Cecilys Medford Quotes

The bank man had been standing quietly by our picnic table, waiting to lock up the house. Around his waist he wore a live rattlesnake for a belt. Behind it, his stomach was a black hole of hunger. ~ C.E. Medford

My earliest thought, long before I was in high school, was just to go away, get out of my house, get out of my city. I went to Medford High School, but even in grade school and junior high, I fantasized about leaving. ~ Paul Theroux

Are you a relative of her late husband?" the woman asked.
His eyes widened. "I beg your pardon?"
"It must be so hard for her, pregnant and just widowed," the middle-aged woman continued. "We've all done what we could to make her happy here. Mr. Johnson, the curator, is a widower himself. He's already sweet on her. But you're probably anxious to see Mrs. Peterson. Shall I ring her and let her know you're coming?"
Tate's eyes were blazing. "No," he said with forced politeness. "I want to surprise her!"
He stalked out, leaving the rented vehicle where it was as he trudged through the small layer of snow and glared contemptuously at the cars sliding around in the street as they passed. This little bit of snow was nothing compared to the six-foot snowdrifts on the reservation. Southerners, he considered, must not get much winter precipitation if this little bit of white dust paralyzed traffic!
As for Cecily's mythical dead husband, he considered, going up the walkway to the small brick structure where she lived, he was about to make a startling, resurrected appearance!
He knocked on the door and waited.
There was an irritated murmur beyond the closed door and the sound of a lock being unfastened. The door opened and a wan Cecily looked straight into his eyes.
He managed to get inside the screen door and catch her before she passed out.
She came to on the sofa with Tate sitting beside her, smoothing back her disheveled hair. The nausea c ~ Diana Palmer

...I'm going to stop worrying about what might happen to us. With the Lord's help we've been able to make ourselves a good living ever since Father died, and the fortune that has befallen us here in Medford certainly doesn't lead me to believe we will be abandoned now. ~ Ralph Moody

Sober, gainfully employed, and physically secure once again, Kevin began to relax. His confidence slowly returned. For the first time since the onset of his blindness, he let his guard down and a crack in his carefully constructed veneer formed.
Light flooded in.
And with it, hope. ~ Traci Medford-Rosow

Yes?" he said impatiently.
There was a pause. "You wouldn't believe how many people I had to bribe to get this new number of yours. But I didn't think past getting you to answer the phone," Colby said reluctantly. "I don't know how to tell you this."
"You and Cecily are getting married," Tate drawled sarcastically, hating the very idea of it and trying not to let it show. "I can't say it's any big surprise. Was there anything else?"
There was another pause. "Cecily won't marry me."
"Tough." Tate wasn't going to admit how much that admission pleased him, even if she wouldn't answer her damned phone when he tried to call her. "So?"
Colby laughed mirthlessly. "I thought this was the right thing to do. Now, I'm not sure if it is."
"I'm not pleading your case for you," Tate replied. His voice was icy. Then he hesitated. His heart skipped a beat as another reason for this call occurred and chilled his blood. "Has something happened to her?" he asked immediately.
"She's not hurt or anything," the other man replied. "It's just than I can't find her. Maybe they can't find her, either," he continued, sounding as if he was talking to himself.
Tate had a terrible sinking feeling in his stomach. He broke the Internet connection on the other line and turned off the computer. "What's up?" he asked, sounding the way he used to, when he and Colby were colleagues in the old days.
"Cecily's done a flit," Colby told him. "She's gone and I can't find h ~ Diana Palmer

Tate won't like it that we kept the truth from him."
"I'm resigned to that," Cecily said half-truthfully. "He would never have turned to me, anyway, even if he knew he had mixed blood. I've been living on dreams too long already."
"If you go away from him, he'll follow you," Leta said unexpectedly. "There's a tie, a bond, between you that can't be broken."
"There's Audrey," Cecily pointed out.
"Honey, there have been other Audreys," she replied. "He never brought them home or talked about them. They were loose relationships, and not very many at all-never any who were innocent."
"Audrey's lasted a long time."
Leta searched her eyes. "If he's sleeping with Audrey, Cecily, why can't he keep his hands off you?"
Cecily's heart turned over twice. "Wh…what?"
"Simple question," came the droll reply. She grinned at the younger woman's embarrassment. "When you came in the kitchen that last time you were here, before Tate left, your mouth was swollen and you wouldn't look straight at him. He was badly shaken. It doesn't take a mind-reader to know what was going on in my living room. It isn't like Tate to play games with innocent girls."
"He doesn't think I am, anymore," she returned curtly. "I let him think that Colby and I are…very close."
"Uh-oh."
She scowled. "Uh-oh, what?"
"The only thing that's kept him away from you this long is that he didn't want to take advantage of you," Leta replied. "If he thinks you're even slight ~ Diana Palmer

