On A Wing And A Prayer Part 22

Bathroom ch.o.r.es out of the way, Rox powered up her laptop and selected "Netscape Communicator" to access her e-mail. Going directly to her inbox, she smiled broadly when she saw the note from Ca.s.s. Checking the date and time the message was sent, she grinned and said to herself, You couldn't wait until morning, could you Ca.s.s?

Double clicking on the note, she opened it and read: "Hi Love,

Rox, I want you to know that I have given you a piece of my heart that I never want you to return. I have never felt for anyone else, the way I feel for you. You are the other half of my soul Roxanne Ward. You complete me.

It breaks my heart to know you are living in an abusive situation. I thank the powers above that you have two friends who love you, and who are willing to stay with you and keep you safe. I wish I could be there myself, but I don't want to rush you, and make you uncomfortable with the pace of this relationship. Know however, that I will come to you immediately if you need me. My phone number is 408-555-1080. I generally fly Monday and Tuesday, and then again on Thursday and Friday, but I'm home on Wednesdays and weekends. Please call if you need me, Rox. I really want to be there for you.

You are a brilliant writer, Rox. I can only imagine what it would be like to look inside your mind. I'm sure it is a wondrous and magical place. I desperately want to get to know you better ... to look inside and see the real Roxanne Ward. I know without a doubt that I wouldn't be disappointed. I want to know your mind as well as your heart. I ask that you share them both with me. I will treat them carefully.

I will let you go for now. Know that what I feel for you goes beyond friendship. I believe I'm falling in love with you, Rox. Don't ask me how this happened, especially since we have know each other for such a short period of time ... and especially since we have never met face to face, but I feel it in my heart. I know without a doubt that I love you, and I will cherish you forever. I hope I haven't made you uncomfortable with this declaration. I couldn't bear to lose you.

Until later then,

With loving thoughts,

Ca.s.s"

G.o.d, she said to herself. Just a few kind words, and I'm falling all over myself with desire. So, he wants to know my heart and soul ... well, the only place I really pour that out is in my writing and in my journal. Do I dare send my journal to him? Am I ashamed of what I have felt in the journal for the past several weeks? ... No, I'm not, came the reply. Okay, journal notes it is, she mumbled as she put off answering Ca.s.s' note.

Grabbing the mouse, she selected the word processor in her computer and double clicked on the folder labeled 'journal'. Once open, the folder displayed individual journal entries dating back nearly a year. Okay, let's start with the one I wrote earlier this week, Rox thought as she waited for the selected doc.u.ment. Going to the top of the screen, Rox selected the 'edit' icon and highlighted all the text in the file, then selected the 'copy' icon to place a copy of the text onto the clipboard. Then, selecting, 'new message', she opened a note and pasted the journal contents into it, adding introductory and closing comments. Addressing the note to Ca.s.s, she took the time to review its contents before sending: "My dearest Ca.s.s,

You said in your last note that you wanted to see into my soul. There are only two places that I allow my soul to visit, the first is my writing, the second is my journal. I will share my journal with you. Ca.s.s, In these notes, I speak my heart ... you will truly know my soul as you read them. Most of what you will read are daily entries ... descriptions of my life during dark times. Please don't let this distress you. Know that this is a vehicle I use to vent my heart ... to help me survive the trials of my life. d.a.m.n, this is taking forever to type with one hand. I will be glad when the swelling has subsided enough to be able to use both hands. I have not made any entries since Wednesday, since I was in the hospital on Thursday and Friday. In any case, friend, here are my notes from earlier this week:

Monday It is 9:30 p.m. I am sitting here on my glider on the back deck, my legs tucked under me, my laptop where it belongs. John Cougar playing from the CD on my computer. I am freezing. It is 80 degrees outside and I'm freezing. I don't feel well ... my body aches, especially my back. My nose is a chunk of ice. My toes are cold, goose b.u.mps cover both arms. My fingers are like icicles. I slip them under the laptop where they soak up the warmth radiating from the bottom of the computer. Why am I cold?

Nikki was here this morning. Extremely upset at the condition I am in. She begged me again to leave Chris. I wish I could ... I wish it was that easy. It felt good to be held in her warm loving arms.

Why is it that people need contact? Especially women. What is it about the sense of touch that can convey so much emotion and feeling? Touch comes in many flavors -- soft and gentle, hard and abusive, rough and callused, sharp and stinging, firm and rea.s.suring, warm and cuddly. Why is it that we want to be held when we are ill? We are the same people ... the same self sufficient, capable, individuals as when we are well ... why is the need so much greater at certain times? Why is the need so great that one can visualize the act and feel the warmth and erratic heart beat as though it was actually happening? The need for contact is very powerful indeed.

What am I missing? I ask myself that question a lot. Will I finally realize what I want from life when I am too old to have it? When I am too unattractive for others to seek it from me? That thought causes a lump to rise into my throat, making it difficult to breathe. I am tired as I close my eyes and lean my head against the swing.

Tuesday Again, I sit here, on my deck, it is mid morning. I am enjoying the sounds of the ocean and a strong cup of coffee. I'm feeling a little better today, physically and emotionally. My spirits are a little higher, although I remain contemplative. Sometimes I think I spend too much time thinking, and wanting, and not enough time acting.

