by Lyn Gardner
She intended to refill her glass and then relax in the living room, but when Robin walked out of the spare bedroom, she noticed a light coming down the hallway. Changing direction, she headed for the big kitchen.
Judy moved like a thief in the night, carefully sliding the cookbooks on the counter out of her way before opening and closing every cabinet and drawer. “Where the hell is it?” she muttered under her breath.
As soon as Judy came into view, Robin’s face lit up, but storm clouds rolled in seconds later when she noticed the backpack Judy hadn’t bothered to remove. Thinking for a moment, Robin took a deep breath and summoned a grin. “Hi there.”
Judy froze in place, bowing her head as the mere sound of Robin’s voice did to her body what it had been doing for weeks. She squeezed her eyes closed, waiting for the last tingle to pass before she took a slow, even breath and turned around. “Hi,” Judy said, her eyes finding the floor a split-second later.
“I didn’t know you were here.”
“Sorry. I...um...I didn’t want to bother you, and I don’t have a lot of time anyway.”
Robin glanced at her watch. She knew the ferry schedule, and the last one for the day was leaving in twenty minutes. “You catching the ferry?”
“Yeah. Um...Pat’s birthday.”
“So you decided to go then?”
“Sixty. It’s a milestone. I need to be there.”
“Gotcha,” Robin said, her eyes fixed on the woman who was intent on staring at the floor.
The hum of the refrigerator’s compressor was the only sound to be heard as one gazed and the other avoided eye contact at all cost.
Seconds that felt like hours ticked by until Judy took a deep breath and turned toward the counter again. “I...um...I just stopped by to get my phone. I swear I left it here. Have you seen it?” she said, opening and closing drawers and cabinets she had already checked. “I really don’t want to leave without it.”
Robin took her time in answering. She didn’t want to lie, but if she left the room would Judy be there when she got back? Robin sighed. “Yeah, I found it,” she said quietly. “Give me a minute. I’ll go get it.”
When Robin returned, she placed Judy’s phone on the island. “It started beeping last night. I was going to charge it for you, but we don’t have the same phones, so I shut it off. Sorry.”
“Not a problem. It’s old, and the battery’s been draining really fast,” Judy said, and grabbing her phone, she slipped it into her back pocket. “And I have a charger in the car.”
“That’s good,” Robin said, trying her best to mentally force Judy to look up. “So, when will you be back?”
Judy shook her head and moved to leave. “I don’t know.”
“Wait,” Robin said, and taking two quick steps, she blocked Judy’s path. “You are coming back, aren’t you?”
“Robin, I can’t...I can’t do this right now. I’m going to miss the ferry.”
“So miss it. There’s another tomorrow and more after that, but don’t...don’t run away. We need to talk.”
“No, we don’t,” Judy said, taking a step backward. “I should never...I should never have said what I said. Just forget it. Just forget everything.”
“I can’t do that.”
“You have to,” Judy said, looking up at the clock. “And I have to go.”
As soon as Judy took a step, Robin touched her on the arm, and when Judy pulled away as if she’d been burned, Robin’s face fell. “I’m sorry. I just want to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Robin. I made a mistake. Just leave it at that.”
“No, I won’t leave it at that, Judy.”
“Robin, please—”
“Would you like me to describe everything you had on that last day at Heritage? Because I can, right down to the signet ring you used to wear.”
Judy couldn’t help but look down at her hands. It had been a present from her mother, but the band had thinned over time, and Judy had put it away. She hadn’t thought about it in years, and she tilted her head. How odd Robin would have remembered something so small and insignificant. It should have gone unnoticed. It should have been forgotten with time. Judy flinched and taking a step backward, she bumped into the counter. The night before Judy had made up her mind, and she knew what she needed to do. She knew what she had to do, and she was prepared to do it, but absolutes can change in an instant. Up is up and down is down...until it isn’t.
Judy’s lungs emptied, and with it, she said the first word that came into her head. “Shit.”
Robin’s grin was automatic. “Not exactly the reaction I was going for.”
