by Robyn Carr
“And when you went through a divorce,” he said.
“Oh, that was classic,” she said. “My mother always knew it wouldn’t work. She could see right away that Dixon was self-centered and lazy and she really tried not to say anything. Then there was an incident—he stood me up for dinner on my birthday! He had an excuse, but it wasn’t a great one. And he wasn’t sorry. And my mother caved and broke her own rule. She asked me what I was thinking and had I lost my fucking mind. And yes, she said ‘fucking.’ And of course I said, ‘But I love him!’ and she stopped talking. She said she just had to do it once in case there was some sanity in my head.”
“Her rule?” he asked. “Do what once?”
“She said when you’re the mother of a young woman and you don’t think the boyfriend is good enough, you dare not say so or your daughter will marry him before morning. It’s more of a challenge than advice. So she always tried to be welcoming to any boyfriends, to be accepting. I strained her willpower with a few of the guys I brought around, but the thought of me marrying such a selfish egomaniac just wore her down. And of course I married him! He came on to the maid of honor and I still married him. And when I divorced him she never once said she told me so. Instead she was totally sympathetic.”
“You came up here together, after the divorce,” he said.
“That’s right. A quiet getaway. I told Dixon to get his stuff out of our house and that I was filing for divorce.” She grew quiet. “He never asked for another chance. Now, of course, I can see that I dodged a bullet. I’m so much better off. But at the time I felt abandoned and lonely and devastated.”
“We need to eat before there’s more story,” Landry said. “And I know there’s more story.”
“I can’t even think about eating,” she said.
“Even more reason.” He went inside and she followed him. He opened the refrigerator and took inventory. “There’s lots of stuff in here. How would you like an omelet? A veggie omelet with sausage and potatoes on the side?”
“Sounds delicious, but I don’t have sausage and potatoes.”
“I do. I should go check on Lady, make sure she gets out for a break. I’ll bring the rest of the stuff for a breakfast for dinner when I come back. You can go take a shower, see if it makes you feel better. I’ll be right back and I’ll cook. How’s that sound?”
So that’s what they did. She showered while he was dealing with Lady and gathering up his groceries. When she came out of the shower he was slicing and dicing in the kitchen. Of course showering, blowing out her hair and having a nice dinner made all the difference. The storytelling went on while they ate and continued through the washing up of dishes. Then they moved to the sofa with glasses of wine, Tux on her lap and Otis curled up on the floor at their feet.
“My mom was very smart about life issues. When I wanted to write she encouraged me to make it happen. On a teacher’s salary it was hard to afford everything and some of the writer’s conferences I wanted to attend were prohibitively expensive. I think money was still kind of tight then for her, but she found ways to help. My birthday gifts were plane tickets or conference fees. Then she listened to me for hours after I came home. For a long time I had to write and teach—even my first contract was barely enough to keep me for a month. She would bring dinner to me a couple of times a week.”
“Any reason you didn’t live with her?” he asked.
“We wanted to be independent. I wanted to be independent, especially once I recovered from Dixon. But I chose a town house very close to her house. We talked at least twice a day, but we only saw each other two or three times a week. There were a few times we’d get together, kill a bottle of wine and I’d stay overnight rather than drive. We’d have a sleepover. That didn’t happen very often, not even once a month, but we were very compatible even though we didn’t live together by choice. We had our own routines; we needed our own space.”
“How was it when you eventually moved back in?” he asked.
“It wasn’t very long after she was diagnosed. She stopped getting around as well. She was fatigued. Maybe a little depressed. I didn’t think I’d lose her. But I wasn’t going to let anything happen to her. She didn’t need me as a caregiver; there was home health care. But I needed to be there, to go to doctor’s appointments, to make sure she wasn’t ever left lonely or afraid. She fell once in the bathroom in the night, and she wasn’t badly hurt, but I was so glad I was there. It was what was in my head, not hers. She was never afraid. She was all courage to the last. But I gave up my town house in October, moved some things into her garage and rented a storage unit for other stuff and moved into what had been my old room. I set up my office in a guest room. My mom still tried to work, to at least watch her company if she couldn’t run it. She hung on to that to the end, too.”
“And then...?”
“In December she had a meeting with her partner and the lawyers, finalized her will and her trust, arranged for her partner to buy her out. She said she was too weak to even advise and that she wanted to spend what time she had left with her family. By that time she had informed my father and he was starting to get in my way, wanting to be around all of a sudden. I told him to go spend all this newfound time and energy with all of his other families. That’s when I learned those other families had pretty much washed their hands of him. Apparently my mother was gracious and forgiving. She was classy. I’ll never be as classy. I’m kind of mean. I hold a grudge.”
He smiled at her. “You don’t have to.”
“Tell that to my grudge!”
