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2009 Mistletoe Magic … a Short Story ... by LorreB I Know Him So Well ... FanMade Video ... by LorreB Funny Video Clip of Betty White on Craig Ferguson's Show
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From Cathy
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STIC -- 2009 ... I Know Him So Well
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From GraceBe
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Mistletoe Magic … a Short Story ... by Lorre B … Monday, December 21, 2009 … Cedars Sinai Hospital … 2:05 pm PST … Eric fell off the ladder while decorating the Forrester Mansion Christmas tree (alone) and hit his head on the edge of the nearby table. The housekeeper found him unconscious and bleeding and called 911. He was taken to the hospital and his wife and children were called. “What in the hell is keeping the doctors?” Thorne mumbled anxiously as he glanced at his watch -- for the third time. “Here they come now.” Ridge announced as they all stood. After the introductions, one of the doctors suggested, “Let’s sit down.” He motioned to the chairs then waited before he began, “We’ve examined your husband thoroughly, Mrs. Forrester, and have all the test results back. Mr. Forrester sustained a minor concussion in the fall as well as a laceration to the right temple area which required ten stitches. In order to maintain the necessary pressure to the wound, we did have to apply the bandage over his eyes so he’ll be unable to see for the next 24 hours or so. We don’t expect there to be any vision impairment or further complications from the head injury.” He paused. “However, while he has begun to regain consciousness, Mr. Forrester appears to be experiencing some confusion and memory loss. This isn’t uncommon for this type of injury or for a man of his age. And we don’t expect it to be permanent. But for the moment, your husband believes it be December 21st -- 2006.” He paused, waiting for a reaction. “Three years ago?” Donna finally spoke up stunned, looking over at the others, at a loss to say anything else. “Yes. Mr. Forrester is quite clear about the date he believes it to be. Exactly three years ago. He remembers what he was doing earlier today -- three years ago today and everything before that -- but not the accident itself or anything that happened afterwards. There’s quite a bit of confusion about that.” “Mr. Forrester appears to be quite anxious and agitated as he falls in and out of consciousness.” The other doctor began to explain. “His heart rate and blood pressure are elevated and erratic and that has us concerned considering his age and medical history. We’re administering medication to help get that under control but it will take time. In the meantime, we need to do everything we can to calm him down as he regains consciousness on a more regular basis.” He paused. “You’ll be relieved to hear that your husband is asking for you, Mrs. Forrester. He’s very emphatic about having his wife with him. We feel your presence will have a very calming affect on him.“ The doctor gave Donna a reassuring look. “There is one more thing … Mr. Forrester keeps mumbling the same word … stuff or stuffy … over and over again. Does that make any sense to any of you?” The all just looked at each other silently before Thorne’s mood quickly brightened. “Our mother’s name is Stephanie … Steph and Stephie are his nicknames for her.” “Steph and Stephie … that does makes sense then … is she here?” The doctor quickly looked around. “No --” “Well -- get her here. ASAP.” “They’re divorced. He’s remarried.” Felicia explained, motioning towards Donna with her head, making a face. “I don’t care. The fact that your father keeps repeating her name must mean something. We need to do whatever we can to calm him down and stabilize his vital signs.” “December 2006. Three years ago ... Mother and Dad were still married -- to each other. ” Thorne finally realized out loud. “Well then -- that changes everything. Your mother is obviously the wife he’s so adamant about having here.” The doctor pointed out. "You need to get her here -- right away." “Mother’s at work.” Thorne pointed out as he looked at his watch then took his phone out of his pocket. “Thorne, you can’t call and tell Mother something like this over the phone.” Ridge was quick to point out. “And she won’t be in any condition to drive herself. I’ll go there and tell her and bring her here.” "I haven't called Bridget yet." Brooke finally spoke up. "You could save some time by calling her and telling her what's going on. Then she could tell Stephanie and drive her here." "Good idea." Ridge decided as he pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number. ------------------------ “Mmmm … you’re here.” Eric realized groggily as soon as Stephanie walked closer to the bed. