Leave Yesterday Behind (6 page)

“No guilt trips, Gretchen. It’s something I’ve been thinking about even before this mess happened. I think Jessica needs to go off on an extended European vacation. For a year at least.” Callie massaged her stiff neck. “I need some time to think about what I want to do. I’ve spent my entire adult life playing Jessica. I might need to see what else is out there.”

“Okay. Shall I set up a meeting with your agent? Would you rather it be over the phone or in person?”

She thought a moment. “I think face to face. Harry’s been good to me. I’ll be going home tomorrow. Make it for the day after that. All my numbers are in the address book next to my landline and also programmed into my cell. Beth took it back to my apartment, so I’m sure it’ll be easy to spot. I’ll write down a few key names for you, and who they are.”

Callie scribbled away, including a few instructions Gretchen would need.

“I’ll call the management team and be sure you’re given full access. Would you see that Beth is there when we get home tomorrow? I’d love if she would bring Wolf home.”

Gretchen smiled. “He’ll be the best medicine for you. And don’t worry, I’ll walk him and everything. I’m crazy about dogs. My ex hated them. And I spend so much time with my patients, I never thought it was fair to have one.”

“You’ll love Wolf. He’s an Akita, a Japanese breed. Bigger than a German shepherd. Fluffiest white coat you’ve ever run your fingers through. And he’s the only dog I’ve ever had that didn’t have chronic bad breath.”

“He sounds adorable.”

A sharp rap on the door startled them both.

A look of mischief crossed Gretchen’s face. “It’s
The Hannibal Show
, now playing in Room 642. I guess we better get this over.”

Callie smiled at her fellow conspirator. “Come in,” she called.

Chapter 7

Callie watched the scenery rolling by, excitement building within her. As they passed the lush, green trees that lined the Louisiana highway, she knew she was almost home.

Home.

Though she wanted to leave New York immediately, it took a few months of intense physical therapy before she felt strong enough to make the trip. She didn’t want to arrive at Aunt C’s as an invalid. She wanted to be able to walk out the back door down to the lake and stroll peacefully, feeding the ducks. Not like a stiff Frankenstein, a patient that needed to be coddled and cajoled.

She was better now. Not a hundred percent by a long shot but definitely on the road to recovery. She needed the open spaces that Noble Oaks would provide both inside and out. Claustrophobia crept upon her like a cat silently stalking a mouse. It seized her at moments that brought sheer terror. Her apartment, while spacious by city standards, seemed to grow smaller and smaller, as if she were a caged bird who yearned to spread her wings. She needed room—and lots of it—if she were going to heal. Mentally, that is.

Callie spotted the mileage sign and pointed it out to Gretchen. “Look—Aurora’s just a few minutes down the road.”

“I can’t believe we’re almost to Hicksville. Driving to the moon would’ve been faster, Callie Chennault. If I colored my hair, I’d have needed to use two more boxes by now.”

“You’re the one that wanted us to drive,” she noted. “See the U.S., eat at local diners, and keep Wolf from being crated on the plane ride down. Sound familiar?”

Gretchen groaned. “So I might’ve made a mistake. After all, the most I’ve ever seen is upstate New York and the Jersey shore. I thought a road trip would be a ton of fun.”

She glanced over at Callie. “You have to admit the food has been pretty amazing. It’s just taken.
For
.
Ever
.”

Callie shrugged. “You’re the one who wanted us to take our time. Not put too big a strain on me.”

The redhead snorted. “That’s before you took over the CD changer. Before I knew you had this obsession with Frank Sinatra and Glenn Miller. How does a twenty-first century woman even know about these guys? And chicks like . . . like . . .”

“Billie Holiday?”

“That’s the one. Boy, she has a set of pipes on her, but it’s so depressing listening to her sad songs.”

“Well, I like her. And once we get settled, I’ll drag you into New Orleans. We’ll hear some real blues, live and in person. Preferably with a couple of hurricanes in hand.”

Gretchen gave her a sideways glance. “So how far is civilization?”

Callie laughed. “Aurora is civilized. It’s up to about thirteen thousand now. It’s got a diner and a bakery with a few tables and chairs. You can sit and schmooze with the locals in the morning while you drink your coffee.”

