Ciji Ware (73 page)

“No…
you
should,” Dylan considered with a thoughtful expression. “She’ll respond better to you. Now do as I say.”

“But—”

“This is serious stuff, King,” he said. “Corlis wanted to find out the fate of her namesake. She didn’t give me any details, but I also think she was extremely upset about whatever happened between you two earlier today. I don’t know what that was, mind you, but I sensed when I spoke with her on the phone tonight that she felt terribly conflicted… because she
cares
about you, boy!”

“But that can’t be the reason she won’t wake up,” King protested.

“Ah… but I think she may be stayin’ in the trance because she’s exhausted by everything that’s happened. It’s a form of escape.”

“What if I can’t bring her out of it?” King asked soberly.

Dylan turned toward the shop door with an impatient wave.

“Look, now. Gimme your car keys. I’m gonna risk my life and go sit in that hideous claptrap of yours parked out front. Why you never drive that Jaguar of yours round town is beyond lil’ ol’
me
.”
He pointed at his watch. “If you two don’t come out in ten minutes, I’ll call a doctor I know to meet us here.”

King nodded in agreement and cast the flashlight’s beam toward the door that opened onto the street, providing a pathway for Dylan’s departure. Then he devoted his full attention to Corlis, who remained motionless, her head still cradled in her arms.

He bent forward, his hands resting on the desk. “Darlin’?” he ventured awkwardly, feeling both foolish and afraid. “Corlis…? Dylan says it’s time to become aware of where you are, sugar.”

He waited. Nothing happened.

He bent closer and whispered, “Take your time, baby, but… I want you to know that you’re safe here with us. Start to become aware of the room… the temperature in here. The sounds of traffic outside.”

Corlis didn’t respond.

“Sweetheart,” he urged, attempting to keep the desperation out of his voice. “I’m here baby. Wake up. Please.”

King thought he detected the slightest flicker beneath her closed eyes. There! He
definitely
saw a movement.

“I’m here, darlin’,” he whispered. “When you’re ready… you can open your eyes.
Please
open your eyes… so I know you’re all right. We have to talk… Please, Corlis… come back…”

A lump had suddenly grown in his throat. What if he couldn’t rouse her? What if he’d hurt her so much this afternoon that—?

Just at that moment she inhaled deeply and allowed her breath to escape in a long, even exhalation.

“That’s right, baby…” he pleaded. “You gotta know how sorry I am for the way I acted toward you today. You behaved honorably in every way. You were
right
to wait till Marchand—” His words suddenly stuck in his throat. It was his turn to inhale deeply. Then he continued. “To wait till my
father
finally told me the truth. He trusted you to help him get me out of that crypt. He said tonight that he’d known from the very first that you were a woman of integrity, just like I did. That you were a person he could count on to do the right thing.”

Very gently he covered one of her hands lying on the desk with his own and was reassured to feel its warmth. He bent even closer and whispered into her ear, “I am so sorry that my tunnel vision made me so blind. I should have trusted that you only had my best interests at heart. But you see… it’s been so long since I felt that anyone
did
.
Have my interests at heart, I mean.”

Corlis seemed to have settled back into complete unconsciousness. He stared at her immobile features and felt the beginning of panic.

“You
have
to wake up, Corlis,” he demanded roughly. “I’m here. It’s King. It’s truly
me
…
maybe for the first time in my life.”

Instead of kissing her cheek gently, as he knew Dylan would have advised, he impulsively scooped Corlis into his arms, sat down on the chair himself, and cradled her in his lap.

“Please, baby… please be here with me,” he crooned, rocking her gently in his arms. “
Please!
I want you to be part of my life… for the
rest
of my life!” he whispered fiercely, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her closed eyes. “I’ve known it for a long, long time. Long before I took you to the fishin’ cabin and we made love. But then the fight to save the buildings got in the middle of everything. You didn’t agree with me ’bout some things… or see everything
my
way, so I… I got frustrated, you know?” He was kissing her hair now, brushing a tendril away from her brow. “I’m not used to being round a woman like you. Smart. Sassy. Real uppity. Too many magnolias in my past, I guess. I pushed away what I wanted for myself and focused everything on just trying to keep those buildings from being bulldozed. You were right ’bout me seeing everything as either black or white.”

Corlis heaved another sigh… as if she agreed with his self-assessment, but still she remained inert in his arms.

“I’m
glad
they’re saved… those buildings… but I’ve spent most of my life rescuing ruins. Now I’ve got to start building something, and I want it to be something that you and I—”

“King?”

Corlis’s eyes were now open, and she peered up at him sleepily.

“I’m baaa-ck,” she whispered with a crooked smile.

He pulled her hard against his chest, fighting a swell of emotion.

“Well, it’s about time!” he whispered hoarsely. Then in a more normal voice he added, “You had me scared half to death, sugar.”

“Say that part again,” she murmured.

“What part? That I was scared?”

“No… the ‘please be with me… I want you to be part of my life’ part.”

“You heard that, huh, baby?” he said, hugging her close.

“And the part about too many magnolias in your life.” She stared up at him, her gaze troubled. “Is that really true?”

“You mean like Cindy Lou?” He brushed his lips against hers and murmured, “You may be a helluva feminist, but, boy, do you get jealous for no reason. I was happy the Mallorys supported the cause and wrote a few checks, but you should know by now that I’m a lot like you. Cross me once, and you’re off my list.”

