying to decide if she’s sane.”

“Of course she is.” Lia smiled. “She’s the ultimate in cool quirkiness.”

“I definitely agree there.” He stepped a little closer. “What do you think about getting a cabin on the lake for tomorrow night? I’d like to celebrate, and that’ll be our last chance to party before I bring John Aaron home on Sunday.”

“Our last hurrah.” She toyed with the button on his jacket. “I say we go out in a blaze of glory. Pink rocks. Popsicles. The works.”

“I’m all for that,” he said, his voice sensual and eager.

For a moment, she wished they weren’t in public. Then she stepped off the curb. “See you at home.” She made the peace symbol with her fingers before she got in Gilda’s car, and he laughed as he walked away.

* * *

Could today be more perfect? That was the question that filled Aaron’s soul as he took a seat at the table on the deck where a couple of oscillating fans added a constant breeze and ruffled the blossoms of the trumpet petunias that filled large pots on the deck. Aaron felt like he had made it down a long, dark path and stepped out into the light. The worst was behind him. The adoption was only a matter of a judge making John Aaron his legal son.

Someday there would be other children, too. A year or two from now, he and Lia might have their first baby, followed by a second later on and a third. He smiled as he thought of himself and Lia with a house full of little dark-haired rug rats. Someday.

For now, he needed to find a lake hideaway where he planned to surprise Lia with a marriage proposal. He began to search on his tablet for weekend rental properties at Covington Lake. His search was interrupted when Stevie plopped down at the table beside him.

The bill of a baseball cap pulled low shaded Stevie’s face. “I gotta tell you, that Jag is the ultimate ride. It’s awesome. Bitch knows how to please a guy.”

“Stevie,” Aaron scolded as he looked at an ad for a lake house he liked.

“You need to take it for a drive.”

“Not interested.” Aaron hadn’t forgotten the car’s owner was Dallas Peyton. It was registered in his name, and it was his property. He’d be glad when Lia got rid of the Jag and everything else connected to Dallas.

“Dad likes the hippie chick,” Stevie observed.

Aaron glanced up. “What?”

“He’s showing her his garden.” Stevie and Aaron looked toward the southern portion of the backyard where Frank was showing Gilda his raised vegetable garden. “He doesn’t show just anybody his garden.”

“No way.” Aaron shook his head.

“I think she’s cool.”

“I think she is, too. But Dad is not cool. Dad has always been Mr. Straight-laced.”

Stevie slid Aaron a serious glance. “She might loosen up those laces, but you probably need to get Dad some pills so he can get it up.”

“Jesus, I don’t even want to think about that.”

“Hey, you know Dad had sex, or we wouldn’t be here,” Stevie pointed out. “Listen, I heard her in the house talking about Woodstock. She was there. And she said she’d hung out with the Rolling Stones. Sweet,” he said with a grin. “I think she and Dad need to mix it up.”

Aaron groaned. “I think you need to shut up.” He tapped his tablet screen and enlarged the photographs of the lakefront property that showed a spacious living area and a breezy bedroom. A wide porch offered a great view of the lake. He looked for a phone number.

“Why do you and Lia call each other Loretta and Cole?”

Aaron looked up and grinned. “That’s between us.”

“How about some lemonade?” Lia came outside carrying a tray holding a stack of red plastic glasses and a large pitcher of fresh lemonade poured over crushed ice. Lemon slices floated amid the ice. “It’s really good.”

As she set the tray on the table, Aaron looked up and smiled. “I found us a place on the lake.” He held up his tablet to let her see the pictures of the lake house. “I’m going to call and see if it’s available.”

“I hope it is.” She poured lemonade into the glasses. She set one beside Aaron and gave one to Stevie. Then she filled one for herself.

Aaron took a long drink of the icy lemonade. “Whoa. That is good.”

“Where’s Frank and Gilda?” Lia asked.

Stevie grinned. “Dad’s showing her his garden, and you know what that means.”

“Stevie,” Aaron said sharply to shut his brother up.

Carrying her drink, Lia walked to the end of the deck and called to Gilda. “Did you see the house in the tree? That’s a fairy house.”

Aaron chuckled to himself. A fairy house. He had planned to repaint the interior someday and turn it into a boy’s tree house. But he had a good memory of that fairy house now, and he might end up with a daughter who would love it like her mom. He turned back to his tablet. He’d need to look up jewelry stores, too. With his phone in his right hand, he started to punch in the phone number listed under reservations for the lake house.

He heard Stevie gasp “Holy shit,” and he glanced up in time to see Lia’s red glass hit the deck floor. The plastic glass bounced. Ice and lemonade spilled across the wood. She pressed her hand against her chest, and she looked as if she had been shot through the heart.

He started to say her name when someone else did.

“Lia.” The deep voice that called to her was rich and melodious with just a hint of heartbreak and soul in it.

Aaron looked in the direction of the sound and saw a man standing beside a maple tree at the end of the driveway. He wore a blue chambray shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and faded jeans. Despite the simplicity of his clothes, they had a tailored fit as if they had been made specifically for him. He held a black hat, styled like those worn by the US cavalry in Custer’s time, pressed against his knee, and his long hair brushed against the back of his shoulders. He looked directly at Lia and waited.

Aaron’s gaze shot from Dallas to Lia, the woman he loved. Shock had drained the color from her face, and her pretty green eyes were filled with pain and disbelief.

“Dallas?” she whispered as if she thought he was a mirage.

For just a brief second, Aaron saw himself, a long time ago, reaching for the letter Molly had left on the dresser. All those emotions came rushing back: the fury, the disillusionment, the torment, the way his heart had fractured into a thousand pieces.

The sudden tightness in his chest seemed to crush his lungs.

“Dallas.” Lia blinked, coming out of her trance. She broke into a run toward the man who waited in the shade.

Aaron swore as he stood. He had to stop her, but suddenly his brother was in his face, blocking him. “Move, goddamn it.”

“No.” Stevie refused to budge. “He’s got a bodyguard with him who’ll take you out in a heartbeat,” Stevie said. “Aaron, going all crazy won’t help. Not with this.”

“Nothing’s going to help with this,” Aaron shot back as he saw Lia stop in front of Dallas. At least with Molly, it was just words on paper. He hadn’t had to witness it firsthand. As he stood there, he could have sworn vultures were already plucking at his dead heart.

He watched as Lia spoke to Dallas, who responded by putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He couldn’t hear what was said or see their eyes, but something about them spoke volumes. Their body language was that of a couple with ten years of history and togetherness .

Aaron wondered how he could have been such a fool.