Choices

by Lyn Gardner

  “Yeah, well there is that,” Judy said, grinning as she gave the room one last glance. “So, what do you think? Are we done in here?”

  “Yep,” Robin said as she stood up. “Let’s head to the next.”

  “Well, if it’s as easy as this one, it’s going to be a piece of cake.”

  “That’s what you think,” Robin said, and with a snicker belonging to the devil, she left the room and headed down the hall. Once Judy caught up, Robin pushed open the door leading to Central Lake. “Then again, maybe you’re a girly-girl.”

  It had been a few years since Judy had worked at Safe Harbor, but as soon as she saw the nameplate next to the door, she groaned. She had a few secrets in her closet, but being a girly-girl had never been one of them.

  Even though Judy’s go-to had always been slacks and polos, back in the day she had worn her fair share of sundresses. Flowered and flowing in the breeze, they were designed to catch a suitor’s eye and had done that more than once. However, when she moved to Mackinac, Scott no longer seemed to care what she wore, so the dresses hung in her closet until they became outdated. Although none had been purchased simply because they contained the hue deemed feminine, Judy had always liked the pale pinks and roses printed on the chiffons and linens. They were subdued and gentle to the eye, but there wasn’t anything subdued about Central Lake.

  It was all Judy could do not to recoil from the electrifying combination of fuchsia and magenta splattered all over the room, but as she turned to Robin to express her horror, Judy remembered what Robin had said. “What?” she said, placing her hands on her hips. “You don’t think I’m a girly-girl?”

  Instincts are natural. Innate behaviors brought on by sight, sound, taste, and smell, they cause newly-hatched turtles to race toward the water, babies to search out their mother’s teat...and eyes to travel when a question is asked.

  There was nothing Robin could do to stop herself from drinking in Judy’s body. As if searching for a gem, her eyes moved slowly up her form, absorbing as they went, and it wasn’t until Robin found herself gazing into Judy’s eyes when she realized what she had just done. She had blatantly and unequivocally ogled Judy like a lust-filled lesbian and the only thing Robin hadn’t done while doing it was to lick her lips. Thank God!

  The thought of hurling herself out of one of the windows crossed Robin’s mind for a split-second, but that seemed a bit melodramatic for her breach of etiquette, so she did the next best thing. She pushed aside her guilt, stood tall…and answered Judy’s question.

  “Honestly, you don’t really strike me as a girly-girl, but I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. I like you just the way you are. I always have. I only hope you’re not a fan of hot pink.”

  Judy was fully expecting Robin to bumble. Since the night they first met, it was clear that the woman who said she once sat in Judy’s homeroom was struggling with their new relationship, and Judy found Robin’s reactions adorable. She had purposely said things over the past two weeks she knew were laced with innuendo just to see the woman stammer, and Judy had done the same with her playful question, but Robin’s response took her by surprise. Her tone was clear and her words, unfaltering. Gone was the student and in her place was the woman, and that woman’s words kept echoing in Judy’s head. ‘I always have.’

  It was Judy’s turn to feel like a teenager. Robin’s honesty, while appreciated, had taken all the fun out of the game and put Judy in a place she hadn’t been in a very long time. She had no idea what to do. She had no idea what to say, and how in the hell was she supposed to respond to something like ‘I always have?’ It took a few moments for Judy to find her answer, and it was the simplest of them all. Just move on...and do it quickly.

  “I’m not a fan of hot pink or this wallpaper,” Judy said, matter-of-factly. “I say that we change everything except the furniture. You?”

  Robin beamed. “Complete agreement.”

  “Good. What’s next then?” Judy said, and without waiting for an answer, she walked from the room and went down the hall.

  Once Robin caught up to her at the next door in line, Judy pushed it open and instantly smiled. “Please don’t tell me you want to change this one.”

  Similar to what she had done in the dining room, Adele had strayed from traditional Victorian design when decorating Whitefish Falls. With only one window on the back wall bringing in natural light, Adele had chosen to use the colors of sand and surf instead of the darker tones reminiscent of a queen named Victoria.

