The tableau was so perfect, Leslie couldn’t help herself. She pulled her phone from her pocket. “Hey,” she said sharply.
All three turned to look at her.
She snapped the picture.
Erica gasped. “That’s just mean. If that shows up anywhere online, you’re going to pay.” She pointed the bag of icing at her like a gun.
Leslie laughed. She’d never do that. The picture was only for her. She moved behind them and watched over Erica’s shoulder as Erica returned her focus to her task.
“I’m almost finished,” Erica said. She drew a white B in the speech bubble coming from the ghost on the chocolate frosted cake. A smear of icing, similar to the one Gus had licked from Siena’s face, adorned her cheek.
Leslie was so close…All she’d have to do is turn her head to lick it from Erica’s creamy skin. She wanted to so badly, considered it briefly, but of course, she wouldn’t. They were friends.
How many times since their talk two months earlier had she had to remind herself of that? Too many to count. She’d truly believed her attraction to Erica would wear off, that once they’d agreed anything other than friendship was off the table, it wouldn’t be a struggle. And it wasn’t always. Much of the time, when they were all watching a movie, or having dinner, or she and Erica were helping each other work something through, she felt genuine affection and caring, but she wasn’t fighting her attraction to her or lusting after her. Every once in a while, though—okay, maybe more than once in a while—a moment like this would spark something and tempt her to try something outside the boundary of friendship. But most of the time…
Erica finished the word Boo and straightened. She bumped into Leslie. “I’m sorry,” she said, her face flushing. “I didn’t know you were—”
“Taste the frosting,” Siena said. “It’s really good.” She grabbed Erica’s hand and pulled it to Leslie’s mouth.
Erica’s fingertips were coated in chocolate. “No, Siena, it’s—”
“She’ll like it.” Siena pressed Erica’s fingers to Leslie’s lips.
Without thinking, Leslie opened, then sucked gently. Her pulse quickened and throbbed softly between her legs. She fought to keep from squeezing her thighs together, to hold back a quiet moan, at the feel of Erica’s fingers in her mouth. It only lasted a split second, but for that split second, she had no choice but to admit she wasn’t thinking of Erica as a friend.
Their eyes met, and Erica pulled her fingers free.
“Isn’t that the best frosting you’ve ever had?” Siena asked with excitement.
Leslie cleared her throat. “It most definitely is,” she said, turning to Siena.
In the same instant, Erica reached around, scooped up the bowl, and put it in the sink. “Okay, we need to get cleaned up and into our costumes, if we’re going to get to the carnival in time to man our booth. You’re sticky,” she said to Siena. “And you…” She ran her gaze over Leslie. “Are dirty and sweaty.”
Was there a matching hint of Leslie’s arousal in Erica’s eyes? “That’s right. Clean up,” Leslie said. “I’m going to go get a shower. I’ll be back to help carry all this to the car.” She drew in a deep breath, still savoring the taste of chocolate and the feel of Erica on her tongue. She needed a shower. A cold one.
Four hours later, Leslie, Erica, and Siena were stationed in the beanbag toss booth and had a line of waiting customers. The carnival grounds, also known as the playground of the children’s center, was filled with people of all ages there to have a good time. The smell of popcorn, cotton candy, and hotdogs wafted in the air, and “Monster Mash” and other favorite Halloween tunes from the cakewalk added to the atmosphere.
Siena positioned herself beside the wooden cut out of the witch with the large hole for the mouth and two smaller ones for eyes, so she could retrieve the beanbags and return them to Leslie for the next player. She’d wanted to help, but hadn’t wanted to have to interact with all of the strangers. She was doing a great job. Erica collected the tickets, while Leslie monitored the actual tosses and cajoled and chatted with everyone. She flashed back to earlier years, particularly the first few when both the center and the carnival were new. Both were much bigger now, having grown substantially over the years, and Leslie felt a sense of pride and a deep rush of love for her mother and the compassion and vision she’d had.
As she surveyed her surroundings, she found Erica watching her. When she tipped her head in question, Erica only smiled.