They refilled the wine once and kept talking about the late, great Meredith, and Kaylee yawned a couple of times. Her lids threatened to close. He pulled her closer and asked a few soft questions while she leaned against him. What was your mother’s favorite celebration? Restaurant? Beach? Holiday? What was her favorite food? When were you most in awe of her? When did she make you angry?
She answered but she yawned.
“Kaylee, time for you to go to bed.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess it was the wine...”
“It’s the emotional exhaustion,” he said, standing and pulling her up, disturbing Tux, who looked unimpressed. “Let’s get you to bed. You’re going to sleep like a rock tonight.”
He held her hand and escorted her to the bedroom. He kissed her brow. “Thank you for sharing all those special things with me.”
She gave a huff of laughter. It had been so wonderful to have someone ask! She had wanted to talk about her mother and it always felt so awkward. She didn’t want to force her discomfort on people. “It felt good, I think.”
“It will feel good to sleep now,” he said.
“It also felt good to be held. Want to lie down here and hold each other a while longer?”
“That would be good.” He sat on the edge of the bed and took his shoes off. He lay down on the bed and pulled her closer. “Cuddle up here.”
She put her head on his shoulder and snuggled close. “This is much better.”
“Do you want to tell me one of your favorite memories? Or maybe tell me a story? Like the story of the book you’re writing?”
“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” she said, and she burrowed in. Her head rested on his shoulder and her leg was draped over his thighs. He had an arm around her, under her shoulders. She let a hand drift across his chest. “This is very nice. You cuddle very well. I’m sure you’ve been complimented many times.”
“Not that many.”
“Is there anything you need to talk about?” she asked.
“Not tonight,” he said.
She softly snored and he laughed.
“Sorry,” she said.
“No, please just let go. This is nice.”
So she did, floating off into a blissful nothingness. It was soft but blank. In her sleep she remembered her mother saying, Don’t worr
y. I have enough morphine in me to sink a ship. I’ll just go to sleep. I’ll always be with you, but I’ll be watching from a new perspective.
* * *
It was dark and Otis was snoring at the foot of the bed. Or maybe that was me, Landry thought. It might have been what had awakened him. But no, that wasn’t it. It was the movement of Kaylee’s hands, gently rubbing his chest. She was as close as she could be without lying right on top of him. He turned his head and his lips found her temple. He inhaled the fresh scent of her; it was soap, water and that which was Kaylee, the special scent that could belong to no one else.
He pressed his lips there. And damn, he sprang to life.
She squirmed against him and, lifting her lips, found his neck and then his chin and then his cheek. And he groaned.
They moved around a little bit, turning on their sides, and Landry found her lips. His arms were around her. His large hands grabbed her bottom, pulling her closer against him. Her arms mimicked, her hands on him. Her response was to open her lips slightly and his tongue explored. It brought a deep sigh from her. That just fueled his passion and he went after her mouth like a starving man. It had been so long and he had craved a deep taste of her from the first day he saw her.
He pulled away enough to kiss every last part of her face—her neck, her chin, cheeks, forehead, neck a little more. She put her leg over his to get closer, pushing against him right where his bulge drove them both a little crazy. He plunged his hands into the soft silkiness of her hair while he kissed her and loved the little sounds she made while he touched her and pressed against her.
“Okay,” he whispered. “Okay, are you sure you don’t just need a little comforting?”
“I’m sure I do,” she whispered. “And I also need a little of this.”
“You might regret it later,” he said.
“Why? Aren’t you planning to be good to me?”
“Oh, I’d like a chance to be very good to you. Listen, I don’t have protection.”
“I do,” she said. “Condoms. A little on the mature side. I keep a couple in my cosmetic bag, just to be careful, never really expecting to... They’ve been there quite a while. I don’t think I’d regret it. Will you?”
“Kaylee,” he said, brushing her hair back. “We’ve been good friends and I want to stay good friends. You have to be sure.”
She smiled at him. “I’m sure I’m not letting you go. You feel too good.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.”
“You aren’t going to make me beg, are you?”
A deep and low laugh rumbled out of him. “Go get those condoms. And make it quick.”
She rolled right over the top of him and was back before he had his shirt off. She put the packets by the side of the bed and climbed on him, straddling him. He rolled with her until they were again on their sides, clutching each other desperately, their mouths locked together in the never-ending kiss of lovers. Without breaking free for even a second, they pulled at each other’s clothes and when they were down to boxers and panties, they slowed. Their hands explored more carefully. He touched her whole body gently, tenderly, hungrily. She touched his, caressing his chest and flat belly, a hand sliding underneath the elastic waist of his boxers.
“Oh my God,” he said in a breath. And then he made her panties disappear. With great care, he parted her legs and touched her in her most vulnerable spot. It was amazing that that caused her to tighten her hand around him. “God,” he said again, going after her mouth, plunging his tongue deeply. His fingers moved slowly and more deeply into her. “Yeah, I think this is what you want.”