  Atop a background of soft aqua, the silvery-gray metallic design on the textured damask wallpaper amplified the limited sunlight, and all the furniture was painted seafoam green. Accents of white had been used throughout, giving the room a light and airy feel, and the pewter tone of the iron bed mellowed the weightiness of the classically-curved head and footboard. The area rug seemed an afterthought, its gray pile bland compared to the duck egg hues used in the room, but other than that, Robin hadn’t found anything wrong with Whitefish Falls.

  “I’d love to find another carpet, but everything else is perfect,” Robin said, and reaching in front of Judy, Robin closed the door and motioned toward the room across the hallway. “However, I think that one needs lots of help.”

  Judy stared at the door leading to Bayview, trying to remember what existed behind it. Coming up blank, she went over and looked inside. “Oh,” she said, her shoulders sagging. “I remember this one. Yuck.”

  Robin followed Judy into one of the more spacious suites in Safe Harbor. Large enough to hold two beds, like Central Lake, the far wall in Bayview was pushed out in the shape of a bay window, but instead of a seating area, the queen bed backed up into the space. Just inside the door, a twin bed ran along one wall and adjacent to another was a large bureau. The remaining wall housed two doors, one leading to a tiny closet and the other to the bathroom, and while the burled walnut frames of both beds were marvelous, the colors in the room were not. The scalloped valances and drapes surrounding the windows were garnet in color, held open by thick golden ropes with tassels tangling at the ends, and the walls were in the shade of Picholine olives.

  “I wonder why she chose to paint in here rather than wallpaper,” Judy said, still wearing the grimace she walked in with.

  “I don’t know, but it’s gotta change. I don’t even like martinis.”

  Judy snorted as she made the connection. “Truth be known, neither do I.”

  Robin returned Judy’s smile with one of her own. “Seems like we’re agreeing more than we’re disagreeing.”

  “Did you think we wouldn’t?”

  “Um...no, actually. I didn’t. I guess I still have a little self-doubt hanging on. My track record when it comes to dealing with women hasn’t been too good recently.”

  “In what way?”

  Robin had long ago become content with who she was and what she was, and it was rare that it gave her pause speaking the words, but they caught in her throat for a second. “Oh...um...well, it’s no secret. I mean, I don’t hide it, but...but I guess you should know that I’m gay.” The few seconds it took for Judy to respond, were the longest in Robin’s life.

  That little tidbit came as no surprise to Judy for the leaves of Mackinac’s grapevine were plentiful. Years before, a proud aunt had told all who would listen how pleased she was her niece was so strong. It had made the rounds and then was forgotten, replaced by other rumors far juicier, but fertilized by the news of Robin’s arrival, the stories had spread again. Judy had heard them, but it wasn’t until she learned of Robin’s pen name, when hearsay became fact.

  Intrigued as to the type of books Robin wrote, Judy had run her Internet search, discovering that Robin was, in fact, quite an accomplished author, but along the way, one click on a link led to another and then to another, and before Judy knew it, she was reading R. C. Novak’s biography. It was the standard, condensed version which appeared on any site selling books, and even though some differed slightly from the others, in all of them,
Robin made no secret about her sexuality.

  Judy shifted in her stance as she thought about how to respond. “You’re right,” she said, quietly. “It’s not a secret.”

  “You knew?”

  “Yep.”

  “And it’s okay?”

  Judy cocked her head to the side. “Can you change it?”

  “What? No, of course, I can’t change it.”

  “Well then, I guess it’s okay.”

  With that, Judy moseyed down the hall, and Robin admired the sway of the woman’s hips every step of the way.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Horn’s Gaslight Bar and Restaurant is a Mackinac staple, and it has been for almost a hundred years. During prohibition, it was just a snack shop for weary tourists, but once liquor was legal again, it became well known as one of the island’s night spots. Tourists and locals alike gravitated toward the eclectic eatery, enjoying the southwestern and American fare, all the while listening to music provided by bands small enough to fit on Horn’s tiny stage.

