by Radclyffe
Chapter Nineteen
The screen door closed with a bang as Taylor came out carrying a muffin and her usual morning hot chocolate.
“Hi,” Blaise said, sipping her second cup of coffee of the day.
Taylor sat beside her on the swing. “Isn’t this where I left you last night?”
“Mm-hmm.” She’d finally gone to bed when her body had overruled her mind, and the buzz—the tornado, actually—of Grady’s good-night kiss had finally waned. Even then, she’d lain awake, not reliving the kiss as she’d imagined she might, but wondering what she wanted next. Oh, she knew what she wanted—she just didn’t know if she should. She wasn’t against spending time with an attractive, funny, interesting, great-kissing woman. She just…didn’t all that often. Grady, though, Grady was more than that. Grady instigated. That’s what it was—she started things she had no business starting. Like the warmth in the pit of Blaise’s stomach at the merest reminder of Grady’s teasing voice, or appraising glance, or…God…her mouth.
“Mom?”
“Hmm? Sorry?”
“You’re not working today, right?”
“No,” Blaise said, almost glad she wasn’t, and that was definitely new. She liked her job. Loved it. She’d spent years studying part-time while raising Taylor when other twenty-year-olds were still cloistered in the protected world of college. Today, though, she was happy not to have a shift. Grady was a lot like her—work was part of who she was, and she’d likely take any excuse to show up at the hospital. So if she went to work, she might see Grady.
Blaise mentally rolled her eyes. Kidding herself much? She’d been sitting there thinking about her for the last hour. No use denying that she wanted to see Grady. Curiosity, that’s what it was. What a strange feeling to have about a woman. Curiosity. Wondering what Grady’d do next, say next, make her feel next. That was the hook, of course. Grady made her feel things. Things she hadn’t expected to feel, ever, or had forgotten that she wanted to. And then of course there was the kiss. If Taylor hadn’t come home when she did, the kiss might have become more. Thank goodness they’d been sitting on the front porch. And how smart had she been not to invite Grady inside for that nightcap? She’d known herself better than she’d let herself acknowledge.
How long had she been pretending to herself about what she didn’t want? That was not a thought that made her very happy.
“So, I’m meeting up with everybody at Blake’s to study this afternoon,” Taylor said.
“Is that what you call it now,” Blaise teased. “No marathon Risk game on the schedule?”
“No really, we’re serious.” Taylor drew her feet up to the glider and wrapped her arms around her bent knees. Somehow her mug remained balanced on the broad wooden arm.
Blaise instantly pictured Grady’s hand on the arm of the glider last night, the other braced on the back. Caging her in. She could have escaped, like a bird through an open window, any time she’d wanted. But she hadn’t.
“Besides, Dave needs help with math,” Taylor said. “He has to raise his SATs if he’s going to get into Duke.”
College. Like an unexpected rush of cold water in the midst of a hot shower, reality snapped into sharp focus. There it was, the next big step in their lives. She was close to having what she needed for Taylor to go pretty much anywhere she wanted, at least to start, though she secretly prayed for scholarships. She didn’t tell her that. She’d vowed when Taylor was born that her daughter would have the opportunities she’d never had. And there was no price tag attached. Her love was free.
You’ve made your bed, now you can go lie in it. You’ll get no help from me.
Blaise shrugged off the memory. “I didn’t know he wanted to go there.”
“Well, everybody thinks it’s because of the football.”
Blaise turned to Taylor. She knew that tone—something on her mind. “Isn’t it?”
“This is kind of, you know, personal. Private,” Taylor said.
“Before you tell me, if it’s something that is likely to put any of you in danger, I can’t swear to silence.”
“Mom.” Eye roll.
“I know, I know, but it’s best that we’re clear with each other.”
“It’s nothing bad. Dave wants to be a minister.”
“Ah. Wow. That’s great. Is it a secret?”
“Well, sort of. Everybody just sees him as the quarterback, you know?”