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, an easy, confident smile forming. “My breath of fresh air has finally arrived… I would know that scent anywhere … took you long enough.” He sighed as he reached out his hand. “Well … you know how traffic is this time of year.” Stephanie murmured uneasily as she took hold of his hand. “Come closer, my love.” He insisted as he gave her hand a squeeze. “None of this makes any sense … where have you been, Steph? One minute, I fall asleep with you in my arms after we made love and the next, I wake up in this hospital bed -- all alone -- and they tell me I‘ve lost three years in the process.” “How are you feeling?” She asked as she gently combed her fingers through his hair. “No more talk until you kiss me first.” He decided. Stephanie hesitated then leaned down and gave his forehead a tender kiss. “You’ll have to do better than that if you want to make me feel better.” He pointed out then puckered his lips expectantly. Stephanie hesitated again then leaned down and gave his lips a tender kiss. Eric pulled her closer, continuing their kiss for a long moment then let out a heavy, contented sigh. “Mmmm … exactly what the doctor ordered. I’m ready to go home now.” He announced as he kept Stephanie close and nuzzled her neck with another contented sigh. “Not so fast, Mr. Forrester.” One of the doctors spoke up as he moved closer to the bed. “I’m feeling much better.” Eric insisted, pulling Stephanie down to sit on the edge of the bed next to him. “We can see that. You’re vital signs have stabilized considerably since your wife arrived.” “Like I said -- she’s just what the doctors ordered.” Eric let out another sigh as he found Stephanie’s lips again and gave her another deep kiss. “We still need to keep you here overnight -- for observation.” The other doctor spoke up pensively as he continued to go over the latest printouts from the monitors. “Though -- I do have to admit -- the improvement is remarkable.” He raised an eyebrow at the other doctor. “You know what they say about the miraculous healing powers of love … forty-seven years now -- and counting.” Eric managed a grin. Stephanie gave the doctors an uneasy look. “Uh -- yes … about that … we do still need to deal with your memory loss, Mr. Forrester.” One of the doctors was quick to point out. “I remember everything that I need to remember … what difference can a few years make. Though I do like the idea of celebrating our golden 50th anniversary.” Eric insisted as he brought Stephanie’s hand up to his lips. “Why aren’t you wearing your rings?” He asked confused. “Oh -- uh … well --” Stephanie stammered as she held onto Eric’s hands. “Making Christmas cookies for our grandchildren, I bet.” Eric guessed. “Maybe even a batch of Chocolate Macadamia for their grandpa?” “Absolutely.” She gave his hands a reassuring pat. “This is going to be the best Christmas and New Years we’ve had in a long time … all of our children and grandchildren together … everybody healthy and happy … the two of us more in love with each other than ever before -- ” “You should really get some rest, Eric. Give that hard head of yours some time to heal.” Stephanie decided uneasily. “The children and I will come back later --” “You’re not going anywhere.” Eric quickly interrupted her emphatically. “I mean it, Steph … please -- stay here with me … the children can find their own way home.” “Eric -- you need to rest.” “Don’t leave me, Stephie … please.” He insisted. “You know how I get without you.” “Mr. Forrester -- you need to calm down.” One of the doctors spoke up as he noticed the spike in Eric’s blood pressure reading. “I will calm down -- if you’ll all just leave me alone with my wife.” He assured him then managed to pull Stephanie down closer into him. “Mmmm … we just need to recapture some of that Mistletoe Magic we had going for us earlier today … mmmm … see -- I am feeling so much calmer already … “ He sighed contentedly as he nuzzled her neck. “Remember our first Christmas together … the only Christmas when it was just the two of us … you came home from shopping and I had hung up all that Mistletoe every place I could … you couldn’t make a move without me --” His voice trailed off as he let out another sigh. “Unbutton your blouse so I can nuzzle your breasts.” Eric murmured groggily as he pulled Stephanie even closer. “Eric --” “What?” “We’re not alone.” She reminded him in a self-conscious whisper. “So … our children have seen me do a lot more than that. And we both sleep better when I’m nestled in the warm softness of your bosom.” He teased, managing a smirk. “I bet you’re blushing … my beautiful blushing bride.” He laughed carefully then made a face and reached up to rub his head. “Eric … that‘s enough.” Stephanie insisted as she pulled free and sat up