The Kanga costume Siena had picked out for Erica, to go with Siena’s Roo, was twisted a little to one side, allowing Erica to sit comfortably on the low bench of the booth, rather than on the big lump of her kangaroo tail. She looked perfectly content.
Leslie’s Winnie the Pooh costume was bulky and heavy, but she was happy to wear it for the smile it’d brought to Siena. Siena even had Nell dressed as Tigger and Paula walking around somewhere as Piglet. Both seemed to have fallen just as hard for Siena as Leslie had. How could they not? Leslie glanced at Siena, watching her collect the beanbags the current contestant had thrown, with Gus’s help, then took them from her as she approached. “You want to give our winner his prize?” she asked her.
“No,” Siena said. “I’m hungry. Can I have a hotdog, please?”
“Sure,” Leslie said. She turned to the teenage boy who’d just made a perfect throw into the witch’s mouth. “Would you like a prize, or would you like to buy three more chances? If you do it again, you can upgrade your prize. And if you make it into one of her eyes, you get two upgrades.”
The boy grinned and nodded. “I’ll take three more.” He walked away a few minutes later with a giant Mr. Goodbar and a huge smile.
“I’m still hungry,” Siena called from behind the cutout.
The line to their booth had dwindled, and there seemed to be a lull. “Okay. Want to go with me?”
“No. Thank you.” The second part seemed to be an afterthought. “I’ll stay with Gus. Nell says he has to stay in our booth.”
“I’ll go get it,” Erica said, stepping up beside Leslie. She’d been unusually quiet all evening.
“That’s okay.” Leslie smiled. “I think I’ll have an easier time maneuvering through the crowd.” She took hold of the end of Erica’s tail and wiggled it to make her point. “You want something to eat or drink?”
“I’ve seen nachos going by all evening. Can you hunt those down?” Erica gave her a playful look.
“I can, and I will.” Leslie sat on the table at the front of the booth and swung her legs over it. “I’ll be back,” she said in her best Terminator voice.
“Hey, where you going?” Nell called as she approached the booth.
“To hunt the mighty nacho,” Leslie called back. “Help Erica and Siena.”
As she made her way back through the crowd from the refreshment area, she noticed Molly talking with a couple of the other board members and Stacey, the after-school program coordinator. She tried to avert her gaze before she was spotted, but was a nanosecond too slow.
They all waved.
Leslie could only send them a return nod while balancing a nacho boat on top of two hotdogs in one hand and two stacked canned sodas in the other.
Molly hurried over. “Would you like some help?”
“Oh, I think I’ve got it,” Leslie said, knowing it wasn’t going to work.
Molly took the nachos and one soda. “There. That should make it easier.” She smiled.
“Thanks.” Leslie wasn’t sure what Molly could want, other than her usual badgering of trying to get Leslie on the board for the next term. She’d already tried twice since Leslie had moved home. She waited.
Molly simply looked around as they walked. “This is a great turnout,” she said. “I think that new website you made for us is making a difference. I’d like to put ticket sales for the annual dinner fundraiser on it. Would that be difficult?”
“Not at all,” Leslie said, surprised. “Just send me the info and let me know wh
en you want sales to start, and I’ll get it done.”
Molly gave her a bright smile. “I’ll do that right away. Thank you.”
At the booth, Erica was in a conversation with Nell and Paula as a family moved away with their prizes.
“Are you running off all our business?” Leslie asked Nell jokingly as she climbed back into the booth.
“I’ll have you know we’ve been busy the whole time you were gone,” Nell said. “It’s only now that you’re back we don’t have any customers.”
Erica and Paula laughed.
“Enough, you two.” Paula turned to Molly. “Hi, Molly. How are you?”
“I’m well, thank you. Thank you for all your help today. I’ve heard you’ve been here since this morning.”
Paula gave a nonchalant wave of her hand. “For better, for worse. For richer, for poorer. At carnivals and at home.”
Everyone chuckled.
“And I don’t think we’ve met,” Molly said to Erica. “I’m Molly Snowe, the president of the board for the center.” She held out her hand.
