Choices

by Lyn Gardner

  “Shit,” Robin said, bolting upright on the love seat.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Robin said, standing up. “Be right back.”

  Judy relaxed into the cushions and looking at the flames dancing in the hearth, she drew a slow breath. Her life had changed dramatically in only a few short weeks, but there had never been a moment of hesitation or a flicker of awkwardness. It was as if they had lived a previous life together and now, reincarnated, they were together again. From walking hand-in-hand on a beach under a moonlit sky to moving in with Robin the day after they returned from Florida, no effort was needed to blend their lives. No effort at all. Smiling, Judy ran her hand down her thigh and a moment later, she winced.

  “Did you just pinch yourself?” Robin said as she came into the room.

  “Yes,” Judy said with a laugh.

  “I didn’t know you were into self-harm.”

  “I’m not,” Judy said as Robin sat down next to her. “But does it ever feel like a dream to you? Like you’re going to wake up and all of this...all of this is just going to be in your head?”

  “More than once,” Robin said, folding her leg under her as she faced Judy. “And there have been a couple of times when I’ve woken up, and you’re not near, and I’m afraid to open my eyes, afraid to find out you’re gone again or...or like you said, you were never there. But then I hear you breathing, and I wrap myself around you, and all is right with the world again.”

  “I’ll never leave you again, Robin,” Judy whispered, sealing the deal with a velvety kiss. “You’re stuck with me now.”

  A grin overtook Robin’s features. “Good, then I guess I’ll still give you this.” Robin placed a black, velvet ring box in Judy’s hands. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  Robin watched as Judy’s expression went from blank to bright, her eyes darting back and forth between the ring box in her hand and Robin. In an instant, Robin understood every blonde joke she had ever heard. “No!” she blurted, placing her hand over the box as more words poured from her mouth. “No, no, no, no, Judy. Oh, gosh…that is so not what you think.”

  Judy’s face fell. “It isn’t?”

  “Yeah, no,” Robin said, her cheeks now flaming. “And that would bring a whole new meaning to U-Haul jokes.”

  “It would, would it?”

  Robin’s shoulders sagged past her hips. “Great. You don’t know lipstick or chapstick, but you understand U-Haul?”

  “I’ve heard the joke before,” Judy said, placing the box on the ottoman. “And you think we’re moving too fast.”

  “No. I don’t think we’re moving too fast at all,” Robin said, grabbing the ring box and returning it to Judy’s hand. “But when I propose, and I will propose, it’s not going to be on a holiday or...or a birthday. It’s going to be on a day when there’s nothing else to celebrate except for that day. Okay?”

  “Are you sure?”

  “That I’m going to propose?”

  “No, that you don’t think—”

  “We are not moving too fast, Judy. We have loved each other for over twenty-five years, and I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t exactly label that lickety-split.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Judy said, her smile brighter than all the lights on the tree.

  “You know I am. Now open the box. It wasn’t supposed to be for today anyway, but between finishing the Christmas decorations and shopping, and well...”

  “Sex?”

  Robin beamed. “Yes, that definitely came into play, so I totally forgot about it until we were talking about the engagements.”

  Taking a quick breath, Judy opened the box and her eyes misted over with tears.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Robin said, moving a little closer. “When we were moving you in, I knocked over your jewelry box, and that fell out. I saw how thin the band was, so I had it repaired.”

  “My mother gave me this on my sixteenth birthday,” Judy said, gently extracting her signet ring from the velvet. She slipped it onto her right ring finger and gazed at the gold, now polished to a high sheen. The faint scratches from years of wear had been removed and the calligraphic J once lost amidst them had returned to prominence.

  “Thank you,” Judy whispered, and sliding her hand behind Robin’s neck, she pulled her into a kiss. It started out light and tender like a summer breeze, but it didn’t take long before it became hungry and wet.

  “We have sex on the brain,” Judy said as their lips parted.

  “Yes, we do,” Robin said as she slipped her hands under Judy’s sweater. “And we’re about to have it on the love seat.”

