The Doctor and the War Widow (19 page)

Chapter 17

Abisi lay in bed the next morning with Harley in his arms. She was sound asleep, having kept her word and danced until two that morning. He, however, had hardly slept. His elation at her news was genuine. When his children were still minors, his frequent separations from their mother had deprived him of sharing in their daily trials and triumphs. The periodic separations had been unwelcome on his part and had pierced his soul. When he did spend time with them, Abisi reveled in being a parent. He’d gladly chauffeured Jordan to his British football games and had beamed with pride at Jessica’s ballet recitals. He would gladly have moved back to England had Maureen been more inviting, but she was as cold as an iceberg. Abisi would have liked to think that she simply wasn’t that interested in sex, but he had indisputable proof that she was persistently unfaithful to him. He would not further traumatize his children with a divorce and had spent as much time in London as he could. He’d thought that he would have to experience parenthood vicariously through Jessica’s children, but now, he had a second chance.

Abisi stared at Harley as she stirred and stretched. Her breasts rested outside the blanket. She had perfect skin and firm breasts. Abisi laughed at his own blindness as he cupped her breasts in his hands and kissed them. They were already growing fuller and harder. Her stomach, though still flat, was rounding slightly. When her eyes fluttered open, he kissed her neck and stroked her face. “How do you feel?”

She smiled sleepily and shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know yet. I’m a little lightheaded in the mornings.”

“Stay in bed until I dress. Then, I’ll take you to lunch.” Instinctively, the doctor inside took over. He felt her pulse. “You’re fine. Do you still feel up to all of this walking?”

“Of course. I’m not sick, you know, just pregnant.” She drew him down and kissed him. “Besides, pregnancy isn’t a debilitating condition, and it’s a temporary one. That’s what you doctors say, anyway.”

“True enough.”

Her eyes suddenly opened wide. “What did you mean by lunch?”

Abisi grinned at her. “You slept well. It’s almost eleven.” He laughed at the horror on her face. She was an early riser who was at her computer with first light.

Harley sat up quickly and glanced at the clock. “I can’t believe this.” He stared at her with appreciation. The blankets pooled around her thighs, and he drank in her pristine skin and well-toned body. Last night, she’d danced in his arms while a man with a guitar serenaded them with “In My Life.” Her taut body had vibrated against his, and when he’d lifted her in his arms at the hotel door, Harley had returned his kisses with a fervent passion that sent his heart pounding against his rib cage. She’d wrapped her firm legs around his waist in unsated ardor and had run her hands hungrily over his face and through his hair. When he’d straddled her on the bed and nibbled on her thighs, Harley had groaned with wild pleasure and spread her legs easily.

She grinned, as if reading his thoughts. “Are you thinking about last night?”

“You’re becoming an expert at reading my mind.” He leaned over her and kissed her.

“Ready for more?” She giggled, ducked, and pulled the blankets over her exposed body. “Come and find me.”

Abisi’s heart pounded with desire and tenderness as he peeled the blankets away. They didn’t leave their room until after one o’clock.

“I want to eat at St. Luke’s.” Harley linked her arm through Abisi’s as they headed into Liva 1, the bustling Liverpool shopping arena.

“The bombed-out church?” Abisi stared at her. “Are you sure you won’t be too cold?”

“It’s not too cold today, and I feel fine.” She grinned evilly. “Didn’t I prove that to you?”

“There’s a fish and chips place right down the street. We can bring lunch to the church yard.” Harley stared up at him. Since telling him about the baby, Harley was as lighthearted as a schoolgirl, and her heart expanded with tenderness when she thought of the child that would be theirs. The sensation of his hand clutching hers sent a soothing heat through her veins. “All the college kids bring lunch there.” She nudged him playfully. “Think we’ll fit in? Maybe they’ll think we belong at Liverpool U.” She added quickly, “We can discuss names.”

“Ah, you have names picked out already?” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her. “Okay, let’s go to St. Luke’s.”

St. Luke’s had been an active parish before the Second World War. During the war, the church was heavily bombed. The roof was destroyed, but from the outside, the church looked completely intact. A glance through the windows revealed that flora and fauna had overtaken the sanctuary. With their fish and chips in hand, Harley and Abisi made their way up Leece Street to the church. They ate in companionable silence on the grass for a long time. Throngs of university students milled about. Some played guitars and sang. Others chatted or worked on laptops.