Even though Judy had heard what Robin had said, she didn’t say a word…because she was now under assault.
Conflict is derived from opposition. Battles are fought for land, for rights, and for freedom, and clashes turn into combat and morph into wars, but the discord between a heart and a mind can be the fiercest. Both work in harmony to breathe, to walk, and to talk, but when it comes to love, when it comes to yearning and passion, they can disconnect...and Judy’s had done just that.
Her mind raced, and her thoughts swarmed like bees in her head, the buzz in her ears getting louder and louder until all went suddenly quiet. The truth hadn’t changed. Robin’s confession had only added to Judy’s heartache, and for the first time, Judy looked Robin square in the eye. “It doesn’t matter what you were going for, it’s not going to happen.”
Robin froze as Judy moved past her, allowing Judy enough time to reach the dining room before Robin caught up and stopped her again. “Judy, what’s going on? It’s obvious we feel the same way about each other. You admitted it. I just admitted it. What’s the problem?”
Judy’s jaw tensed, her hands fisting as she forced out the words. “I’m sorry, Robin,” she said in a whisper. “I can’t do this.”
Robin’s eyes turned glassy as she watched Judy walk across the foyer. “No!” she shouted, and in three long strides, she caught up with Judy inches before she reached the door. “You need to explain. You need to tell me what this is all about. Damn it, Judy. I’m in love with you, and I think...no, I know you’re in love with me. I can see it. I can feel it, and I’m not going to let you walk out this freaking door until you tell me the truth.”
“Robin, I’m too old—”
“Don’t give me that crap. Age is just a number, and it’s got nothing to do with this. You’re just using it as an excuse, but I don’t want excuses, Judy. I want the truth. I’m begging you. Please don’t walk out that door like you walked out of that classroom. Please...please just tell me the truth.”
As her eyes misted over with tears, Judy took a stuttered breath, and then she took another. “The truth is...the truth is the price is too high.”
“What price? What price is too high? I don’t understand.”
“It’s about choices, Robin,” Judy whispered. “Just like back in school, I had to make a choice. You were eighteen. You were off limits. You were...are something I can’t have, because if I do, if I choose you, if I choose this life, I lose my family.”
All the air was knocked from Robin’s body, and as she struggled to replace it, the fog lifted. “This is about what you said when we argued, isn’t it? That family you were describing...that family was yours. Wasn’t it?”
Judy brushed away the tears staining her cheeks. “Yes.”
“And you agree with them?”
“Of course not,” Judy said with a sigh. “But this isn’t about agreeing with anyone. It’s about things that are familiar. It’s about family. It’s about—”
“Duty?”
“No. It’s not about duty. It’s about deceit because whether you want to accept it or not, age does have something to do with this, Robin. I’m not saying it would have been easier if I had found the courage when I was eighteen or twenty or even twenty-eight, but I’m fifty-five now, and I’ve had fifty-five years of having a family. I’ve had fifty-five years of belonging. I
’ve had fifty-five years of someplace I could always call home. And even if my brothers have softened over the years, even if they aren’t as homophobic as they used to be, which I seriously doubt, once they find out that I’ve been lying to them for over forty years, they’re going to tell me to get the hell out and never come back.”
“But what about being happy, Judy? What about being loved and wanted, and living the truth instead of the lie? Doesn’t any of that matter?”
“At this stage in my life, what’s the point?” Judy said as she turned to leave.
Robin took another step closer. “Please don’t walk out that door. Please don’t walk out on us.”
Judy bowed her head. Her heart was breaking and in the fissure was a love so strong her legs had grown weak. She knew she couldn’t turn around. She couldn’t look at Robin for the last time in her life and see nothing but pain. She wanted to remember her smiling, the blue of her eyes sparkling like pale sapphires refracting every ray of sunshine pouring from the heavens. She wanted to remember her mouth, tempting and sensuous, its arch conveying joy that took Judy’s breath away, and she wanted to remember Robin’s laughter, gleeful and sometimes childlike, holding in its melody something Judy could live off for days.
