Chapter 25- Belle of the Ball
I had only been in the Deep South once and that was for a conference in New Orleans, but I was only there for two days and I certainly didn't remember the air being so humid you felt as though you were drowning with every breath. It was so hot and humid I thought it must be what Spock's bathroom felt like after a hot shower when he had the heat cranked up. To make it worse there was absolutely no breeze. The air was still and suffocating, but the scenery was simply beautiful. We took a shuttle from San Francisco to Atlanta and from there hitched a ride from a citizen who immediately recognized McCoy while we were standing outside of the terminal.
"You were on that ship that saved the Earth! I remember seeing you on the news." He exclaimed excitedly. "Honey, look! It is the doctor from Kirk's ship!" The man's wife smiled and McCoy quietly hung his head and hoped no one else would notice him. "C'mon son, hop in. Really, it's no bother, it's the least we can do for a member of Starfleet and the man that saved our lives. Where y'all headed?" I would have thought it a stupid cliché had I not actually found myself in the back of a modern pickup truck with McCoy zipping down a country road with the wind whipping our hair into an unruly mess. All that was missing was a bale of hay, a shotgun, and a hound dog.
He told me on the shuttle that he had contacted his sister and she insisted we stay at her house. He hadn't seen her since he signed up and he was a little nervous. Not that he would talk at any great length about it, but from what I gathered the younger sister was the only one who was even mildly supportive of him- the rest of his family more or less considered him dead and hadn't spoken to him in years. McCoy tapped on the window and the truck came to a stop so we could jump out. As he slung his bag over his shoulder he turned to give a small wave to the driver who saluted him. McCoy turned back around and ignored it with a grimace.
We paused and looked down a very long lane lined with willow trees that hung heavy with moss. To the right was a grove of fruit trees and to the left were fields planted with various vegetables. At the end of the lane was a large, white, two story plantation style mansion with beautiful porches on both levels. I stood there sweating in the impossibly hot sun admiring it with a sense of awe. "This is where you grew up?" I sighed.
He looked at me and gave a low chuckle. "Yep. I was born here and lived here until I went off to college. My sister and her family live here now, my parents moved a little further North into a smaller place. At least that is what she tells me."
We ambled at a slow pace toward the house enjoying the shade the trees provided. "I can see why you loved it here, it is beautiful." I complimented. He smiled softly and readjusted his bag over his shoulder. "So where did you break your arm getting the cat?" I asked looking around.
He laughed at the memory. "So you read it. That was down a ways." He answered gesturing to his left. "Mrs. Craig was an old widow that had a whole damn house full of cats and one got out. She didn't have any kids of her own, so my father sent me down the road to her place to climb this huge tree and get the stupid thing down."
"Did you succeed?" I asked just knowing how obstinate cats could be.
"Oh yeah, I got it alright." He scoffed. "I got it and we both came tumbling out of the tree. The little bastard hissed and scratched at me all the way down and then ran off into the bushes while I lay there on the ground bleeding and broken. That cat kicked my ass." We were only a few feet from the house when he paused and turned to quietly whisper, "I don't know how things are now, but I just wanted you to know that they might seem a little…funny about certain things. I'm not saying it is right, but the rest of my family is really hung up on bloodlines and whatnot."
I immediately caught his drift. "So I shouldn't say too much about my background. What would be worse, being a hillbilly or from a large northern city?" I felt dirty and a little angry about being prejudged. My family was just as southern as his- they just didn't have the money and connections his did. They may have been poor but they were good people…well, some of them.
He looked sad as though he read my thoughts and maybe he did if I didn't mask my facial expressions too well. "Now you know that I don't think that way right?" He asked grasping my wrist. "I don't give a damn where you came from or what your daddy's last name was, but I just wanted to warn you."
"Leonard?" Came a woman's voice. "My goodness, is that really you?" A tall, slender woman in a bright yellow sundress came running from the porch with her arms spread wide. She wrapped her arms around his neck with a broad smile. "I'm glad you finally made your way back home like the prodigal son!" She sighed in a deep drawl holding him at arm's length and looking him over.