straight. “Uh … would you all please leave … just give us a few minutes alone.” She decided, avoiding looking at anyone -- especially Donna. -------------------------- “So -- are we finally alone?” Eric asked after he heard the door close. “Yes.” Stephanie answered slowly, her eyes narrowing pensively as she watched him lying there. “I’m at a distinct disadvantage here -- not being able to see you … see your expression -- the look in your eyes.” He pointed out as he reached out his hand to her. “So tell me what I’m missing.” “Let’s just say that I don’t think I’m missing much -- for a change.” She told him quietly as she took hold of his hand then paused. “This is all an act -- isn’t it?” He hesitated. “An act?” “The amnesia. You’re pretending to have lost your memory of the past three years.” He hesitated again then frowned. “Well -- you have to admit, Stephanie -- the past three years are certainly worth forgetting.” She let out a heavy sigh as she shook her head slowly. “I’m sure your wife would disagree with that.” “You’re the only wife I want … we both know that … so let’s BOTH stop pretending any different.” “Did you really think this would work? You could just claim to have amnesia and that would be the end of it?” “It’ll work for a while.” “And then what?” “Then -- we’ll worry about it -- then.” “WE’LL worry about it?” “I’ll deal with it … later.” “After the holidays.” “After the holidays.” He pulled her closer. “Lie down with me and let’s get some rest. I’m starting to feel really groggy again.” He sighed tiredly. “I cant, Eric … I can’t go along with this --” “Stephie …” “Don’t start with that … I’m not your Stephie … I’m not your wife … you can’t just erase the past three years --” “Yes -- I can.” He insisted. “Temporarily. Long enough to give us time to be together … to heal … to get through the holidays as a family again … to regain our strength and make plans for our future … Stephie, please … it’s what we both want and need … it’s what our children want and need … we can make it right again … we just need time. Just give us the time to heal. Please.” He finally managed to pull her down into a deep kiss. “I’ve missed you so much, Stephie … I love you so much …” His voice trailed off when he felt the wetness on her cheeks. “Don’t cry, sweet girl … my sweet, sweet girl … this is our new beginning …” “Oh God … how many times have you told me that …” She whispered as she pulled free and straightened, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “I can’t believe you, Eric … not any more … I can’t go through this again … not ever again … it’s over … it has to be over. Once and for all.” She stood then hesitated. “Goodbye, Eric.” She whispered emotionally then turned and hurried out the door. --------------------------- “Mother … what is it?” Felicia asked, confused by Stephanie’s mood. Stephanie hesitated then sat down with a heavy, tired sigh. “Your father is faking his amnesia --” She finally told them quietly. “What --” “Are you serious?” “Why would he do that?” Stephanie waited for her children to fall silent then raised an eyebrow. “He didn’t want to face Christmas and New Year’s with the way things are between us.” She shrugged. “After he regained consciousness, he realized he could use the bump on his head and the confusion he was feeling as an excuse … temporary amnesia --” “To get him through the holidays.” Ridge concluded. Stephanie just nodded. “And then afterwards, he would miraculously regain his memory and things would go back to the way they were.” Ridge gave his brother and sister a disgusted look. “Not much different from last year … when I thought we were back together … and he was going behind my back … or the year before that …” Stephanie managed to point out, making a face. “What a complete ass … how could he be so selfish and insensitive?” Felicia murmured. “Oh please … this is Dad we’re talking about. The world’s biggest most selfish ass --” “Thorne --” “Well -- he is and we all know it.” “That doesn’t matter now … it‘s over and I’m leaving.” Stephanie pointed out as she stood, trying not to let them see her wipe away a tear. “He has to stop doing this to you.” Ridge pointed out as he stood and pulled her into his arms. “Tell HIM that.” Stephanie murmured sadly. “Let’s all just leave … we’ll leave him here alone to face the mess he’s made.” Felicia decided as she wrapped her arms around her mother. “He’s your father and he has a concussion and the doctors are still worried about his blood pressure --” “And he has a wife -- let her deal with all of that.” Thorne pointed out as he kissed her hair. “We’re taking you home.” “We’re our family and we’ll get us through the holidays.” Felicia assured her. “Even better than that -- we’re going to have the best holidays ever.” Ridge decided as he tightened his arms around his mother.