Judy put her hand on the doorknob. “There is no us, Robin. I’m sorry, but I have to—” Judy’s shoulders sagged, and closing her eyes, she bowed her head until her forehead was touching the door.
Robin allowed herself a quick grin when the distant sound of a ferryboat horn found its way to her ears. “Sounds like you missed the ferry. Guess that means we have more time to talk.”
“I don’t want to talk anymore.”
“Then stay the night,” Robin said, her voice soft and breathy. “Give me the night, Judy. Give us the night. There’s no tomorrow, no family, no prejudice or judgments. There’s just tonight. Just you. Just me. Just us.”
Judy shook her head. “Sex isn’t going to change anything, Robin.”
“I’m not talking about having sex, Judy. I’m talking about making love. I'm talking about giving in to what we both feel, what we both want, what we've both dreamed about for so very long. I’m not stupid. I know your mind is made up, and I know tomorrow you’re going to break my heart. I know I can’t live in closets, and I know you’d never ask me to, so this is it.” Robin paused, wiping the tears from her face. “Tonight is all we have, Judy, so let’s stop the world from turning for just one night. No apologies. No regrets. No tomorrow. Just tonight.”
The ice had grown thin, and Judy knew if she fell through she’d be swept away in an instant. A glorious instant that would bring pleasure for a night, but when the sun appeared over the horizon, the memory would bring a lifetime of pain, and Judy was tired of hurting. She was tired of thinking, tired of being pummeled by emotions and responsibilities. Judy had made her choice, but as she placed her hand on the doorknob again, a chill ran down her spine. She hesitated, her eyes widening as she watched the latch for the deadbolt turn on its own, sliding into the keeper on the jamb with an audible click.
Judy froze, trying to wrap her head around Isobel’s intrusion, and as she did, a current of cold air washed over her. A moment later, she felt the warmth of Robin’s breath...on the back of her neck.
Chapter Forty-One
Attraction. Although not a branch of physics, the rules of attraction are much like those of electromagnetism. A physical interaction that happens between particles that are electrically charged, some objects are drawn toward one another, their need undeniable, their attraction...molecular.
The world stopped turning, and a mind fraught with thoughts emptied as a heart only ever belonging to one began to pound. The scent of Robin’s cologne and the heat of nearness had broken the ice, and as Robin’s breath washed over her neck, the surge of awareness rushing through Judy’s body took her breath away.
In the throw of a latch, Robin’s expectations were altered, and she moved to within inches of Judy in an instant. Her heart began to race, but with anticipation came apprehension. If she moved too fast, would Judy run? Robin pushed away her fear. She had no intention of moving too fast.
Robin slipped her hand under Judy’s chin, her body pulsing at the mere connection of skin against skin. No effort was needed to turn Judy toward her, and Robin looked into her eyes. There was no longer a need to be covert, a need to hide the hunger, the ardor, or the desire, and when Robin saw the same gazing back at her, the air rushed from her lungs. She slowly lowered her mouth to meet Judy’s, and as Robin’s eyes fluttered closed, her dream became her truth.
By definition, dreams rarely contain certainty. A state of mind whereby the holder is released from reality, the situations conjured are often abstract and skewed based on the emotion. Hate generates an early demise. Revenge creates ingenious plots, and lust fabricates eroticism normally paling to the truth, but as far as Judy was concerned, there was nothing pale about their first kiss.
The brush of Robin’s lips against hers sent a shock wave through Judy’s body. Although the kiss was tentative and light, the feathery hint held in its brevity sensations unmatched in Judy’s life. Every nerve awoke, every sense heightened, and instincts forever denied...could no longer be.
The kiss ended, and Judy opened her eyes, lifting her chin ever so slightly. It was a silent invitation for more, and Robin did not disappoint. Lips, supple and warm, found their way back to Judy, and while the kisses that followed were still brief, lasting only seconds, Judy cherished every one of them.
