Sweet Vidalia Brand (17 page)

Bobby lay in the bed. His skin was pale and his hair mussed. Vidalia smoothed it with one hand, thinking he’d be embarrassed to be seen looking like an upset rooster. “Are you very mad at me, Selene, for not telling you sooner?”

Selene kept her eyes on Bobby’s face as well. “You didn’t really know.”

“I had an inkling.”

“Things happen the way they’re supposed to, Mom. Everything worked out just fine. And I love you even more knowing you haven’t always been perfect.”

“I’ve never even been close.”

“You have a giant family out there who’d argue that one.” Selene leaned in and kissed her cheek, she wobbled a little on her feet.

“That’s it, daughter. Back into bed you go. Come on now.” Turning Selene around, Vidalia helped her back to her bed, which was right beside Bobby’s. She helped her sit on the edge, then picked up her legs for her, and tucked the covers over her. Her light blue eyes kept falling closed, then popping open over and over, before she even hit the pillow. “I love you, Mama.”

“I love you too, Selene. You rest now.”

“He’s gonna be okay. You don’t have to worry,” she said, finally letting her eyes fall closed and stay that way. “I talked to my guides. He’s gonna be just fine.”

“And he’ll probably start dancing under the moonlight, what with your marrow in him now.”

Selene’s lips curved upward, but just barely. “That would be so cool.” Then she was asleep, and she needed it. Vidalia patted her hands, then turning, went to stand beside Bobby’s bedside.

To her surprise, his eyes were open when she looked at him.

“Well, hello cowboy. You finally decide to wake up?”

He moved his lips, made a face. Vidalia got the water from the bedside, and held its straw near his lips. “Just a little now,” she told him.

He sipped, then let his head fall back onto the pillows. “I’m sorry, Vidalia. I thought...I thought there would be...more time.”

“Oh, there is. There’s lots more time. Take a good long look at the girl in the next bed, will you Bobby Joe?” And she stepped aside as she said it.

Bobby turned his head, then he frowned harder. “Is that your Selene?”

“Turns out she’s actually...your Selene too.”

“She...?”

“Bobby, she’s yours. The doc told us you needed bone marrow and that none of your boys were a match. Why on earth didn’t you say something when I told you she might be yours?”

“I didn’t want to know so I could take her bone marrow, woman. I wanted to spend time with her, while I still had time to spend.” Then he blinked, tearing his eyes from the sleeping blonde and fixing them on Vidalia again.

“Selene...?”

“Is a perfect match. And so you, my love, are cured. Oh, the doc is making noises about having to keep you alive long enough for the new bone marrow to start doing its job, but I have my sources and Selene has hers, and they both agree, you’re gonna be fine.”

“I’m not dying?”

“Not anytime soon,” she told him.

“Are you...sure?”

She looked past him briefly, then got stuck there, her eyes on the window. “I am now.”

He looked where she was looking.

Soft snowflakes fell past the darkened window, dancing and spinning as they drifted to the ground. “It’s Christmas,” she told him. “It’s snowing. And you’re alive.”

He dragged his stunned eyes back to hers again, as, from just outside the doors, a group of voices sang Silent Night in perfect four part harmony. They sounded just like angels.

Then his hand moved, as if in search of his pockets, only he no longer had any. “Your present. I had it in my pocket.”

“I know.” She pulled it out of her own pocket. “I thought it might be for me, but I didn’t look. I wanted to wait for you.”

He took the tiny box from her, and turning it to face him, he opened it. “When I came back here, I thought my time was running out. And I made a decision to live what was left of my life doing what was important. Doing what was right. I wanted to spend my time with my boys, building something I could leave behind for them. And I wanted to spend it with you, basking in you the way I should have been doing all along.”

He gripped the bed’s rail and shook it. “Lower this danged thing, will you?”

“You’re not getting up!”

“Gonna start bossing me around already, woman? Lower it or I’ll climb over. I’m gonna do this right.”

She lowered the rail. He sat up, put his legs over the side, and then pushed off the mattress before she was even ready. His feet hit the floor, his knees bent, and he went down onto them so fast she couldn’t stop him.

“Mr. McIntyre!” a nurse shouted.

He held up one hand and sent her a silencing look. Then he lifted his head, and the little black box, its lid open now, the ring winking and twinkling inside. “Sweet Vidalia, you are the love of my life, and I refuse to live another day without you. Will you marry me?”

Her tears were streaming. The carolers had just broken into the third verse in the hallway, and even the nurse was sniffling.

“Say yes, Mom,” Selene whispered. “Make me legitimate.”

Vidalia dropped to her knees too, pressed her hands to Bobby’s cheeks, and kissed his mouth slowly. When she finished, she spoke so close her lips brushed his as she told him, “You bet I will.”

He grinned, plucked the ring from the box and slipped it onto her finger. A loud cheer broke out, and they both turned their heads to see a number of faces vying for a spot outside the door’s glass windows, her daughters and his sons, all of them smiling so wide it was blinding.

They kissed again, kneeling there in front of the window with the snowflakes as their backdrop, and Vidalia knew that her fondest wish, her very own Christmas miracle, had been delivered right then, that very night, on the Christmas when her life began anew.

New York Times bestselling author Maggie Shayne has published more than 50 novels and 23 novellas. She has written for 7 publishers and 2 soap operas, has racked up 15 Rita Award nominations and actually, finally, won the damn thing in 2005.

Maggie lives in a beautiful, century old, happily haunted farmhouse named “Serenity” in the wildest wilds of Cortland County, NY, with her soul-mate, Lance. They share a pair of English Mastiffs, Dozer & Daisy, and a little English Bulldog, Niblet, and the wise guardian and guru of them all, the feline Glory, who keeps the dogs firmly in their places. Maggie’s a Wiccan high priestess (legal clergy even) and an avid follower of the Law of Attraction