“I do,” Blaise said steadily. “But it’s not exactly something to be ashamed of.”
“Totally. But it’s just hard, when you’re different in any way at all.”
“Sometimes it is. As long as the rest of you give him plenty of support, he’ll be fine.”
“We’re totally cool with it.”
“Good.” Blaise swallowed the rest of her cooling coffee. “So, Mom time now. Any more problems with Billy last night? After he asked you to go to another party, and you said no?”
Taylor glanced at her sideways through a fall of blond hair. “Okay, who told you about Billy jerk-face Riley?”
“Grady, and she made it clear you’d already handled things, so don’t be angry with her. I just wanted to make sure there wasn’t something else later.”
“No, there wasn’t. He was just doing his usual thing, pretending there was nobody else around when he talked to me and insulting everyone. Then refusing to hear the word no. What is with that?”
“Billy’s behavior is not typical. Sure, some people are going to ask more than once even if you say no. Maybe not right away, but a few days later…a week…they’ll ask again, just hoping you might have changed your mind. But most people will quit after the second time. This is a little extreme. But I know you know it, and as annoying as it is, I think it’s something you’ll just have to wait out.”
“I know. It’s a pain.”
Blaise reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. “Believe me, I know.”
“So, can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“When you were in high school, did you know you liked girls?”
Blaise took a breath. Well, that was a new question. They’d talked about sex, of course, and sexual identity, but they’d never actually talked about her life. “I did, but I pretended to myself that I didn’t.”
“How come?” Taylor asked quietly.
“You never got to meet your grandmother, and I’m sorry that you didn’t experience having a grandmother, but my mother was very rigid in her opinions about what was right and appropriate. That’s how she raised me to think, even though a lot of what she said never felt right to me. It took me quite a long time to realize that what she thought was good and bad wasn’t necessarily true at all. After you were born, she didn’t want anything to do with me, or you. And I’m sorry about that.”
“Wasn’t your fault, Mom,” Taylor said with a practical note.
Blaise laughed softly. “No, I suppose you’re absolutely right. But when I was your age, I guess I wasn’t—well, no, I don’t just guess, I know—I wasn’t as brave as any of you kids are today. So I just ignored the feelings I was told I shouldn’t have and tried to have the feelings that I thought I should have.”
“Well, first of all, that’s bullshit about not being brave. Because here you are, and look at us. And if that’s not gutsy, I don’t know what is.”
Grateful for the excuse of the slanting sunlight, Blaise shaded her eyes and swiped at a few tears. If there was one person in the world whose respect and love she wanted, it was Taylor. Just to know that she hadn’t let her down. “Well, I realized a little later than most that I was a lesbian. And that answered a lot of questions for me, about things that had never felt quite right that suddenly did. Are you questioning?”
“Me?” Taylor shook her head. “No. I’m not all that interested in anybody right now, I mean, not for the sex part. I’m really happy with my friends. I think a couple of them are pretty hot, but I’m not interested in, you know, getting with anybody right
away.”
“Okay. Could I ask who you think is pretty hot?”
Taylor laughed. “That’s really subtle, Mom. I think Margie is really hot, for a smartass, but I don’t get any of those feelings, you know, for her. Dave, he’s really hot. I could see that.”
“Okay,” Blaise said. “I think I got it. As long as you’re comfortable with whatever you feel, I’m good with that.”
“So, same here.”
“Sorry?”
“You know, if you want to date someone.”
“Ah. Well. I will definitely keep that in mind.” Blaise hesitated. The day seemed a day for heart-to-hearts. “You haven’t asked me anything about your biological father since you were nine.”
Taylor frowned. “Uh-huh. You said he was a guy you sort of dated for just a little while and that getting married was never an option. What more is there to say?”
“Some people want to know more about birth parents. If you do, there’s not much I can tell you because I really don’t know all that much, but you should know you can ask.”
