Pink Neon Dreams (36 page)

She stood with her back to him, gazing out of the window.
 
He noticed she’d pulled her cornrows back and
tied them with a ribbon in a modified sort of ponytail.
 
Daniel watched her for a few moments and then
said, “
Querida.”

Cecily turned and rocketed to his side. “Hey, sugar,” she said.
“You look better, a little.”

“I feel better,” he said, but he winced as he shifted position.
“What’s the doctor say?”

Her grin lit the room brighter than the sunlight. “He says
you’ll recover just fine.
 
Soon as you
feel up to it, there’s a long line of people waiting to see you.
 
Your boss from Kansas City, he’s one of
them.”

In a bright pink blouse, Cecily sparkled.
 
Her eyes shone bright as she gazed down at
him and her hand wrapped in his gave him comfort. “Did he come to fire me or
arrest you?” he asked, hoping neither one would happen.

“Huh-uh,” she replied. “I’m cleared of any suspicion and I
think he wants to give you some award or commendation or something.
 
You should’ve told me you had back up when I
went in there with your great-grandma’s Comanche knife, sugar. I could’ve got
my ass shot.”

The last moments before everything went dark played across his
mind and he shuddered. “I thought you
did,
querida.
I saw you fall over after I
heard a shot. But unless I’m crazy, I thought you knifed the bastard first.”

She smiled. “I did.
 
Then
I fainted, nerves and not eating all day can cause that, I hear.
 
But I wasn’t out more than a minute or two.
The shot took down Johnson before he had a chance to kill me or shoot you again,
but the dude who fired it told me I probably killed the asshole—he just hadn’t
died yet.”

“Who fired?”

“That Martin, your boss,” Cecily said. “He was almost as upset
as me when you were lying in your own blood on the floor.
 
And the guy you didn’t like, the one treated
me so mean in Springfield, Tillman?”

“Yeah?”

“He showed up after everything went down and tried to put me in
handcuffs, the son of a bitch,” Cecily said with a little laugh. “I heard he
got his ass canned for it, too.
 
Seems like the FBI has a job opening to head up the Springfield
satellite office too or so I hear.”

Maybe because he remained physically weak or perhaps because he
loved this damn woman so much, tears came into his eyes.
 
What she didn’t say loomed big and
important.
 
He’d wondered how their
relationship would be, after, if they both lived.
 
Now they were here, on the other side of it,
and Cecily mentioned a job, one which could put him within easy commuting
distance of Branson.
 
She wants a future together as much as I do.
 
Although he hadn’t doubt it, the reality
evoked raw, powerful emotion, but he tried not to show it.
 
Instead, he said, with what he hoped was a
casual tone, “You hear a lot,
querida.”

“Don’t I?” she said. “Before I heard about the job opening, I’d
come across some mention of space for rent in Country Club Plaza up in Kansas
City, too.
 
And rental openings in somewhere
called Zona Rosa, more at Bannister Mall and the Blue Ridge Mall. Who knows? I
might just relocate or open a second store, give this one to Nia.”

He asked, although he thought he knew the answer. “She’s okay,
right, Nia?”

Cecily nodded. “She’s good.
 
Thinks you’re some kind of hero now.
 
I’m gonna have to watch her around you, I think.”

Then she winked and he grinned. “You have nothing to worry
about,
mi corazon
. I guess the only
question is whether we stay here or end up in Kansas City.
 
Where do you want to be?”

Her expression shifted to a sober one and her eyes met his,
open and unafraid. “There’s only one place I want to be, sugar,” she said. “I
want to be where you are, where you come home at the end of the day.
 
I don’t care where.”

Joy filled his soul and expanded outward. “Then we’ll see what
happens,” he replied. “It’s what I want, too,
querida.
”
 
Their hands clung
and he wished he could hold her in his arms.
 
Soon, he would.
 
After a few
minutes, he said, “You said a long line of people. Who else is out there
besides Martin?”

“I think you’d better just see them,” Cecily said. “Do you feel
strong enough for more company?” Her brow furrowed as she asked and he nodded,
touched by her concern.

“I think so.
 
They don’t
have to stay long, do they?” he asked. Who could it be, anyway, except maybe Cecily’s
cousin and some fellow FBI agents—he didn’t know anyone else here.

Her lips twitched with suppressed laughter. “No more than you
want, sugar.
 
I’ll go get them.”

Daniel watched her leave the room and then used the automatic
controls to raise the bed so he wasn’t prone.
 
Cecily came back within minutes, grinning wide and stepped aside so
someone else could enter first.
 
He’d
prepared a stern look to greet Martin, but his mother walked into his hospital
room and to his bedside.
 
Her blue eyes
shimmered with unshed tear, but her voice was calm as she said, “
Mi hijo,
it’s good to see you.
 
How do you feel?”

“I hurt,” he said, his voice choked with emotion, moved she’d come
so far to see how he fared. “But I’m alive and that’s all that matters. I’ll
heal.”

“
Si
,” Luz replied. “I
prayed to God, to all the angels and saints, and to the dead.”

She leaned over to kiss his forehead and moved away.
 
Michael stood behind her, his grin more than
a little shaky, but he gripped Daniel’s hand and greeted him.
 
“Sara and Anna wanted to come, too,” Michael said.
“Mama said ‘no’, you would be all right.
 
She was sure—I wasn’t, so I’m glad you’ve improved.
 
I didn’t want to bury my brother.”

“I told you that you wouldn’t,” Luz said. “And your sisters,
their families, and Tomas too are coming later to see you.
 