  Judy was inclined to agree, but as she moved to kiss Robin again, she noticed something in the corner. “Crap. We forgot something.”

  “We don’t need protection,” Robin said as she began to kiss Judy’s neck.

  Judy couldn’t prevent a gurgle of mirth from escaping as she stopped Robin’s advances. Pointing over Robin’s shoulder, Judy said, “We forgot about what we locked up in the window seat last week.”

  Robin didn’t need to look behind her and resting her forehead on Judy’s shoulder, she sighed. “Okay. Let me go get the key. You get the stuff out of the bedroom.”

  “All right.”

  A couple of minutes later, Robin returned to find Judy removing the pillows covering the seat of the bay window. “Do you think she knows?” Robin said, unlocking the latch.

  “I don’t how she could. We had it covered when we brought it into the house, and the table wouldn’t give her any hints.”

  “What about the—”

  “It was all the way in the back of the closet, and as much time as we’ve been spending in the bedroom, I can’t remember once when I felt a chill.”

  “Kudos to me!”

  “I’m talking about Isobel, silly,” Judy said, moving toward the fireplace. “Can you handle that one while I move this one?”

  “Yep. Almost done.”

  It didn’t take long before the two women had rearranged the living room, removing the old easel and replacing it with another almost twice the size. Instead of plastic, the new one had mahogany framework and accents in brass, and with the addition of a tiny, long-legged accent table just large enough to hold a cup of charcoal pencils and one filled with colors, Isobel’s studio was almost complete. Judy placed the drawing pad they had kept hidden in their closet onto the rail, and returning to the love seat, they plopped down on the cushions. In unison, they propped their feet on the ottoman before Robin picked up their wine glasses and handed one to Judy.

  “This has been a good day,” Judy said before taking a sip.

  “Yes, it has,” Robin said, draping her arm around Judy’s shoulders. “So, I have a question, and I want your honest answer.”

  “That’s all you’re ever going to get from me, sweetheart,” Judy said, giving Robin a peck on the cheek. “So ask.”

  “Are you worried at all about when everyone comes back to the island in the spring?”

  “You mean about us?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No. Not at all.”

  “Really?”

  Judy turned slightly and looked Robin in the eye. “The people I call my friends wouldn’t be my friends if they were like Pat. I’m sure they’ll be a little surprised, but as for being worried about them being hateful, I can’t see that happening.”

  “I hope not.”

  “Well, when Woody helped us bring all my stuff down here, he didn’t seem to have a problem with it.”

  “That’s true.”

  “And Glen didn’t either.”

  “Glen? As in the dockmaster? How would he know about us?”

  “You kissed me on the dock right in front of him when we got back from our last Christmas shopping excursion.”

  Robin flopped her head back and stared at the ceiling. “Crap, I didn’t even think about it.”

  “I know, and I loved that you didn’t,” Judy said, grinning. �
��And since his reaction was to give me a wink when we walked by, I’m thinking he doesn’t care.”

  “Why am I just hearing about this now?” Robin said, rolling her head to the side.

  “I don’t know. I guess, like I said, I just know my friends.”

  “Yes, it seems that you do.”

  “But Rose and Tommy will probably be all bent out of shape. I can almost guarantee it.”

  “Remind me again. Which ones are they?”

  “Tweedledee and Tweedledum.”

  “Oh,” Robin said, sitting up. “Well, by the looks of them, they can’t bend very far.”

  Judy burst out laughing as she slapped Robin on the leg. “That’s not very nice.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It was funny,” Judy said, picking up her empty glass. “I think I’m done with wine. You want some coffee?”

  “Yeah, that works,” Robin said as she handed Judy her glass. “And while you’re doing that, I’ll put another log on the fire.”

  “Okay. Be careful.”

  “Always.”

  Robin got up and opened the screen on the fireplace, taking a few minutes to rearrange what remained of the burning logs before placing another on the stack. Returning to the sofa, she propped her feet on the ottoman and watched as the fire slowly began to consume the fresh timber.