“I don’t really care,” Taylor said. “He’s not part of our lives. He’s just the past, right?”
“Right,” Blaise said, “he’s very much part of the past.”
“I’m good with that,” Taylor said as she grabbed her mug and jumped up. “No worries.”
“Text me if your plans change,” Blaise called after her as Taylor disappeared through the door. The faint response, only slightly world-weary, left her smiling. She’d made some doozy mistakes growing up, but ensuring that her past never shadowed Taylor’s world wasn’t one of them, and she planned to keep it that way.
* * *
Flann found Abby on the back deck, coffee in hand, wrapped in the handcrafted multicolor patchwork quilt she’d purchased for Abby at the fair that summer. She leaned down to kiss her, grabbed the coffee cup, and took a sip. Still warm, still dark and rich. “Mm, thanks.”
Abby laughed and held out her hand. “Give it back.”
Grinning, Flann returned the cup and pulled over another chair close to Abby’s. She reached for her hand and interlocked their fingers. “Hi.”
“Hi. Everything good at the hospital?” Abby asked.
“Yeah. Quiet for now.”
“Did you happen to stop by the ER?”
“’Course.” Flann raised Abby’s hand and kissed her fingers, relaxing at the prospect of a day at home.
“Of course you did. Always looking for business.”
“Just trying to avoid that second trip back.”
“I think we’re giving you plenty of advance notice when something’s brewing,” Abby said. “No complaining, Rivers.”
“About half the rooms were occupied when I passed through,” Flann said, “but I didn’t see anything that looked worthy of the chief just yet.”
“Good. I could use a lazy morning. Especially if you don’t have any plans.”
Flann waggled a brow. “I could have.”
“Blake is still asleep. I don’t think he got in until almost five. Which means we have a window of a few hours all to ourselves.”
“Finish your coffee,” Flann said, “and we’ll take advantage of it.”
“Oh, I do love the sound of that.” Abby drained her cup. “And that’s that.”
Flann searched around for a good opening and couldn’t find one. “So…Blake and Margie.”
“Hmm?” Abby said absently.
“They’ve progressed to the kissing stage.”
“And you know this how?” Abby asked casually.
“Margie.”
“Really?” Abby released Flann’s hand, set her coffee cup aside, and faced in Flann’s direction. “Was she upset by it?”
“No. I think surprised would probably be the better word. She told me and didn’t seem particularly concerned, but it was enough of an event that she mentioned it.”
“And how do you feel about it?”
Flann shrugged. “Well, it’s really not about me, is it.”
Abby smiled gently. “Isn’t it?”
“Oh, come on. I know that teenagers have sex. Even though it makes me want to put my fingers in my ears when they talk about it.”
“But…Margie, sister, Blake, kid. All loaded issues there.” Abby paused. “Are you thinking about saying something to Blake?”
“Well, Margie didn’t say it was a private conversation, but it sorta was.”
“Okay, let’s just take this to one ultimate conclusion, even though it might not necessarily be where it’s going. Are you opposed if they have a sexual relationship?”
Flann winced.
“And you can’t put your fingers in your ears on this one.”
“No,” Flann said after a few seconds. That was enough time for her to see the picture and then unsee it. “They’re both terrific, smart kids. And I know they care about each other.” She studied Abby. “What about you?”
“They talk to us when they need to. As near as I can tell they’re honest with themselves, which is, really, amazing. Better than I did for a long time.”
“So you’re okay with it.”
“Do you trust Margie? Do you trust Blake?”
“Yes,” Flann said instantly.
“So do I. So yeah, I’m okay with it.”
“So we don’t say anything to him unless he says something to us.”
“I think that’s a good place to start.”
“Okay then,” Flann said getting to her feet. She held out her hand. “Let’s go have wild, crazy sex.”
Laughing, Abby got to her feet and took Flann’s hand. “Let’s.”