We’re going to have a
fiesta
when they do.
 
If you
want you can come home to Texas to recover.”

Home meant one thing to him now.
 
Daniel met Cecily’s dark eyes and she nodded.

“Thanks, Mama,” he said. “But I think I’ll heal just fine here,
but we’ll come back for the fiesta.
 
And
I’m glad you came, you and Michael. It means everything.”

Luz smiled. “We’re family.
 
And now we’re going to let you rest awhile. You look tired.”

“You’re not going back to Texas yet?”

“No,” she said.
“Soon but not yet.
 
Te amo, mi hijo.”

With another quick kiss, she left, Michael with her, leaving
Andrew Martin.
 
His boss approached the
bed, but he didn’t shake hands and he sure as hell didn’t offer a kiss.
 
“I won’t stay long,” Martin said. “I just
wanted to tell you what good work you did and express how glad the bureau is
you’ll recover.
 
And, I wanted to
apologize for the attitude toward Ms. Brown and Frank Tillman’s actions. He
acted out of line and I’m sorry.”

“
De nada,”
Daniel
said. “Thank you.”

Fatigue rushed over him with the force of a quarterback making
the winning touchdown and he sighed.

Cecily seemed to notice. “Thanks,” she told Martin. “I
appreciate all you’ve done.”

When no one remained but Cecily, he sighed, loud and long. “Are
you okay, sugar?” she asked as she dropped the rails on the hospital bed to sit
facing him.
 
She smoothed a few stray
hairs back from his forehead.

“I’m just tired,” he said.
“And thirsty.”

She poured water for him again and he sipped it. Then he slept,
soothed by her presence and secure in their love.

****

Two
weeks later….

Once she had him home, she hovered worse than a news helicopter
over a traffic jam.
 
Cecily longed to
pamper Daniel, to cosset him and spoil him, all because he’d scared years off
her life when she saw him pitch to the floor, twice shot and bleeding
hard.
 
If he’d died
…she would begin to think and then wouldn’t be unable
to complete it because it was too horrible to contemplate.
 
She preferred not to think about the hectic
moments after or how she knelt on the floor beside him, screaming his
name.
 
The hours spent waiting at the
hospital while the staff stabilized him and then performed surgery, the endless
time spent outside ICU so she could visit for short minutes each hour, and the
long days as he improved were difficult.
 
Although she’d put on a brave face and smile for Daniel, Cecily trembled
inside, still worried and afraid to believe he survived.

After he shared his near death experience with her, she freaked
out even more.
 
Cecily tried to get him
to rest in bed once he arrived at her house after being released, but he
refused.
 
Daniel preferred sprawling on
the couch.
 
She plumped pillows for him
and offered blankets even though temperatures hit record highs for early
September.
 
Cecily opened cans of soup
and made gourmet sandwiches, baked cakes, cookies, and brownies in a cooking
frenzy.
 
If he asked for anything, she
stumbled over her own feet in a rush to provide it and each time he got up to
totter to the bathroom, she insisted on walking beside him in case he should
fall.

By noon on the second day after he came home, Daniel became
silent.
 
He stared at the television with
a pained expression and each time he visited the bathroom, he shut the door and
stayed awhile.
 
Worried almost sick, Cecily
waited until he settled back onto the sofa, seated and not prone, and said,
“Sugar, are you feeling worse? You’re so quiet.”

Daniel patted the cushion beside him. “Sit down,
querida
, we need to talk.”

Her concerns raged out of control. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” he said. “I’m doing very well, much better.
 
I feel good, just a little weak and there’s
some pain, but it’s to be expected.
 
Please, sit down so I can say this.”

Cecily sank onto the floor at his feet and stared up at him,
heart racing. “What is it?”

“I’m not made out of glass,” he said, his tone gentle and kind.
“I won’t break and you’re not going to hurt me.
 
I’m not a baby, either.
 
I love
you and I know you love me.
 
And I know
you were scared when I got shot.
 
But you
have to let go of the fear.
 
If you
don’t, it’s going to eat you up.
 
I
understand you want to take care of me,
querida,
and I like it, sometimes.
 
I like it
when you want to comb my hair or make food I love, but it’s too much.”

Her first response was hurt, followed by irritation, but she
listened and by the time he finished, she understood the sense of his words. Cecily
leaned against his right thigh and put her head in his lap.
 
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just still shake
all over when I think about what could’ve happened.”

“But it didn’t,” he said. “Let the past go—live in the present
with me so we can have a future.” He placed his hand on the back of her head,
steady and calm.
 
“Look at me, Cecily.”

She did as he asked. “What is it?”

“I have two things I want to ask you,
querida,
” he said. “First, in a minute after I ask the other
question, will you make love with me? I know I have to be careful, but there’s
no reason why we can’t.
 
I need you and I
want you.”

God, she’d missed his body and their coming together with wild
heat and light.
 
Some of the tension
she’d carried lessened as she smiled. “Sure, sugar, I’d like to, very much.”

“Good,” he said. “Then there’s the other thing.”

He wore such a serious expression she wondered what might be on
his mind.
If he says we need space, if he
wants to get a place of his own, I guess I’ll fake a smile and say ‘okay’. I
won’t like it, but I’ll do anything so I don’t lose him.
 
“What’s that?”

Daniel reached into the pocket of his sweatpants and pulled out
a creased, worn envelope. “Mama brought this when they came up after I got
hurt,” he said. “She thought I might need it and I do.”