A tall, gangly student with straight ebony hair ventured over to them. The youth was carrying a guitar. He removed his cap and placed it at his feet. Harley was impressed with his ability and soon recognized the opening chords to “If I Fell.” The boy’s voice was more than pleasant—strong and resonating. While the man’s voice warbled through the air. Abisi tossed a generous offering in the cap. Several others gathered around the musician and followed suit. Harley nestled under Abisi’s arm. The romantic song turned her skin to gooseflesh. She glanced at her lover and blushed like a schoolgirl.

When he’d finished, the youthful troubadour smiled broadly and collected his earnings. “Sir! Madam!” He winked at Abisi. “You’re lucky to have such a beautiful woman, sir. She’s radiant! Enjoy our city.” With that, he was off.

Harley and Abisi laughed. Harley wondered if she wore a sign that said PREGNANT but the sensation stirring in her breast was pleasurable and not the resentful anger of weeks before.

Harley pressed her face to Abisi’s. “Let’s walk.”

Harley held his hand tightly as they made their way through the winding Liverpool streets. “I like Alexandria for a girl.”

Abisi smiled down at her. “I thought we were having a boy.”

“Well, you always need a backup plan.” Harley reveled in the brisk air as it swept against her face. Suddenly, she froze and tugged his hand. “Hey, we’re at Strawberry Fields.” She reached into her purse. “We need a picture.”

The now famous red gate gleamed in the bright sunlight. The brick wall protected the land from intruders and unwelcomed sightseers. Other tourists were also milling around, taking pictures. Some crossed the road to get a better shot of former orphanage made famous by Lennon’s song. Abisi suddenly had her arm, drawing her close. “Harley, I have to ask you something.”

“What? I thought of it, too. We’ll have one of these people take a picture.” Harley was about to motion to some tourists snapping away.

Abisi turned her to him and sank to his knees. His hands trembled as he clasped hers, and his voice was hoarse with emotion. “No, I don’t want a picture. Not now. Harley, I want you to marry me. Will you be my wife?”

Harley’s heart raced. She was suddenly as breathless as someone who had run a marathon, but the sensation wasn’t unpleasant. She glanced around. All of the tourists were staring at them. Some had begun to point.

A red-haired man with an Australian accent approached. “Hey, mate, you okay? I’m a doctor.”

Abisi’s gaze never left Harley, but he laughed. “I’m a doctor, too, and I’m asking this woman to marry me.”

The Aussie called to his wife, “It’s a proposal.”

Harley’s hand instinctively flew to her mouth, and she started to giggle as her heart swelled. “Are you asking me because you feel obligated?”

“You are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met. I’m asking you because I love you, and marrying you will be the sweetest obligation I ever could have.” Abisi kissed her other hand, letting his lips linger.

“In that case, my darling, yes.” She was laughing uncontrollably. Every camera was on them. The Magical Mystery tour bus had pulled up. The driver and guide stood in the doorway while close to fifty people poured out of the bus, snapping away on their cameras. She could imagine the tale they would tell when they showed their pictures to friends.
“This woman agreed to say ‘I do’ to a bloke while we were at Strawberry Fields.”
She felt her eyes growing moist. “I’ll be your wife.”

Suddenly, he was on his feet and had her in his arms. Every person in the street began to clap enthusiastically. Some men pumped their fists in the air. Some women cried. Everyone shook hands with Harley and Abisi before moving on.

“Wow, this really is a pretty church. I didn’t know it was still a parish.” Harley and Abisi walked around St. Peter’s Church in Liverpool, Woolton.

“Not only a parish. Their vicars seem to have a collective sense of humor.” Abisi indicated pictures of the annual fete posted on a bulletin board in the back of the church. The two vicars were wet as they emerged from a dunking booth. Abisi studied the notice. “Apparently, it was for charity.”

“Yes, we raised quite a bit of money for the local orphanage.” A voice startled them both. A man in his early thirties wearing jeans and T-shirt stood appraising them. He had curly blond hair and a ready smile. “I’m Kip Turner, rector here. May I help you?”

Harley shook his outstretched hand. “We’re just tourists, fans.”

The smiling rector nodded as he shook hands with Abisi. “Ah, yes, we get lots of Beatles fans.”

Abisi slipped an arm around Harley. “I asked her to marry me today.”

Kip smiled and almost gushed when he said, “That’s wonderful. Let me be the first to offer you my congratulations.”

Harley’s heart suddenly overflowed with happiness, and she realized how long her soul had lain dormant. Besides, the man staring at them with unconcealed good will was immensely personable. “You’re not the first, I’m afraid.” She then animatedly described the scene at Strawberry Fields.

Turner smiled broadly. “Would you like a tour of the church?”

