A Wish Upon a Star

by Jeannie Levig

  Leslie shook her head. “I thought there was still time. I had to go out of town to a conference, and when I got back, they were gone. All their clothes, Elijah’s toys, anything that was strictly Cassie’s—all gone.” Her voice broke. “And I never saw him again.”

  Erica sprang from the couch and rushed to her. She reached her just as Leslie began to cry and took her in her arms.

  Leslie resisted at first, then relented. She leaned into Erica and gripped her in a hard hug.

  Erica brought Leslie’s head to her shoulder, tenderly stroking her hair. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  Leslie let Erica hold her, let her comfort her as she cried, for longer than Erica would have thought, but then she stepped back and turned away. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry,” she said, sounding stuffy. “It’s been a long time…I’m sorry.”

  Erica pulled a couple of tissues from a box on one of the shelves in the entertainment center and handed them to Leslie. “No need to be. You’ve been through a lot.”

  Leslie swiped them over her face, then blew her nose. “You know, I think I’m past it, and then all of a sudden…”

  “I don’t know that I’d ever get past something like that.” Erica watched Leslie. She was looking at something on one of the shelves. “If someone took Siena from me…” She realized Leslie was studying a picture of her, Siena, and Trent. She took in a sharp breath of realization. “That’s why you pulled back, why we haven’t seen you. Because of how close you were getting to Siena. And because Siena and I and Trent look like them, as a family.”

  Leslie clenched her jaw, as though fighting back more tears.

  “Leslie,” Erica said quietly. She pressed her fingertips to Leslie’s cheek and coaxed her to face her. “I’d never do that. I’d never interfere with your friendship with Siena. I can see how important you’ve become to her, how deeply she’s connected with you, and that seldom happens for her. I can see how much you care about her. I promise, I wouldn’t—”

  “I know,” Leslie said. “I don’t realistically think you would. It’s just…Ever since I moved in next door and started getting to know you and Siena, I have these moments when it feels like Elijah and Cassie all over again, and I don’t want that pain.” She choked on the words. “But here it is anyway, even when I tried to get away.” She shook her head.

  With a gentle sweep of her thumb, Erica brushed some moisture Leslie had missed from her cheek. “How about if you feel that way again, you tell me, and I can assure you that Siena isn’t going anywhere. Can you do that?”

  Gratitude filled Leslie’s eyes, and she nodded. “I can do that. Thank you.” She hesitated, then shifted her gaze to some abstract point over Erica’s shoulder. “Before we get all caught up in a Kumbaya moment, there’s something else I need to tell you. So everything’s out on the table.”

  “Okay,” Erica said slowly. “That sounds ominous.”

  “Not really. It’s just something I think you should know before we make any decisions about how things are going to be.” Leslie looked around the room, as though seeking an escape. “Can we go outside? I need some air.”

  “Sure,” Erica said, curious. “Would you like me to warm up your tea?”

  “No, thank you. That’s okay.” Leslie rubbed her stomach. “I’m still full from dinner, and…you know…nerves.”

  There’s still something to be nervous about? “Okay.” Erica picked up the monitor from the coffee table but left her own cup as well. On the patio, she led the way to the swing. It was more comfortable than the chairs around the table, and the lighting in the corner was dimmer, though still enough to see one another. It might make it easier for Leslie to say whatever else she had to say.

  When they were settled, Leslie sat silently for a long moment. She stared across the yard, her focus on her pool, so prettily lit and inviting in the warm evening air.

  Erica remembered sitting in that very spot and watching Leslie undress, then dive gracefully into the water. She wondered if that was what Leslie was thinking about, too. A hot blush crept up her neck from her chest and into her face. She was grateful for the shadows where they sat.

  “I could ease into this, but I think I’m just going to say it.” Leslie turned to look at her. “Rip the Band-Aid off, so to speak.”

  “Oh! Is it going to be painful?” Erica was turned toward Leslie, her legs crossed at the knees. She noticed Leslie glance down at her partially bare thighs.

  Leslie shook her head slightly. “I don’t think so.” She kept her gaze lowered. “Maybe a little for me, but not for you.”