  “Hey, speaking of my friends. I may have one who’s going to need a job once the season starts,” Judy called from the kitchen.

  “Oh yeah?” Robin said, looking toward the kitchen. “Who?”

  “Have you ever met Zayne Johnson? Young guy. Dock porter.”

  Robin paused and then smiled. “Yeah, he was the one who brought over my luggage when I first came to the island,” she called back. “Why would he need a job? He looked pretty happy doing what he was doing.”

  “That was before his bungeecide a few weeks ago.”

  “His what?”

  Judy walked in carrying two steaming mugs of coffee, and when she saw Robin’s bewildered expression, she grinned. “Sorry. You probably don’t know what that means.”

  “Haven’t a clue,” Robin said, taking the mug Judy was offering her.

  “It’s a funny term for a not-so-funny accident,” Judy said as she sat down. “It’s what the porters call it when one of the bungees break, and it gets caught in the spokes of the bike tire.”

  Robin’s eyes flew open. “God, that sounds awful.”

  “It is, and Zayne went down hard. Broke his collarbone and snapped his arm in four places. His mom told me they put in a bunch of screws to get everything back together, and since this is the second time Zayne’s broken that same arm, the doctor suggested he find a new job or risk permanent damage if he does it again.”

  “Shit. That sucks.”

  “Yes, it does, but it gives us an awesome opportunity to help out a great kid and ourselves in the process,” Judy said, and after taking a hesitant sip of coffee, she put the mug aside. “Zayne’s an islander, and since he knows the island like the back of his hand, if he came to work for us, we’d not only get someone to haul luggage or clean rooms or…or build a website, but we’d also get someone who could offer our guests insight on what to do or where to go.”

  “I thought you were doing the website.”

  “I am, or I can, but Zayne’s always been a geek when it comes to computers, so I thought…um…well, I thought a younger mind, more up on today’s technology, could build us a better one.” When Judy saw Robin instantly scowl, she snickered. “Before you say it, I know I’m not old, but we have a lot of things to do around here before we are officially open, and I don’t know about you,” Judy said, placing her hand on Robin’s thigh. “But I don’t want to spend all my time all alone in the office learning new technology when I could be with you…doing other things.”

  A low chuckle rose in Robin’s throat. Judy had purred the last few words, making her intention perfectly clear. “Sold,” Robin said, placing her mug on the floor next to the loveseat.

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you honestly think I was going to say no?”

  Judy gave Robin a quick kiss and then moved a little closer. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” Robin said, once again draping her arm over Judy’s shoulders.

  The room smelled of pine candles and the fire in the hearth, and with Christmas music softly playing on their newly purchased sound system, and Judy nestled against her, Robin closed her eyes for a moment. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she opened her eyes. Smiling to herself, she pinched her leg.

  “I see I’m not the only one into self-harm.”

  Robin kissed Judy on the top of the head. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

  “Too late,” Judy said, turning to rest her head on Robin’s chest. “And if this is a dream, I don’t ever want to wake up. I just want to sit here with you, in front of a roaring fire…forever.”

  The flames flickered in the hearth and minutes slipped by without notice as both women became lost in their thoughts until Judy finally broke the silence. “Do you ever wonder if Adele picked out hers before she died?”

  With Judy’s head on her breast and the woman mindlessly running her hand up and down Robin’s thigh, it took a few seconds for Robin to answer. “Um…what?”

  Judy pointed to the urns sitting on the mantle. “They’re almost identical.”

  Robin glanced at the two brass urns holding the ashes of Adele and her mother. Other than one being a little more polished than the other, there was no difference. “I don’t know, but there was no way Adele would have known what I had picked for Mom.”

  “Interesting.”

  “I’ve actually been thinking about what to do with them.”

  “Why? I like them there.”

  “No, not the urns. I’m talking about what’s inside of them.”

  “Oh. Why?”