“No Starbucks. No bookstore. No frank and soda carts. No nightlife. I may go out of my mind, Callie. You’ll be putting me on a plane to New York this time tomorrow.”

“No,” she said firmly. “You’ll love it. Aurora’s got a rhythm all its own, and New Orleans is only about a half-hour away. We’ll make plenty of time to go into town and shop. Eat. Eat. Eat. Eat some more. Drink a little.”

“Pick up men?” Gretchen asked hopefully. “I think it’s time I got back into circulation.”

Callie sniffed. “Wolf is about all the man I want in my life right now.”

At his name, the dog stuck his head over the seat. She swore he smiled as both women automatically rubbed on him, one scratching between his ears while the other patted his massive chest.

“I plan on getting you into tip-top shape, Miss Chennault,” Gretchen threatened. “Then we’ll go bar hopping in the Big Easy in sparkly spandex and stilettos.”

“I didn’t pack anything remotely like that.”

“Well, you brought everything except your bathroom sink. The kitchen one did make the trip, I think,” Gretchen quipped. “You need to compliment me again on my wonderful driving with that little trailer fishtailing behind us all the way from lower Manhattan.”

Callie laughed. “You’ve done an excellent job, Nurse Ratched.”

Her friend cranked up the air conditioning another notch. “Why is it so steaming hot here?”

“Because we’re arriving in mid-August. I’ll admit, not the best time of year. But you’ll really like it, Gretchen. I promise. And you know I wouldn’t have come home without you.”

It was true. She and Gretchen formed a firm friendship over the last few months. The nurse accompanied her to every doctor’s appointment. She’d rallied Callie’s spirits when they were down, giving her both a mental and physical boost. She even sat in on every meeting connected with the show, including the nightmare of talking with the producer and writers regarding her future on
Sumner Falls
.

In the end, though, Gretchen helped Callie stand up and get the leave of absence from the network she so richly needed. The attack left her frazzled. Unable to focus—much less learn pages and pages of complicated dialogue. Gretchen laid it on the line to everyone involved. Callie needed rest. Callie needed absolutely no worries. If she wanted to come back to
Sumner Falls
, she needed to know that opportunity was available. If she didn’t, Gretchen pointed out the many years Callie had put in, making the show number one in the ratings.

Gretchen wound up negotiating a deal that even amazed Harry, Callie’s agent.

And it gave her the freedom to go home. No one there expected Jessica. She could simply be Callie Chennault, private citizen. She couldn’t wait to get there.

She sighed. “I am so ready for us to sink our teeth into some jambalaya and Mississippi Mud and—”

“Whoa! Stop right there.” Gretchen wrinkled her nose. “What’s this mud stuff you’re pushing? I didn’t even try mud pies when I played in my sandbox.”

“It’s absolutely the most heavenly chocolate mess you’ll ever put in your mouth.”

Gretchen smiled. “Okay. Chocolate? I’m on board with that.” She ran a hand through her hair. “This humidity, though, leaves much to be desired.”

She took in Gretchen’s hair. The usual, loose curls had gone haywire in Louisiana’s humidity. “It gives you a wild, sexy look.” She playfully ruffled Gretchen’s hair.

“As long as the men here think I’m hot. Hell, everyone’ll be hot down here. What am I babbling about?”

“Gretchen, once the guys get a look at you in those shorts, they will fall at your feet.”

Her friend grinned. “I
do
have pretty good legs.”

Callie glanced down at her own legs in khaki capris. Several scars ran from her right hip down the side of her thigh. She hadn’t been brave enough to put on a pair of shorts all summer. Not even in the privacy of her apartment. She didn’t think she’d be slipping into cutoffs—or a bikini—anytime soon.

“Okay. You need to slow down.”

“Not another little blip on the map,” complained Gretchen. “Every five minutes it’s go from sixty to thirty in the blink of an eye or get a ticket.”

“Well, this time it’s Aurora. And Essie promised me she’d have shrimp gumbo and hot French bread and something sinfully sweet waiting for us. I don’t want anything like getting a ticket to slow us down.”

