With a stomach full of delicious potato salad and hamburger, Diane relaxed in a chair by the fire pit, enjoying its warmth as the night cooled, and the blackness above bloomed into a sky full of stars. She drew in a long breath, and let it go. Tonight was wonderful. She felt ridiculous for even hesitating about coming. Diane laughed at herself. Michelle hadn’t even crossed her mind. In fact, the one person she was dreading having to interact with, she hadn’t seen the entire night.
“Your pie was amazing.”
Diane turned and found Michelle’s business partner smiling down at her. “Hi, Shawn,” she said, sitting up straighter.
“Hey,” he said, taking the empty chair next to her. “I’d never had blueberry and rhubarb together. I think I’ve eaten half of it already.”
Diane laughed. “At least someone’s appreciating my efforts.”
“Michelle liked it too.”
“Did she?” Diane asked. “I shouldn’t take her lack of pie enthusiasm to heart?”
“Not at all.” Shawn shook his head. “She appreciated the gesture more than she’s willing to admit. Even to me.”
“Good to know.” Diane looked at him for a moment, watching the firelight fall on his youthful features. “Have you known her long?”
“Seven years,” Shawn said. “Michelle and I worked at a large studio together downstate.”
“Did you?”
“Made some really nice pieces together.” Shawn nodded. “I wouldn’t put up with her attitude. She laughed at all my bad jokes. We became good friends. It was nice.”
“Bad jokes?” Diane arched a brow.
Shawn grinned and leaned closer. “What is a tree’s favorite kind of math?”
“What kind?”
“Twigonometry.” Shawn let the punchline sit for a moment before letting out a hearty laugh.
Diane snorted, restraining a smile. “If she tolerates that awful sense of humor, you must have an unbreakable bond.”
“We do.” A soft smile clung to his lips. “She’s family.”
Diane adjusted herself in her seat, giving Shawn her full attention. “How did you both end up at the studio in the islands?”
“Well,” Shawn took in a heavy breath, “I moved into her apartment, after she offered me a safe and supportive place to stay when I started transitioning—my landlord at the time was not modest regarding their transphobia.”
“How disgusting.” Diane scowled. “I’m sorry you experienced that.”
“Thank you,” Shawn sighed. “Afterwards, Michelle had the opportunity to open her own studio, and she offered me a partnership if I moved up here. I didn’t hesitate.”
“Wow,” Diane said, the words falling in a whisper of disbelief.
Shawn leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees, staring at the grass.
Diane inched forward in her own seat and spoke softly, “Have you always been interested in glass blowing?”
“More or less,” he said, a smile returning to his face. “Photography is my first love, though. Landscapes. The studio gets most of my time, but I still do some freelance work when I can. I’ve applied to different galleries around the state, trying to get my work in. Someday.”
“I’d love to see your photos,” Diane said. “I’m always looking for new pieces to put up around the house.”
“I can make that happen,” Shawn said. “Swing by sometime and you can check it out.”
“Sounds great.”
“And you know,” Shawn said, nudging her knee playfully with his own, “if another pie happens to wander over with you, I won’t be disappointed.”
Diane laughed. “I can definitely make that happen.”
“Though you might have to make it two,” he said, pointing through the crowd with a smirk. “If your next pie is anything like the first, there’s no way I’m sharing with that one.”
That’s when Diane saw her.
Up until then, Diane spent the evening on everything but a single thought of Michelle. But that was impossible now. From across the yard, Diane’s gaze clung to Michelle and the outfit she wore. The shirt dress was a radiant, burnt orange color, with a casual sash at the waist that framed her soft curves. The length of it was short and flirty, and showed the enticing shape of her legs—her smooth, fair skin lightly bronzed by the summer sun. She was remarkable. But that wasn’t all. The untamed bliss on Michelle’s face, as she trotted barefoot across the grass with a little girl—maybe six or seven—giggling on her back, left Diane breathless. She’d never seen Michelle like that. Never imagined her smile could be so inviting, and alarmingly beautiful.