* * *
Grady spent the day mostly killing time. When she’d finally fallen asleep, she’d slept soundly and, amazingly, hadn’t dreamed. She almost wished she had. She wouldn’t have minded having a nice sexy dream about Blaise, although she didn’t really need to be asleep to have sexy dreams about Blaise. Every other minute she seemed to be having some fantasy that featured Blaise. Kisses with the addition of the small sounds she made that she probably wasn’t even aware of and flashes of the way she smelled and tasted.
Needing to get out and move around, she ate breakfast at the diner and went for a five-mile run that turned into ten miles when she couldn’t burn the agitation out of her system. She recognized the feeling. Horny. Wonderful. Not something that usually disturbed her equilibrium, but nothing was business as usual any longer.
All of that took up the morning, so she spent the afternoon catching up on journal reading. By the time dinnertime rolled around, she was ready to lose her mind. She’d reached for her phone fifty times to call Blaise, and then thought better of it. Blaise was a jumble of conflicting messages. She said she wasn’t interested in anything intimate, or wasn’t ready to be interested, and Grady had to believe that Blaise believed that. But that’s not what Blaise’s body said. When they’d kissed, Blaise had been right there, one hundred percent present, so fucking hot and sexy and…tempting. Teasing. Hungry. Blaise had wanted her, and Grady had felt it.
If she knew anything about Blaise, and she’d learned more about Blaise in the time they’d spent together than she’d ever cared to learn about anyone else, she knew Blaise would want to process. If she pushed now, Blaise would back away. A defensive reflex. Why, Grady didn’t know, but she wanted to. She wanted to know what Blaise feared might happen if they kissed again, if they did more than that. Was it just Grady radiating not serious, commitment-phobic? Something in the way she handled herself, or was it something else? If Blaise was vulnerable in some way, she needed to go easy, she needed to be patient.
When a ding signaled a text at seven, she dove for her phone. A spear of disappointment hit when she saw it wasn’t Blaise. She knew it wouldn’t be, but she’d been hoping in the back of her mind all day that it might be. It was a reprieve, though. The ER.
She called immediately.
“McClure,” she said. “Someone page me?”
“Hi, Dr. McC
lure, it’s Mari Mateo, one of the PAs in the ER. We’ve got a probable appendicitis here, and Dr. O’Malley just took an open tib fracture to the OR for a debridement. I thought I’d call before it got too late, in case something else comes in. The surgery resident is on the way down, and since you’re backup—”
“Yep, no problem,” Grady said. “I’ll be right over.”
She quickly changed into jeans, a fresh shirt, and running shoes, and made it to the hospital, walking fast, in fifteen minutes. The ER, as always, was brightly lit and looked the same at any time of day. Closed curtains on half a dozen cubicles indicated patients being worked up. Courtney, in scrubs, her hair caught back in a ponytail, sat at the nurses’ station, tapping on the computer.
“Hi, Court,” Grady said.
“Hey.” She looked up with a smile. “Are you here to see the appy?”
“Yeah. Did you do the workup?”
“Fifteen-year-old boy, belly pain for three days, vomiting for the last few hours.”
“Three-day history, huh. Kind of long for appendicitis.”
“Kids around here are tough, and they grow up working through minor injuries and illnesses. But he lost his appetite tonight, and that’s what got them in here.”
“Definitely a serious symptom,” Grady said with a wry smile. “White count?”
“22,000 with a shift. Temp’s a hundred point five, and he’s got localized tenderness. I don’t think there’s any question what’s going on.”
“All right, let’s take a look at him.” As Court led the way, she asked, “Did you see his plain films?”
“Yeah. A few distended loops of bowel, but no free air. If he’s perfed, it’s not free.”
“That’s a point in our favor.”
Court pulled a curtain aside and introduced her to Clete Orono.
“Hi, Clete,” Grady said, holding out her hand. “I’m Dr. Grady McClure. You mind if I take a look at your belly?”
