by Lyn Gardner
“I am happy. Why can’t you see that?”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I won’t. I can’t,” Robin said, jumping to her feet again. “Declan, Mackinac has been like a good luck charm for me and—”
“Oh, so you think with a little luck you’ll get her between the sheets?”
“Jesus! Get your mind out of the girl-on-girl porn movie!” Robin shouted. “Can you just let me finish instead of jumping to horizontal conclusions?”
“Sorry. Sure. Go ahead.”
“Declan, think about it. Ever since I got here, my life has turned around. I’m writing again and running again. The nightmares have all but stopped, and I wake up looking forward to every flipping day. Yeah, I screwed up a little when Pam showed up, but I bounced back. And yeah, I’ve fallen in love with Judy, but so what? So what? She’s already told me she has no plans to ever move off the island, and since neither do I, I can look forward to a life with her in it. I love it here, Declan, and all I see in my future is lots of time to be with her, so what’s the harm in keeping my feelings to myself and preserving a friendship that means as much to me as the one I have with you?”
“I can’t tell you if there’s harm or not, Robbie, but a few minutes ago you said how great you felt after unloading all the bullshit about Pam. And you also said how your mother always told you to tell the truth, but now you’re doing just the opposite.”
“Then call me a hypocrite,” Robin said, sinking down on the edge of the bed.
“Okay. You’re a hypocrite.”
“Fine, I’m a hypocrite, but I’m a happy one. I get to see her every day, Declan. I get to work alongside her, to joke with her, to laugh with her, to cook meals with her, and today we even went for a walk in the snow together.”
“The snow?” Declan said, glancing down at his bare feet and shorts.
“Yeah, it snowed today.”
“You’ve got to be shitting me. It’s like ninety degrees down here.”
“Well, not here, and tomorrow we’re going to start decorating for Christmas.”
Declan dropped his chin to his chest. “Oh, Christ.”
“Stop.”
“I totally forgot about you and Christmas. Suddenly, I’m elated you moved away.”
“That’s not nice.”
“It may not be nice, but knowing I’m not going to spend endless hours turning your home into Rockefeller Center sure as hell puts a smile on my face.”
“I’ll have you know, Judy says she loves to decorate for Christmas as much as I do.”
Declan snickered before taking a sip of his drink. “No one loves to decorate as much as you do, Robin. No one.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Robin stood in the front yard looking back at the house. “So, where do you want to start?”
“Probably the roof,” Judy said, shading her eyes from the sun. “Start there and work our way down.”
“Oh.”
“Problem?”
“Um...two, actually. First, we don’t have a ladder in the basement tall enough to reach even the porch roof, and second, I’m not a big fan of heights.”
“How much not a fan?”
Robin sighed. “Right up there with clowns.”
“Then I guess I’ll be doing it.”
“No, you won’t. I’m not going to have you climbing all over the roof.”
“Why not?”
“Because...because it’s dangerous.”
“Only if I fall,” Judy said with a laugh.
“And that’s exactly why we won’t be decorating the roof.”
“Robin, I’m not afraid of heights. I can do this. Trust me.”
“Well, since we don’t have a ladder long enough, it doesn’t matter if I trust you or not,” Robin said, folding her arms. “It’s not going to happen.”
Judy placed her hands on her hips. “So, you’re saying you don’t trust me?”
“No, I’m not saying that at all.”
“Good!” Judy said, and giving Robin a wink, she headed to the side yard. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
Robin caught up with Judy just as she was opening the doors leading to the underside of the screened-in porch, an area Robin had yet to investigate. “What are you doing?” she said, stepping back as the plywood panels swung wide.
“Getting something I’m going to need,” Judy said, and reaching into the storage area, she began pulling out an extension ladder. “See.”
“Shit,” Robin said, squatting down to peer into the dark, earthy grotto. “I didn’t know that was in there.”
“I know,” Judy said, smiling over at Robin. “But I did.”
***
By Saturday afternoon, the outside of Safe Harbor was decorated, and Robin’s delight showed on her face. Not only was Declan wrong, but Robin had met her match in Judy.
After admitting her fear of heights was stronger than her fear of clowns, while Robin looked through windows or stared up from the ground, Judy pranced around the roof with the confidence of a tight-rope walker. Wearing an irrepressible grin, courtesy of Robin’s continual pleas to be careful, without slipping an inch, Judy clipped lights along the edge of every roofline she could reach without causing Robin to have a cardiac episode.
Lights intertwined with green garland were draped on the fence, and the railings and columns on the porch soon followed suit. Small plastic wreaths were hung on the windows, and a doormat proclaiming Merry Christmas was placed outside the door, and when they finally headed inside, both Robin and Judy were anxious for the day to become night.
More totes were brought up from the basement along with two long boxes containing artificial Christmas trees. It had taken all the strength the two women had to get the trees up the steps, and judging by the size of the boxes, they carried the largest to the parlor while the smallest was placed in Robin’s living room.
The rest of their decorating efforts were put on hold for the remainder of the afternoon to turn what was left of their Thanksgiving turkey into soup. Robin stripped the carcass while Judy chopped up carrots and celery, and after the addition of a sachet of garlic, sage, thyme, and rosemary was added, they cleaned up what remained of the casseroles until all that was left of their holiday meal simmered on the stove.
