Fire and Water

by Amanda Kayhart

Michelle rested her hand on Diane’s elbow. “I’ll get us some drinks, if you could score us a table?”

  Diane looked around skeptically. “I’ll certainly try.”

  Michelle winked and sunk into the crowd, weaving her way towards the bar, leaving Diane to start table hunting. Thankfully, Diane located a smaller room adjacent to the main one, with quieter conversations and softer lighting with a row of windows overlooking the street. Diane shook off her coat and settled down, folding her hands together and staring at the traffic, trying to convince herself maybe this conversation wouldn’t be so disastrous, after all. Michelle knew her stay in Vermont wasn’t permanent. Diane knew this too. But that was before things undoubtedly changed between them. Before Diane threw her plans out the window, her heart taking the reins, leading her to a place there was no turning back from.

  “Hiding from me, I see,” Michelle said, skirting around the tables. She flashed Diane a grin and set their drinks down, hanging her coat on the chair and taking the seat across from Diane. “I thought you’d appreciate something warm. Don’t worry, it’s decaf. Extra cream. No sugar.”

  “Just how I like it.” Cupping the mug full of coffee, Diane stared at the drink, before taking a short sip. “Thank you.”

  Truthfully, Diane wasn’t interested in drinking anything, but she wanted something to hold on to. Something solid to keep her hands from shaking. Diane looked up and found Michelle tasting hers quietly, watching out the window with a content expression on her face. The beautiful sight made Diane even more nauseous with worry.

  Setting her coffee down, Michelle met Diane’s gaze and smiled. “Is the drink okay?” she asked. “This place is known for its IPAs, but they make a decent cup of coffee, I think.”

  “It’s very good. And this place is nice,” Diane said. She scanned the space with its clean cedar walls, and pictures of maple leaves and sugar-tapping buckets. Very Vermont. “Have you come here before?”

  “A few times,” Michelle said. “Mostly with Shawn. He likes to drag me here to watch boring sports things sometimes.”

  “Mm. Boring sports things.” Diane smiled. “That sounds right up your alley.”

  “I don’t mind,” Michelle shrugged, cupping her drink. “It makes him happy, so it makes me happy too.”

  Drawing her coffee to her lips, Diane pulled in a long breath, taking in the bold scent of her drink and took a sip. “You’re wonderful, do you know that?”

  Michelle shrugged.

  “Do you also know…” Diane set the cup down and licked the flavor off her lips nervously. Her heart was racing. She glanced out the window for a moment, before turning back to Michelle. “Sometimes I can’t get over how wrong my perceptions were of you.”

  A blush settled on Michelle’s cheeks, and she dropped her eyes to the table. “I think we were both guilty of that.”

  “Before coming here,” Diane spoke, shaking her head in dismay, “I never liked surprises. But this whole experience here, with you? You’ve altered many things I used to believe about myself. Deceptions I fed myself as truths for far too long. Brought forth feelings and desires I pushed aside. I can’t go back to being that person. I don’t want to be that person any longer. I want to be happy and successful and take risks for things that I want.”

  “Such as…”

  “I finished my book.”

  Michelle blinked. “What?”

  “My book. I finished it. This morning.”

  Michelle’s eyes widened. “That’s…are you serious?”

  “Crazy, right?” Diane smiled, forcing the emotion to reach her eyes, her heart pounding viciously inside her chest. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

  “Diane that’s—” Michelle’s expression softened and she relaxed, reaching for Diane’s hand, holding her fingers tight. “Congratulations. Why didn’t you say anything earlier? That’s amazing.”

  Diane let out a sigh of relief. “Is it?”

  Michelle laughed. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “That’s a loaded question,” Diane laughed.

  “Really? Why?”

  “Michelle, I—” Diane paused and stared at their hands entwined. She could feel her pulse throbbing in her fingers. “Finishing my book means…I have to go. I have to go back to work and get things in order.”

  “Oh.” Michelle sunk back into her seat.

  “There’re preparations I need to make for the upcoming semester, other department obligations I’ve neglected for far too long.”

  “Yes. Right,” Michelle said, shaking her head quickly. “Yeah. Of course.”

