Read Laid Out and Candle Lit Online
Authors: Ann Everett
Laid Out and Candle Lit (24 page)
She pulled into her drive, grabbed her head and shouted. “Stop it! Not now. Not today.” She rocked her body back and forth against the seat. “Stop ! It’s over! I’m not with him anymore,” she screamed, turning the radio up to drown them out. Her head grew quiet.
She flew inside, opened a bottle of Champagne, and took a long hard swig. Undressing as she walked down the hall and into the bathroom, she turned the spigot to fill the tub. She returned to the kitchen for the bottle and the chocolates, and took time to slip a CD into the player.
Across the room, Boone stared at her from the picture hanging near the fireplace. Tizzy wedged the Godivas under her arm and held a bottle of bubbly in both hands. She took another pull from the bottle and walked to stand beneath the frame. “What are you looking at? This is all your fault,” she said to Boone’s reflection. “If you hadn’t gone and got yourself killed, I wouldn’t be in this position. Oh, and just so you know, Carla told me all about screwing you.” She turned the bottle up again.
“I’m pissed, Boone. You left me. You screwed Carla.” She brought the champagne to her lips and took another gulp. “Oh, God. I’ve shared a penis with Carla Ferguson!” Tizzy set the bottle down and grabbed the picture off the wall. She opened the desk drawer and shoved it inside, then slammed the drawer shut.
She took two more drinks, pulled the drawer open again and Boone glared up at her. “By the way, I’ve been having sex with a Texas Ranger.” She banged the drawer shut and took another drink. Again, she pulled the picture into view. “Oh, and his penis is bigger than yours.” She shoved the drawer back in and went back to the bathroom.
She stripped off the remainder of her clothes, sank down into the tub, decided to forget about Ridge Cooper and enjoy the comfort of the hot water. The heat eased the ache in her muscles and she had the champagne and chocolate for the ache in her heart. She popped a piece of candy into her mouth and a rush of sweetness melted over her tongue. She took a sip of champagne, let it mix with the Godiva. Little bubbles of chocolate exploded in her mouth.
Heaven. Absolute heaven.
From the other room, music blasted. She ate more candy, drank more bubbly, and sang off-key at the top of her lungs. Once she emptied the first bottle, she started on the next.
* * * * *
“Tizzy! What the hell are you doing?” Rayann screamed from the doorway, throwing her hands in the air. “Shit Tizzy! Is that my Godiva you’re eating?”
Tizzy’s head fell to one side. “Oh . . . hi . . . Rayann. I’m sorry.” Her speech slow, eyelids heavy, and eyes glazed over. “More time . . . and . . . space.” She slurred.
Rayann frowned. “What are you talking about? Is that what Cooper told you? Tizzy, we’ve got to get you out of this water, it’s ice cold,” she said, sticking her hand down into the tub. “Sissy, you’re past a prune and looking like a raisin.”
Tizzy flung her arm over the side of the tub and rested her head on it. “It’s no use. I’ve tried to get out, but I can’t. Just as well. I’m gonna stay here . . . till . . . I wash him out . . . cry him out . . . puke him out . . . never wanna see him again.” She gasped and garbled.
Rayann knelt down. “Honey, he’s not worth this. No man is.”
Tizzy started a whiney cry. “Yes he is. Don’t you understand?” She forced the words out in short gasps. “The man can kiss . . . he gave Gracie a kitten . . . and me an orgasm. Where am I ever gonna find another man like that?”
Rayann shook her head back and forth. “I understand. A kiss, a kitten and an orgasm. That’s a powerful combination. Not to mention a great title for a porn movie. C’mon Tizzy. I’m gonna try to lift you out of the tub.”
Tizzy twisted and turned, trying to give Rayann leverage, but Tizzy couldn‘t make her legs or arms work.
“This isn’t gonna work. As much as I hate to do this, I don’t have a choice,” Rayann said.
Tizzy tried to open her eyes. She tried to protest, but her brain wouldn’t make her mouth work.