~The Visitor~ -- 2008 To me the most beautiful thing about Christmas is the family. The laughter, the joy, the togetherness and the special smell of Christmas that sneaks through the house and fills the air with jolly anticipation. I have to admit this year everything would be a lot differently but I know in my heart that no loved one who leaves us is gone forever. They stay in our heart and remain there and sometimes when things turn for the worse they shine as a light that guides us through our lives. But here I go blithering again. Things change constantly. That’s life and nothing can avoid change as much as people might want that. Maybe Christmas belongs to the things that guarantees continuity but when someone you loved is gone even Christmas changes. Usually we all would celebrate in our family home in L.A. but since my husband Ian died almost ten months ago I decided to go up here for Christmas. Of course many wonderful memories of our married life are waiting here to haunt as well but at least no memories of Christmas. We always came up here to spend New Years Eve here in this cabin. To see the new year arriving in the snow with all our friends had always have something special for me. The fireworks and the snow always created an atmosphere that cloaked me in joyful anticipation for the fresh born year that lies ahead of me. But why am I talking about New Years Eve when I still have to prepare Christmas lunch? I’m just glad I haven’t forgotten anything because when I looked outside the window a few minutes ago I noticed it had started snowing again. At least I wouldn’t have go to outside anymore. Hopefully the streets will be free till lunch time so that my children and my grandchildren can arrive safely. Bending my head a bit I look at my Christmas tree and admire it. I love the old decoration I got from my mother after she had died some years ago. Actually it is the most precious thing I ever got from her. It reminds me about a better time and every year it gives me a certain amount of peace to get all the old pieces out of their boxes to clean them. It’s the sign that Christmas arrives – finally. The stockings are prepared and hang at the fireplace, the turkey is inside the oven and on the radio the beloved voices of Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra sing about the marvellous marshmallow world outside. I can’t hide my smile. Soon the cabin will be filled with the laughter of my 5 grandkids and their parents. My oldest son Keith and his wife Patricia have two wonderful girls. Charlotte or Charlie as we use to call her and Carrie. Ian used to tease me and Charlie when he compared us to each other. Although both girls have the same blond hair I used to have in my youth Charlie is as much as a tomboy as I was while Carrie is more like her own mother. She’s a lot shyer and less rebellious than her twin sister. My second child, Lorelay has two children with her second husband Phil. Our relationship has been rather difficult over the years but eventually we’ll come along one day. Little Jimmy and his baby sister Marisa are both very dear to me and I can’t imagine my life without them. My youngest daughter Brennan is a real whirlwind. She is dark-haired as Ian was and very witty. She still refuses to tell me who the father of her already 6 year old daughter is. Seems my motherly skills sometimes lack when it comes to my daughters but I hope they all know how much I love them. Although Ian is gone I’ve prepared a stocking for him as well. He loved Christmas and keeping his stocking inside the box would hurt me too much. He is still a part of me and still the head of this family. Satisfied with my accomplishment I go into the kitchen to pour myself some hot coffee. I’ve been up since 6 am after a rather sleepless night. Sometimes phases of insomnia hit me and I can only wait till they’ve passed by. To my surprise a frank knock at my door interrupts my well-deserved coffee break. A quick glance at my watch tells me it’s far too early for my family to arrive and so first peek out of the window before I open the door. I can only see the back of someone. A man apparently. When I open the door and a pair of brown gentle eyes meet mine. At first I’m taken aback by his appearance. He must be around my age. Elegant with grey hair and a few dark strays and some lost snow flakes glittering on it. His whole face shines with friendliness and charm. Somehow he reminds me about Ian. His clothes are expensive and very well-chosen. A man with taste apparently. Just like Ian. “Excuse me, please,” he says friendly and gives me wide smile. “But I have a problem with my car. Could I use your phone?” He lifts his hand and shows me his cell phone. “My battery has died about 5 miles from here!” “Oh of course! Come in, please… where was I with my thoughts?” He enters the cabin and looks around. “That’s a lovely place,” he says and smiles at me. “Thank you.” “Beautiful decoration.” He points at my tree. “Well, I did my best. I expect my