“Two peas in a pod,” Shawn chuckled.
Diane stared. “Who’s the little girl?”
“That’s Autumn and Darren’s daughter, Maya,” he said. Diane smiled, watching the girl’s thick puff of black hair bouncing playfully as Michelle carried her towards the deck. “Sawyer’s been talking non-stop about getting to be a stepdad. But that girl? Maya’s crazy about Michelle. They’re cute together, aren’t they?”
“Yes.” Diane swallowed. “They are.”
Michelle climbed the steps and spun the girl into Autumn’s arms, cradling the girl’s light brown cheeks in her hands as she kissed her forehead. Diane’s chest tightened. The scene was touching and wildly unexpected. Not that Diane wished Michelle was nothing more than the unpleasant personality she’d grown accustomed to. But the way Diane watched her now, witnessing the blatant tenderness and affection she had for those she cared for, left Diane even more curious—and startlingly attracted—by Michelle’s mysterious and multifaceted nature.
“All right,” Michelle shouted, she went to the edge of the deck and whistled with her fingers, quieting the gathering. “I’ve been informed, since the best man is a little timid with public speaking, I’m supposed to step in and give some type of speech for y’all before we call it a night.”
The music stopped. Voices hushed.
Diane gave a curious glance at Shawn and turned around fully in her seat.
“You better be nice,” Sawyer said, giving Michelle a playful jab as he wrapped his other arm around Autumn.
“You mean, I shouldn’t tell them how you used to hide broccoli in your underwear at the dinner table?”
The guests laughed.
“No,” Sawyer said, feigning anger. “That is privileged information.”
“My bad.”
Michelle winked at Sawyer as everyone laughed. Diane, included.
“In all seriousness,” Michelle said, placing her hands on the railing and looking down and across the backyard, “I do have a few things I want to say.”
Diane fixed her eyes on Michelle, as she paused and watched the sky for a long, quiet moment. The air grew heavy. Seconds ticked by. When Michelle’s eyes fell back to earth, Diane could feel the weight of Michelle’s emotions, like the mass of the stars were pressing down on her.
“Finding myself parentless at ten years old,” Michelle spoke, her voice low and fragile, “was devastating. I still feel it. Every day I feel that loss, embedded in me like a splinter I can’t dig out.”
Diane watched Michelle close her eyes and swallow, feeling her own throat parch as she listened.
“But…and stay with me here, I promise this isn’t the worst engagement toast ever,” Michelle softly laughed. “What I’m trying to say is, I lost a lot that day, but I also gained some things too,” Michelle continued, turning towards an older couple beside her, “thanks to my aunt and uncle for caring for me, and especially thanks to this guy right here. My cousin, Sawyer.”
Sawyer’s lips turned up with an encouraging smile. His arm tightened around Autumn and Maya, holding them close, and keeping an affectionate eye on Michelle.
“When I think about that time in my life, I think about the tragic parts, but I also think a lot about this loving and kind and uplifting person, and how I couldn’t have made it without him. He’s only five years older than me, yet he’s wise beyond his years on this earth�
��and believe me, he reminds me of this every chance he gets,” Michelle laughed.
“The truth always bears repeating, I think,” Sawyer shouted, shrugging with a coy grin.
Michelle rolled her eyes. “See what I mean?”
Diane joined the group with a chuckle.
“But aside from his annoyingly adorable ego on display right now,” Michelle went on, giving Sawyer an affectionate nudge with her elbow, “he’s an irreplaceable companion in my life. The shelter when I need one. The warmth when I feel frozen with grief and sadness. And I have no doubt he’ll provide the same for Autumn and Maya, as they continue building their life together.” Michelle took Sawyer’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “I couldn’t think of someone more deserving of a happily ever after, and I feel privileged sharing this occasion with you. I love you, brother. Congratulations.”