  What on earth can this be about? And if it was going to hurt her at all, why would she do it at the same time as telling Erica everything else she’d shared tonight? “Should I get the Neosporin?” Erica asked, trying to lighten the mood. It worked.

  Leslie laughed. “That won’t be necessary.” She looked directly into Erica’s eyes, her expression soft, maybe a bit sad. She studied Erica’s face, as though memorizing it. She lingered on Erica’s mouth.

  Involuntarily, Erica found herself looking at Leslie’s. It seemed only fair. She couldn’t help but wonder what that plump lower lip would feel like caught gently between her teeth. Her blood went hot at the thought. She jerked her attention back to Leslie’s eyes to find her staring questioningly at her.

  Leslie looked out across the yard again. “Okay, I need to do this.” She took in a gulp of air. “Erica, I’m really attracted to you. You’re so beautiful and smart and interesting. And I feel like there could be something between us…maybe.” She tipped her head back and clenched her eyes shut. “Christ, I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this. When you came over the other night all fired up and Mama Bear after I hadn’t seen you in so long, all I wanted to do was kiss you. And tonight, when I first saw you in that skirt and blouse…I could have taken you right there on the floor. But I know that can’t happen. We can’t be that…I can’t be that. It would feel too much, seem too much, like Cassie and Elijah. Even though I never had those kind of feelings for Cassie, it’s how we lived. And even if you were attracted to me, which I don’t think you are, I feel like we’re becoming friends—good friends—and I don’t want to risk that. Plus, I can’t put myself in a position where I freak out at the slightest hint of feeling that pain again. That’s not fair to anyone, least of all, Siena.”

  The words came at Erica in a rush. She was stuck, though, on the beginning. Attracted to you…so beautiful…wanted to kiss you…could have taken you. She had to listen to the rest, though, had to hear the rest. Can’t do it…freak out…friends.

  Leslie was still talking. “I don’t want to blow this. I enjoy doing things with you and Siena so much. I don’t want to risk that. I’ll handle my feelings, and they’ll pass. I promise. You don’t have to do anything, or change anything. I just wanted you to know, like with the stuff about Elijah and Cassie, in case I need a little space sometimes.” She lifted her face to the night sky, then swallowed. “But if I ever go too far again, if I’m hurting Siena, I want you to promise you’ll come get me, like you did the other night.”

  Erica’s throat closed with emotion. She was moved by Leslie’s honesty, her willingness to lay out her feelings and fears so naked and exposed, to be so vulnerable. She examined Leslie’s profile. “I will. I promise.” She wanted to reach out and touch her, slip her fingers into her hair. But that wouldn’t offer Leslie any comfort right now. Leslie looked, and probably felt, so raw and open after everything she’d shared about Elijah, and now this. Erica had to respond in kind, had to share something equally as significant. She had to be as vulnerable.

  It wasn’t as though she had to dig very deep for what to share. She had her own feelings for Leslie, her own baggage that would make things difficult if they tried to explore anything, her own fears—for herself and Siena—of being left behind. She wasn’t used to that level of openness, but she owed it to Leslie, to the friendship they, apparently, were going to
try to have. “Well,” she said slowly. She stretched her arm across the back of the swing seat and tilted her head to take in the stars. “If it helps, you’re not alone in all this.”

  Leslie turned to face her. “I’m not?”

  Erica met her gaze and shook her head. She gave herself a brief pause to take in Leslie’s features one more time, then sighed. “I’m very attracted to you, too. I have been since the day we met. I even considered a fling, or a quick one-nighter with you, but with you living right next door…Besides, now I know that would never have been enough. I would have needed more of you once I got a taste. It’d be too tempting with you so close.”

  Leslie arched an eyebrow. “Really? You never let on.”

  “Neither did you,” Erica said, surprised at how easy this conversation felt. “Besides, I was sure if there’d been even a flicker of interest on your part, it would have been completely extinguished after cleaning up after me so many times when I was sick.”

  Leslie chuckled. “That wasn’t that bad. It needed to be done. The only thing it did do was make me feel…I don’t know…like I had a place with you and Siena. Like a family, which then kicked up all my other stuff I told you about. It was the feeling and the fear that made me run, not the act of taking care of the two of you.”