"Charlotte, this is my colleague Dr. Collins. Collins, this is my sister Charlotte." He introduced still a little guarded.
"Oh, another doctor!" She declared extending her hand for me to shake. "I will say you will feel right at home then! What branch of medicine do you practice, honey?" From anyone else's lips the pet name would have been insulting, but it seemed as natural for her as breathing.
"Not that kind of doctor." McCoy corrected. "Mental type stuff." He tapped the side of his head for emphasis.
"Oh!" She smiled. I couldn't get over how much her eyes looked exactly like McCoy's. "Well now, that is something different! It would be a relief to hear about somethin' other than insides and physical decay. Myself included, of course. I am an anesthesiologist." She explained. I nodded and she brushed her dark hair out of her eyes. "Silly me, keeping y'all standing out here, y'all are likely to fry like an egg in those uniforms." She stated embarrassed. "Put your things down right there and I'll have Peter bring them in the house. Y'all come up and sit on the porch. I'll get some lemonade."
I took a seat next to McCoy in ornately carved whitewashed rocking chairs and enjoyed the heavy perfumey smell of magnolias. I smiled gleefully at him. "You really are Rhett Butler!" He tried to frown but ended up smirking. Overhead, a ceiling fan with woven tan blades turned slowly stirring the thick air. A man walked out of the house and gave us a nod before lugging our bags up the stairs. Although he didn't say so I assumed he was Peter, and it didn't look as though McCoy knew him either.
Charlotte returned with a tray filled with glasses and a sweating pitcher of yellow liquid. I hated lemonade because it was often far more sour than sweet and invariably it made my stomach hurt. I didn't have the heart to decline her hospitality, so I accepted my glass with a quiet, "Thank you, Charlotte."
"Now there!" She smiled. "You just call me Leti." I was a little confused and McCoy looked vaguely uncomfortable. "Oh, Leonard." She gently scolded giving him his glass. "Leti is what he called me when he was just a baby learnin' to talk. Bless him, he couldn't say my name quite right, but it stuck and now everybody calls me that so you can too."
I took a sip of my lemonade and wasn't sure if it or McCoy's expression was more sour. "Damn it, Leti! Do you…"
"Leonard Horatio!" She declared with a frown that was almost identical to McCoy's. I wanted to point and laugh. "There will be none of that talk at this house, now mind your manners!" He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. "You will need lots of practice." She added in a breezy tone.
He immediately stopped and looked up with fire in his eyes. "Why?" He growled.
"My but you have become rude since you joined the military." She commented taking a sip of her drink daintily. "I do think that in some ways it has made you a better man, but that mouth! You always did have a sharp tongue, but I declare if your language has headed straight to the gutter. Don't you speak that pretty French anymore?"
"Je, cesse toujours maintenant de m'harceler." He muttered and I swore the ambient temperature rose a few degrees. I thought about holding my cool glass to my head since it wasn't being used for anything else.
"It has been a long time since I practiced, but I wouldn't doubt it if you slipped a few curse words in there, and I am not nagging you." She smiled. "Anyway, I am hosting a little soirée tonight for charity…"
"No, no." He protested vehemently waving his hand.
She continued without skipping a beat, "…and there are a lot of ladies out there who are just dying to meet the famous Dr. Leonard McCoy and are willing to pay a great deal to do so."
The expression on his face was pained and he slumped in his seat. "I didn't bring my dress uniform." He mentioned as if he already knew it was futile.
"No matter, honey. It is a costume ball. Now run on upstairs and get fitted." She instructed with patient determination.
"Leti." He whined rubbing his eyes.
"Go on, now. You want to look your best, don't you?" She smiled. "Did I mention it was for charity?" She added for extra guilt.
He scowled at her as he got up and left, but she coyly smiled. "The boy never has had a sense of composure to him." She giggled into her glass. "What a travesty, he could have made such a wonderful gentleman. Pity what happened."
