Honey and Leonard (11 page)

She noticed tears in his eyes as she wiped away her own. "Now, if only the police weren't after us," she joked to ease the emotion.

"They'll never catch us," Leonard said as he got himself together. "We'll stay on the move."

"But it's not that simple," Honey said. "Now that we're in love and in France, I'm afraid I'm going to lose the man I love, like I did this morning at the docks."

"Oh, that was just a temporary thing," Leonard said.

Honey waited to continue the conversation.

"Okay, what's up?" Leonard broke the silence. "What's on your mind? I can tell something's bothering you."

Honey took a long sip of her wine before answering, "I'm not talking about losing you physically. I'm talking about losing you mentally." Honey fidgeted in her chair and stabbed at her lobster a bit before continuing. "Leonard, let me just say it. I'm afraid you've got Alzheimer's, and it frightens me to death."

Leonard looked out on the sparkling sea and seemed to become lost in watching the endless waves rolling into shore. Honey began to think he might not be willing to address the issue. Then he smiled wryly and said, "Honey, I've known about my memory problem for more than a year now. Things are not going to get better for me. They're going to get worse. You deserve better. But I'm going to keep giving you everything I've got until there's nothing left to give. From what I've read, there's nothing anybody can do about the damned disease. Why do you think I gave Gretchen the Power of Attorney and let her talk me into living in that god awful nursing home?"

"You sound so matter of fact about it. Aren't you scared?"

"No more than I am afraid of dying. And, may I remind you, that's coming soon to a theater near both of us."

Honey sat up straighter in her chair as if cold water had just dripped down her back. "Well, then, I propose a toast. Are you ready?"

"Of course," Leonard said, raising his glass.

"I propose a toast to living it up, right here and right now."

"I'll drink to that," Leonard laughed. "That is exactly what we're doing. In fact, I can't think of any two people on the planet who are doing a better job of it than we are."

The grilled lobster turned out to be a little too dry and way too much work. Honey gave up on it after a couple bites. The rest of their luncheon, however, was as good as the view. The sun reflected on the waves, and the waves pounded the rocky shore. Honey and Leonard sipped their wine slowly and planned their trip down the coast of France, heading east. Their next stop would be Cassis. Nobody at the restaurant seemed to have recognized them, but they knew they had to keep moving.

As they were getting back in the car after lunch, Honey returned to their philosophical discussion and asked, "What do you think happens to you when you die?"

Leonard started the car and said,
"It's going to be a lot like it was before you were born."
 

Honey found that interesting and funny and comforting. It was so . . . Leonard.

"I think I'll just be happy with what I've got," she said.

"That's my girl," Leonard said as he drove the priest's black sedan down the winding road along the rocky cliffs.

"So let me get this straight," Lindvall said. "Your client is a suspect in an attempted murder case. She flees the jurisdiction with the man she allegedly tried to poison. She thumbs her nose at the court's no-contact order. She's arguing her case in newspapers and television stations around the world, trying to make us all look like fools. And you want me to say the whole thing has been a big mistake on my part? What I should do is file obstruction of justice charges against Jack Crumbo and
The Chicago Tribune
for refusing to reveal Honey and Leonard's location."

Nimmo realized he had to respond carefully. "I don't think you're looking bad here," he began. "I think you did what you had to do, considering the evidence in front of you at the time. All I'm asking you to do now is consider some newly discovered evidence."

Lindvall looked at Nimmo like she was ready to pay attention. 

Nimmo continued, "I have three documents I would like you to review."

"You've got the floor."

"Thank you. First of all, here's a report from a forensic pathologist who says Leonard Atkins was never poisoned in the first place. It was his years of exposure to pesticides on the farm that led to high levels of arsenic in his blood."

Lindvall read the report carefully and said, "Has this guy looked at the actual blood work?"

"No, but he will if you convince Adult Protective to turn it over."

Lindvall thought about that proposition for a moment and then said, "All right, what's the second thing?"

"The second thing is this Power of Attorney that Leonard gave to his niece, Gretchen Atkins. This is where the plot thickens. Gretchen got control of his money and now she wants him declared incompetent so he can't get it back. She wants Honey out of the picture because Honey asks too many questions. That's why she used the blood tests against her."

"How did you get this?"

"Leonard gave his copy to Honey and Honey gave it to me with his permission."

"What do you mean she used the blood tests against Honey?"

"Once the arsenic showed up in his blood, she should have had more tests done on him. Instead, she went right to the police and adult protective."

The prosecutor thought about that argument for a moment before asking, "So what's the deal? Is Leonard competent or is he not?"

