| "Baby? Baby, where are you?" Lance moved through the air conditioned living room into the game room. It was unlike her not to be around. She was always around, either reading the latest Jackie Collins novel or chatting on line with her relatives back home. For the entire two weeks she'd lived with him, she hadn't bothered to even leave the house. Sctarching his head, he pulled open the sliding glass doors leading to the large deck in the backyard. He shaded his eyes from the bright Mississippi sun and glanced down to the pool. There she sat, cross legged, headphones placed over her ears, her ponytail swaying back and forth in time with whatever music she was listening to. Sighing, he strolled down the steps and unlatched the gate leading to the pool. He crept up behind her, plucking the headset from her head. "Hey," he smiled, kneeling down behind her. "I didn't think you'd be out here." She smiled back, leaning into his arms. "I was feeling better," she said softly. "What time is it?" Lance sat down, placing one leg on either side of her. "About three. Did you take your meds yet?" Concern and worry creased lines in his forehead and he rested his chin on her shoulder, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. "Not yet. It's so nice out. I wanted to just get some air." She let her eyes close, dropping her head back on him. "Don't make me go in, not yet." The pleading in her voice saddened him, and while he hated to spoil her moment in the sun, he knew that the powerful medication lost it's potency in the sun. Still, he wanted to give her a few more minutes. "I turned the air up inside. It'll be cooler when you go back in." Kissing her neck lightly, he drank her in, trying to savor the moment, her scent, her very being. He couldn't imagine his life without her. The tour had seemed neverending, and she was too weak to travel to him, leaving them both frustrated and lonely for each other. But it was over now, and once the holidays passed, he'd insisted upon her staying with him. He didn't want to loose out on another moment, not even one. "What do you feel like for dinner? I could barbeque, or we could order in." "Lance, do you think it hurts? I mean to die?" Her question dug into him, stopping his heart and blazing a trial of pain into his soul. Her pale blue eyes met his with trust, and the hopes he wouldn't lie, not to her, not now. His mind whirled, spun out of control. The very possiblility of loosing her was not something he wanted to think of. The doctors assured him they'd gotten most of the tumor out. Now it was just a waiting game. He knew that God could take her, hell, God could take anyone at anytime. Her question lingered in his mind, and he couldn't find words to respond. "Do you?" she repeated. Although she could see the pain set deep in his green eyes, she needed to talk about it, about the possiblility that she could die, the tumor could still kill her. "I want to know what you really think. Your family is so religious, you must have some thoughts on it. Tell me. I want to know." He swalllowed hard, forcing the words from his lips. "I believe in heaven. I think that God is good, and he doesn't punish people for the little things. I think we all get to heaven, and we're whole, we're saved." His deep voice wavered as tears found their way to his eyes. "I think sometimes He takes people too early, but there's a reason, and He has a reason for it all." He paused, lost in his own sound. "I don't think it hurts. I don't think He would let it hurt. I think that's why He takes people sometimes, to stop the hurt." Honestly, Lance didn't know, he just wanted to comfort her in any way he could. Death could come knocking at any moment and he didn't want her to be scared. "Come on, let's go eat. You need to take your meds too." Standing up, he gazed out over the man made lake in his backyard, the jet skis silent on the water, the dock bouncing gently. How many times had he gone out to that deck, stared up at the millions of stars that twinkled in the sky, and begged the Lord for mercy, to heal her completely and give her health back to her. He'd promised to give up all his wealth, money, worldly goods, all of it if only.... "Lance? Honey? You okay?" She stood beside him, her fingers intertwined with his. "Whatcha thinking about?" She knew the look all too well, the distance in his eyes, the confusion and want for things to be as they were, before the tumor was discovered, before the surgery, before it all. "I'm fine," he lied, giving her hand a squeeze. "Now, let's go on in. I want to let you listen to some new artists, see what you think." Tugging on her, he lead the way, carefully watching her for any signs of weakness. Sometimes she got dizzy, or fainted, and sometimes the pain came and she would collapse from the intensity of it all. Her vision was less than 100% and she stumbled often. "I think I want a cheeseburger. A big one." She followed him up the steps and into the kitchen. "And pickles. Oh, and a salad, a green one. You know the kind I like. With the big crutons." Lance grinned, kissing her lips. "Is that it madame? Anything else I can get you?" He enjoyed her appetitle, it was the one thing that stayed healthy. No matter how sick she felt, she always ate. "Why are you so good to me?" she asked, burying her head in his chest. He held her to him, feeling her heartbeat against him. "Cuz I love you." "I'm lucky," she said, pulling back and sitting on the stool at the middle island. "I'm glad you're off tour. I know you miss it, but God, I missed you. Shit, I even missed Joey and his stupid jokes." Lance laughed, a deep, rich laugh that came from within. "Wow, you must be ill, babe. Missing Joey isn't something I thought I'd hear you say." Pocketing his car keys, he studied her. "You going to be alright if I run down to the store and get some food?" He moved closer and brushed a stray piece of blonde hair from her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. He let his finger stray over the rubies he'd gotten her in July for her birthday. "I'll be fine. Oh, and get some ice cream. But none of that butter pecan crap. Get real ice cream, like chocolate, or rocky road. Yeah, and some of those cool cones." She stretched her