Rayann’s conversation sounded like a foggy buzz to Tizzy. “Dwayne? I’ve gotta have your help,” Rayann said, starting to string her words together in an octave above her normal range. “Tizzy’s in a bad way. She’s listening to Patsy Cline and singing along.
You know what that means? She hasn’t listened to Patsy Cline since Boone died. She’s been soaking in water for God only knows how long, and she’s drunk on her ass from champagne and
my
Godiva chocolates. I’ve drained the tub, but I can’t lift her. This is all Cooper‘s fault. What? Put him on the phone.”
Tizzy barely raised her finger, trying say something, but she couldn’t get any words out. And then she heard Rayann yelling into the phone.
“This is your fault! Tizzy told us you were going to hurt her. But we wouldn’t listen. We just wanted her to be happy. Well, you’ve gone and done it now! She’s drunk, in the tub and I can’t get her out. So, unless you want Dwayne to see her little nekked body, you’d better get over here.” Click.
* * * * *
Ten minutes later, Tizzy squinted up at Ridge and tried to raise her head, but only managed to roll it over. “I don’t want you here,” she mumbled.
“Well, that’s too bad,” Ridge said. “Here, let’s get you up.” He lifted her out, wrapped a towel around her and carried her to bed, whispering to her as he laid her down. “Margie Lou, you could have avoided this with one little word.”
Tizzy tried to open her eyes. “Why did you have to come here . . . why did you have to kiss so good . . . why did you make me love . . . ?” Her voice trailed off and she passed out.
Ridge removed the towel, opened the drawer to her bureau, took out a gown and put it on her. He returned to the living room where Bubba and Rayann were waiting. “Thanks for calling, Rayann. She probably shouldn’t be left alone, so I’ll stay with her until you can come back.”
Rayann folded her arms over her chest. “Why did you break up with her?”
He cocked his head. “Is that what she told you? That I broke up with her?”
“She wouldn’t talk about you. Today, she left her mom a note saying she wasn’t coming to work. She wouldn’t answer her phone. So as soon as things died down, Pattiecake thought I’d better check on her. Good thing I did. When I got here, she wasn’t making a lot of sense. She mumbled something about time and space and we all know that translates to
I don’t wanna see you anymore.
”
Ridge clenched his jaw. “For your information, Tizzy asked for time and space. Not me. I proposed.”
Rayann gasped. “You asked her to marry you?”
“Yeah, and she said no.”
Bubba hooked his fingers in his belt. “So, let me get this straight. You asked her to marry you. She said no. And now she’s drunk on her ass because
she
broke up with you? That don’t make a lick of sense.”
Ridge smiled. “She didn’t exactly say no. She said she thought we should take more time to get to know each other. So, I’m giving her time.”
Bubba smiled. “Oh, I get it. Tough love.”
Ridge smirked. “Exactly. And from what I’ve just seen. I’d say it’s working.”
* * * * *
Tizzy struggled to sit up and failed.
Rayann looked up from reading and flipped off her book light. “How are you feeling?”
“Like death warmed over, and I’m pretty sure my teeth have hair growing on ‘em,” she said licking her lips, unable to work up a spit. “What time is it?”
“Six o’clock. Gracie’s spending the night with your parents again.” Rayann moved to sit down on the edge of the bed. “Why don’t you tell me about what’s going on with you and Cooper?”
Tizzy placed her hand on her head and lay back. “Cooper . . . was he here or did I dream it?”
“He was here, all right. Held your hair while you puked in the trash can. Stayed with you until about four, when I came back. He left you some sticky notes. I don’t know what they mean. They’re kinda crazy.”
“Where are they?” Tizzy sat up straight.
“Here on the mirror,” Rayann said.
“Hand them to me, please.” She took the notes and read them aloud, “Green, Presbyterian, March 24, 1978.”
“What do they mean?” Rayann asked.
Tizzy took a deep breath, pressed the notes to her chest. “It’s his favorite color. His faith and his birthday.”
Rayann jumped up. “Oh my God! He’s an Aries. What did I tell you? Your horoscope was right.”