I wasn't entirely sure what she meant. "Do you mean his ex-wife?" I asked.
"So he told you." She smirked. "I thought it was disaster waitin' to happen from day one and I do believe he knew it too, but he tried to make it right anyway. No good makin' a pet out of an alligator I always say." She sighed deeply. "Now his momma and daddy won't have nothin' to do with him because she was not 'high born' as you might say and it reflected poorly on the McCoy family name. I never gave no mind to that old fashioned notion so long as he was happy. Too bad he wasn't because he ended up losin' everything." She shook her head in pity. "Well, at least it seems he has a good friend in Jimmy Kirk and it was a surprise to know he was bringin' you along too. Now that is something for him to bring folks around. I'm sorry I couldn't get a costume for you in time to join the party."
"That's fine." I smiled. "I wouldn't have the first clue about how to dance or act. It will be good just to watch and learn. I am pretty much a wallflower anyway."
Guests began arriving as the sun sank below the trees and the crickets began to chirp. I sat at the top of the stairs and noted the oil paintings, leather bound books and fine carpets that filled the interior. The floorboards creaked as I walked, adding to the charm and ambiance. I glanced up to take in the beautiful crystal chandelier that hung from the ceiling. I sat there for most of the night listening to the orchestra play waltzes of various speeds and watching McCoy begrudgingly entertain his sister's guests and spin this one before twirling that one. The ladies looked like so much colorful confetti as they floated across the floor in puffy taffeta and lace dresses. He looked quite handsome in his black tuxedo, but he also looked miserable the few times he glanced up at me.
Even though the windows were open, the house was stuffy with all the bodies and lanterns that cast soft light on the crowd. I crept down the stairs so as not to bother any of the guests and slipped outside. I walked to the orchard drawn by the smell of peaches in the night air. I sat on the grass and looked up at the sky as the faint music from the band drifted by and I thought about the Enterprise and her crew and wondered where they were out there.
I heard the soft shuffling of footsteps behind me and McCoy's soft drawl say, "I was wondering the same thing myself. We will be back soon."
"What are you doing out here?" I asked with a smirk. "Don't you have dance cards to fill?"
He scoffed. "I saw you sneak out and I thought that was the best idea anyone's had all night. But I always have room for one more dance." He smiled and extended his hand to help me up.
"I don't know how!" I laughed standing up. "I'm a hillbilly, remember? We don't do them fancy dances."
"Then what better time to learn than now?" He chuckled. "We have nice music and no one around to see."
It felt awkward having one hand around his waist and the other holding his hand slightly in the air. We spun in circles much faster than we did the last time we danced and he patiently counted out the steps as we twirled. I was constantly stepping on his feet or being in the wrong place nearly tripping us both, but he took it all in stride. The style was much more rigid and formal than I thought it would be and after several repetitions I finally got the hang of it. At the conclusion of my first fully successful attempt he backed away and gracefully bowed while informing me I should courtesy. Even that took work to do properly, but he smiled anyway.
He put his arm around my shoulders and we looked up at the moon casting it's light on the ground. "Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she." He sighed.
"Romeo and Juliet?" I breathed feeling my knees go weak again.
"The greatest love story ever written." He whispered. His eyes were dreamy and his lips irresistibly full by the moonlight. I had tasted those lips once before and I wanted them again.
"I want to kiss you so badly." I confessed.
He smiled lightly and replied, "Then do it."
We wrapped our arms around each other and I felt electricity surge though my body when our lips gently met. It was pure magic and tension. I felt as though I were exploding, on fire and floating all at once. I hadn't realized how long I had wanted this; to feel alive again was simply amazing and he was so careful and warm I felt like kicking myself for not plucking up the courage sooner.
When we finally broke the spell, his eyes were glazed and he was breathing rapidly. It seemed his experience was similar to mine. Just past him I saw Leti behind a tree smiling among the fireflies that lit up all around us like sparks.