Dear Mystery Guy (Magnolia Sisters Book 1) (17 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four

"Say aahh. A deep aahh." Will Faulkner was looking at her keenly. Casey opened her mouth and then a rusty, strained 'aahh' came from her throat. Will had her doing these exercises for some weeks now, and her rusty vocal chords were coming around.

"I feel it," Casey said aloud, "in here." She pointed to her chest.

Will sat back in his chair and smiled. "How does it feel?"

"Like a little tickle." It took her a while to register that she was actually speaking. Her voice sounded hoarse and a bit weird but it was hers.

It was coming from her.

"The hoarseness will go after a while," Will said, "and then you'll be good as new. Nobody will know that you couldn't speak for twelve years. As I said, it was an easy fix."

"Thank you, Dr. Faulkner," Casey husked. "Thank you so much."

"Well, now that you are no longer my patient, you can thank me by going to dinner. I..."

Luca stuck his head through the door. "Will, can I see you for a minute?"

Casey smiled at Luca uncertainly. For the past two months he had been giving her a wide berth. Even at her scar reversal surgery and the subsequent check-ups he had been uber-professional. He looked at her now in disapproval. His grey eyes were dull.

"Hello Casey." He nodded at her.

"Hello, Dr. Lawson," she replied, wishing that her voice, though it was low, didn't have that odd little tremor when she said his name.

He smiled at her and inclined his head. "Sounding good."

"Thanks." She smiled back at him happily.

He turned away then, and it was as if all the oxygen was sucked out of the air.

She breathed out when he left and stood up, a feeling of forlornness attacking her from out of nowhere. They were never going to be together. Her life was in the UK, and his was here.

She got up when Dr. Faulkner came back into the room. "Leaving already?"

"Yes," she said. "Sorry. I leave day after tomorrow and I have some last-minute sorting to do. My dad is impatient to get back. It is the longest vacation he has ever taken."

Will smiled slowly. "And you wouldn't want to go to dinner with me anyway, huh?"

Casey nodded. "Sorry."

"No need to be. I will be around in December; you just remember to invite me. Okay?"

"To what?" Casey asked, puzzled.

Will chuckled. "See you, Casey. It was a pleasure working on your larynx. Don't go auditioning for any singing competitions for at least another couple of months."

Casey grinned and left him in the office. It took awhile for her to leave the hospital. She had to personally thank all of the nurses and the doctors who were around. And of course, they were happy to hear that she could do so vocally.

Othneil stopped her in the lobby to wish her well. He had been to see her several times and had been so repentant about the accident that it was becoming painful.

Luca was not around. As she headed toward Hazel's car in the parking lot she had an insane urge to cry.

It was like an anticlimax. She got her memory back, her voice back, her family back, but no Luca. Three out of four wasn't bad. She would survive. She wouldn't forget him, though. Never. She was afraid that he was going to be lodged in her brain like a burr, even if she lost her memory again.

His car wasn't even in the parking lot but she knew where he would be. It was a Thursday. Maybe she would get one last glimpse of him. She needed to say goodbye, and she wanted her journal back.

She headed to Brick Place supermarket and saw his vehicle in the parking lot. He was a creature of habit. Casey walked into her former workplace and waved to the girls at the cashier stations that she recognized.

One of them, Olivia, recognized her and waved back. Her mouth was slightly open in shock when Casey went closer to her and whispered. "Hello Olivia."

"Hello," Olivia said slowly. "You can talk?"

Casey nodded. "I can now."

Ted was passing with a clipboard. He stopped near them. "Della Gold."

She swung around to face him. "Yes, Ted?"

He almost dropped the clipboard. "Er...hello."

"Hi," she said breezily and headed to the fresh produce aisle where Luca always went as soon as he entered the store. Sure enough, he was there clutching a bag of kale with his eyes closed.

"I had no idea that this was how one chose kale." Her voice had that ridiculous tremor again.