She was too proud to eat her share of what little food we had. She told me she had. She swore she did. But every time I complained about being so hungry it hurt, she always offered me a nut or a partially rotted turnip, claiming she had just found two and already ate hers."

Rose sniffled and wiped her eyes again.

"After she was gone, I left my pride in that little hut and begged my way to Medford. I'd do anything. Once you've spent an afternoon chasing a fly around your house for dinner, once you've eaten spiders whole and drooled over worms found while burying your mother with your bare hands, there's nothing beneath you. All I wanted was to live-I'd forgotten everything else. A clod of dirt doesn't have dreams. A bit of broken stone doesn't understand hope. Each morning, all I wanted was to see the next dawn. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Singe stopped. "You are quite right about Medford Shale, Garrett." Great-uncle Medford had figured prominently in the case where I'd first made Singe's acquaintance. "Just as you were right about me needing no distractions if I am to follow this trail. Perhaps I can have Doris knock you out, then have Marsha knock Doris out, then pray that a building collapses on Marsha." "Or we could all take a hint and save the chatter till later." "You could do that. But I am willing to bet that none of you are able." Was it Mama Garrett's boy who'd said that this ratgirl desperately needed some self-confidence? She sure didn't lack for it in this crowd. ~ Glen Cook

A little drop of Native American blood was exciting and unique. But a full-blooded Native American…she was horrified."
Cecily's opinion of the legendary Maureen dropped eighty points. She ground her teeth together. She couldn't imagine anyone being ashamed of such a proud heritage.
He looked down at her and laughed despite himself. "I can hear you boiling over. No, you wouldn't be ashamed of me. But you're unique. You help, however you can. You see the poverty around you, and you don't stick your nose up at it. You roll up your sleeves and do what you can to help alleviate it. You've made me ashamed, Cecily."
"Ashamed? But, why?"
"Because you see beauty and hope where I see hopelessness." He rubbed his artificial arm, as if it hurt him. "I've got about half as much as Tate has in foreign banks. I'm going to start using some of it for something besides exotic liquor. One person can make a difference. I didn't know that, until you came along."
She smiled and touched his arm gently. "I'm glad."
"You could marry me," he ventured, looking down at her with a smile. "I'm no bargain, but I'd be good to you. I'd never even drink a beer again."
"You need someone to love you, Colby. I can't."
He grimaced. "I could say the same thing to you. But I could love you, I think, given time."
"You'd never be Tate."
He drew in a long breath. "Life is never simple. It's like a puzzle. Just when we think we've got it solved, pieces of it fly in all ~ Diana Palmer

Don't make that mistake again," he said in a voice so quiet it was barely audible. He looked as if all his latent hostilities were waiting for an excuse to turn on her. "If you throw that cup at me, so help me, I'll carry you over and put you down in the punch bowl!"
"You and the CIA, maybe!" Cecily hissed. "Go ahead and try…!"
Tate actually took a step toward her just as Colby managed to get between them. "Now, now," he cautioned.
Cecily wasn't backing down an inch. Neither was Tate. He'd gone from lazy affection and indulgent amusement to bristling antagonism in the space of weeks. Lately he flew into a rage if Cecily's name was mentioned, but Colby hadn't told her that.
"You have no right to make that kind of insinuation about me," she said through her teeth. "I don't get jobs lying on my back, and you know it!"
Tate's black eyes narrowed. He looked formidable, but Cecily wasn't intimidated by him. She never had been. He glanced at her hands, which were clenched on her cup, and then back to her rigid features. It had infuriated him to be the object of televised ridicule at the political dinner, and Audrey's comments had only made things worse. He was carrying a grudge. But as he looked at Cecily, he felt an emptiness in his very soul. This woman had been a thorn in his side for years, ever since an impulsive act of compassion had made her his responsibility. In those days, she'd been demure and sweet and dependent on him, and her shy hero worship ~ Diana Palmer