After placing the last Pyrex dish into a cabinet, Robin turned to see Judy smiling back at her. “What?”
“You sure do get into your work. I’ll give you that,” Judy said, gesturing with her head at the splotches of water, suds, and probably even a few bits of errant turkey covering Robin’s sweatshirt.
Robin looked down and frowned. “Crap.”
“I told you to wear an apron,” Judy said as she removed the one she’d put on.
“Yeah, well, you should have insisted,” Robin said, holding her sweatshirt a little away from her body. “I’m a mess.”
“Then go get cleaned up, and I’ll find something to get into.”
“You’re not planning to start decorating again, are you?”
“No, I thought maybe I’d just go relax. Take a load off? Chill...or whatever they say nowadays.”
“All right. Be back in a few.”
“Take your time. Oh, hey, do you mind if I check out some of Adele’s research on this place? I really like that kind of stuff.”
“Of course not. Mi casa es su casa. You know that.”
“Wait. You speak Spanish?”
“Just enough to order a beer and tell someone my house is their house.” Robin reached her bedroom door and turned back around. “And speaking of drinks, I put a bottle of Gewurztraminer in the fridge if you’re thirsty.”
“Okay,” Judy said with a laugh. “That’s definitely not Spanish.”
Robin grinned. “Nope, it’s German, and before you ask, I don’t speak German either. I do, however, know a good white wine when I taste one. I thought it would go better with the soup. Feel free to give it a try.”
“I just may do that.”
When Robin emerged from her bedroom twenty minutes later, she was wearing a pair of gray, relaxed-fit drawstring pants and a bow-neck sweatshirt to match. On her feet was her favorite pair of fleece-lined moccasins, and instead of any clip or band, her hair, damp and smelling of coconut shampoo, hung straight down her back.
Pleased to see the open bottle of wine on the counter, Robin filled the goblet standing next to it, put the bottle back in the fridge, and then headed into the living room.
“You look comfortable,” Judy said as Robin walked into the room.
“So do you,” Robin said, pointing at Judy’s socked feet propped up on the coffee table. “Tired?”
“A little.”
“You decorated out?”
“That’ll be the day,” Judy said before holding up her glass of wine. “And this is delicious.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Robin said, and slumping on the sofa, she pointed to a few of Adele’s notebooks now sitting on the coffee table. “Did you find anything interesting?”
“Maybe,” Judy said, looking back and forth between two papers in front of her. “These are copies of the newspaper articles about Isobel’s death.”
“Okay?”
“The one from the St. Ignace News is pretty basic, but the other one from the St. Ignace Democrat makes mention of another drowning the year before.”
“Another one?”
“Yes.” Judy put down her wine, and as she handed Robin the photocopy, she pointed to a paragraph. “It doesn’t say who, but even Adele thought it odd. See her question mark in red?”
Robin looked at the photo and then pointed to the notebooks on the table. “Is there anything in those about it?”
“I don’t know, but I think that’ll have to wait for another day,” Judy said, and placing the papers aside, she picked up her glass just as Robin began to rest her feet on the coffee table. “I wouldn’t get too comfortable if I were you.”
“Why not?”
“The sun’s gone down.”
A second later, Robin popped off the couch like a piece of bread from a toaster. Running to the bay window, she raised one of the Roman shades. “It’s dark!”
The wine in Judy’s glass splashed against the sides of the crystal as she burst out laughing. “You are so funny.”
“I have to go get some shoes. Meet you up front.”
Judy didn’t have time to put her wine on the table before Robin was darting out of the room, and tittering to herself, Judy pulled on her sneakers and headed to the front of the house. Less than a minute had passed before she saw Robin racing toward her. “You’re nothing but a big kid.”
“Aren’t you excited about seeing the lights?” Robin said, tugging on her coat, hat, and gloves seemingly all at once.
Time stopped. Blue eyes blended with blue eyes, each holding joy, excitement, and humor. Standing within inches of one another, their colognes blended as well, and then time started again. Without saying a word, they went outside.
At the end of the walk, they turned in unison and looked up at the house, its shape lost against the backdrop of the blue-black sky. The steam of their breath swirled in the air, the breeze bringing with it the faintest scent of logs burning in a distant hearth.
Robin held out the remote controlling the power block on the front porch. “You ready?”
“Do it.”
They each held their breath as Robin pushed the button, and a second later, thousands of tiny bright lights reflected in their eyes...and in their smiles.
***
“I have a strange sense of déjà vu washing over me.”
Judy waited for Robin to respond, but when she didn’t, Judy opened her eyes and sat up from her comfortable corner of the sofa. She glanced over at Robin, instantly grinning when she realized the woman had fallen asleep, and as Judy listened, her eyes began to twinkle. It wasn’t uproarious, and no wood was being sawn, but Robin was snoring ever so slightly.