  For those who wanted to dance, to trip the light fantastic with their spouses, dates, or partners, Horn’s offered what many on the island did not. However, with the majority of the floor space taken up by tables, chairs, and booths, and a bar that ran down an entire wall, the only spot left for a dance floor was directly in front of the small stage just to the left of the front door. Patrons were often surprised to find gyrating bodies in front of them as they entered, but like Robin had done, they would weave through the swaying couples, sometimes dancing their way into the restaurant. When Robin came inside, she could have easily tripped the light fantastic on her way to the table. Her spirits were high and her mood bright, but as the waitress placed a glass of wine next to Robin’s iced tea, Robin’s attitude had changed. Glancing at her watch, she picked up the Chardonnay.

  For Robin, the day had been surreal. From waking up and finding Judy in her kitchen to touring the house discussing decor and design, she had gone through the day so easily, so comfortably…so naturally.

  By late morning, Robin’s stutters and stammers had all but stopped. Quieted by the confidence in a friendship that seemed to be blossoming, the butterflies of her teenage infatuation stilled their wings, giving way to casual conversation, the occasional grimace at colors less than pleasing, and laughter that rang through the house. They had prattled on about colors, fabrics, and patterns until they had run out of words, and they had chuckled when they returned to rooms already visited to write down measurements they had forgotten to take. At times, they said nothing, each scrutinizing a room from every angle, but when one finally spoke, uttering their approval or just the opposite, for the next hour, they’d sit on dusty bedcovers excited about the changes they were planning to make.

  As the sun began to set, the two women walked down the stairs hip-to-hip, and although Robin was sorry to see the day come to an end, she knew there would be others. Some would be filled with conversations about the ins and outs of running a bed-and-breakfast, and some would be spent papering and painting and cleaning. And once the renovations were complete, once the rooms were pristine and tidy and ready for guests, there would still be more days. Robin’s future now included Judy Dunnigan and that fact, that reality, was all she needed. So, watching as Judy had gathered her things, Robin didn’t suggest a dinner of sausage and eggs or even a drink of coffee or wine, but as Judy walked to her bike with her backpack slung over her shoulder, she turned and did the unexpected. She invited Robin on a date.

  Okay, so it wasn’t an actual date, but that didn’t stop Robin from sprinting to her bathroom as soon as Judy pedaled out of view. Robin washed and dried and primped and preened and did all the things she would have done if it had been a real date. She even showed up early at the designated restaurant to secure a table, but as Robin looked at her watch, she let out a long sigh. Had she got the place wrong or even the time or the day? Had she somehow misunderstood Judy’s invitation? Was it definitive or had her teenage jitters returned without her knowing, jumbling the words Judy had spoken and turning them into something Robin wanted to hear?

  Robin took a healthy gulp of her wine and setting the glass hard against the table, she mentally scolded herself. It was now twenty after six and twenty minutes of feeling like a fool was all Robin could take. Launching herself out of the booth, she turned the corner to leave and ran straight into Judy. Robin’s hands found their way to the woman’s waist and as her eyes locked with Judy’s, time stood still.

  Robin knew she should let go. She knew this accidental touch was just that, but Judy didn’t seem to want to break away from the connection. She was merely smiling up at Robin just as Robin was smiling down at her.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” Judy said in a whisper. “I tried to call, but you didn’t answer.”

  It took a few seconds for Judy’s words to sink in, and forcing herself to release her hold on Judy, Robin patted the pockets of her jeans. “Oh...um...I must have left my phone at home. I’m sorry.”

  “That’s all right,” Judy said, motioning to the booth. “Shall we?”

  Robin quickly slipped back into the booth, and a moment later they were sitting opposite one another, both still wearing their smiles.

  “Were you going to leave?” Judy said, noticing the empty wine glass.

  “I...um...” Robin hung her head, taking a deep breath before she raised her eyes again. “Yeah, I thought maybe I got the wrong place or...or time.”

  “I am really sorry. Eric called just as I was about to leave.”

  Robin straightened her backbone. “Eric?”

  “Yeah, he’s my youngest brother,” Judy said, glancing down at the menu. “He wanted to make sure I didn’t forget to get him some fudge.”

  “Oh,” Robin said, her posture relaxing as she opened her menu. “You said youngest. You have more than one?”

  “Yeah, I have three,” Judy said, looking back at Robin. “Patrick is the oldest, then Douglas, and then Eric, who we affectionately call an accident.”