  “And…” Diane squeezed Michelle’s hand, “I know, the timing isn’t ideal, after things progressed this week, but I think if I push this back any longer, and ignore my other responsibilities I’ll regret it. Things between us have been unexpected, but I think—”

  “You don’t have to do this.” Michelle pulled her hand away and reached for her coffee instead. She clutched the mug but never took a drink. “I get it.”

  Diane frowned. “You get what?”

  “I knew this would happen, obviously,” Michelle answered arrogantly. “I am happy for you, Diane. I am. Honestly. You have your life to return to, a book to get out into the world. A job waiting for you. I understand. You don’t have to coddle me with an ‘it’s been great’ speech.”

  “Coddle?” Diane’s forehead pinched. Her head snapped backwards. “That’s not what—”

  “I agree with you. We were messing around and neither one of us expected this to happen,” Michelle said, her tone turning dismissive. She dropped her coffee cup back on the table. “You were lonely. I was lonely. We never agreed this was anything, right? We never had that conversation.”

  “No.” Diane dropped her head, closing her eyes for a moment. “You’re right. I suppose we didn’t.”

  Shrugging, Michelle’s eyes drifted to the window. “Then don’t worry about it.”

  “Michelle.”

  “Diane. I’m a big girl, I can handle casual relationships,” Michelle said, looking at Diane, her bold, brown eyes shrinking with a cold and distant light. “I didn’t think this was going to be something serious. Something real. That’s not what I was looking for. And you, coming from a divorce, I knew you weren’t either. There’s no hard feelings here.”

  “Something real? Right. Of course,” Diane choked, pressing her tongue into the tops of her teeth to keep from crying. “Me, too. That’s precisely what I was going to say. I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

  “It was fun,” Michelle said, crossing her arms. “We had fun together. You can go back to your life, and I can go back to my life, and you don’t need to feel guilty about that, because it wasn’t anything to take seriously.”

  “Well, good. I’m glad that’s settled,” Diane said cautiously, meekly, concealing the hurt she felt as she swallowed the bitter jaggedness of her own lie. “Because I really care for you, Michelle, and hurting you is the last thing—”

  “You’re not. You haven’t,” Michelle said, pressing her mouth into a sharp, emotionless line. “I’m so incredibly happy for you and your book, and I know you have more work to get done back home. I had fun while it lasted. I enjoyed our time together, and getting to know you, and we don’t have to make something out of nothing.”

  The table went silent. Michelle turned her eyes to the window, following the flow of traffic and headlights as they streaked past the window. Looking the other way, Diane turned her eyes to the crowd around them and tried not to cry. This was not at all how she wanted this to go. But Michelle was right. They’d never discussed what they meant to each other, never put a label on their relationship, and maybe that was all Diane’s fault. It was all Diane’s fault for raking her own heart over the coals, getting wrapped up in someone who didn’t share the same feelings in return. Diane sighed. What a disaster. Twelve hours ago, returning home to Florida was the last thing she’d wanted, but now as the coolness came upon the table, and
Diane felt the sharp cold rejection from Michelle, retreating back home to the soothing heat of the South couldn’t come soon enough.

  “I’m going to go,” Michelle said. She stood and slipped her jacket off the back of the chair. “If that’s all right with you?”

  “Michelle,” Diane sighed, watching Michelle push her chair in and throw her jacket on. “Stay. Please. Can we finish our drinks together at least?”

  “Um, you know, I just remembered I need to help Shawn getting some pieces over to the gallery tomorrow, and it’s getting late.” Michelle walked around the table and placed her hand on Diane’s shoulder, kissing her quickly on her head. “I am really proud of you, Diane. Congratulations again on completing your book. It’s going to do great.”

  “Michelle—”

  Her name fell from Diane’s lips in a desperate plea, but Michelle slipped through the crowd too fast to hear it. Diane sunk into her seat and stared at the empty chair across from her, feeling more alone and rejected than she’d ever felt before.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Rain pelted the windows. A veil of heavy fog shrouded the lake and mountains, trapping the islands under a dome of gray, not a drop of sunlight around. What a depressing scene. With her Mustang packed and ready to go, Diane took one last spin around the house, making sure she collected every last one of her things. She dropped her canvas bag on the floor, leaned against the door, and paused in the entryway, giving the lake house a final exam. Diane sighed. Everything was in place. Neat. Orderly. Tidy and perfect, just the way Diane had found it, as if she was never there—if only that was the truth.