arms over her head and grinned. Lance cocked his head and rolled his eyes. "Okay. Now take your meds. Don't make me call my mother. She's only ten minutes away and you know how she gets....." "I know, I know," she laughed, recalling the previous week when Mrs. Bass had driven straight over after she'd refused to take any more drugs. All she'd wanted was to relax and be normal, not have to relay on perscriptions to keep her going. The stubborness had sent Lance into a panic, and he dialed his mother immediately. She was no nonsense, and had demanded the drugs be taken, even going so far as to stand over and be sure it was done. "Alrighty then, take them and I'll be right back." He patted his pocket, making sure his cell phone was there and pecked her cheek. "Call me if you need me, okay?" His smile disappeared, replaced with a look of concern, of seriousness. "Promise?" She rolled her eyes, snatching some grapes from the fruit bowl and popping them in her mouth. "Geez, I promise," she sighed, hopping off the stool and retrieving a bottle of water from the fridge. He nodded, taking one more look at her. "Be right back," he promised, heading out the front door. When he was gone, she ignored her pills and signed on to the computer, checking her e-mail and working on her daily journal. Lance had been her savior when all had seemed so lost, and for him she kept a dairy of sorts, jotting down little ideas and quotes, words of emotion that she could never seem to tell him. If she did die, he would surely find it and know just how special he'd been to her. Swigging from her bottle, she typed furiously, spelling out on the screen everything she wished she could say to him. "Babe, they didn't have rocky road so I got you chocolate dream. It's got...." Lance froze when he saw her body, lifeless on the floor next to the computer in their room. His feet stuck to the carpet like glue, and his body shook with uncertainty. "Baby?" he croaked, staring at her body. He didn't need to check her to know she was gone, he just knew. Still, he wanted to deny it, pretend it wasn't true, dream she was just asleep. Slowly he moved toward her, a deafening hum forming in his ears. The pastel colors of their bedroom blurred before him and the ceiling fan whirred quietly overhead. "Please, God," he cried, falling to his knees. Nothing could prepare his being for the pain that ripped at him and he scooped her body to him, cradeling it gently. "No, no, no," he chanted, letting the salty tears run down his cheeks. He kissed the top of her head, stroking her long, blonde hair back, With one fluid moment, he used the palm of his hand to close her eyelids, giving her the peace in death she deserved. His cell phone jingled, startling him. Bleary eyed, he clicked it on, recognizing his mother's number. "Mama, mama, she's gone. Mama, I need you. Can you come over right away?" His words broke apart and he nodded wordlessly as his mother whispered she was on her way. That's how she found them, Lance rocking her body, stroking her hair and singing softly to her. "Lance, honey?" his mother said, resting her hand on her son's shoulder. "The paramedics are here, honey. They need to look at her." Her son didn' t move, only clutched his love closer. She tried again. "Sweetheart, they need to check her. I need you to come with me." Her heart broke when he looked up at her, his eyes red rimmed and teary, his face fallen. "Mama?" he asked. "Why?" She had no answers for her son, and the obvious pain on his face was nothing compared to what grief he still had to face. "Come with me," she said firmly, extending her hand to him. He took it, as he hadn't done since he was a child, and let himself be lead out into the hall while several strangers rushed into the room. Taking him in her arms, she hugged him tightly, and let him sob on her. "It's okay, baby. Let it out. She's at peace now. She's with the Lord. You did your job. You took care of her, showed her love and life. It was her time to go." Lance sniffled and pulled back a bit. "No, she taught me. She taught me what was important in life, how precious life is, how to make everyday count." He wiped his tears with the back of his sleeve. "I loved her, mama. I never loved anyone like that before." "I know, baby. I know." She shook her head and pulled him back into her, trying as only a mother can to comfort in time of need. Lance, my love, I know if you've found this, I am gone. I wouldn't let you find it otherwise. You're not that much of a snoop. Everyday I find another reason to love you. Today it was the fact that you tried not to pull me in outof the sun when you knew I shouldn't be out. I could see the panic in your eyes when you came to get me, yet, you still let me stay for a bit. Now, you're gone, at the store, indulging me with my choice of dinner. How can I be so lucky? You know, when we met a year ago, I didn't think it would turn into this. Not ever. I'm not that lucky. You're an angel, truly. I believe that, Lance. I believe you were sent by God to your family, your fans, your friends, and most of all, to me. You show it in eveything you do, from charity events, to taking care of your family, to your neverending love and respect for your fans. That's rare, Lance. You're a rare gem, and I am the lucky one to have found you. I can't wait to spend eveyday of your down time with you....that's what I want. That's what I That's all there was, and Lance blinked hard at the last words she'd written. Her body had been taken to the appropriate place, and he sat alone, only noticing the computer when he tried to lay down. Her scent still encompassed their bedroom, and everywhere, she was there. His mother had wanted him to stay the night with her, in his old bedroom. He declined, needing to be where he could still feel her. Now, he'd found a treausure, her journal, full of comforting words, and loving expression. In death, she was trying to care for him, and he smiled through the tears, reading on into the night. "I love you," he gasped, clutching her nightgown to his face as he read on. Pages and pages, all for him. Memories for the future, a help for the pain. In death, she continued to comfort him and that's all he could hope for. |
| FOR ME by destiny |