When they readily assented, Turner led them through the church, the hall, and the churchyard. Harley shuddered when she saw Eleanor Rigby’s tombstone. She gazed at the tombstone and murmured. “Well, now she won’t be forgotten.”

The vicar nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, isn’t that what art should do? I think art should arouse our awareness, don’t you?”

Abisi slipped an arm around Harley and drew her close. “Harley’s a writer, in fact.”

“That’s excellent.” Turner smiled from ear to ear.

“I don’t write highly intellectual books, I’m afraid.”

“Well, books that make people smile have a great deal of merit.” The man waxed eloquent about his Irish grandmother when Harley told him about her upcoming book on Grace O’Malley.

When they were about to leave the church, Abisi gazed at Harley. “Do you trust me to go with the flow?”

Harley giggled and stared. “I’ve never heard you use such a slang expression.”

Abisi called to Turner as the clergyman was about to walk away. “Would you marry us while we’re here?”

Turner paused, considering. He rolled his own wedding ring around his finger. “Well, it would take some days for a license.”

Harley’s heart pounded. Did she want to marry so far from home? Yes, why not? For too long, her life had been appallingly predictable. “That will give Jessica and Geoffrey time to come here.”

Abisi nodded, as if considering. “I’ll head to the Registry Office today.”

Harley felt a sudden surge of panic. “We’re not Anglicans. Will that be a problem?”

The man smiled. “We’re pretty loose on those kinds of things. Besides, this is truly a love match. I can tell.”

Chapter 18

“With my body, I thee worship. With all my worldly goods, I thee endow, and thereto, I plight thee my troth.” Harley spoke the ancient vows, surrounded only by the man she loved and his children. The wedding took place three days after the encounter with Kip Turner. They had bought plain wedding bands immediately after filling out forms at the registry office, and Harley had picked out a beautiful tea-length light-green dress when Jessica arrived. She was thrilled that her future step-daughter was enthusiastic and seemed genuinely pleased that the wedding was taking place. When they’d returned to the hotel, the staff surprised them with a celebratory dinner.

They were leaving for New Orleans in two days. Harley called Donna and told her the news the next day. Donna’s voice echoed in Harley’s ear. “You got what—?”

“Yes, married, I know. It’s been a long time for me. I think he wanted to make an honest woman of me.” Harley grinned at her new husband as he lounged on their bed. He winked at her.

Donna said hurriedly, “No, I think it’s great. You’ll be home soon?”

“Oh, in two days. I can’t wait to sleep in my, er, our bed again.” Harley lay against Abisi when he beckoned to her. “Have you heard any complaints from Judy about Nico?”

“Hell, no. She’s still fixing him a sandwich every day.”

Harley could hear Donna mixing the contents of her sculpting materials together.

Harley bit her lips and tried to suppress a giggle as Abisi nibbled on her neck. Playfully, she slapped at his groping hands. “Do me a favor. Tell Judy. I didn’t even tell her about the baby. I don’t want to hear any transatlantic screaming.”

Donna sighed. “Shit, I get to do your dirty work, eh? Well, Mike and I will pick you up when you arrive.” She paused, as if trying to remember something. “Oh, Judy did say Katie Urban left you a message. Didn’t you teach her?”

“Yep, she’s writing for the paper now. What did she want?” Harley slapped Abisi’s hands as he unbuttoned her blouse.

“Apparently, some of your students are outraged that the old bat Sr. Elizabeth let you go. They also know you’re a famous writer. Katie wants to do a story on you.” Harley could hear Donna sculpting.

“Well, the only reason I ever used a pseudonym was because of the teaching. That’s not a problem anymore.” A twinge of regret flickered in Harley’s bosom, but Abisi’s unhooking her bra deflected her attention from her momentary pangs. “Look, D, I have to go. My husband wants to take advantage. I’ll see you later this week.”

“You’re not going to give me a lecture, are you?” Harley heard the trepidation in Judy’s voice later the next day. At least she hadn’t phoned when they were in bed.

“How did you get pregnant?” Judy sounded incredulous.

Harley laughed and sat down on the bed. Abisi was showering. They were leaving the next day. “I think you can figure out how I got pregnant. You and your hubby were pretty hot and heavy at one time.”

“You know what I mean.”

She heard Judy snort. “I wasn’t very careful. I always thought I couldn’t get pregnant.”

“Aunt Eden would be pleased.” Judy’s reference to her mother made Harley’s heart throb.