  Vermont was everything she’d needed. Diane had no regrets; she’d accomplished her main objective of completing her book. And she was so proud of herself. But after Michelle left her, all alone in the tap house, feeling dismissed and unwanted, it drained every ounce of excitement Diane had for this place. For a few days after, Diane tried throwing her shoulders back and shaking the whole thing off, but it was useless. Every time she heard that obnoxious Jeep revving up and tearing down the road, every time Diane picked up her phone and saw her barren inbox, Diane’s heart broke a little more. Michelle’s resounding silence told Diane everything she needed to know: it was time to go home.

  Maureen was right. Vermont was awfully whimmy. Too drastic and uncharacteristic, and now Diane was completely out of sorts. Once she got home and settled, she’d feel more like herself and a lot better about everything. Right? Because nothing felt worse than the present, leaving the lake house and watching Michelle’s house and the glass blowing sign fade in the rearview mirror. Turning off Lakeview Drive, Diane wiped her tears away. With a long drive to Florida ahead of her, she’d hoped a fifteen-hundred-mile journey was enough time to dig herself out of rock bottom.

  But first, Diane had to make one last, very important stop.

  It was still early in the morning, and she wasn’t sure Sawyer would even be working yet, especially as the busy tourist season was winding down. But Diane was relieved find Sawyer’s food truck in the parking lot and the open sign on the side. Grabbing the freshly-made treat for Sawyer from the passenger seat, Diane ran towards the truck as the rain fell harder and faster.

  “Good morning,” Diane said with a smile, thankful for the reprieve from the rain under the truck’s awning. She flipped her dampened hair from her face. “I was hoping I’d catch you.”

  “Hey, you,” Sawyer said. He leaned in the window, striking Diane with his usual heart melting smile. “What’s up? Braving the delightful weather for my delicious grub?”

  Diane chuckled. “I’m surprised you’re open, honestly,” she said, noting Sawyer had swapped his summer bandana and tank top for a black beanie and a fleece pull-over. “It’s getting rather chilly.”

  “A few more weeks,” he said. “I’ll close up after all the leaf peepers head home. What about you? What brings you around this early? Hungry? Want me to whip up a breakfast burrito for you? I got homemade hot sauce to go with it. I know you like a good spicy kick in the mouth.”

  “I’m not hungry, but thank you. Actually, I had an important delivery to make before I left,” Diane said. She pushed the pie across the window. “Chocolate pumpkin. Fresh from the oven for you. It’s still warm.”

  “You are too good to me.” Sawyer shook his head and lifted the pie towards his nose, giving it a long sniff. “This smells amazing, thank you. Wait. Before you leave? Where are you…are you leaving leaving?”

  “On my way out of town, right now, actually,” Diane tucked her hands in her rain coat, and gestured to her car with her chin. “I didn’t want to leave before saying goodbye.”

  “Well, this is a bummer.” Sawyer’s shoulders dropped. “I’m sad to see you go.”

  “Me, too.” Diane lowered her head and sniffled, blaming her sudden congestion on the damp weather and not a certain someone she couldn’t stop thinking about. “It’s time.”

  “Well, then, the bigger question is,” Sawyer asked, raising his brow as he looked at Diane, his hazel eyes bright and curious, “did you finish it?”

  “Yes,” Diane nodded, a humble smile making its way to her lips. “I did.”

  “All right, Diane!” Sawyer left the window and opened up the back door to the truck and hopped out, jogging over and wrapping her in a hug. “I’m so happy for you. That’s awesome.”

  “Thank you.” Diane laughed, hugging him back with both arms tight around his long, lanky frame. “I’m going to get you soaked from my jacket.”

  “Who cares?” Diane laughed more, as Sawyer squeezed her tight. “You’re an official author now.”

  “Not exactly,” she said, patting him on his back.

