cont'd 
 
There was no more movement for the rest of their visit, but Margaret and Madi were encouraged. They reported to the others what had happened, everyone was delighted with the news. The following morning André showed up, insisting he be the first to visit Marci. He was the only one who spent time with her alone.

     Two at a time, the others kept a vigil at Marci's bedside. Day by day, her movements became broader and stronger. The drain and pressure device were removed from her head. The respirator was removed, and she breathed on her own. Within six days, she was moved from ICU to a private room. Dr. Marten was impressed with Marci's progress—with one exception—she had not said a word. Another eight days passed, still she did not speak.

     One day the family gathered in the hall with the doctor.
     "Is there any physical reason why she can't speak?" Sam asked.
     "None that we can find," Dr. Marten responded. "We have run every available test."

     Madi hugged herself in frustration. "You mean Marci could talk if she wanted to?"

     "Not necessarily," Dr. Marten declared, "it could be emotional."
     Sam put an arm around Madi, "She may be traumatized by all she's been through, it's a lot to deal with."
     "And she had that amnesia before the accident," Madi blurted.
     "Really," the doctor raised a brow. "Would you like to tell me about it?"
     Madi explained what happened.

     "Well," the doctor affirmed, "she seems aware now."

     "It's not for certain until she can talk though, is it?" Margaret questioned.
     "I'm afraid so," the doctor agreed.
     The conversation was getting to Madi. "I have to go. Lance and Jacob are waiting for me." She left before the ache in her throat turned to tears. When she reached the cafeteria, Lance and Jacob waved her over. She fixed a cup of coffee at the free station and rushed to the table.
     "So, have you heard from detective Mike?" she asked before her rear hit the seat.

     "Like I've been telling Jacob. Just about everything André has told Marci is a lie. He said his family lives in Toulouse; they live in Bordeaux. He said his father was dead; he's in prison. He told Marci he's an only child; he has a thirty-year-old sister."

     "What the ... " Madi didn't know what to say.
     Jacob covered his fist with the other hand, "I don't know what that jerk is up to, but we better find out."

     "You're so right," Lance agreed, "that's why I had Jons fly Mike to Bordeaux in the family jet. He's going to keep digging."
     Jacob was startled, "I didn't know Jons was a pilot." 
     Lance shook his head, "He's the one who taught me. I would have flown Mike myself, but I don't want to leave Marci."
     Madi and Jacob slipped each other a side look.
     "Did Mike say why André's father is in prison?" Madi scowled.
     "The story isn't clear, but he killed someone. A short time after he went to prison André's mother divorced him."
     "Some family," Madi snickered.
     "Yea, I wish Bits hadn't become involved with him," Jacob huffed. "And how do we tell her what we know?"
     "We can't," Lance reflected. "At least, not right now."
     Jacob pushed back his chair, "I have to go."
     "Me too," Madi echoed. "My parents are probably waiting."
     "I have some things I need to take of myself," Lance admitted.
     When they reached the hallway Madi stopped at the elevator, while the men continued toward the lobby. Lance and Jacob went their separate ways from the parking lot. By the time he finished running errands and made it to the manor, Lance was exhausted. It was near dinner, but he had no appetite. He also had no desire to sit at the Baby Grand.
     He retired to his suite and flipped on the TV. After a quick shower, Lance collapsed across the bed and promptly fell asleep. Only he couldn't stay dormant. A few hours later, he awoke the sound of the evening news. He slid to the edge of the bed and stared at the screen. Before long, he was on his way back to the hospital. Marci's visiting hours were very lax.
     Everything had been in high gear since the accident and the days blurred together. Lance had to slow down. He concentrated on the information he had received from Mike. Why had André lied? It wasn't for a good reason, he was certain of that. He had reached the hospital and pulled into the visitor's lot. There was a post position; there was also André's Lexus. He ignored it and started for the entrance.
     He encountered André in the lobby. "How is Marci?"
     "She's the same," André replied, "no talking. I don't understand."
     "None of us do, André."
     "But Dr. Marten is going to release her in a few days."
     "There's no reason to keep her; she can perform physical therapy at home."
     "You're right," André sighed. "I just wish she would say something. Even when I tell her I'm returning to Toulouse, there was nothing."