Nikki stopped by again this morning. She would still be here now if I hadn't sent her home to spend time with her wife. She is a good friend ... I love her dearly.

I spent significant time writing yesterday. Added another chapter to the book. I am pleased with the way it is turning out. Chris is out of town on a job, affording me the peace and quite I so desperately crave sometimes. The sunrise is painting the sky in one ma.s.sive panorama of red. It is a beautiful sight to behold. A dog is barking in the distance. I take a deep breath and release it as a sigh. I am feeling melancholy ... I'm not sure why the mood strikes me, but sometimes it does.

Wednesday Woke up at 6:30 this morning... My body is killing me again -- Why does it always hurt two days later instead of the next day? The pain was tolerable when I went to bed last night -- but this morning, it is nearly unbearable. Standing under the hot shower helped a lot.

Nikki came to visit with me again this morning. She is such a mother hen. I know she's afraid for me ... afraid that Chris will hurt me again. Soon, when my poor dear father finally finds peace from his pain, I too will be free. It breaks my heart to know that he will soon be gone. He has been a stabilizing force in my life ... I will miss him dearly.

Well, I'd better get to work ... deadlines to meet, publishers to keep happy. I have been invited to dinner at Nik and Jerri's this evening. I have a lot to accomplish before then. Until later ...

That's all I have written this week, Ca.s.s. As you know, I was in the hospital Thursday and Friday. I try very hard to faithfully keep my journal. I will gladly send it to you daily if you'd like. I want to be open and honest with you ... a good relationship can not be built on lies and suspicion. I am looking forward to seeing into your soul as well.

I will try to write today. We have not seen Chris since the beating on Thursday. Nikki and Jerri insist on staying with me ... I am never alone. Please don't fear for my safety.

Until later, then ...

Lovingly yours, Rox"

Satisfied with the contents of the note, Rox selected 'send' and watched her soul disappear into the recesses of the Internet. Sitting back, she sighed deeply, then shut down the computer.

Jerri came up behind where she was sitting on the couch and leaned down to kiss her cheek. "You okay?" she asked.

Rox looked at her friend and smiled. "Yeah," she said.

Suddenly, Rox's stomach rumbled loudly, making both women chuckle.

"Come on ... let's go feed that beast," Jerri said, coming around the couch to help her injured friend up.

Ca.s.s rolled over and tried to make herself comfortable once more. Try as she might, she could not get rid of the burning ache in her lower abdomen. Finally giving up, she threw the covers off and climbed out of bed, plodding to the adjoining bathroom to relieve her bladder. Coming back into the bedroom, she sat heavily on the side of the bed. Reaching up to rub the sleep out of her eyes, she sighed deeply, then let her hands drop down between her legs, and her chin to her chest, scattering her dark hair into her face. G.o.d, I hate mornings, she said to herself. Glancing at the clock, she noticed the time was 9:00 a.m. Perking her head up, she furrowed her brow and thought, 9:00 a.m.? I went to bed around 11 p.m. ... ten hours of sleep... I shouldn't still be tired.

You don't remember the dream, do you? Enforcer asked.

Dream? Ca.s.s pondered before the memory returned to her. Oh yeah ... You know, that was a really strange dream. I mean, why would I be in a man's body?

You wouldn't be having p.e.n.i.s envy, would ya, Ca.s.s? Enforcer teased.

Oh for Christ sakes! Ca.s.s yelled internally. Where do you come up with this stuff?

Ah ... Ca.s.s ... don't you mean, where do YOU come up with this stuff? h.e.l.lllllo? Enforcer mocked.

"Aarrgghh" Ca.s.s yelled out loud as she climbed to her feet and changed into her exercise clothes.

Forty-five minutes later, Ca.s.s was in the shower, washing off the sweat from her treadmill workout. She stood there with a towel around her middle, rubbing a second towel through her hair as she booted her computer and waited for her wallpaper to appear. She had scanned Rox's picture from the back cover of Stargazer II and stored it on her hard drive. Then, she identified the scanned photo as wallpaper, resulting in a smiling picture of Rox each time she booted up her computer.

"d.a.m.n, that woman is gorgeous!" she commented out loud as she sat down and selected 'Netscape Messenger'. Moments later, her inbox was presented to her, indicating two pieces of new mail. The first message was from the airline indicating that her flight to Durango that Monday was being rescheduled to take off an hour earlier than usual. The airline often did that with international flights due to scheduling problems in the foreign airports. The second post was from Rox.

Scanning the contents of the note made an uneasy feeling creep into her chest. This is a very unhappy woman, E. G.o.d, I wish I could take her away from it all, she thought.

Why can't you? Enforcer asked.

What do you mean, why can't I? Ca.s.s mocked sarcastically.

Why can't you? What's stopping you? came the next probing question.

Well, for one, I don't even know yet that she's into women. Like you said during chat, she said she loved me for caring... not that she loved ME. Remember. Secondly, she made it perfectly clear that she had to stay in her current relationship until her father was gone. What chance do I have? Ca.s.s asked.