"He's more competent than you or I most of the time," Nimmo said.

"What do you mean, 'most of the time'?"

"I mean he has his moments of forgetfulness like anybody his age."

"So why doesn't he just revoke the Power of Attorney and be done with Gretchen?"

"Because he's in France with Honey and he can't turn himself in because she'll go to jail on the charge you have filed against her."

Lindvall leaned back in her chair. She kept her poker face but she looked like she was thinking hard as she continued staring at the documents. Nimmo could see he was making progress.

"I can't drop the Invasion of Privacy charge for her violating the no-contact order and leaving the country with Leonard. That's just blatant disregard for the law."

"What if the attempted murder investigation shows Leonard was never poisoned? That would mean the no-contact order was never needed."

"You do know Honey and I have been friends for a long time?"

"Honey has only spoken of you in the most glowing terms," Nimmo said.

Lindvall smiled tightly at that remark as if to say, "I know you're kissing my ass now."

"This isn't about Honey," Nimmo said. "This is about Leonard's niece, Gretchen, a retired school teacher manipulating the system so she can keep stealing her uncle's money."

"You keep saying that but you can't prove it."

"No, but that brings us to the third item of newly discovered evidence I would like you to consider. He knew the final document would be the trump card. He handed it across the desk and said, "This is part of an application for a zoning variance. It shows somebody is trying to turn Leonard's farm into a housing subdivision. That somebody is doing business with Gretchen Atkins, and you can bet Leonard has no idea what's going on."

Lindvall read and reread the document. 
The prosecutor looked up at Nimmo and said, "The only thing that doesn't make sense is why Gretchen would turn on her Uncle Leonard. Those two have been like father and daughter for as long as I can remember."

"The two oldest motivators in the world," Nimmo said. "It's greed and jealousy. Gretchen's been spending her uncle's money like it was her own for years. Now, Honey comes along to steal not only his affections but also Gretchen's entire inheritance. In Gretchen's jealous mind, she's not betraying her uncle, she's protecting him from Honey."

"Very interesting, Mr. Nimmo. But none of this changes the fact that your client fled my jurisdiction in direct violation of a court order. The fact that she's my friend has nothing to do with it. I don't do special favors. The people of Wabash County didn't elect me to play favorites."

"All I'm asking is that you look into the matter," Nimmo said as Lindvall showed him the door. "I'm not looking for a fast answer."

"Lucky for you," Lindvall said.

"Leonard," she nearly screamed. "Stop playing games. You're frightening me."

A tremendous rustling in the row behind made her turn around quickly. She felt like some beast of the night was about to devour her. She knew what was going on, but that didn't stop her heart from pounding in her chest.

Leonard popped out of the corn with a big laugh and wrapped his strong, young arms around her. She struggled only momentarily before relaxing into the warmth of his embrace and the excitement of his kiss. They were young and in love and alone. The night was their canvas, and they knew exactly what to paint. Tonight they would be more than painters. They would be artists.

Leonard spread out a blanket in the space between the rows of corn and laid her down and began kissing her from the neck down. She made no protest as he took off her top and eased his muscular, bare chest onto her full, naked breasts. Her skin melted into his. He felt better than Clark Gable looked in
Gone With the Wind
.

The moon and all the stars in the world were shining down on their love-nest. They made love slowly and perfectly. They became one. He was gentle and smooth. He filled her with love. She kissed him deeply yet tenderly.

There were no bugs. All she could smell was ripe corn, rich soil and Leonard's scent mixing with her own. He was the farmer and she was the field. She felt like she was being harvested.

Hearing herself moaning, Honey awakened from the dream to find herself in bed with a sleeping Leonard. She couldn't remember where she was as she threw her leg and arm over him. It didn't matter where they were. They were together.

"Leonard," she whispered, still buzzing from the erotic dream. "Wake up sleepy head. I just had the most fantastic dream about us."

He rolled over and rubbed his eyes. "Were we in a cornfield making love when we were kids?"

Honey's eyes widened. She almost choked on her own surprise.
How could he know that? Was he with me in the dream? Have I had that dream before and told him about it? No, I haven't had that dream before.

"Leonard," she said as she grabbed his shoulders with both hands. "Look at me. Are you telling me you've been making love to me in cornfield dreams? Were you just having that dream?"

"I don't know if I was just now having that dream, but I've had the dream before. At least it feels like I have. By the way, you should see yourself at eighteen. You are one hot little number. Almost as cute as you are now."

"No, no, don't joke. I need to know if we've been meeting each other in dreams. I need to know if it's the same dream or maybe we're just having similar dreams."