“Well… I crossed you,” Corlis said quietly. “I wouldn’t give you information that you felt was due you. I certainly felt scratched off your list today.”

He seized her right hand and brought it to his lips. “I had no right to judge you at all.” He gently stroked the backs of her fingers against his chin. “I am
really
sorry for what I said earlier today… and for going off in a huff. Can you forgive me for that?”

She closed her eyes briefly, as if warding off the memory.

At length she said in a husky voice, “It’s all right, King. Believe me, I’ve done the same thing myself, many a time. All my life, in fact. I’ve been the queen of getting mad and then taking a powder.”

“Well, you’ve got company there, Ace,” he said, kissing her on the nose.

“Making judgments is a big part of my job,” she said thoughtfully, gazing up at him, “but sometimes I’d do a lot better if I’d just keep the focus on my
own
behavior and made sure to keep
my
side of the street clean.”

“Your behavior has been just fine,” he reassured her. “But like those lady marines told me,
I
still need a little attitude adjustment.”

“Not too much,” she said smiling. “As long as you show up when I conk out like this, and then tell me you need me around for the rest of your life.”

“Were you playing possum just now?” he demanded, chucking her lightly on the cheek.

“Sort of. I was in such a relaxed state… I wanted to stay like that forever and just listen to the sound of your voice.”

“Speaking of that little journey you took yourself on tonight… do you mind telling me where you’ve been?”

“Oh boy,” she said, struggling to sit up within the circle of his arms. “For a person who likes to deal in hard facts, I honestly don’t know where to begin.”

“Well… you can take as much time as you need,” he replied, bending forward to kiss her again on the nose, “but someday I want to hear all about the things you haven’t told me. And I promise… we’ll keep it strictly off the record.”

She abruptly sat bolt upright.

“Oh… my God!” she exclaimed. “With all this woo-woo stuff, I completely forgot Lafayette Marchand!” she said, her expression full of loving concern. “Did he…?”

“Yes,” King replied simply. “Yes, he did. In true southern style, over drinks at the Old Absinthe House bar, he filled me in on the last thirty-five years of his life. Then we walked through the Quarter to Café LaCroix, where we’ve been waiting for you ever since.”

“And?” Corlis asked softly.

“I have to give the guy credit. He didn’t spare himself at all. He was decent about everything. I’d say things between us went ’bout as well as they possibly could. We both agreed to unravel this thing slowly and keep our expectations under control.”

“Oh, King… I’m so glad that he… that he told you the truth.” She leaned back, her eyes moist with compassion. “He risked everything, you know, to get you out of that crypt in time for the city council meeting. I expect that none of what you talked about tonight was easy for him to say…
or
for you to hear, for that matter.”

“And as you so candidly pointed out to me today, I haven’t been a great one for waiting to get all the facts before making up my mind about some things,” he reflected, staring off into space.

“But sometimes there just wasn’t time, or the buildings would be rubble, just like you’ve said,” she protested. “I think everything you did was brave and solidly thought out and—”

King grinned. “Why thank you, Ace. Coming from you, I consider that high praise.”

“I bet
now
your dean at the architecture school is going to have to show some appreciation for what you’ve done.”

“He already has,” King said with a short laugh. “I checked my voice mail before I went to Café LaCroix. The little twit is recommending me highly for tenure, he says. I think I see the hand of Lafayette Marchand at work on this one.”

“Maybe your father is attempting to make up for his boss trying to pressure the university to fire you.”

“Well… speaking of all that,” he said seriously, “I have another question.”

“And that is?”

“Can we be
seen
together, now? In public? As a goddamned couple, I mean?” Corlis smiled faintly and nodded affirmatively. “And how ’bout maybe drinking a
beer
in public?” he demanded.

“Tonight?” she asked with a mischievous smile. “I’m off duty… so, sure. Besides, we have a lot to celebrate.”

King flashed her a lecherous grin. “Oh, believe me, I know
just
how I want to celebrate. How ’bout your place? It’s close by,” he proposed, gently pinching her fanny.

“Can’t be my place.”

“Why not?”

“Do you want to give an eighty-eight-year-old woman cardiac arrest?”

King looked at her, puzzled. Then he burst out laughing. “Oh, I forgot. Aunt Marge is now in residence. For a second I thought you were pulling a magnolia…”

However, Corlis wasn’t listening. “Oh, my stars!” She gasped. “Where’s Aunt Marge right
now
?
It must be 1:00 a.m.!”

“Don’t worry, sugar. Half the preservation guerrillas are drinking with her at the bar at Café LaCroix.” King stood up and gently settled Corlis on her feet. Then he put his arms around her once more. “As for later tonight, smart folks like us can surely figure out the logistics.”

“Well, there’s always the fishing cabin,” she proposed, arching one eyebrow suggestively.

“You know something? You are one uppity woman.”

“You betcha.”

King cast a faintly salacious gaze in the direction of her legs. “And you know what else?”

“What?’

“The thing I continue to find truly amazing about you, Ace, is that regardless of what century you might be in,” he pronounced solemnly, “you’ve got—without a doubt—the greatest pair of legs in Louisiana.”

“And what
you’ve
got, Mr. Preservation,” she whispered softly, moving her lips against his chest, “I consider a national treasure.”

King’s swift intake of breath was followed by the husky sound of his voice. “You are one lucky lady that this dusty ol’ tax office is the most uninviting place for a tryst I’ve ever seen.”