“Bring me the sticky pad, please,” Tizzy said.
* * * * *
Tizzy was sitting in the middle of his bed and heard the wall of notes rustle when he opened the back door. He appeared in the doorway, leaned against the jamb, and flipped his finger out toward where she displayed one of the notes. It, along with the hundred left on the wall, had the single word
yes
written on it.
“Margie Lou, you got something you wanna say to me?”
She took a deep breath. “You were right. About everything.”
He turned his head slightly and cupped his ear. “What was that?”
“I said you were right.”
“Come again.”
“Don’t push it, city boy.” She took a ragged breath. “I
was
falling out of love with Boone when he left. Then he died and I hated him for leaving me, for dying. Then I found out I was pregnant and I felt so guilty for hating him. I was afraid I’d never find anyone else, and I’d convinced myself I didn’t deserve to.”
She started to cry. “Then you show up and you’re . . . perfect. You’re like Christmas and my birthday all rolled into one. Gracie immediately loved you, and that scared me to death. I was terrified I’d love you and you wouldn’t love me back.” She sniffed.
“These past few days, I realized there’s only one place I’m not scared. One place where I feel perfectly safe . . . and that’s in your arms. I do love you. So, if your offer of marriage is still on the table, and I hope it is, my answer is yes.”
Ridge flashed a slow easy smile. “Well . . . that depends. Is the
chicken on a June bug
offer still on the table?”
A smile spread across her face. “Absolutely.”
She jumped from the bed into his arms and they held each other close, heart to heart. “I’ve missed you,” she said.
“Darlin’, I haven’t had any sunshine since I left you at your mother’s.”
“Is that what you’re calling it now . . . sunshine?”
“Shut up, Tizzy. I’m trying to be romantic here.” He stepped to the bedside table, removed the small box, and sat down next to her. “I love that you always smell like fresh baked cookies and you’re a little bit odd when it comes to dead people. But most of all, just the sight of you makes me happy. So, let’s try this one more time.”
He slipped the ring on her finger and kissed her gently. “Will you marry me?”
She kissed him back, then pushed away and whispered. “Yes, and Ridge, by chance are you Democrat?”
“No, is that a deal breaker?”
She shook her head. “No, it’s just another first.”
“Another first? First what?”
You’re my first Republican.”
“Well, whattaya think?”
“I think I have seriously underestimated your party.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
T
he brown envelope slid across the floor as Ridge opened the back door to Browning house. He picked the packet up and examined it. Curious as to where the letter came from, he stepped back outside onto the porch and scanned the area. The smell of bacon drifted through the morning air and the only sound was the chirping courtship of crickets. Pinching the clasp together, he lifted the flap and removed the contents. The heading on the first page read:
Brownsboro Clinic
Insulin Patients January 2008-June 2010.
He replaced the pages, closed the flap, narrowed his eyes toward Tizzy’s, and walked across the lawn.
She would be leaving soon to take part in the breast cancer awareness “Walk for a Cure” campaign. When he opened the door, he yelled out, “Tizzy!”
Her answer echoed down the hall. “Did you forget something?”
When he stepped into the bedroom, his concentration was momentarily broken as he read the slogan on her shirt,
Help Save Second Base, Walk for a Cure.
He held up the brown envelope. “You know anything about this?”
She continued to tuck in her shirt. “I don’t think so.”
“C’mon, Tizzy, do you have any idea how much trouble you can get into for doing this?”
Tizzy sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled on her socks and shoes. “I’m sorry, Ridge, I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”
“This is a list of insulin patients from the clinic. I found it under my door. Now, how do you think the printout got there?”
“No idea,” she said, tying her shoes.
“Tizzy?”
“Are you asking as my fiancé, or as a Texas Ranger?”
“They’re the same.”
“Nuh-huh. As my fiancé, you’re asking because you’re curious. As a law officer, you’re interrogating me because of a crime.”
“Cut the crap, Tizzy. You can get up to twenty-five years for stealing medical information.”
