by Lyn Gardner
“It’s not that easy.”
“Trust me, I know,” Judy said, locking eyes with Robin. “But first it was Pam, and now it’s your mom, and you need to stop it. It’s not healthy, and there’s nothing you can do to change things, so instead of constantly kicking yourself about all the mistakes you think you’ve made, concentrate on where those supposed mistakes have brought you.”
“What?”
“Robin, if it hadn’t been for what happened with Pam, if your life in Florida had been perfect, would you have ever really entertained the idea of moving here?”
“Probably not.”
“And if your mother hadn’t loved this place so much, would you see her in everything around here?”
“Of course not.”
“You told me once that you believe in God, so I’m assuming you believe in heaven, too, and right now your mom isn’t up there, pissed off because you missed a few vacations, she’s smiling because you’re living on Mackinac. You’re walking down the streets she walked down, grinning at probably the same things that made her grin. You’re biking the trails she biked and living at Safe Harbor, the place she stayed every time she was here, and to top it all off, today is Thanksgiving. It’s a day to be thankful for what you have, so how about you think about that instead of whining about all your goddamned regrets!” Judy turned on her heel and strode down the street.
Robin spent more than a few seconds staring as Judy marched down the sidewalk before she jogged to catch up to her. “Um…I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was whining.”
Judy hung her head and then glanced at Robin. “I’m sorry, too. I don’t even know where that came from.”
“Probably from my whining,” Robin said with a laugh. “Which, by the way, I’m done doing.”
“Good to hear.”
As they approached the end of Main Street, Robin looked over her shoulder and her breath caught in her throat. There wasn’t a carriage or bicycle in sight, and with a thin blanket of snow covering everything in sight, it was picture postcard perfect. “God, that’s beautiful.”
Judy stopped, delighting in the Thomas Kincaid painting brought to life. “Yes, it is. It can be batshit crazy in the summer, but this is what makes it special for me, especially once we get a real snow.” Judy looked at her watch and then pointed down the road. “We’d better get back. We need to get the casseroles in the oven.”
“What did you mean about a real snow?” Robin said, taking two quick steps to catch up.
“This is just a dusting,” Judy said, running her hand over the top rail of the neighbor’s iron fence, the delicate whiteness gathering like moss in her hand. “Wait until it really falls.”
“Oh yeah?” Robin said as she looked out across the water. “What’s the difference?”
“This will be a lot bigger,” Judy said. Running past Robin, she turned around long enough to fire a small snowball directly at Robin’s chest before she sprinted to the house, giggling like a little girl every step of the way.
Chapter Thirty-Three
A few hours later, two women in varying stages of food-induced catatonia were reclining on opposite ends of the sofa in Robin’s living room. Their feet were propped up on the coffee table, and their eyes were closed, and the only sound to be heard was the Christmas music playing on the radio.
“Are you still awake?” Robin whispered.
“Barely.”
Robin smiled without opening her eyes. “You know, I used to buy into all that stuff about something in turkey making you sleepy, but I researched it one day, and it’s a myth.”
“Is it?”
“Yep. It’s got nothing to do with any amino acid. It’s just the fact people usually overeat on Thanksgiving and on Christmas, and maybe even Easter. I don’t know.”
“So you’re saying we’ve become a statistic?”
“Basically.”
Judy took a deep breath and opened her eyes. “Speaking of Christmas, what were you going to ask me earlier today?”
“When?”
“You said something about Christmas, and then you saw it was snowing, and then all hell broke loose.”
Robin forced her eyes to open, and flopping her head to the side, she looked at Judy. “Hell did not break loose.”
“You screamed like a little girl.”
“You should hear me when I see a clown.”
Judy sprang to a sitting position. “Want me to go get him?”
“Don’t you dare!”
“Now who’s the party pooper?”
“It’s not enough you slammed me with a snowball. Now you’re threatening me with a clown?” Robin said, failing miserably at hiding her amusement at Judy’s impish expression.
“Oh, my God, are you still pouting over that?”
“I’m not pouting. You promised—”
“No, no, no,” Judy said, waggling her finger. “You promised not to throw one. I didn’t.”
“You do realize you could have hit me in the head. Undo everything that’s healed.”
“Oh, please,” Judy said, rolling her eyes. “It was the size of a kumquat. My aim was perfect, and you got your stitches out on Tuesday, so stop trying for the sympathy vote, because it’s not going to work.”
“I liked you better when you were my dutiful nursemaid.”
“Is that so?”
“No,” Robin said softly. “Actually, it’s not.”
For a moment, they held one another’s gaze until Robin reached for her wine glass. “So...about Christmas. Do you have any plans for the next few days?”
“Christmas is over a month away.”
“I know, but usually, people get four-day weekends with Thanksgiving, and I wasn’t sure if you had anything planned. Shopping or—”
“Oh, hell no,” Judy said, waving off the idea with a flick of her wrist. “I made the mistake of going shopping on Black Friday once, and I swore I’d never do it again. As far as I’m concerned, I’d rather face a zombie apocalypse.”