"Pumpkin, doesn't it make sense that if you love someone, you love them on all levels, not just the wake-up world."

"The wake-up world?"

"Yes, the wake-up world as opposed to the dream world."

Honey got up out of the bed and went into the bathroom to splash some warm water on her face. She looked much worse than she had seen herself in the dream.
How can you see yourself in a dream?

Returning to Leonard, she said, "Just what do you know about the dream world?"

"I know it might be more real than the wake-up world."

"All right, I get that kind of thinking. But let me ask you, specifically, how do we find the room to make love in the middle of a cornfield?"

"You know. You were there. I just throw down a blanket between the rows. There's plenty of room."

"Leonard, stop. I wasn't there. We were dreaming."

"Honey, the only difference between dreams and what we call reality is what we choose to believe. Dreams don't just come true. They are the truth."

Honey looked at him like she was seeing him for the first time. "I never thought about it like that. I never thought I'd be making love to you in my dreams as a young woman. I'm still not sure what's real about my dreams."

"I'll tell you one thing, for sure," Leonard said. "My thoughts on reality have changed a lot since I started having these spells of forgetfulness."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, for example, I often see my mother again. She's been gone for years, but I am convinced it is really her I see and it is really her who talks to me. What does it matter if it's really her or if I'm just making her up? She's still there and I still get comfort from talking to her. She loves you, by the way."

"Leonard, I never met the woman, but I'm sure she was, or is, a wonderful person. In fact, next time you see her, tell her I said so."

"Don't make fun."

She fell into his arms, pushed him back into bed and said, "No, I'm not making fun. You just continue to amaze me, that's all."

Honey got out of bed. She felt a little creaky in doing so. Her back was hurting as if she had actually been lying on the uneven ground of a cornfield. She began stretching and remembering where she was.

They were in a villa in Cassis, halfway up the low-slung mountains and overlooking the Mediterranean bay. The room they had rented the night before was the bottom floor of a three-story, stone structure in the middle of a connected row of dwellings on a street barely wide enough for one small automobile to pass. The front windows were boarded for safety so they couldn't see what they knew must be a wonderful view. Walking out the back door, they found a ladder from the garden to the roof.

"I'm not sure about this," Leonard said, looking up the ladder's twenty-two steps. "I'm not as good on ladders as I used to be. I swore off ladders the last time I cleaned my gutters. That was ten years ago. I was sixty-six years old then. I distinctly remember thinking how old that was."

"No matter how old you are," Honey said, "ten years later you'd give anything to be that young again."

"Isn't that the terrible truth?"

"Let me remind you how it's done," Honey said as she nudged her way around him and started up the ladder. They were both wearing the flannel pajamas they had splurged on in a Paris boutique.

"Don't you think we'd better get dressed first?" Leonard asked as she quickly climbed halfway up the ladder.

Honey stopped and looked down to say, "We are dressed. These outfits cost enough to show this little town who we are."

"I don't know, pumpkin. Lots of people can see you once you're on the roof. Remember what happened to us in Avignon. Dancing on top of that tower showed those reporters exactly where we were."

"Come on, sweetie. It's early. No one will see us. Start climbing and stop stalling. It's easy. Just take the steps one at a time." She continued up the ladder.

"You make this sound like an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting."

"It
is
an AA meeting," she said, looking down from the roof. "That stands for Adult Adventurers. That's what we are. Come on, sweetie, show me what you got."

Leonard made it to the top with much less difficulty than Honey had anticipated. Her taunting must have given him just the boost of energy needed to make the climb. Honey chuckled as she realized the schoolyard competitiveness that had become part of their relationship. Even at seventy-six, he didn't like the notion of being shown up by a "girl," especially a woman who was a year older than him.

Once they hauled themselves up and onto the roof, they took in the breathtaking view of the ancient fishing harbor. The natural port, known as the Gulf of Cassis, is nearly surrounded by giant maritime cliffs that have been sailors' landmarks since ships began to sail. Nestled between the rock walls and the shoreline is a village of pastel-painted buildings. Fishing vessels bob and reflect in the water along with sightseeing boats and the much larger yachts of the wealthy. Masts and sails and wooden decking shine in the sun like a painting by Edouard Manet.

"Oh, Leonard," Honey said. "This is too good to be true. Last night we came in the dark. I had no idea how beautiful this place really is. Let's stay here forever."

She began feeling lightheaded as she spoke. At first, it felt like a natural response to the overwhelming scenery. But it was more than that. Before she knew what was happening, Honey was fainting. 

Honey was not breathing.