  “And you running and cutting yourself off from us kicked up my stuff about no one sticking around because life with Siena—then compounded with anything additional like me getting sick—is too much.” She thought it all through briefly. “Wow, we’d be a train wreck as a couple.”

  “You really believe that?” Leslie sat up and shifted around in her seat. “That you and Siena are too hard?”

  Erica shrugged. “Yes.” She had to admit it. “Becky says it’s because I believe it that I push any possibility of an intimate relationship away. That’s why I’m glad I didn’t act on my attraction to you when we first met. Had we slept together, I would have cut you off afterward—if Becky is right—and Siena and I wouldn’t be able to be friends with you now.”

  Leslie smirked. “I don’t know how much stock you can put in Becky.” There was an obvious teasing lilt to her tone. “She thinks I could be a porn star at fifty-three.”

  “She didn’t say star,” Erica said in Becky’s defense. “Although…from what I saw…” She quirked an eyebrow. Oh my God! She was flirting again. Hadn’t they just decided they’d be friends, nothing more? Could friends flirt?

  “That’s right.” Leslie glanced at her pool area, then back to Erica. “I’d forgotten. You still owe me.”

  Apparently, friends could. They laughed.

  “Seriously, though,” Leslie said gently. “Yes, Siena’s different, and someone would have to make an effort to learn how to interact with her, but you really can’t think there’s no one who would.”

  Erica’s cheeks heated with embarrassment. She hoped Leslie couldn’t see her that well in the darkness. “It’s been hard not to, since Trent’s reaction to Siena’s ASD—and even now her behavior sometimes. And most of our friends vanished, and even though I do know that can happen when you have a baby and your friends don’t, I still wonder if that’s the real reason. Even my relationship with my mother changed after Siena’s diagnosis. She didn’t disappear, but we do see her less, and she stopped making much of an effort.”

  “Is she Grandma Millie who died and probably doesn’t poop anymore?” Leslie asked thoughtfully. “Or is she the grandma with wrinkles who sits in the front living room when she comes, where only people who don’t belong here sit?”

  Erica buried her face in her hands. “Oh my God. I don’t want to imagine the things you’ve heard from talking with Siena.”

  “Let’s see,” Leslie said, laughter in her voice. “I know you don’t like Siena talking about poop, or wee-wee, or vomit at the dinner table. I heard that you hate throwing up, though I did get my own firsthand experience of that one. Oh, and I heard it didn’t matter to you that dogs eat their own vomit; you still didn’t want one, because you didn’t want to clean up after it. You’re lucky Gus forgave you for that one.”

  Erica couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “I heard the colors of your camellias are so pretty because Hazel the goldfish is buried underneath the bush, and that Trent’s poop is the stinkiest of everyone’s.”

  This one drew out a full laugh. “It really is,” Erica said conspiratorially. “I don’t know what the man eats.”

  A warm smile lit Leslie’s face. “You don’t need to worry about anything Siena tells me, especially about you. I like hearing about you. I particularly like it from Siena. She’s so certain of you. It’s evident she knows you’re always there for her.”

  “That’s nice to know,” Erica said, ignoring the flutter that Leslie’s interest in her caused. We are friends. “Things like that aren’t always clear when she’s mad at me for making her do something on her own.”

  “I think that’s a hard call with any child, knowing when to step in and when to let them learn from their own experience.” There was a wistfulness in Leslie’s voice. It was clear she was thinking of Elijah.

  “You seem very good at that. I’ve seen it with Siena.” Erica wasn’t sure whether to press the topic of Elijah. The earlier discussion had obviously taken a toll on Leslie. Now that things were settled between them, there’d be time for more talking later.

  “Thank you,” Leslie said with a note of closure. “So what are your plans for the weekend? Any chance you and Siena might want to join me and Gus for a barbecue?”

  “That sounds nice. I try to keep the weekends focused around home,” Erica said, going with the shift. “As busy as the weekdays get, it’s good for Siena to have some down time. It doesn’t hurt me any either.”