  “After all the years they spent apart, I’m not sure I want them separated in death, too. I thought about scattering their ashes on the island, but…but I don’t want people trampling on them.”

  “Good point. There aren’t many places on Mackinac where people don’t go. That’s for sure.”

  “Do you think it would be crass to split the ashes? Leave some in the urns and then…I don’t know…scatter the rest somewhere else?”

  “That’s a great idea,” Judy said, a soft grin gracing her face. “I like the way you think.”

  “Yeah, well, keep that thought,” Robin said, removing her arm from Judy’s shoulders.

  Judy missed Robin’s touch instantly, and she tipped her head to Robin. Noticing the twinkle in her eyes, Judy said, “What?”

  Without saying a word, Robin swung her leg across Judy and a second later she was straddling the woman’s legs. “I don’t want to talk about urns anymore if that’s okay with you” she whispered as she began kissing Judy’s neck. “It’s Christmas. I love you, and I want you.”

  A lusty feeling of warmth spread throughout Judy’s body, ending at her core with a pulse that took her breath away. Judy turned her head to the side, sighing as she felt Robin’s lips softly follow the curve of her neck. “Has anyone ever told you, you have a one-track mind?" Judy murmured.

  “You really want me to answer that?” Robin purred, continuing her sensual onslaught. “Or are you complaining?”

  Judy groaned as Robin nibbled on her ear lobe. “Um…no…definitely not complaining.”

  “Good.” Robin rested back long enough to take off Judy’s sweater, and tossing it aside, Robin quickly rid herself of not only her sweater but her bra as well. “Now, where were we?” she whispered a few seconds before her lips found Judy’s.

  The kiss was wet and probing, and Judy relished every stroke of Robin’s tongue as it danced with her own, but when she felt Robin unclasping her bra, Judy broke out of the kiss. “You’re incorrigible,” she said with a laugh. “And we have a perfectly good bedroom for this.”

  “I k
now, but it’s so far away,” Robin said, gazing into Judy’s eyes as she drew the straps of the bra down Judy’s arms. “And I think we can both agree…we’ve wasted enough time.”

  ***

  Later that night, when the house was quiet, Isobel Vallencourt stood in front of an easel larger than she’d ever been afforded and with charcoal, she sketched. Death brought with it no stains on her fingers, no smudges of soot as she drew, and the purity of her dress remained intact as it had for so many years.

  She looked over occasionally and smiled at the cats who had become her friends. Why they didn’t run, why they didn’t scamper in fear from her existence or rather her non was an answer she’d never find, but their company, in purrs and piercing green stares gave her more substance in death than she’d had when she was alive.

  It had taken her over a century to understand that death had not been her answer. Yes, it had given her freedom from duty, and yes, it had protected her from hands, rough and hard, but the peace she had sought hadn’t been found in death. It had been found in life. It had been found in the strength of two women who, like her, chose to hide, but unlike her, they still had lived. They had loved and laughed. They had touched and kissed, and while time spent was short, every minute they shared was a lifetime.

  She had seen it in their eyes and heard it in their whispers, and high in a stairwell, she had drawn them, keeping their secret safe yet rejoicing in something she had only had for one summer more than a hundred years before.

  It was a summer when a family moved to the island, bringing with them servants and a caregiver for their children. Her hair was dark and flowing, and her eyes the shade of cinnamon, and in one glance, Isobel’s heart no longer was her own. It was a summer of discovery, of ardor new and compelling, and in the shadows of a stairway leading to a playroom when their hands touched for the briefest of moments, denial was no more. And it was a summer when in the depths of the forest their lips first met, and afterward, in a house not yet inhabited by the owners, they made love, touching and tasting all that was forbidden.

  There were countless moments of joy when they shared their rapture without abandon, yet as the months moved slowly by, their guilt and fear became oppressive. They were breaking the laws of their church, and exposure would bring shame upon not only themselves but their families as well. If discovered, they would be deemed filthy and unnatural, yet disavowing their love was impossible, so they carried the strain of their secret until winter was almost upon them.