Well ... you could always knock her father off ... get it over with ... whaddaya think? Enforcer suggested.

Ca.s.s slapped both of her palms into her forehead and shook her head back and forth in disgust at where her mind was taking her. d.a.m.n it Ca.s.s, just answer the note, she scolded herself.

She sat back for several moments, scanning Rox's note once more before penning a reply: "My dearest bard,

I feel so privileged to be allowed a glimpse of your soul. Thank you so much for sending your journal. Yes, I would very much like to continue receiving daily entries. I feel like you are showing me a secret part of yourself, a part reserved only for those you hold dear. Thank you, dear bard for trusting me.

Rox, you have asked so many valid questions in your note ... you have the mind of a philosopher, and the soul of an Angel. I wish I had answers for you, but I don't. Why DO people need contact? I don't know. I suppose we need contact to measure our impact on others. Maybe even to validate our own self worth ... you know, the more people we physically touch, and the more people we have who voluntarily touch us, the higher our sense of worth. That's one possible theory. I think we draw comfort from touching ... we seek refuge in it. That's why we need contact even more when we are ill. We all want to be taken care of in one respect or another. Too many of us are the caretakers, never receiving anything in return... yes, even something simple as a touch to reward our efforts ... a kiss, a hug, a simple hand cupping your cheek. That type of touch validates us ... tells us that the world is a better place with us in it. I don't know, Rox. These are only my thoughts ... not based on fact ... nor on strong psychological doctrine ... just my thoughts.

I am glad to see that you are making progress on your new book. I'm afraid the cast on your hand will hinder your success ... unless you can get some help. Nikki seemed to do a very good job typing for you last night ... maybe she would be willing to help?

Rox, like Nikki, I too am worried about your relationship with Chris. I want so badly to rescue you from such brutality. Say the word, Rox, and I will be on the next flight to Maine. Please feel free to call my home whenever you need me. I have already given you the number, but here it is again ... 408-555-1080. My pager number is 408-555-0046. Please don't let Chris hurt you again, Rox ... please call me, and I will do whatever is in my power to stop it. Nikki has the right to be worried about you. What if Chris does return, Rox? What then? I am so glad Nikki and Jerri are staying with you. They sound like wonderful friends.

My bard, I feel a closeness to you I never thought I would feel again after Patti died. In the three years since her death, I have held a small sliver of my heart in reserve ... saving it only for Patti's memory. I find you invading that sliver, as you have invaded the rest of my heart. I can't stop thinking of you, Rox. I don't want to stop. Please promise that you will call me if you need me. I don't care what time of the day or night it is. If you can't reach me at home, please call my pager. If you need me Rox, I will find a way to get to you ... I promise.

All right. I will let you go for now. I am so looking forward to your next note.

Lovingly yours,

Ca.s.s"

Happy with the note, Ca.s.s selected 'send' and watched it disappear from her screen..

After a leisurely breakfast, Rox spent the next three hours sitting on the back deck, alternating between watching the ocean and awkwardly typing entries into her laptop for her new book. Try as she might, she was unable to erase the picture of the tall, dark haired man from her dreams. He looked very much like the picture Ca.s.s sent of himself, she speculated. She thought he looked quite dashing in the knee high boots, muslin shirt and vest. Complete with mustache and goatee, he looked very much like a musketeer.

Redirecting her attention to the written word, she lowered her head and concentrated on the laptop in front of her. The figure hiding behind the tool shed watched as Rox lowered her head and began typing. Standing guard like a gargoyle over its gable, unmoving, eyes rarely leaving the red-haired woman on the deck. Occasionally, a pet.i.te blonde or tall brunette would join her, sitting to enjoy a cup of coffee and chat, or to bring her lunch foods. Finally, when the red head moved gingerly into the house, the figure walked away, vowing to return later.

Ca.s.s sat back after shutting down the computer and stared at the blank screen. All she could think about was Rox and her abusive situation. Climbing to her feet, she started pacing back and forth, left hand on her hip, right hand ma.s.saging her chin. d.a.m.n, E, I'm worried about her. I have this uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wish I could be there with her right now, Ca.s.s speculated to her alter ego as she paced.

You realize you won't rest easy until you fly to Maine and check it out for yourself, Enforcer pointed out.

E, how can I do that? I have to work on Monday. I can't just pack up and go to Maine. Besides, she has her friends there with her ... she's probably relatively safe, she reasoned.

Admit it, Ca.s.s. You really want to be there because you have this overwhelming need to touch her, hold her, and tell her you love her. It has little to do with your protective instincts, said the alter ego.

Ca.s.s stopped pacing and frowned. Looking slightly over her left shoulder as though Enforcer was standing there, she raised her eyebrows and admitted to herself that her alter ego was probably right. d.a.m.n, I've got it bad, she admitted as she resumed her pacing.

CHAPTER XXII.

JERRI KISSED HER wife good bye as she left Rox's oceanfront home to go to work. She was working the noon to midnight shift that day, and wouldn't be home until nearly 1:00 a.m. Nikki normally hated it when Jerri worked that shift, but this day, the circ.u.mstances were different ... she had Rox to keep her company through the long hours of the evening.