“I can’t remember ever wanting anything this much,” she said.
He rolled away, found one of the condoms and quickly applied it. Then he took her in his arms again. “I’ll try to slow down.”
“Don’t,” she said. “You can slow down later.”
He grinned into her pretty eyes. “In a hurry, are you?”
“No more talking,” she said. “Just doing.”
He laughed at her. She was cute; she was fun. He was on fire. He didn’t laugh anymore. He went to work on her with his fingers, with his tongue, more fingers. Then he rolled her on her back and took his place between her legs, entering her slowly. He groaned and she sighed. He held her hips and rocked with her, slowly at first and then a little faster but not too fast. He went deep and strong and he couldn’t keep his eyes open. He stroked her, giving it all he had, and when he felt her come, he held her tight against him. She made a gasping sound, clutching him desperately close.
They exploded together, holding on for dear life.
It was quite a while before their breathing calmed and their clutching relaxed. He rose above her. “That was amazing. You are amazing.”
“It was. I think that was probably the best sleeping pill I’ve ever had.”
“Think you’ll be able to rest now?” he asked.
“No question. You have to stay, of course.”
“I get up early.”
“I know.”
“Otis may request a trip outside and you don’t have a doggy door.”
“I understand. But don’t leave me until you absolutely have to. Even if I’m sleeping.”
“I’ll hate leaving you. If you need me for any reason in the night, just tap my shoulder,” he said.
Somewhere in the depth of night, she reached out to him and gave that shoulder a tap. He pulled her to him at once. Without a word, the only sounds their breathing and sighing and shuffling in the bed, he made love to her again. Again, it didn’t take very long before they were exploding together, left shuddering in satisfaction.
“This is the best night of my life,” he whispered.
“Same,” she said. And she fell back to sleep in his arms.
* * *
Like a poem or a song, the morning sun was brighter than ever before. The birds were more melodious. The sky far bluer than she’d seen. And her heart was exploding. Kaylee was filled with feelings that didn’t hurt.
She felt Landry slip from her side and heard him leave with Otis in the predawn. She smiled and allowed herself to go back to sleep. She wasn’t sure how much longer she slept but when her eyes opened, the sun was struggling to rise and shine, and Kaylee smelled coffee. She wrapped herself in a robe, brushed the knots out of her hair, pulled it back in a scrunchie and found her lover in the kitchen. He was drinking a cup of coffee and looking at his laptop. He put down his cup and held out an arm for her.
“Mm, I slept very well,” she said. “Very.”
“It was my pleasure,” he said. He tapped his laptop. “My morning news.”
“How’s the world looking this morning?” she asked.
“Despite the dire condition it’s been in lately, it’s never looked better.”
She poured her coffee and sat down across from him. “Funny, I woke up with just that feeling. Thank you for last night. For all of it, from the storytelling to the lovemaking. I feel brand-new.”
“You’re beautiful in the morning,” he said. “I wanted to be here when you woke but I don’t want to be a pest. I fed Tux and he’s already asleep. Can I make you some breakfast? And we can talk about our days?”
“I think I just had breakfast last night,” she said.
“Which is why I brought pancake mix. You have some berries. How does that sound?”
“Hm, I could get used to you,” she said.
“Let’s have some breakfast and go to our corners. I have a little work to do, you have work you’re supposed to do. And this afternoon I thought I’d drive over to the coast and around the hills—the leaves are at their peak. And it’s going to be a beautiful day. Want to come?”
“I do,” she said. “What time?”
“How does two sound? Does that give you enough time to get some work done?”
�
��Of course,” she said. But she thought the last thing she wanted was to work.
She felt the urge to burst into song.
When Landry had gone and the kitchen was cleaned up, she called Janette, the first person who came to mind. “It’s possible I’m falling in love,” she said. “With my landlord.”
“Well, now, that’s interesting. Is he falling in love right back?”
“I think so, yes. It’s early. Time will tell.”
“You have nothing but time, cookie,” she said. “Can I suggest you use that time to enjoy life? It seems you’ve been having some trouble doing that for a while. Obvious reasons.”
“Obvious,” Kaylee returned.
9
LIFE TOOK ON a glow for Kaylee. Every day was a bright and sunny day even when there were clouds in the sky. She saw Landry every day but not all day. They had coffee inside in the mornings now because it was getting very chilly outside and they drove around the countryside at least once a week, sometimes twice. They went to dinner on the coast, watched movies on his big-screen TV, had dinner together frequently and breakfast most mornings. They slept together every night. One of them always made the first overture: Do you need a night alone? Would you like to spend the night? Even if they didn’t make love like a couple of sex-starved bunnies, they held each other and murmured sweet, soft words during the night. But they also made love like sex-starved bunnies.