Colby's resourceful, I'll give him that."
"You used to be good friends."
"We were, until he started hanging around Cecily," came the short reply. "I'm not as angry at him as I was. But it seems that he has to have a woman to prop him up."
"Not necessarily," Matt replied. "Sometimes a good woman can save a bad man. It's an old saying, but fairly true from time to time. Colby was headed straight to hell until Cecily put him on the right track. It's gratitude, but I don't think he can see that just yet. He's in between mourning his ex-wife and finding someone to replace her." He leaned back again. "I feel sorry for him. He's basically a one-woman man, but he lost the woman."
Tate packed back to the wing chair and sat down on the edge. "He's not getting Cecily. She's mine, even if she doesn't want to admit it."
Matt stared at him. "Don't you know anything about women in love?"
"Not a lot," the younger man confessed. "I've spent the better part of my life avoiding them."
"Especially Cecily," Matt agreed. "She's been like a shadow. You didn't miss her until you couldn't see her behind you anymore."
"She's grown away from me," Tate said. "I don't know how to close the gap. I know she still feels something for me, but she wouldn't stay and fight for me." He lifted his gaze to Matt's hard face. "She's carrying my child. I want both of them, regardless of the adjustments I have to make. Cecily's the only woman I've ever truly wanted."
Matt s ~ Diana Palmer

Thank you for checking on me. You even wore your sword."

Alric looked down. "I didn't know what beast or scoundrel might be attacking the princess. I had to come prepared to do battle."

"Can you even draw that thing?"

He frowned at her again. "Oh, quit it, will you? They say I fought masterfully in the Battle of Medford."

"Masterfully?"

He struggled to stop himself from smiling. "Yes, some might even say heroically. In fact, I believe some did say heroically."

"You've watched that silly play too many times."

"It's good theater, and I like to support the arts."

"The arts." She rolled her eyes. "You just like it because it makes all the girls swoon and you love all the attention."

"Well…" He shrugged guiltily.

"Don't deny it! I've seen you with a crowd of them circling like vultures and you grinning and strutting around like the prize bull at the fair. Do you make a list? Does Julian send them to your chambers by hair color, height, or merely in alphabetical order?"

"It's not like that."

"You know, you do have to get married, and the sooner, the better. You have a lineage to protect. Kings who don't produce heirs cause civil wars. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Even Felicity can't keep from sputtering with laughter. I wish I could use my evil eye. Or at least my evil boot right smack against Cecily's backside. ~ Libba Bray

She wants me to take what magic I have left and blot every memory of this evening from their minds. To make them forget so that they can carry on as before. There will always be Cecilys, Marthas, and Elizabeths of the world - those who cannot bear the burden of truth. They will drink their tea. Weigh their words. Wear hats against the sun. Squeeze their minds into corsets, lest some errant thought should escape and ruin the smooth illusion they hold of themselves and the world as they like it.
It is a luxury, this forgetting. No one will come to take away the things I wish I had not seen, the things I wish I did not know. I shall have to live with them.
I wrench away from her grip. "Why should I?"
I do it anyways. Once I am certain the girls are asleep, I creep into their rooms, one by one, and lay my hands across their furrowed brows, which wear the trouble of all they've witnessed. I watch while those brows ease into smooth, blank canvases beneath my fingers. It is a form of healing, and I am surprised by how much it heals me to do it. When the girls awake, they will remember as strange dream of magic and blood and curious creatures and perhaps a teacher they knew whose name will not spring to their lips. They might strain to remember it for a moment, but then they will tell themselves it was only a dream best forgotten.
I have done what Mrs. Nightwing said I should do. But I do not take all their memories from them. I leave them with one small token of ~ Libba Bray

Our house was inside a black halo, thin as a soap bubble. Everything was squeezing in on us and everything was about to burst. ~ C.E. Medford