family to arrive soon. It’s Christmas after all.” “Right it is… ” He stretches his hand out and I take it and we exchange formal a formal Christmas greeting. His hands are warm and gentle. Not the hands of someone who is used to work with his hands. An impression that supports my idea of him. He seems wealthy. “My phone is in the kitchen. Just help yourself.” “Thank you. That’s indeed very kind.” I show him the phone behind the kitchen counter and turn discreetly away so that he can make his call. A few minutes later he comes back into the living room. “I’ve talked to my office and they’ll send me a driver up here.” “Oh… wonderful. You can stay here if you want to…” What am I saying here? “I have some fresh coffee.” He smiles whole-heartedly at me and nods. “Coffee would be wonderful. It’ll take an hour to get here so if you wouldn’t mind if I stayed here…” his voice trails off and he rubs his hands. “It’s a cosy place you have here.” I return the smile: “It’s no problem at all. Make yourself comfortable.” I take his coat and offer him a seat on the couch. “What brings you up here in this lonely place?” I ask while I take care of my turkey and prepare a cup with coffee for him. “I have a cabin about two miles from here. I was going to meet my fiancée here for Christmas,” he explains. “How romantic,” I can’t help but to chuckle and give him the cup. “That’s what I wanted it to be.” He makes a face. “Something wrong?” I ask when he suddenly seems lost in his thoughts. “It’s just… you know my battery died while we were arguing. Her idea of a perfect Christmas is going to Barbados to celebrate with a Tequila Sunrise. I prefer snow and eggnog.” This time a smile crosses his face. “I can understand that completely,” I inform him and settle down next to him. “And now you’re on mission to convince her of your version?” “Actually I’m not sure I want to convince her. The Christmas problem is just one of many.” He drinks from his coffee and we fall into an almost embarrassing silence. He makes me curious and I would love to learn more about him but he is a perfect stranger to me… I can’t ask him questions I wouldn’t want to answer myself. “Well, I don’t want to bother you with my problems. Not in here…” His eyes roam again the room and get stuck at the stockings at the fireplace. He can see him counting them. “Wow… you have a big family.” “3 children, two of them with their spouses and 5 grandchildren,” I explain with a smile on my face as I recall their faces. “And who belongs the last stocking?” He asks curiously. My smile fades a bit. “My husband Ian. He passed away about ten months ago.” “Oh… I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to remind you… I mean…” His cheeks flush a bit but I interrupt his stumbled apology. “Don’t be sorry… you couldn’t know. It’s fine.” “It was a bit insensitive from my side. I’m sorry.” He sips again from his coffee and to ease the new aroused tension I ask: “Do you have children?” “Two with my first wife Beth. My son is working with me in our business and my daughter is the free-spirited artist… she owns her own gallery by now.” “That’s wonderful. You must be proud of them.” A smile crossed his face. “Oh, yes I am. Rick is a wonderful business man and Maggie… she’s just… Maggie.” “You mentioned your ex-wife…” I hint carefully and get up to look how my turkey is doing. “Actually she’s my first and third wife.” His face became a grimace. “Sounds fascinating,” I retort and can’t hide my surprise. Who would marry someone more than one time and divorce again?! “Actually it isn’t. We’re just two people who never belonged together. It took me some time to realize that but it’s the truth.” He has risen from the couch to follow me to the kitchen. He sits down at the counter. “Do you want another coffee?” “If you have one… I really like your coffee.” “I aim to please.” I refill his cup and take my time to have a closer look at his face. I really like him. For a reason I can’t tell his presence pleases me. It’s nice to talk to someone who has my hair-colour. I’m sure our ideas about life and how it should he lived differ a lot and yet I feel we speak the same language. “And this woman who doesn’t like snow is destined to become your… fourth wife?” “I don’t know if she’s destined to become my next wife. Maybe she isn’t.” He thinks for a moment and adds: “You know I have to admit I’m little scared that the guest-list on my funeral will be either too long or too short. And I don’t want to look down on my grave stone to read “He leaves 4 ex-wives and a broken company.” Trying to imagine that I start laughing and he joins me. “What kind of company do you have?” “Marketing. Forrester & Sloan… we sell everything.” “Good slogan.” “We aim to please.” He makes a silent toast and blinks at me. “Marketing is a hard business in L.A.,” I remark as I prepare a pot filled with potatoes. “It is… but we belong to the best. When I was young I wanted to become a designer. A second Ralph Lauren and even better… but well…. I ended