Luca opened his eyes slowly. "Hey. I was just thinking that I can't let you go to the UK without saying goodbye."

Casey nodded. "Same here. I must confess that I also wanted to ask you for my... er... journal."

Luca smiled. "You want it back? Why? It's mine. It says Dear Luca over and over again. Besides, it makes for good reading. I've read it twice now."

Casey groaned. "It was supposed to be for my eyes only."

"I thought of that, and I have something for you too." He put down the kale. "Come on; I have it at home."

"Aren't you going to do your shopping?" Casey asked breathlessly. "Your kale and apples and spinach and what-not."

"I'll do it tomorrow." Luca held out his hands and she put hers in his. They walked out of the supermarket together, and she could feel all the cashiers' eyes on them. Tomorrow she would be the topic of conversation in the break room, she was sure.

"This is where I live," Luca said to her when she pulled up behind him in his apartment complex.

"It's nice," Della nodded. "I thought you lived at 112 Norbrook Drive."

"I know," Luca said. "Come on in." He held the door open, and she walked into the tastefully decorated place.

"This is really nice."

Luca pulled her into his arms after closing the door and hugged her to him. "I know you have to go," he whispered in her hair, "but I'll miss you."

Casey’s heart skipped a beat in sheer shock. He'd miss her?

She studied him with fascination, helplessly delighted by that admission. This was not a dream; she pinched her hand to make sure. And he was not joking. His gray eyes were solemn.

"You'll miss me…honestly?" she prompted breathlessly, leaning forward, keen to hear him say it again.

Luca reached out and slowly laced his fingers into the waves of her hair and drew her closer to him.

"Yes, I will. And since you are no longer my patient, I can do this."

He took her mouth in an exploratory foray and she felt as if she were drowning, only this time it was in a breathless, heady kind of way not the scary dreams she had about water. She felt engulfed by him and excitement raced through her nerve endings, leaving her shivery and trembling.

He pulled his lips from hers and looked down at her intently. His voice was husky. "One of your fantasies, and mine too, admittedly."

Casey opened her mouth to protest and then decided against it. Yes, she had written that in the journal, hadn't she?

"Before I forget," he ran his fingers through his hair and she was happy to see that his hands were not quite steady, "here's your journal." He took it up from the kitchen counter.

It was in an envelope addressed to her with a big Casey Givens in his handwriting on the front.

"Thanks," Casey said jerkily. They stood looking at each other for the longest time. "I guess I should go."

Luca nodded. "Have a safe journey tomorrow. Enjoy your family again. I know that this is a dream come true for you."

"I will." Her voice cracked. After that kiss, he wasn't going to ask her to stay? No mention of the future--he just gave her the book and wished her well.

She paused and looked around at him uncertainly.

"Be safe, Casey," he whispered.

She nodded and walked through the front door, her heart breaking into a million pieces.

Chapter Twenty-Five

"London in summer is great. Your cousins are all lining up to take you around. Your grandmother wants to know if you want to visit today at the shop, and your cousin Hattie wants to know if you want to go to a concert?"

Casey looked at her dad. She was trying really hard to fit in and she had made more of an effort than her lackluster body allowed but still, four weeks later, she couldn't get out of the down, depressed feeling she found gripping her at odd hours.

Her family was great. Her grandparents were as she remembered them, just older and more tearful. Her grandmothers were especially thankful that she had survived.

Her cousins had all grown up; a few of them had gotten married and had children already.

She hadn't had as much adjustment to make as she thought she would have to. The entire clan treated her as if she had just gone away for twelve years and was now back. After she told her story nobody pressed her for more information. They expected her to get on with the business of living.

Her mother's sister, Aunt Petra, a professor at Cambridge had urged her to apply for her Master's degree. Her father's sister, another overachiever and partner at her father's law firm, had arranged for an interview with the law firm's accountants.

Everybody was so busy, and they wanted her to be busy too. It would help her heal. It would help her forget, or at least that was what everybody kept saying.