“You think so?” Harley wished her mother could see her only grandchild. The mystery of birth, with all of its fears and joys, was the kind of thing any woman wanted to share with her mother. Harley had always thought she’d have children with John. Why had her mother died before she saw her happy? The years immediately after John had been barren. Eden had known she wasn’t happy and suffered with her. She’d encouraged Harley’s writing as a means of escaping her misery, and Eden had been her biggest fan when the writing had proven fruitful. Harley’s breast tightened. Thinking of her mother still hurt.

“Aunt Eden liked anything that made you happy.” Judy’s tone was soothing.

Harley’s throat constricted. “Have you seen Carville? Has he said anything about our stalker?”

“I saw his grandmother when I picked up the mail. Apparently, he gives her updates. The bitch hasn’t been at her house. He’s passed by in a cruiser, and she’s nowhere to be seen.” Judy grunted. “The whore from hell is laying low. Of course, he says she could be in some hotel. He and his partner checked hotels for you, but they can’t check all of them.”

Icy panic swept through Harley’s insides, but she brushed the dread away. “Maybe she left town.”

“Maybe not.” Judy’s voice was grim. “Regardless, she has to pay for torching that house.” She was quiet a long time. “You both could be dead because of that bitch.”

“Nobody wants her behind bars more than I do, but a part of me would like to think she’s forgotten about us.” Harley sighed and patted her stomach. “I don’t need the stress.”

“You do sound happier.”

“Does it show?” Harley hummed to herself, moved to the closet, and removed her suitcase. She began tossing some of her clothes inside. With a rueful smile, she thought of her mother. Eden had always chided her for being a messy packer.

“Yeah, it shows. For a while, you were getting too cynical and judgmental.” After a pause, Judy added, “You don’t even curse as much. You used to curse like a sailor.”

Harley tossed off her own sweater and tossed it into the suitcase. “I wasn’t happy for a long time. Besides, my husband is a gentleman. I can’t sound like the resident slut.” She moved to the mirror and finger-combed her hair. “Look, I’m going to hang up. I’m joining my husband in the shower. We’ll pick up Nico when we get home.”

“Look, Harley, Donna told me you know about Katie Urban’s call. Are you going to give her that interview?” Judy’s voice held an accusation.

Harley drew in an exasperated breath. Sometimes, Judy was too paranoid by half. “Why shouldn’t I give her an interview? She was one of the smartest kids I ever taught, and she’s making quite a name for herself.”

“You’ve always guarded the Susan Weber secret. I just thought you didn’t want people to know who you really were.” Judy sounded concerned.

“The only reason I was secretive is because I taught teenagers in Catholic school and wrote about sex. I don’t have to worry about that any longer.” Harley sighed. Sometimes she was relieved she no longer had to worry about teaching. At other times, she mourned the days when teaching had brought her such joy. What she missed was her early commitment to kids and to learning, but Harley had been coasting for a long time.

“How do you feel about that really?”

“Glad that I’m out of the situation I’m in, but I miss Harley the idealist.”

“What if this interview brings out Kimberly the fruitcake?” Judy pressed.

Harley’s blood ran like an icy stream in her veins. Her heart pounded. “Well, maybe that’s what it will take to catch her. I want her behind bars, and I think you’re right. She won’t just leave us alone.” She shook off her chill. “I must go. Kiss Nico for me. I’ll miss my shower, and I’d like some kinky sex before I’m really fat.”

Harley greeted Katie Urban at her home on Halloween. The girl was still remarkably like Harley had remembered her—very polite with long, coltish legs and dark-brown eyes.

“Jennifer told us you’d been fired. None of us from the class of ’05 could believe it.” Katie embraced her and then bent to scratch Nico’s ears.

“I’m glad it happened.” Harley was suddenly struck by how much she meant the words. This class was the last group of kids to experience her full prowess as a teacher. Maybe Katrina had caused the void in her heart, but she’d coasted ever since. Luckily, she was a good enough teacher that she could pass muster with minimal prepping, and Eden’s illness had taken its toll. John’s death, her mother’s long illness and demise, and Hurricane Katrina had sapped her energy and altered her outlook on life. Teaching had once been her life source, but writing was now her focus. Yet—sometimes she missed the thrill of the classroom. She poured them both iced tea. “It’s decaffeinated, I’m afraid. My husband will only let me have this because of the baby. Tell me, how did you find out about Susan Weber?”

Katie giggled and followed her to the couch. “I’m a reporter, a writer like you. You know that if you search someone on the net enough you can find out all sorts of things. You have two Facebook accounts. One is as Susan Weber. The other is Harley Michel. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out.”

“Okay, Katie, what do you want to talk about?”

“Your writing, your new life, being ‘outed’ as a writer, the new baby.”