“Then you don’t have any plans?”
“No, I just thought we’d be working on the house. Why?”
“Because Adele has a shitload of totes in the basement all marked for Christmas, and I thought instead of working on the rooms, we could spend the weekend decorating. That is if you want to?”
“I couldn’t think of a better way to spend a long weekend,” Judy said, getting to her feet. “And now, I think I’m going to call it a night and head home.”
“Really?” Robin said, jumping off the sofa. “What about dessert?”
“That’s going to have to wait until tomorrow. If I eat anything else tonight, the tires on my bike are going to flatten,” Judy said, heading out of the room.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Judy turned, cocking her head to the side. “Excuse me?”
It took Robin a moment to replay the conversation in her head, and when she reached the end, her eyes flew open wide. “Oh crap, that’s not what I meant.”
“Of course, it wasn’t.”
Robin watched in horror as Judy set her wine glass on the counter and made her way toward the front of the house without so much as giving Robin a second glance.
“Judy, seriously, that’s not what I meant. You’re not in the least bit heavy,” Robin said, rushing to catch up. Unable to stop herself, she eyeballed the sway of Judy’s hips, the brief glimpse confirming what Robin already knew. “You’re perfect. I mean...I mean you’re totally proportionate to your height.” Robin hung her head. It wasn’t the stupidest thing she’d ever said, but it was close.
“Good to know,” Judy said, turning as she grabbed her parka from the coat tree.
“That’s not what I meant either.”
“You know what, Robin?” Judy said, zipping up her jacket. “I sure hope you write better than you speak because I have to tell you, right now I’m not all that impressed with your way with words.”
Judy held her breath, trying to contain what was build
ing inside of her for a little while longer, but the sight of Robin’s deer-in-the-headlights expression was too comical to ignore. Erupting in laughter, Judy barely got out the words. “Oh, my God. You should see your face.”
Robin’s mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?” she shouted, pointing toward her apartment. “I just did a walk of shame through this entire flipping house, and you were joking?”
“Yep,” Judy said, bobbing her head. “And I’m sorry, but I couldn’t resist.”
Faced with Judy’s devastating smile, Robin knew the feeling. All she wanted to do was pull Judy into her arms, hold her close and kiss her like there was no tomorrow, but she had to resist. Resist the urge. Resist the need. Resist the hunger, the passion, and the want. Robin swallowed hard as her body pulsed. Yes, to act on her feelings was impossible, but to resist them...was futile.
“You okay?” Judy said, tugging on her knit cap. “You look a thousand miles away.”
“What? No, I’m fine. I was just...um...thinking about you going out in this weather.”
“I’m used to it.”
“Maybe so, but now you have to pedal up Everest on a full stomach.”
“Well, it’s not like I have another choice,” Judy said, after pulling on her gloves and wrapping a scarf around her neck, she opened the front door.
Robin instantly hunched her shoulders at the burst of cold air, and snatching her jacket from the coat tree, she pulled it on and followed Judy outside. “Maybe you do.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“I have plenty of pajamas, and I’m sure I can dig up an extra toothbrush. Why don’t you just stay the night? It’s not like we don’t have plenty of bedrooms.”
Judy hesitated for a moment. “No, that’s all right. It’s tempting, but I’d have to go back in the morning to get changed anyway, and I’m already ready to go.” Judy walked her bike down the porch steps, turning to face Robin once she reached the bottom. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Robin. Good night.”
“All right. Good night,” Robin said, stuffing her hands into her jacket pockets. “But text me when you get home, so I know you’re safe.”
Judy flinched back her head. “Wait a minute. I thought you said you didn’t text.”
“I don’t, but that doesn’t mean I won’t read them.”
“I’ll have to remember that.”
***
“You did what!”
“Calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” Declan said, waving his hand in the air. “Six fucking days after the fact you’re telling me you almost killed yourself.”
“I didn’t almost kill myself. I just...I just fell down.”
“And busted open your head!”
“Well, nothing important leaked out, so that’s a plus,” Robin said, grinning.
“This is not funny, Robbie. Why the hell didn’t you call me when it happened?”
“When it happened, I wasn’t in any shape to call, and after that, I was afraid you’d try to come to my rescue, and I knew I wouldn’t have been able to stop you.”
“You’re right. You wouldn’t have.”
A few moments of silence passed between them until Robin heard her best friend sigh. “Declan, I’m fine. The stitches are out. The bruises are all but gone, and I had a fantastic Thanksgiving. Okay?”
Declan huffed into the phone. “I suppose,” he said, stroking his chin. “So...what did the lawyer say?”
“He said that with the holiday, he wasn’t expecting her probation officer to do anything until at least next week. It sounds like they have to review everything and make their own determination, but Howard assured me this is cut and dry. They have my affidavit, the copies of all the texts and emails she sent after the restraining order was in place, and the copies of my phone records to prove the dates and times, so he said they’ll have no choice but to put out a warrant for her arrest.”
“Good!” Declan barked. “That bitch belongs behind bars, and I’m not talking about the ones that serve booze.”