There are no guarantees in life, but when Robin kissed Judy for the first time, she knew it was the last first kiss she would ever have. There could never be another, and in that instant, she finally understood the love Adele had for her mother, and Isobel had for Julia. All-consuming and unwavering, Robin’s love for Judy was unconditional, and as she turned her head this way and that, returning Judy’s kisses with those of her own, Robin cherished her last second kiss, her last third, and her last fourth.
Passion brings with it many things. Hearts begin to race. Pulses start to quicken. Breathing becomes labored, and temperatures rise. Gasping for air, Judy pulled out of Robin’s arms.
“What?” Robin said in a breath, her eyes widening as she glanced at the latch on the door.
“Hot,” Judy said, her mouth falling open as she pulled in more air. “I’m hot.”
Robin smiled. Judy had to be wearing at least three layers of clothing to protect her from the chilly autumn on Mackinac, so while the woman shrugged out of her backpack, Robin scrambled for the tab of the zipper on Judy’s parka. A second later, Robin blurted, “It’s stuck.”
Judy burst out in giggles, her sex drive momentarily taking a back seat while Robin pulled, tugged, and cursed at the fastener. “Here, let me do it,” Judy said, reaching for the zipper. “Unless you want to spend the entire night in the foyer?”
Robin popped up like a jack-in-the-box. Taking a step back, she held up her hands. “Not on your life.”
“Yeah, I thought not,” Judy said, and continuing to chuckle, she yanked the zipper up and then down. A moment later, Judy’s jacket fell to the floor. The comical intermission could have easily broken the mood, but the woman Judy wanted to remember was now standing in front of her. There was the smile she never wanted to forget. There were the eyes, vivid and lustrous, and there was the beauty that would forever take her breath away. “Now,” Judy whispered. “Where were we?”
Robin groaned. Other than placing her fingers on Judy’s face when they kissed, Robin hadn’t dared to allow her hands to stray. There had been a modicum of fear restraining her, concern about a lock that could easily be unlocked, yet it only took three little words to set Robin free. In one quick step, she pulled Judy into her arms. Again, the kiss was gentle, and again, the kiss was slow for when there’s no tomorrow, memories have to be savored, and when Robin felt Judy’s hands on her hips, pulling her even closer, Robin’s body pulsed.
Judy moved her mouth over Robin’s, answ
ering in kind with whisper-light kisses until the urge for something else became too intense. Judy wanted more than whispers, more than gentle, and more than chaste, and when Robin lowered her mouth again, Judy ran the tip of her tongue across Robin’s lips. The result took Judy’s breath away. The ache of her arousal was like nothing she had ever experienced, and desire oozed from her core, soaking through her underwear and darkening the denim of her jeans.
Robin fisted the fabric of Judy’s sweater. A hint of a tongue warm and wet had set her body on fire, and there was no putting out the blaze. She covered Judy’s mouth in a kiss, hungry and deep, exploring every recess of Judy’s mouth with her tongue. Her flavor was a blend of coffee, mint, and something entirely Judy’s and Robin drank in the cocktail. Thirsty for the sweetness, Robin reclaimed Judy’s mouth again and again, and when Judy’s tongue began to dance with hers, Robin’s knees almost buckled.
Judy was lost in a whirlpool of carnal need. She couldn’t help but taste Robin as she, herself, was being tasted. She couldn’t help but plunge her tongue into a mouth welcoming every stroke, losing herself to an essence intrinsic to Robin.
Invitation after voracious invitation was given and accepted, until fighting for oxygen, they both came up for air. Robin rested her forehead against Judy's, and both fought to regain control of their breathing as a few minutes went by unnoticed.
Robin lifted her head, licking her lips to replace moisture drained by an appetite shared. “Can we...can we take this somewhere else?”
“Yes,” Judy said in a breath before sucking in another. “Yes, please. Yes.”
Robin intertwined her fingers through Judy’s. Slowly and silently she guided her through the house to her bedroom, and it wasn’t until they stepped inside when Judy’s grip tightened.
“What?” Robin whispered.
Judy motioned toward the many candles flickering atop the bureau, dresser, and nightstands. “Hedging a bet?”