“Thank God for small favors.” Gretchen slowed the vehicle as they entered the town’s limits.

Callie’s eyes grew unexpectedly moist. She’d visited Aurora a few times over the years during breaks from the show, but this time she treasured the fact that she had
this
place to go to. Maybe she was running away, leaving all kinds of problems in the city, but she yearned to smell the magnolias and hear the cicadas. Feel the sultry breeze coming off the lake.

“We’re coming up on the square.” Her excitement grew. Despite the air conditioning blowing on high, the sun’s heat permeated the car. She spotted the center of town, a mixture of old buildings blending with the new. Barrels of flowers in a rainbow of colors dotted the sidewalks in front of stores.

“There’s Robineaux’s Grocery and The Sweet Shoppe. Best ice cream this side of the Mississippi. And look at all of the antique stores that have sprung up. I can’t wait to check all this out.”

A siren suddenly sounded behind them.

“Great. Welcome to the sticks,” Gretchen mumbled. She pulled over in front of The Feed Bag.

“Relax, you weren’t doing anything wrong. And if you were,” Callie advised, “flirt. It’s the national pastime down here. You can get away with all sorts of stuff if you perfect the art of flirting.”

“Gotcha.” Gretchen rolled down the automatic windows and turned off the engine. She moistened her lips and turned to greet the policeman who approached.

He leaned down, mirrored shades covering his eyes, his firm jaw set, a frown on his face.

Gretchen immediately winced. Callie knew she would go into New York overdrive.

Which she did.

“I am sorry, Officer, well, I guess not really sorry, because I don’t think I was doing a single thing wrong. I have gone the limit or at least mostly the speed limit from New York City to here. Now is that about a thousand miles of law-abiding driving or what? I have not hit any stray cows. I haven’t run a single stop sign. And I surely never—”

The uniformed man broke out into a smile. “I’m sure y’all’re doing everything y’all need to. I just wanted to say hey to Callie.” He glanced over and removed his sunglasses.

Callie grinned. “Well, hey, Eric. I hear you’re the new sheriff these days.”

He nodded. “Good news travels fast—and bad even faster.” He rested his arm on the SUV. “Miz Callandra told me you’d be coming in about now. I’ve been watching for the past hour. I told her if y’all needed an escort home, I’d be happy to provide it.”

“Only if you use the siren, hon. My friend Gretchen here’s from New York proper. It’ll take at least that much to impress her.”

She watched Gretchen’s lashes flutter. She took in Eric studying the nurse in a way that caused Gretchen to blush.

“Well, ma’am, I have all kinds of ways to impress the ladies. The siren is the least of them.” He smiled lazily at her.

Gretchen licked her lips again. “I’ll bet you do, Mr. Chief of Police.”

“Say, are you going to be hanging around with Callie for a while?”

Callie shifted in her seat. “Gretchen is not only my friend, Eric. She’s my nurse. I’m still doing a little physical therapy. After . . . you know.”

He turned his attention back to her. His brow creased. “Everyone knows what happened to you, sweetheart. Those damned tabloids had a field day with it. But I promise—as a friend and a lawman—nothing remotely funny’s going to happen to you again. You’re home now, girl. You’re safe.”

He slid his sunglasses back into place. “Come on, now. Let’s get you home before Miz C’s calling me up again.” He sighed. “As it is, we’ve been chatting about two minutes. I’m sure she’s already taken her third call telling her you’ve hit the square and will be home in less than five.”

Eric walked back to his squad car and pulled up alongside them. “Follow me, ma’am,” he told Gretchen as he fired up the lights. “It’s just a couple of minutes down the road.”

Gretchen started the car up. “My. Oh, my. Do they grow all of them down here that delicious?” She glanced at Callie. “Did you see the biceps on that man? And that massive chest? And that swagger? God, I love a man in uniform who can swagger.”

“Just drive,” Callie said, with an eye roll. “I’ll let you be the judge of the current male crop. Once it gets out that I brought home a drop-dead gorgeous, petite little redhead, half the parish will be paying us a visit.”

Gretchen smiled mischievously. “I think Aurora is showing real promise.”