     "You're going back," Lance snapped.
     Lance looked wounded, "My aunt is very ill, I must go."
     "I'm sorry to hear that, I hope she gets better."
     "Oui. Well, I must go now."
     Lance started to step away. "Good-bye," he called over his shoulder. Lance was a gentleman, but avoided shaking hands with André if possible.
     Within minutes, he was at Marci's bedside. She was not exactly small at five-six, but gazing down at her against the span of white sheets made her seem so frail somehow. What he wouldn't give to reach down and scoop her up in his arms; to be her source of strength and healing; to whisper her name over and over until she responded to the sound of his voice. 
     He pulled the visitor's chair closer, then reached over and took her hand. Resting his lips against her fingers lips against her fingers, Lance closed his eyes. "Oh Marci," he moaned, "I don't know what to say. I'm ecstatic that you're alive, pray that you're not in pain, wonder if you even know me. Do you know that I love you? Not that best friend kind of love we've shared all these years. I mean as a man loves a woman. From deep within my soul, I love you."
     The pain was too much, Lance had to stop. He opened his eyes but didn't look up. He pressed his lips to Marci hand and laid it on the bed; then left the chair to stand by the window. His tone was soft and coarse with pain. "Was it the letter? The shock ... pushed you ... over the edge?" A tear threatened. "Am I to blame for you being in that bed?"
     "Lance." Her voice sounded like a frightened kitten.
     He whirled and flew to her side. "Marci, was that you?"
     She nodded slightly.
     Perched on the edge of the bed, he could hardly mouth the words, "Can you say it again?"
     "Lance."
     He just couldn't believe it. "You know me?"
     She nodded.
     The tear fell.
     Marci placed a finger against the tear.
     He took her hand. "Can you say something else?"
     She didn't answer. Marci closed her fingers over his hand and dropped her lids. Lance stayed by her side until Marci drifted off, then eased from the bed and left the room. He closed the door with one hand and fumbled for his cell with the other.
     "Madi, you're not going to believe this ... it's ... I ... she called my name."
     "Lance? Wait a minute, are you at the hosp... Did Marci talk to you?"
     "Not talked exactly, but she did say my name."
     Madi nearly choked, "Hold on now. That means she knew you, that she has her memory back."
     "Yes," he laughed. "I asked her if she knew me and she shook her head. Oh geez, Madi, this is wonderful. Where are you? Can you call Jacob and meet me at Milos?"
     "I'm still at work, lots of overtime with Marci gone. We'll be there in twenty
minutes."
Lance slid the phone into his pocket and snuck back into Marci's room. She was lying on her side for the first time. It was almost as if nothing had happened, except for the bandage on her head. It was small now. The full wrappings surrounding her skull had been removed. He tiptoed to the bed, faintly touching his lips to her to hair, "Good night, my love."

     Half hour later, he reached Milos. His parents had known the owners since Lance was a child. The Benvenuti family had created a true Italian experience, from the atmosphere to the menu. The dining room had the look and feel of a carnival, with bright colors, huge still-life photographs and an open kitchen. Yet, it was the menu that was most impressive, with nearly one-hundred items. Milo's was the favorite of Lance and his friends.

     Madi and Jacob waved excitedly as he entered. They were closer and had arrived before him. There was pizza and a pitcher of beer in the middle of the table. For the first time in days, he was starving. Sliding into the booth, he reached for a slice.

     "So give us all the details," Jacob pounced. "What happened?"

     "There isn't much to tell," Lance grinned, revealing only what he wanted.

     "Didn't I tell you," Jacob slapped his hands together. "I knew Bits would come out of this; that she would be okay."

     Maci ran a finger along the glass stein, "I know my sister's strong, that she's a fighter but I wasn't sure about this, I mean with the surgery..."

     "She's on the verge of coming around," Lance beamed.

     "You mean totally coming out of it?" Jacob squinted.

     Lance nodded, "Seems like it..."

     "Are you sure?" Madi frowned. "I mean, what if I tell my parents and she doesn't say anything? I don't want to put them through any more."

     "Well, if it were me," Jacob professed, "I would have to..."

     Lance's cell interrupted. "Hey, Mike." He glanced at his watch, "It's eight o'clock, must be two in the morning there." He hesitated, "Hang on a second."

     "Go ahead," Madi moaned.

     Jacob shook his head.

     "Everything's alright at the Ashford Place, isn't it?"

     Lance knew that Mike would be comfortable at his friend's bed and breakfast. The terra-cotta tiled floors and thick sandstone walls meant cool tempatures, high-beamed ceilings and simple furniture, the out-of-the-way location meant quiet, and Victor and Louise had a policy of minding their own business.