Her father's phone rang jolting her out of her reverie.

She glanced at him and he shrugged. "I'll not take the call now if you answer me honestly."

"Okay." She rested back in the sofa. "I'll answer you honestly."

"Are you missing Jamaica? I promise I won't be offended if you tell me the truth."

"Yes, I do. Of course I do." Casey nodded. "It's an adjustment being back here."

"Are you sad, Casey?" Her dad asked. He crossed his legs. He had his lawyer face on. "Sometimes you stare into space, almost with catatonic concentration, and I know you are not all here."

"I just...I don't know." Casey shook her head, trying to put into words what she was feeling. "I have always wanted back my memory, to know who I am, but now that it has happened I realize that there were some aspects of my former life that I like and miss."

"And you miss the other girls and the doctor guy?"

Casey nodded. "Luca. I miss him a bit too much."

"You can call them, video chat with them...it's the age of technology; use it."

"I do call them, my sisters. They tease me that I sound posh." Casey sighed. "As for Luca, my feelings for him are one-sided. It would feel odd to call him. Calling him would be like stalking him, like what I used to do before I found out who he was."

"One-sided, really?" Her father chuckled. "I doubt that. I have to read people for a living, juries and the like, and let me tell you, that guy looked at you so intently, especially when you weren't looking, it was almost painful to see. I fretted for a while that you would not be coming home with me."

"You are just saying that to make me feel better." Casey got up and came over to where he sat. "I love you, Daddy." She hugged him. "Sometimes, when I wake up in the middle of the night, I can't believe we found each other again."

"I know." Her dad squeezed her back.  "I feel the same way too. I am thankful. This year we get to celebrate your birthday together. Every year I used to shut myself off from everyone and act like a bore."

Casey grinned. "At least now I know that my real birthday is July 20. I should write it down somewhere so I don't forget it. I should start writing stuff in my journal again."

"You do that, honey." Her father’s phone rang again, but before he answered it he looked at her fondly. "Take your time adjusting; there is no rush to go anywhere or do anything."

Casey nodded and headed for her room. She could start writing again. Maybe that would cure her of her doldrums.

She took out the package from the top drawer of her writing table. She was happy that her father had moved house from the place they lived with the pink and white decor.

The room she now had was a sedate pale green. She sat down at the desk. Her room faced the back of the house where her father had planted a garden that was bursting with color. He shared a love for flowers with her mom when they were younger.

That's how they had met, at a flower show—a Middle Eastern woman and a black man of Jamaican descent. It had taken a bit of adjustment on both sides of the family tree for that marriage to happen.

She wondered if her dad had ever thought to remarry after Josephine or if he had somebody else in his life. She would ask him. It must be lonely to just be all about work and winning cases.

She opened the package that Luca had wrapped her book in and thought about what she would say. Would she still address the book to Luca or should she say Dear Diary?

She opened the first page and was shocked to see that it said, Dear Casey.

She closed it and looked at the outside. It was the same color and size as her journal but obviously this was a different book.

She opened it again.

Dear Casey,

I thought about this thoroughly before doing it, believe me. I am not very good with the emotional side of things but I thought that since you poured your heart out in a journal and addressed it to me, I should do the same.

Tit for tat. So here goes. By the way, please bear with my handwriting. I am a doctor, you know. All the jokes about poor handwriting and doctors apply to me but as you said in your journal, it is being illiterate that is the deal breaker. And I can assure you that I can read. And I do read quite extensively.

My name is Luca Lawson and I am about to demystify any mystery that I may have been shrouded in before you met me and since. After reading this, we'll be equal.

Casey gasped. She got up from the desk and sprawled on the bed with the book clutched in her hand. She arranged herself on the bed and made herself comfortable before reading more.