Her color quickly faded. Her eyes were closed and she looked lifeless. She was beginning to turn slightly gray as Leonard began administering cardiopulmonary resuscitation. Due to his own heart condition and the advice of doctors, he had taken several courses in CPR. Even so, the act of pushing on Honey's chest and trying to give her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation filled him with dread. It took him right back to the terrible time when he had not been able to save his own daughter from her drowning tragedy. He wasn't about to lose another loved one without a fight.

"Honey," he barked as he continued his frantic efforts. "Honey, stay with me."

Suddenly, the gorgeous scenery of Cassis turned into a menacing, medical, no-man's land. There was no way he could summon help, let alone expect any to arrive. He couldn't take the time to go back down the ladder and look for someone who might understand the situation. He knew he had to keep pushing on Honey's chest. He was her only hope. He pushed harder, many more times, waiting several seconds between each push. He stopped to listen, checking inside her mouth with his fingers to make sure she hadn't swallowed her tongue. She wasn't breathing, but her color didn't seem to be getting any worse. She had not swallowed her tongue.

Leonard could see his only daughter dying in front of him all over again. After fifty years, the image was still painfully fresh. He had watched his daughter dying every single day of his life. At least Honey had not taken in too much water. There was still hope.

His life would be empty without her. His life would be over.

"Please, God, don't let her die," Leonard implored as he rested between pushes.

Honey's left hand began to twitch. Leonard wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad sign. He kept pushing and trying to talk to her. He felt himself sobbing with every push. He was losing her. He was losing strength. Only resting for several seconds between each effort kept him going. Honey was running out of time. Leonard was desperate.

"God," he said, looking to the sky. "Please don't take her from me now. I've got so much left to give her. Please, please, help."

On the next push, Honey's eyes opened and she gasped for breath. Leonard's rescue efforts were working. She was coming back. He kept pushing, more gently, until she pushed his hands away.

"Stop, you're hurting me."

He straightened up, still kneeling, and looked at her like he was about to cry. He was exhausted and emotionally drained, breathing heavily and feeling lightheaded himself. He looked at the sky and said, "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Honey was still disoriented but she could see Leonard was thanking God for her breathing again. She had always known he was a man of faith but she had never figured out exactly what it was he believed in.

"Who are you thanking?" she asked.

"I'm thanking God you're still alive. I thought you were leaving me."

"What does she look like?" Honey teased, beginning to come to her senses.

Leonard laughed at the notion God was female and kissed Honey on the forehead so hard she thought she might pass out again. "I don't know what she looks like," Leonard said, "but I'm sure glad she's there."

Honey's return to the world of the breathing was like Lazarus coming back to life in the Gospel of John. Leonard looked at her in awe and held her hand as if she might be an angel who would soon fly away. He tried to talk her back into full consciousness, "Don't try to move, pumpkin. Just keep breathing."

"What happened?" she asked as she struggled to get up on her right elbow.

"Don't try to move. I'm pretty sure you just had a heart attack or a stroke. We've got to get you to a hospital."

Honey took a couple deep breaths and took a long look around. "Where are we?"

"We're in Cassis, France. We're on the roof. Look, there's the harbor."

"Why are you wearing pajamas?"

"We just woke up and decided to climb up on the roof so we could get a good view of the harbor."

"Why am I wearing pajamas that look so much like yours?"

"We bought them in Paris. Think back. You can remember. Take deep breaths. It will come to you."

"I must have fainted. Oh, Leonard, it's you. I didn't recognize you at first."

"Yes, it's me and I'm afraid you did more than just faint. I think you had a heart attack."

"What makes you say that?"

"I had to bring you back with CPR. You weren't breathing. You were starting to turn blue. We've got to get you to a hospital."

"We're not going to any hospital," Honey said as she began to gather her thoughts. "I remember where we are now. And I remember why we're here. The police are after us. No, we won't be going to any hospital or even to a doctor. That would be the end for us. So listen to me. What you're going to do is go back to the room and get me one of my heart pills. Can you do that? I remember the ladder now. It's not an easy climb. I think it might be the climb that got me. I was showing off. I came up too fast."

"I can go get you a pill, but I don't think it's a good idea for you to take my medicine."

"Leonard, I've never told you, but I've had this happen at least two times in the past three years. You know what the doctor gave me? It's nitro, or something similar. That's all I need. Now, go get me a pill. I've got my own. I don't need one of yours. It's in a little pink prescription container in the bottom of my purse. My purse is in the bathroom, next to the sink. See how good my memory is? Better bring a bottle of water too. I'm probably dehydrated."

Leonard looked at her like he was getting a new lease on life. "Thank you, Lord," he shouted to the sky.