  “In my opinion you are. Does Michelle know?” Sawyer pulled away and studied her. She knew he could see her eyes dimming with his question. “I don’t think she ever stopped bragging about your reading you did last week.”

  “She knows,” she said, her voice lowering. “We talked about it.”

  Sawyer stepped back, his gentle face marred with worry. “And?”

  Diane shook her head with a shrug. “She’s happy for me.”

  “You are good for her, you know,” Sawyer said, tightening his shoulders as the wind picked up and slapped the rain sideways. He turned his attention to the line of cars driving past, puddles fanning into the air as the tires struck. “I haven’t seen her like this in…a really long time.”

  Diane rolled her tongue in her mouth, keeping her composure, and offered Sawyer a weak nod.

  “I don’t think there’s been a time I wasn’t worried about Michelle,” he said, staring down at the ground and pushing a few rocks with his boots. “I can’t imagine going through what she did. Yes, she and I have always had a tight relationship, and she’s always been open with family, but I’ve never seen her allow anyone in like she did with you.”

  Diane looked away with a hard swallow.

  “You made her willing to put herself out there again. It’s like you flicked on this light inside her, I didn’t know existed,” Sawyer said. “Or even Michelle realized existed either.”

  “Yes, well…” Diane looked down too, unable to keep her tears at bay. She swiped them away with her thumb. “She’s had quite the effect on me, too.”

  Much more than Diane wasn’t willing to admit aloud. To anyone. Diane wasn’t angry at Michelle, she made her feelings clear and honest. And maybe at some point she’d share the same frivolous sentiment as Michelle. But standing there now, on the cusp of saying goodbye to everything and everyone she’d gotten to know and love in her time in Vermont was an impossible task.

  “Maybe now, after opening herself up to someone like you, she’ll want to with others, and not keep everyone at arm’s length.” Sawyer shrugged with a chuckle. “Who knows, though. She’s stubborn.”

  Sniffling, Diane turned back to Sawyer with a genuine smile. “She is, isn’t she.”

  “I’m going to miss you,” Sawyer said, pressing his tongue into his che
ek with a nod. His mouth twisted, and Diane could tell he was trying hard to keep his cool. “Will you keep in touch?”

  “Of course. Yes,” Diane said, firmly even with her lip quivering. “You made me feel at home from the moment I arrived. My time here wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Sawyer smirked. “Not sure I know how to be anything but charming, though.”

  “Obviously,” Diane chuckled. The rain came at them harder, and Diane squinted through the sheet of water towards her car. “I think that’s my cue to get going.”

  “I want to know the instant I can buy your book.” Sawyer opened his arms again and pulled Diane in for another hug. “Got it?”

  “I will.”

  “Safe travels.” Sawyer stepped back and smiled. “Take care of yourself, Diane.”

  “I will.” Diane pushed a smile across her face and waved goodbye. “I always do.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “What did I ever do to you?” Diane asked, she crouched down and opened the copier as it made a series of ungodly sounds. She ripped the jammed piece of paper out and pressed copy again, only to get an error code in return. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “You’re too gentle, Diane,” a firm and husky voice called from behind. “It’s October. This thing starts whining around midterms, you know, much like the students—and certain faculty members. You got to show the machine who’s boss.”

  Smirking, Diane spun and came face-to-face with Zilha, the English department’s useful and knowledgeable admin. Relieved for some assistance, Diane moved aside as Zilha approached, a serious and determined look in the older woman’s eye. Tall with broad shoulders, the only thing short and thin about Zilha was her hair cut, styled neatly on her head and in its usual bold, burgundy red. Her plain black top balanced out the playfulness of her leopard-print skirt and matching wedge heels. Zilha’s spunk always brightened Diane’s day.

  “You have to give it a good smack,” Zilha said. She eyed Diane over her black-framed glasses punching a few buttons on the touchscreen and ramming her hip into the side. The machine went straight to work, spitting out copies of Diane’s syllabus. “See, it likes it rough,” she said, then leaned in close with a whisper, “just like Professor Decant in Medieval studies. From what I’ve heard, he’s taking his dungeon research a little too personally.”