“But you need to do me a favor.”
“What’s that?”
“Watch out for yourself.”
“Oh, Robbie, I—”
“I’m not kidding, Declan. Pam was practically frothing at the mouth when she was up here, and she wasn’t even shit-faced while she was doing it.”
“She wasn’t high?”
“Yeah, maybe a little, but she wasn’t circling the earth. And I don’t trust her, Declan. Not after seeing her last week. She was a complete nut case.”
“And that has changed how?”
“I’m serious!” Robin said, jumping off her bed. “You have to promise me to keep your eyes open, and if she shows up, sober or drunk, you need to call the police. Don’t instigate. Don’t even open the fucking door. Just call the cops. Okay?”
Declan didn’t think he could hate Pamela Burton any more than he already did, but hearing Robin’s voice tremble, he set his jaw. She was scared. “All right, Robbie,” he said softly. “If I so much as get a whiff of her hairspray, I’ll call the cops. I promise.”
Robin sank onto the edge of her bed. “Thank you.”
“Any time,” Declan said, leaning back on his sofa. “So how did you explain—”
“Oh,” Robin said, hearing a click on the phone. “Hold on for just a second.”
Having no other choice than to do just that, Declan picked up his scotch and took a sip.
“Sorry about that.”
Declan set his drink aside. “Problem?”
“No, Judy just texted to say she made it home okay.”
Declan bolted upright. “Wait one goddamned minute! What do you mean she texted? If I can’t text, she can’t text!”
“You sound like a spoiled child,” Robin said with a laugh.
“No, I’m a spoiled adult who you told months ago to stop texting, and now I hear you’re texting with Judy? Oh...wait a minute,” Declan said, stroking a non-existent beard. “Are you texting or sexting? And if it’s the latter, please send me examples to prove it.”
“You’re such a weirdo. I’m not texting or sexting. I just asked her to let me know she made it home okay.”
“So I guess that means no examples—huh?’
“Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Like that’s ever going to happen.”
“Tell me about it.”
Declan grinned for a moment, and then it faded away. “You know, when you told me about what you did after Pam left I thought...I thought you had fallen down the rabbit hole again.”
“I did for a little while that night, but it’s dark and dismal there, Declan, and I don’t want dark and dismal anymore. Life’s too short to brood over things you can’t change.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Declan said, reaching for his glass. “So you never said how you explained Pam to Judy.”
“What do you mean?”
“A crazy woman comes into your house and threatens you with a broken bottle. That usually requires some sort of explanation.”
“I told her everything.”
Declan was in the midst of taking a sip of scotch when Robin’s words reached his ears. With his lips on the glass, he paused and eased into a smile. “What did you just say?”
“I said, I told her everything. From how I met Pam to...to what she did to me. All the threats, the fights, the arrest, my depression...everything.”
“Kiddo, trust hasn’t been your strong suit ever since Pam came into your life. That’s a big step.”
“I know it was, but it felt good, and once I started telling Judy about Pam, I couldn’t stop. I needed to let it all out. I needed to let her see inside of me. To see the hurt and the shame, the anger...the ugliness.”
“You don’t own an ounce of ugly.”
“Thanks, but you know what I mean.”
“I’m not sure I do.”
“It’s about secrets, Declan. It’s about things you think you need to hide because you�
��re afraid others aren’t going to understand, or they’re going to judge you, but when there are people in your life that you care about, you need to take that risk. You need to let your secrets out, because when you do you realize they aren’t as big and bad as they think they are and life becomes so much better...so, so much better. My mom always told me to tell the truth, and she was right. The truth really does set you free. I haven’t felt this good in a long time.”
“I always said your mom was a smart woman,” Declan said as he sat up. “So, how’d Judy take it?”
“She was a little shocked at some things, but all in all, she understood that—”
“I’m not talking about what went on with Pam. I’m talking about your crush. How’d Judy react?”
“Oh...yeah, well, I didn’t tell her about that.”
“But you just said—”
“Declan, there’s a big difference between admitting to someone you’re an idiot and confessing to them that you’re in love—” Robin snapped her mouth shut like a mouse trap, but the bait had already been snatched.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
Declan let out a hearty guffaw. “Oh, Robbie, it’s not nothing. I’ve been waiting for over twenty fucking years for you to finally admit that.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You have avoided that word since the day you first told me about Judy way back in college. You said you really liked her. Then, you said you were crushing on her, and somewhere along the line, I think you even added you had the hots for her, but you have dodged, evaded, and sidestepped the truth for years, which leads me back to a conversation we had when I was on Mackinac. How the hell are you going to keep doing this?”
“I just am,” Robin whispered. “I won’t risk losing her over this.”
“This isn’t exactly a small detail, Robbie. This is love, which in case you don’t know, is the most powerful emotion we have. Are you seriously telling me that you can accept her never knowing how you really feel or having the chance to...to act on what you feel?”
“Not everything is about sex, Declan.”
“I’m not talking about sex, Robbie. I’m talking about you being happy.”