Harley grinned at her. “In other words, everything.”

“You’d better believe it. You’re on the front page of the ‘Living’ section of the paper on Sunday.” Katie took a sip of iced tea, reached in a huge purse for her recorder, and started the interview.

The interview appeared the following Sunday as Katie had promised. Harley’s smiling face beamed from the front page. She looked sexy and alluring in a new designer sarong. The article discussed her newest book and the still-to-be-released book on Grace O’Malley. She talked about her gratitude to her early students for their support and love. She then gushed about her new husband and unborn child.

When the reporter asked her if being fired was the best thing that ever happened to her, Harley said, “Yes, I spend more time on my writing, and I’ve never been happier. Of course, it’s always sad that people you once trusted are the ones who betrayed you and wanted your downfall. Someone who was once my friend instigated my firing, but I don’t dwell on the past. I’m also starting a new project. Once I finish promoting Grace O’Malley, I’m going to begin a book on a stalker.”

Kimberly Cheramie sat in a hotel on Tulane Avenue, smoking cannabis and drinking gin as she read the morning paper. Kimberly grimaced as she read the article and ran into the bathroom, vomiting into the toilet bowl. That bitch had a new baby, husband, and a successful career.

“Why wasn’t all of that mine?”

How lucky was that bitch?

Kimberly balled a fist. Even her career was ruined. Abisi, the bastard, had seen to that. She couldn’t even work in a hospital, but she could cause them grief. The slut had said something about a friend betraying her. Maybe she could find out something from this friend. How? Call the school pretending to be an aluma? Maybe. Staggering back to the table in the dingy room, she took a knife and stabbed the paper repeatedly. “Bitch! Whore!”

“So you like making love to pregnant women?” Harley giggled as Abisi stroked her rounding stomach.

“There is nothing more beautiful than a pregnant woman, my darling, particularly when it’s you.” Abisi laughed, stroked her face, and planted a smoldering kiss on her lips.

“Did my interview embarrass you at the hospital?” Harley laughed as he kissed he stomach. His beard tickled, and he ran his fingertips along her midsection to her womanhood. They lay in bed together the Monday after the interview ran in the paper. Nico pawed on the door. He didn’t like the nights he was locked out. Harley called to him. “Sorry, Nico, go to the guest bedroom.”

“Embarrass me? No, everyone was impressed I’d married a celebrity. Some of the women on staff have read your books. They were all sincerely impressed.” He ran his lips along her breasts and took one in his mouth. “The men also were impressed that I’d gotten a stunning creature like you to marry me. Every man there found you beautiful.”

“I’m glad I wasn’t an embarrassment. I wouldn’t want to think I’d given a respectable doctor a scandalous reputation.” Harley let her lips linger under his chin and then licked him, moving her tongue rapidly. She waited for his groan of pleasure and ducked under the blankets.

“Forget respectability.” Abisi pulled the blankets from her and kissed her neck and shoulders. She sighed with pleasure as Abisi ran his hands along her back, turning her already wet skin to gooseflesh. She let her hands roll along his thighs and legs. Eventually, she searched until she grasped his testes in her hand, massaging them to the point of arousal. He shifted her under him and kissed her legs and thighs until she sighed, melting under his smoldering passion. Waves of pleasure washed over her as he disappeared between her legs, arousing her to ecstasy. Abisi nibbled on her arms and legs until she sighed and relaxed her thighs. Harley buried her fingers into his shoulders as she drew him close, feeling the thrust of his desire enter the precious depths of her fully aroused womanhood. Never had she felt so complete as when she and her lover celebrated the life they had created growing within her.

“Will you be all right to go to London this December?” Abisi collapsed beside her, one arm slung under Harley’s neck.

“No reason not to, my love.” Harley turned onto her side, studying her husband’s face. “Are you worried about me?”

“I’m always worried about you. You’re my life.” Abisi drew her to him and kissed her forehead. “I don’t want to think I’ve done anything to put you in jeopardy.”

She settled under his arm. “There’s no need to worry. I’m fine. I’ve never felt stronger. I’ll be like one of those women working in the fields who has a baby and then gets up and starts working.” She wouldn’t tell him yet about the subtle warning signs she was having. Not yet. Harley prayed it was nothing.

Abisi laughed. “You won’t be having a baby in a field. No, my darling, you’ll have only the best for our little Alexandria.”

“No, not a girl. I protest.” The phone’s ringing interrupted Harley’s laughing.

“Don’t get that.” Abisi panted as he lay against her breasts.

“We have to answer. What if it’s the hospital?” Harley slapped his arm playfully.