up in a marketing company where they needed a graphic designer. My boss realized I could do more and better and after a few years I had a job in the management… and a decade later I owned the whole place.” “The American dream… My husband took over the company from his father. It produced and sold bolts and nails.” We exchange a look and start to chuckle. “Well, that’s a crisis-proof business! Just as undertaking and marketing!” “How did you meet the Master of bolts and nails?” “In college in Princeton… my father wanted me to attend the North-Western but I wanted some fresh air…” “Really?” He looks surprised. “I was in North-Western… we could have met!” “True…” I blush a bit and find myself liking the idea. Very much so. “Well, a pity but I’ve always been very head-strong. But on the other hand you’ve been lucky… You have no idea what had hit you!” My eyes meet his and I blush when I notice the sudden sparkles in his eyes. “I guess, you’re right,” he says in a lower, almost teasing voice. I turn quickly away to hide my blushing face and clear my throat. I don’t know why but suddenly I want to break the spell between us… he is just a stranger after all. I don’t even know his name… was it Forrester or Sloan? “My son Keith manages the company since Ian is dead. He’s quite good and his wife helps him. It’s a family business.” “You seem to have a wonderful family.” “We have our problems, believe me… I have a tendency to overprotect my children. I know my nickname among my kids’ teachers was “Terminator”.” “Well, but you’ll have your children here for Christmas… my son will celebrate with his mother and her new husband in Montreal while Maggie stays in Europe. Her new boyfriend lives in Paris… artists, you know.” “I see…” It seems as if he is just realizing that all he has in store for Christmas is a fiancée in a cabin he can’t reach right now. Actually someone he isn’t sure about anyway. I look at my tree and the stockings and feel sorry for him. A man so good looking, so kind, rich and yet lonely. I feel sorry for him when I think about my own imperfect family and how much I love them. “I heard Christmas in Paris is a very glamorous occasion!” I say to ease the mood. “Maybe… as I said I prefer snow and eggnog. My recipe is famous!” “Really? Shoot!” “Most important is the rum! If you haven’t enough rum you can forget the whole thing!” “Sounds dangerous.” I just have to smile upon the bright smile on his face. Maybe the man is not just a survivor but also what I use to call a master of the art of living. He doesn’t seem to look back nor does he look forward. Living with him must be a big adventure… but what am I thinking? I don’t even know him… as a matter of fact I don’t even know if I would had looked twice at him if we met in an elevator… and who am I fooling now? Of course I would have looked twice… I try to pay attention to the already boiling potatoes. The last thing I want is that he feels observed by me. “So you used to poison your family with eggnog,” I conclude casually and he nods proudly. “They loved it but just didn’t admit it.” “Of course, they didn’t.” “You like being sarcastic, don’t you? I like that.” “Maybe I am sarcastic… maybe just honest.” “I guess to find that out is a mission for life!” “At least that’s what I’m told.” We exchange a smile and silence carried by contentment settles in. “You like to have the last word,” he says after a while and leans slightly over to study my face. I don’t know why but I turn to him and this time I don’t blush when his eyes roam over my face. I’m sure his fiancée is a more pleasant sight but I don’t feel defeated by this. It challenges me… “And you like to flirt.” “Only when I’m tempted.” “And you feel tempted right now?” “Animated… and interested.” A sharp knock at the door interrupts us just as I open my mouth to respond to him. I can see he isn’t pleased with the break that is forced upon us but he takes a look at his watch and says: “Could be my driver.” “I’ll open the door.” It’s indeed the driver. “Nice car,” I remark when I get a glimpse of the big Jeep outside in the snow. “Well, up here one needs a good car.” I watch him as he slips into his coat and somehow I feel sorry he intends to leave… I would miss him once he had walked out of my door. “I don’t know how to thank you for your coffee and your company.” We are standing face to face. His hands are in his pockets and he looks quite helpless. Lost of words… for the first time since he entered my cabin. “It was my pleasure. I can’t remember I ever had a more pleasant visitor on Christmas morning.” “You’ve been a very charming hostess. Thank you for everything.” He stretches his hand out and I take it. “Merry Christmas.” “Merry Christmas.” One last glance, one last smile and he leaves my house and my life again. When his car is out of sight I close the door, lean against it for a little while and smile. I still don’t know his name. ~Fini~
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The Way We Were
... sung by Doris Day