***
Nearing midnight, with the guests dwindling down, Diane congratulated and thanked Autumn and Sawyer, and headed off. She trekked down the sidewalk, enjoying the brisk summer night and the peacefulness that had settled around the city. The North End of Burlington was quiet. The neighborhood softened by a spattering of porchlights and streetlamps, and a monotonous lullaby of light traffic zipping down the avenue. The night lifted her. She felt renewed. Coming tonight was a brilliant decision. A smile stuck to her lips, and as Diane continued down the sidewalk, thinking about the delightful connections she made and—
Diane stopped abruptly.
She stared at her Mustang.
Two vehicles boxed her in, including a familiar one. She glared at the scant millimeters between her priceless classic and Michelle’s big, hideous, ridiculous Jeep.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Diane groaned.
Sure, in Michelle’s emotional speech, Diane realized her massive error. Her impression of her neighbor was badly skewed. With Michelle’s brazen and admirable vulnerability, Diane saw a whole new side to Michelle she didn’t plan for. After their handful of exchanges, she’d grown used to her neighbor’s prickly personality. Expected it, even. But now, with the sound of Michelle’s low, penetrative voice lingering in her, long after her speech ended, Diane wasn’t sure she was ready for a different perspective. One that made Michelle last in her mind, longer than she cared to admit.
But, apparently, Diane didn’t need to worry.
Michelle had an abundance of character flaws up her sleeve to irritate her with.
Including parking like a jerk.
Diane grumbled and fished through her bag for her keys.
“Sorry,” Michelle’s voice called out from behind.
Diane rolled her tongue in her mouth and threw a polite smile at Michelle, who jogged towards her barefooted, flip-flops in hand.
“I’ll be out of your way in a second,” Michelle said.
“It’s fine.” Diane squelched her annoyance. She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and jiggled her keys in her hand, staring at them purposefully. “I wasn’t in a rush.”
Michelle stopped next to Diane on the cushion of grass near the sidewalk. The hazy lamppost light drizzled down on them. Catching her breath, Michelle pushed her hair back, and Diane focused on a few unruly strands as they fell about her face, the breeze teasing them into a light dance across her prominent cheekbones.
“Heading home?” Michelle asked.
“I am.” Diane nodded. “It’s definitely past my bedtime.”
“At a certain age, staying out late loses its appeal, doesn’t it?”
Diane smiled. “It does, yes.”
“It’s nice to get out, though.”
“On a rare occasion.”
“Tonight must have been one of those rare occasions, then,” Michelle said, eyeing Diane. “It looked like you were enjoying yourself.”
“Did it?”
“From what I saw, at least.”
Diane leaned her backside against her car, crossing her arms and legs as she absorbed Michelle’s intriguing words. She wanted to try something. Diane decided to take that new, lighter side of Michelle she observed tonight for a test run, and see where it goes. With a little innocent shrug of her shoulders, Diane licked her lips delicately and set her eyes on Michelle.
“I see,” Diane said, her voice dropping to a low, serious tenor, “you were keeping an eye on me tonight.”
Michelle tilted her head slightly and narrowed her eyes. Diane could see the uncertainty in her look, the trepidation forming at the prospect of another argument igniting between them. She restrained a grin.
“I would have thought,” Diane continued, her voice turning playful and provocative, “this area was out of your neighborhood watch jurisdiction.”
Michelle’s face softened. Her lips slowly curled into a smirk, and she folded her arms across her chest, mimicking Diane’s posture. “Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t.”
“Want to keep me guessing?” Diane asked, gently stoking the sudden, and fickle spark between them. “That’s probably best.”
“Exactly,” Michelle said. “Can’t let you get too comfortable around here.”
Diane bowed her head and relinquished her act, letting a deep chuckle roll through her.
“What I meant was,” Michelle stepped forward, “you stayed late and didn’t go running for the hills. I’m taking that as you had a good time.”
“Yes. I did.” Diane nodded. “Your friends and family were very welcoming. I had a nice time getting acquainted with them.”