“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry,” Leslie said with a sputter. “Erica, this is Molly, as she said. And Molly, this is my friend, Erica Cooper. She volunteered to donate a bunch of baked goods and to work the booth with me all night.”
Erica shook Molly’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you. This has been so much fun. It seems like a pretty successful fundraiser.”
“Yes, it does very well, especially since we own all our own booths and equipment and don’t have to rent a space. Most of what we make is profit. And I was just telling Leslie how much of a difference I think the new website she put up for us made.” She ran her hand up Leslie’s arm.
“That’s wonderful,” Erica said with a smile.
“Our big moneymaker, however, is our annual dinner and dance coming up next month. A lot of our more affluent supporters attend and are very generous. It’s always a nice evening, with a gourmet meal and dancing afterward. We try to make it as elegant as we can.”
“It sounds lovely,” Erica said. “I can’t remember the last time I went dancing.”
“You should come,” Nell said, her Tigger tail bouncing behind her. “You can be Leslie’s date. Can’t she?”
Leslie’s heart leapt. “Sure.” She tried to remain casual, but the thought of dancing with Erica in her arms made it difficult. “If you want, I mean. It’s kind of a stuffy affair.”
“Only if you’re comfortable with it,” Erica said, adorably shy for some reason. “I don’t want to horn in or anything.”
“No, not at all,” Leslie said, trying to figure out what was happening. “You know I wouldn’t feel that way.”
“Well, whatever you decide,” Molly said, interrupting, “know that Leslie will also be with me part of the evening, schmoozing with some of our donors who are very anxious to meet the daughter of our founder.” She was touching Leslie’s arm again, this time slipping her hand down to Leslie’s and squeezing it. She was always so touchy.
Normally, Leslie didn’t think much of it. Tonight, though, it irritated her. She didn’t want Erica to get the wrong—Friends. We’re just friends.
“Remember?” Molly turned to Leslie. “You promised.” Then in evident surprise, she shifted her gaze past her. “Who’s this?” she asked with a smile.
Siena stepped up to Leslie and pressed against her.
Leslie pulled her hand from Molly’s. “This is Siena, Erica’s daughter.”
“Well, hello there, Siena. I’m Molly. Are you having fun tonight?”
Siena considered her briefly, then moved forward. “Hello,” she said. “My name is Siena Cooper. It’s nice to meet you.” She held out her hand.
Leslie could feel Molly’s glance flicker over her, but she was too proud of Siena to acknowledge anything else. She gave Siena a smile and a wink.
Molly shook Siena’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, too, honey.” She turned back to the adults. “Well, I should start bringing this evening to a close. If you’ll excuse me. Erica, it was wonderful meeting you and your daughter.”
Erica clearly wasn’t listening. She was beaming at Siena.
After a chorus of good nights from the rest, Molly drifted away.
“And I should go oversee the counting out of the money,” Nell said. “We’ve been doing it periodically throughout the night, but we’ll need to do a final tally.”
“I’ll be over soon,” Paula said to Nell. “I’m going to stay and help here for a while, so these three can eat their dinners.” She moved to take the tickets of a young couple that had just stepped up to play.
“Thanks, Paula.” Leslie slid Siena’s hotdog and a 7 Up down the table to her where she’d settled on the bench Erica had been sitting on. “Ketchup only,” she said with a proud grin. “You did great with that introduction.” Then she unwrapped her own dog and took a bite. From the corner of her eye, she saw Erica take her phone from the pouch of her Kanga costume, look at it, then frown. “Something wrong?”
Erica licked some cheese off her fingers, then started a series of taps on the screen. She shook her head. “It’s Trent. He’s at the airport.”
The flutter of arousal in Leslie’s abdomen at the memory of the feel of Erica’s fingers in her mouth was dowsed at the mention of Trent’s arrival. “Did you know he was coming?”
Erica sighed. “He’s been saying he was coming for weeks, but he kept canceling. Now, when he hasn’t mentioned it at all, he’s here.”