I am a regular kind of guy, grew up in a normal enough family. My dad's a lawyer like yours. He's also a senator; law and politics seem to be happy bedfellows these days. My mom was a housewife. Not just any housewife, though, she's the stylish kind. Think Bree from
Desperate Housewives
. Yes, I watch
Desperate Housewives
. Does this make you uncomfortable? That's all the excitement I really have in my life. My life is nowhere as exciting as yours. And there you were thinking that your sister's lives were more exciting than yours.

Anyway, back to me. We grew up in the church and pretty strictly, too. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. You are your brother's keeper. Love your neighbor.

These were the kinds of things both my parents drummed into me and my brother. So we kind of grew up with the volunteer spirit. Also, both my parents were so kind and caring that it made an impression on my brother and myself. We both decided to go into medicine.

We studied a lot. My father was a stickler for that kind of thing. I was a nerd in high school. The girls thought I had pretty eyes but they thought I was one step away from being Steve Urkel, so they gave me a wide berth.

By the way, I have no idea why my eyes are gray. I guess somewhere way down in one side of the family tree was some gray-eyed ancestor. I think your eyes are gorgeous--and quite unusual and much better looking than mine.

Anyway, in university I outgrew the awkward lanky stage and I acquired quite a bit of female attention. In my first year at school, I met a fellow freshman named Tessa Benedict. You may have heard of her; she's Patricia's niece.

We hit it off right away. I loved her deeply and she loved me but she had a heart defect and thought that she could die at any time. The doctors had been saying that since she was a little girl, so we thought it was just sourpuss doctors trying to scare us.

We got married after we both got into med school. We were happy for a year and then she died. Suddenly, without warning, in her sleep.

For a long time I didn't grieve properly. I used school as an outlet to keep busy. After med school, I did my residency and then I sort of had a breakdown. No, not mental ward crazy, just really depressed and closed off.

I got a dog, Keko, and surprisingly, I started getting better. Last year in August Keko died and I started feeling lonely again. I started going to a supermarket that was close to my home. It was also the time I met Josephine. It was also a time when a mystery girl started writing to me about her life.

Casey couldn't wait to read the rest of the entries. She was startled when her cousin Hattie pushed her head through the door.

"Didn't your father tell you I was stopping by? We have to go and see UB40." Hattie spoke really fast and Casey could barely keep up with what she was saying.

"Huh?" Casey frowned.

"UB40…the group. They'll be playing in the park. They are a UK group but they sing reggae, like Kingston Town and Cherio Baby."

"Oh." It suddenly dawned on Casey what Hattie was going on about.

"Come on," Hattie said, "I have never been to Jamaica but when I hear them I feel as if I am there. You'll like it." She turned from Casey and shouted, "Uncle! You wanna come with us? It's your kind of speed. Mellow."

Her father replied somewhere in the distance and Casey reluctantly put down the journal. She had been so absorbed in Luca's words. She wondered why he had done it. Why was he baring himself to her. Was it just tit for tat? She had done it so he was doing it, or did he have some deeper reason?

"Rain check, Hattie," she called to her cousin. "I am reading something very interesting."

"Okay," Hattie said, disappointed. "Dinner with my friends tomorrow, and I won't be taking no for an answer."

Casey nodded. "Sure. Fine."

She went back to the journal.

Dear Casey,

It was an interminable couple of weeks trying to act like the professional doctor around you. I am torn between wanting you to no longer be my patient and knowing that when you are no longer my patient, you'll leave. I can't ask you to stay. I know that your driving desire was to find out who you really are, and now that you have I can't stand in your way.

It would be selfish to ask you to stay. You were like a caged bird that was chained within the prison of silence and burdened by your memory loss, but now that you have gotten back your voice and your memory, it is only fair that you be allowed to fly and spread your wings to live the life you should have lived, the one you were meant to live.

Maybe this was all we should have of each other at this point in time. Maybe the reason we brushed each other's lives was fulfilled. I console myself with that, but somehow it doesn't feel like much of a consolation because you are firmly lodged in my heart.