Their dinner had been simple, but delicious, and while Judy couldn’t disagree with Robin’s findings about turkey and its inability to make one sleepy, after the table was cleared and the dishes were done, it was all they could do to drag themselves to the sofa. They sipped their wine in relative silence, their enjoyment showing on their faces for all that had been accomplished over the past two days and somewhere along the line, they closed their eyes.
As quietly as she could, Judy picked up her glass, and after draining it in half a swallow, she left to empty her bladder. Five minutes later, she was standing over Robin, debating on whether to wake her or not. Judy glanced at her watch, and letting out a sigh, she leaned down and placed her hand on Robin’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m going to be heading home. It’s getting late.”
Robin softly sighed, pleased that her dreams had finally caught up with time. Judy appeared as she did now. There were streaks of gray in her hair, and tiny lines etched at the corners of her eyes, but of all the dreams, this was by far the most realistic. Robin could feel Judy’s breath on her face and smell the hint of bergamot in her cologne. Robin forced her eyes to open just a little and seeing Judy bending over her, Robin’s body pulsed. The rush of awareness caused her skin to tingle, and as she always did in dreams, Robin moved in close for a kiss that would be probing and wet, until she heard Judy’s gasp. Robin’s eyes flew open just in time to see Judy draw back. Oh. Shit.
A few awkward seconds of silence passed between them before Judy said, “Um...I...uh...I just wanted to let you know I was heading out. I’ll...uh...I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Sorry, I fell asleep on you.”
“Don’t worry about it. At least you got a good dream out of it.”
Robin could feel her cheeks begin to heat. “Did I? I-I don’t...I don’t remember any dream.”
Judy shrugged. “Well, it was just a guess.” Judy held up her hand when Robin began to stand. “No, don’t worry about it. I know my way out. I’ll see you tomorrow, Robin. Good night.”
Robin watched as Judy turned around and left the apartment. “Fuck!” Robin groaned, and throwing herself against the back of the sofa, she covered her face with her hands. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!”
***
“Good morning.”
Robin jumped as she came out of the living room. The moment she’d been dreading since the night before was finally upon her, and it took all the strength she had to look in Judy’s direction. Careful to avoid eye contact, Robin continued toward the dining room. “Oh. Hey. Um…good morning. I got your text. You know, you could have taken the day off if you needed one.”
“No, like I said, I had some things to catch up on, but I wanted to give you a heads-up, so you weren’t wondering where I was.”
“Oh. Right,” Robin said quietly, her eyes darting back and forth between Judy and the patio doors. “Um…well…uh…coffee’s on.”
“Thanks,” Judy said, making a beeline for the coffee pot. “So what are you doing?” Hearing the patio door in the dining room open and then close, Judy turned around and found she was talking to herself. “Okay?” Judy mumbled under her breath, and leaning against the counter, she sipped her coffee and waited for Robin to return.
A few minutes passed before Judy heard the slider open again and taking a step closer to the dining room, she saw Robin coming back inside carrying an armful of logs. “What’s all that?”
“Firewood,” Robin muttered as she headed into the living room.
“Yeah, I got that part, silly,” Judy called out. “But where’d it come from?”
For the first time in hours, Robin dared to smile. There wasn’t a hint of anything other than friendship in Judy’s tone. There was no anger. There was no animosity. There was only Judy being Judy. Letting out a long breath, Robin moved her anxiety to the back burner, deciding to let the day play out. If apologies were needed, they would be made, but for right now, life was good.
“I saw an ad in the paper a few weeks back,” Robin shou
ted as she stuffed more logs in the two copper buckets near the hearth. “Mr. Booth up on Pine Avenue had firewood for sale, so I bought some. He called just after you left last night. His sons came into town for the holiday, but they’re leaving today, so he asked if they could bring it down this morning since he had help.”
“How much did you get?”
Robin jumped to her feet and returned to the dining room. “A couple of cords. Why?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Judy said, shrugging. “For whatever reason, a vision of overfilled freezers came into my head.”
Judy’s eyes glittered with gaiety, and Robin inwardly sighed. Now more than ever before, Robin was convinced her heart was merely a puddle of goo in her chest, melted time and time again by the woman standing in front of her.
“The freezers aren’t overfilled, or they wouldn’t close. So there,” Robin said, sticking out her tongue.
Judy laughed. “You are such a child.”
Robin grinned as she headed for the patio door. “Well, this child has more logs to bring in and a few to rearrange.”
“You want some help?”
Robin looked down at her damp, dirt and sap-stained jeans. “Did you bring a change of clothes?”
Judy’s shoulders sagged. “No, I keep forgetting to do that.”
“Then I think you should leave the dirty work to me.”
“Okay.” Judy glanced around the apartment. “Then how about I start assembling the trees? It’ll give me something to do.”
“Cool. That works for me,” Robin said, stepping outside. “I’ll see you in a little while.”
***
“I think you’re addicted to this.”
“Oh yeah?” Judy said, putting aside the instructions. “Why’s that?”
Robin went over to the tree and started fanning out some branches. “Because in the time it took me to finish with the firewood and change my clothes, a ten-foot Fraser Fir has sprouted in our parlor, and now you’re back here, working on this one.”
“Well, just to let you know. If it were an addiction, I’d be doing it every day,” Judy said, poking another branch into a hole.