“Oh.” Leslie stifled the flare of what she had to admit was jealousy and tried for a more mature reaction. “Do you need to go get him? I can finish up here.” They’d brought both of their cars to the carnival in case the crowd, or noise, or anything else, set Siena off and Erica needed to take her home.
“No.” Erica returned her phone to her pouch and picked up another cheese-drenched chip. “He can take an Uber to the house. I told him we were busy and we’d be home in a while. There’s no rush.”
Erica’s indifference to Trent’s arrival soothed Leslie’s emotions. It was ridiculous for her to be jealous, even if there were still something between Erica and Trent, which Erica had said there wasn’t. She had no right, no claim on Erica, no place in her life that warranted such a response. If anything, if Erica wanted to start something with Trent again—or with anyone else—as Erica’s friend, she should support her in whatever would make her happy. Yeah, right. Like she could actually do that. She was grateful this situation didn’t call for that from her. But what about when that day came?
“So Molly’s interesting,” Erica said, blessedly breaking into Leslie’s thoughts.
“Molly?” Leslie glanced across the grounds in the direction Molly had departed. “I guess. I don’t know her that well.” She took a bite of her hotdog and chewed.
“It’s pretty clear she’d like to get to know you better,” Erica said, something sparking in her eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“She’s obviously interested—all that touching and her flirtatious tone,” Erica said with a shrug.
“No,” Leslie said, trying to sound dismissive. This was exactly what she hadn’t wanted to happen. “She’s just like that. She’s one of those people that touches everyone a lot.” Even if she and Erica were just friends, she didn’t want her thinking there was anything between her and Molly. Damn it! If she didn’t get a handle on her feelings, this friend thing was going to be hard.
Paula scoffed from behind Leslie. “I’ve known her for years, and she doesn’t touch me.”
Leslie turned to her and lifted one eyebrow. “She doesn’t?”
“No, sweetheart, she doesn’t.” Paula laughed. “You’ll have to forgive Leslie,” she said to Erica. “She can be obtuse when it comes to realizing someone is interested in her.” She returned her gaze to Leslie and tipped her head slightly in Erica’s direction.
Leslie stared at her. What is she doing?
“All right,” Paula said, sounding deflated.
“I’ll leave you two then. I need to make sure Nell didn’t get talking and wander off from what she’s supposed to be doing. Otherwise, we’ll be here all night. Erica, it was very nice seeing you. We’ll all have to get together again soon.”
Erica smiled. “That would be great. I think it’s my turn to host dinner. Check your calendar and text me a few dates you and Nell are free.”
A little girl and her mother stopped in front of the booth, and Leslie bailed on the rest of the conversation to take their tickets.
On the drive home, as she followed Erica’s taillights, she considered the evening. It’d been fun, but why had Erica been so quiet? Was she upset about what had happened with the frosting? Leslie never should have done what she did. Erica hadn’t seemed upset at the time, though. In fact, from the look in her eyes, just the opposite. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe Erica had been affected the same way and as strongly as Leslie had been; maybe Erica’s attraction to Leslie wasn’t fading either; maybe after the fact, Erica was mad at Leslie for crossing their agreed upon boundary.
Leslie wished they could talk when they got home, after Siena was in bed, but Trent was there. Surely, he and Erica would have things to discuss. Even if they didn’t, it’d be rude for her and Erica to have a private conversation with him there. Any talk they might be having would have to wait, but at the very least, Leslie owed Erica an apology.
Chapter Thirteen
Erica stepped into her laundry room from the garage and heard voices. Voices? The TV? No, one of them was Trent’s. The other, a woman’s. The smell of coffee filled the air.
Caffeine never keeps Trent awake. What an odd thought to have. A more fitting one for this situation might have been: Surely, Trent knows better than to bring a total stranger into the house without allowing for Siena to be prepared. But no, Trent didn’t know better, because he’d either never paid attention to the things that could trigger Siena, or he simply remained in denial about anything to do with Siena’s autism. The truth was probably both, depending on the moment.
A Wish Upon a Star Page 18