    "This place is working out great," Mike reported. "It's near the river, real quiet so I can sleep during the day, 'cause you know I do most of my work at night. Another thing, I can be in Bordeaux in less than thirty minutes. And your friends are real nice people. They have a cool set-up called the "vineyard room." It's like a little bar, has these huge wine barrels with a counter attached to the top. We sit in there after dinner, drink a little wine, chitchat.

     "I'm glad you like it, Mike. If anything comes up, you can trust Victor."

     "That's good to know, anything can happen in this business."

     "Have you found anything new?"

     Mike repeated some information, but the stuff was shocking. "His supposedly dead dad is in prison for killing his own sister. She and the wife were close, and when he started runnin' around the sister ratted him out. He lost everything. He didn't care about the old lady, it was the business. They own a huge vineyard in Bordeaux, four times the size of most the vineyards around here. Worth big bucks. They had a prenup. If either cheated, personally or businesswise, the other would get everything, including the business.

     "Now André, he had to take over the family business a while back 'cause the mother got sick. Only the business hasn't doin' well lately. Yet he refuses to leave the U.S., just flits back and forth. There's something fishy going on here, Lance. This guy says his family lives in Toulouse but they live in Bordeax; says the aunt is sick when it's the mother; says the father is dead but he's in prison. And that business about not telling he has a sister. I don't know what's going on, but I'm gonna find out."

     "Sounds like you found out plenty. And knowing you, Mike, I bet you have some friends too."

     "Yea, I have, Victor and Louise. Matter of fact, Victor is taking me on a tour of his friend's vineyard over in Bordeaux tomorrow. Just so happens it's right next to André's place. Well, I better get going so I can get some sleep. I'll keep ya posted, buddy."

     "Okay, Mike. Thanks for calling."

     Madi and Jacob stared with a dozen questions, as Lance hung up. Jacob was especially hungry for every detail. Lance took a hefty swig from his mug before revealing what Mike had told him. When he finished they were open-mouthed in disbelief.

     "Murdered his own sister!" Madi's hands covered her cheeks.

     Jacob twisted his face in disgust, "That idiot is up to something, and I can't wait to nail him."

     "Well, mystery is Mike's speciality and I have a faith that he'll get to the bottom of this puzzle."

     "I truly hope so," Madi sighed. "I can't imagine having that man for a brother-in-law."

     Jacob ran his hands through his hair and reached for the beer pitcher. No one was more disturbed about André being a part of the family. Just the mention of André's name and his eyes turned dark and somber.

     "Another thing," Lance offered, "we can count on Mike for updates. He won't leave us in the dark."

     "It's a good thing," Madi laughed, trying to lighten the mood, "since he's across the pond." She also wanted to change the subject. "I wonder if Marci has woke up again?"

     Jacob shook his head, "I doubt it, the hospital would have called. We would have heard something."

     "Yea, they would have contacted my mother and she would have called me. You know, I can't help but wonder what Marci's going to be like when she comes out of this. I heard parents talking outside their son's room one day. They were upset because he wasn't the same when he came out of the coma."

     Jacob reacted quickly, "What do you mean? What did they say?"     "Now don't get alarmed. It doesn't mean that Marci...

     "Just tell me what they said," he voice anxious.

     "Give me a minute, I'm trying to remember. They said, "How did our George go from being so kind and gentle to being so mean?"

     "Come on now," Lance stepped in, "we're getting ahead of ourselves. Remember what Dr. Marten said, every case is different."

     Jacob dropped his head, "Sorry, I'm getting carried away. We're going to see her tomorrow anyway. We're still on for meeting in the cafeteria, right?"

     "Absolutely," Madi insisted. Tilting her head back, she emptied her mug. "I'm not going to say anything to my parents about what happened. Marci will do it again ... they will see for themselves."

     "Well, I'm ready to call it a day," Lance stated. "Seems everything just hit me all at once." He closed his hand over his mouth for a full-fledged yawn. "I feel tired all of a sudden."

     He insisted on paying the tab and the group made their way to the parking lot. They changed plans for the next day to dinnner time and said good night.

     Lance climbed into his Porsche and pulled onto the highway. All the way home he relived every second in that room with Marci.

     By the time he climbed into bed, Lance was bone-weary tired. He dropped off instantly; only it wasn't pleasant. His dreams were filled with shadowy strangers chasing him through the vineyards of Bordeaux.