Free The Governor's Lady by Robert Inman

back door for hot chocolate and brownies in the kitchen. The National Guard truck returned to load them up for the trip home, and Nolan was the last to leave. She lingered to tell him goodbye, just the two of them, and when he opened the door to go, he turned suddenly and kissed her. It wasn’t just a peck on the cheek either. His lips lingered on hers for a moment, and her hand went on its own accord to his cheek, and she tasted warmth and chocolate and something else indescribable. Then he pulled away, eyes dancing. “I had a really super time,” he said, and bounded out the door, leaving her open-mouthed with astonishment, her hand lingering in the air where his cheek had been.
    She told no one. This was just hers, something to hold close and savor. For a few weeks after, they held hands shyly at school and talked on the phone at night. And then the whole thing passed in the way of junior-high romances, and they found themselves just friends, whichthey had now been for years, seeing each other occasionally, mostly at social functions. Every time, Cooper felt the faint taste of chocolate drifting up from some well-protected place.
    “You look like you’ve been up all night,” she said.
    “Emergency surgery about three this morning. Seventeen-year-old kid on a motorcycle tangled with a stop sign. Ripped his chest open. Tried to patch things back together.”
    She waited a moment. “Did you?”
    He shook his head.
    “I’m sorry. Go home and get some sleep.”
    He smiled through the weariness. “Yes, Mom.”
    “You know, Nolan, you should have stuck with me.”
    “I should have stuck with somebody, that’s for sure.” Nolan had been through two wives and was now enmeshed with a rather infamous local attorney who had been through two husbands. “We could run away, I guess.”
    “To where?”
    “I was in Zambia last year. Medical mission, small villages out in the bush. Sleeping in thatched huts, lions wandering through and roaring in the middle of the night. After a while, I got used to the lions and just slept through the parade. Forgot about the rest of the world. Are you game?”
    “Ask me again in a couple of months.”
    They sipped their coffee.
    “Do you remember the big snow, the snowman?” she asked.
    It brought a twinkle to his eyes. “Of course. I’ve still got the clipping from the paper. All of us, and your dad and Mickey, with the snowman.”
    “Mickey was there? I don’t remember that. I don’t remember her being there at all.”
    “Check the clipping.”
    “So what’s her situation now?”
    Nolan finished his coffee and tossed the cup into a trash can. “Congestive heart failure isn’t something to recover from, but we have ways to keep it at bay. Medicine can help, but there are also things that have absolutely nothing to do with medicine.”
    “Such as?”
    Nolan spread his hands. “Maybe something like force of will. People go on long after you think there’s nothing keeping them here.”
    “How long can she keep it at bay?”
    “Anywhere from now to next year. I learned a long time ago to stop guessing. She’s a good bit better than yesterday. Things are stable. Her heart is precarious, but it’s still ticking.”
    “Maybe her orneriness is keeping her alive.”
    Nolan studied her for a moment, then: “Whatever works.”

    “If I don’t get a cigarette,” Mickey growled, “I’m going to hit somebody.”
    Cooper stood at the foot of the bed. Yes, orneriness. Sick and dying or not, it’s stuck like glue to her . Mickey looked almost perky, eyes showing a trace of the old dance and flash. She was still hooked to the IV tower and the heart monitor, but the oxygen tube was gone.
    “Is that what you called me over here for? A friggin’ cigarette?”
    “You don’t have to be nasty,” Mickey said primly. “Such language is inappropriate for someone in your position.”
    “Mother,” Cooper said, “you are absurd.”
    “They won’t even bring me a