  “An accident?” Robin said with a laugh. “Why’s that.”

  “Because Patrick is fifty-nine. Doug is fifty-seven. I’m fifty-five, and Eric is forty-five.”

  “Wow, that is a difference.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Judy said. “Mom and Dad used to hate when we called him an accident, but he really was, not that he wasn’t loved or anything. He was just a big surprise, and we still rub it in whenever we can.”

  “I see,” Robin said, closing the menu. “And your parents? I take it they’re not alive?”

  “No. Mom died from a heart attack ten years ago, and my dad passed away the year I graduated high school. He was a heavy smoker, and it finally caught up to him.”

  “That’s too bad. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s life, but I still have my memories of them,” Judy said with a shrug. “And how about you? Any brothers or sisters?”

  “No. My dad died when I was really young and my mother never remarried. Luckily, I grew up in a small town so if I wanted to go out and play, there were always kids around.”

  “One of the plusses of coming from a small town,” Judy said, scanning the menu again. “So, what looks good to you?”

  Robin gazed at Judy, but before she could speak the waitress returned.

  “Judy, I didn’t see you dance your way in. You’re looking good,” the strawberry-blonde woman said, placing a coaster in front of Judy.

  “Thanks, Nancy,” Judy said as she glanced around the crowded room. “And I almost had to dance my way in. What’s with all the people? Don’t they know the last ferry already left?”

  “Yeah, they know,” Nancy said, rolling her eyes. “It’s a big birthday bash for a mainlander. They all checked in at Mission Point this afternoon and showed up here a few hours ago, so it’s going to be a long, noisy night.”

  “Sounds like you can’t wait for this month to end.”

  “You got that right,” Nancy said, motioning toward the menus on
the table. “You two decided on what you’d like?”

  “Honestly, I think we need a few minutes,” Judy said. “We’ve been talking more than reading.”

  “That’s fine,” Nancy said as she pointed at Robin’s empty glass. “You want another Chardonnay, sweetie?”

  “Yes, please,” Robin said, sliding the glass in Nancy’s direction.

  “How ‘bout you, Judy?” Nancy said, placing Robin’s glass on her tray.

  “Make it two, Nancy. Thanks.”

  Nancy turned around, zigzagging her way around tables and patrons as she made her way back to the bar.

  “What happens at the end of this month?” Robin said, raising her voice to get over the ever-intensifying volume of the party-goers.

  “This place closes for the year. Actually, other than the Village Inn and the Mustang, all the other bars and restaurants close, too.”

  “Really? All of them?”

  “Yep, come winter this place becomes a ghost town,” Judy said, and when she saw Robin immediately squint back at her, Judy’s dimples appeared. “No pun intended.”

  “Like I believe that,” Robin muttered as she began rereading the menu.

  Both sat quietly for a few minutes, their heads bowed as they scanned the entrees on the list until Judy broke the silence. “Hey,” she said, lifting her head. “Do you have any plans tomorrow?”

  Robin looked up, more than willing to cancel a quadruple-bypass if she had had one scheduled. “No. Why?”

  “I was...um...I was wondering if you’d like to go on a tour of the island?” Judy said, quickly looking back down at the menu.

  “You mean like one of those carriage tours?”

  Judy nibbled on her lower lip as she focused on the menu she knew by heart. Over the years, she had suggested to hundreds of visitors that to truly discover Mackinac, the best place to start was in a carriage drawn by horses. She had done it herself the first time she had come to the island...much to the chagrin of her suitor.

  Scott had wanted to take her on a private tour, and he had made his intentions more than known. With a leer and his best smile, he offered to guide her around the island on a bicycle built for two. He wanted to be alone with her to coo and cuddle when they stopped to admire the scenery, but Judy wouldn’t budge. Insisting they would have plenty of time to be alone to do what she knew Scott had on his mind, she pouted, and Scott caved in like a sinkhole. So, they climbed aboard a horse-driven carriage with a dozen other tourists on a sunny Saturday morning. Scott draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, claiming ownership to all those aboard while Judy, oblivious to his show of machismo, lost herself in the stories and history of Mackinac told by the coachman.