  “I’d like to invite Nell and her wife, Paula, too. Would that still work?”

  And just like that, they were back on neutral ground, the deeper discussions and confessions tucked away.

  Erica smirked, remembering the note Nell left Leslie about her. “I’d love to meet Nell, director of the Raymond Children’s Center, matchmaker, and mysterious magician.” She chuckled. “Siena’s still trying to figure out how a quarter got in her ear.”

  “Nell could keep her entertained for hours,” Leslie said. “She’s great with kids.”

  “Do you know which day you want the barbecue? Becky and I were going to do lunch or a movie on Sunday.” Erica realized that would be moot if she didn’t remember to make some calls to backup sitters the next day. Rachel, Siena’s favorite, wasn’t available. “That is, if I can find someone Siena likes to watch her. I used to be able to leave her with Jack and the kids, but ever since the puzzle incident, Siena doesn’t want to be around Rosi at all.”

  “She can stay with me,” Leslie said without hesitation. “We haven’t had any time together since you were sick. We can catch up. Maybe give Gus a bath. He’s due for one.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Erica said, grateful for the offer but not wanting to take advantage. “You have to be back to some kind of work schedule by now, I’m sure.”

  Leslie shrugged. “I work mostly at night. My creative juices flow better when it’s dark and quiet.”

  “How will you get any work done with that snake hanging above your head?” Erica asked teasingly. She pictured the jungle that was now Leslie’s living room. She couldn’t believe she’d done that for Siena.

  “Kaa? He’s my buddy.” Leslie’s tone was childlike. “He proofread over my shoulder last night while I finished the layout of the text. It really sped things along.”

  Erica laughed. She’d been so irritated with Leslie the past week, she’d almost forgotten how much she enjoyed her. She’d missed her.

  “I’m serious about Siena staying with me on Sunday. We can do the barbecue tomorrow,” Leslie went on.

  “Are you sure?” Erica asked hesitantly.

  “Positive. You and Siena take care of Gus for me,” Leslie said with a hint of humor. “Let me repay you.”r />
  Erica considered the comparison. “Actually, I think Gus takes care of us.”

  “Well, yes. That could be. I think Gus takes care of all of us.” Leslie was watching her, clearly waiting for an answer to her offer.

  “If you’re sure,” Erica said.

  “I am,” Leslie said definitively. “It’s what friends do, right? You and Becky go have fun for a while.”

  Erica paused, meeting Leslie’s gaze, then dipped her head in ascent. An agreement had been forged—they were friends. But she couldn’t deny a twinge of sadness at the loss of the possibility of anything more.

  Chapter Twelve

  Leslie tossed her keys onto the bar and headed out her back door to see how close Erica and Siena were to being ready to go. She’d spent the past five hours at the Raymond Children’s Center, helping with the setup for the annual Halloween carnival, while Erica and Siena stayed home to decorate the pumpkin-shaped sugar cookies for the bake sale and make a marble fudge cake for the cakewalk.

  The carnival was one of the regular fundraisers for the center. More importantly, it was a lot of fun for all the kids being housed there and the foster families connected with the center. It’d always been Leslie’s favorite event. She’d scheduled her visits home to coincide with it from time to time for the sake of all the fond memories it held. Although she’d been home for three months now, spending the afternoon with Nell, Paula, and some of the board members and staff she’d known for years anchored her in that sense of home. All that was missing were her parents.

  “Hola, amigas,” she called as she opened Erica’s sliding glass door.

  Gus wriggled between her feet and made a mad dash for the kitchen.

  “Gus!” Siena squealed.

  “In here,” Erica called.

  The scent of baked goods, butter, and sugar tickled Leslie’s nose. “Something smells great.” She came to an abrupt halt at the scene in the kitchen.

  Siena stood on a chair, her arms wrapped around Gus, who’d jumped up beside her and was licking what looked like chocolate frosting off her cheek. Erica, in a pair of ratty blue jeans and a threadbare, faded black T-shirt, was hunched over a cake pan on the counter, squirting icing from a pastry bag. Six plates of cookies covered in plastic wrap, each topped with a grinning jack-o’-lantern, peppered the second countertop.