Michelle looked her in the eyes. “From what I gathered, you left the same impression on them, as well.”
Diane’s chest warmed, and a smile slowly stretched across her face. It wasn’t a blatant truce from Michelle, or a promise of a more cordial relationship between them, but it was close enough. A starting point.
“Maya is adorable,” Diane said. “You fill the role of fun aunt very well, giving out piggyback rides.”
“Oh, really?” Michelle eyed Diane, giving her whole body a heap of attention.
“What?” Diane frowned.
Michelle moved closer. “Who was watching who, exactly?”
There were those dimples again. They did so much more to Diane this time around. And with that teasing, accusatory purr Michelle put on her words, Diane responded to it immediately. She looked down. Her eyes fell on Michelle’s lips. And lingered there. A familiar heat rose in Diane’s core, an unmistakable—yet nearly forgotten—flare of attraction. One she hadn’t felt for another woman in the longest time. Diane thought she was ready for that new, inviting side of Michelle. But this? This confident, flirty, and extremely sexy side of Michelle? Diane definitely wasn’t prepared for that.
“I wasn’t—I wasn’t watching you at all,” Diane said. She clenched her jaw and swallowed, averting her eyes to her keys again. “I just happened to notice.”
“Is that all?”
“That’s all.” Diane met her eyes, hoping she’d buy her excuse. Diane patted the side of her car. “Same way I’m noticing your monstrosity of a vehicle preventing me from leaving.”
Michelle laughed. “Nice deflection.”
“I thought so.” Diane followed Michelle, stepping down from the curb, and rounding the Jeep towards her Mustang.
“I am glad you had a good time tonight,” Michelle said, as Diane walked past.
“Are you sure?” Diane teased, unlocking her door.
“What do you mean?”
“You seemed rather repulsed when I told you Sawyer invited me.”
“I was not repulsed,” Michelle said quickly. She sighed. “I wasn’t. It was unexpected, and I was surprised. But you two seemed to have hit it off. He really likes you.”
“And I really like him. He’s a good guy.” Diane leaned her elbow on the roof of her car. “Though, it’s not Sawyer I’m concerned about,” she said.
“Oh?”
“It’s his cousin I’m working on.”
“Yeah,” Michelle watched Diane for a moment, and nodded with a sigh. “I know. She’s a lo
t harder to win over.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“And, as I’ve been told,” Michelle said, glancing upward for a moment, “rather frequently lately, sometimes she can be a real asshole.”
“Perhaps that’s true,” Diane said, softly, opening her driver’s side door. “But I don’t know. There’s more to her, I suspect, evidenced by that touching speech I heard tonight.”
Michelle dropped her eyes to the ground with a shrug.
“Now I’m thinking she’s not so bad.”
“You know what?” Michelle said, looking up with a smile. She opened the door and tossed her sandals in. “You’re not so bad yourself. Especially when you’re killing me with delicious pie instead of trying to murder me with a crowbar.”
Diane smiled. “My pies are to die for.”
Leaning against the side of her Jeep, Michelle laughed hard, sending another wave of warmth through Diane. Her stomach tightened. The sound was delicious. Thick and rich with amusement. Whatever appealing qualities of Michelle she was tapping into here, Diane wanted more.
“While we’re on the topic, for accuracy purposes,” Diane wet her lips as her cheeks flushed pink, “it was a fire iron. Not a crowbar.”
“Oh. Thank God. Much better.” Michelle grinned with an eye roll, hopping up on the side bar. She laughed again. “See you around, Diane.”
Sliding into her driver’s seat, Diane closed the door and watched Michelle climb into her Jeep. She held the steering wheel for several quiet beats, replaying their conversation in her head, letting the image of Michelle’s smile persist in her mind. The Jeep’s red tail lights ignited. The vehicle sped off and disappeared down the empty street. Waking the Mustang’s engine, Diane followed her, fighting her own lasting smile the whole ride home.
Fire and Water Page 8
