The Thousand Mile Love Story

by Natalie Vivien

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  Everything hurt in the kind of way that seemed like a great and godly punishment. Andee couldn’t even crack her eyes into slits, because when she did, far too much light poured into them and burned her retinas.

  “Oh, my God,” she muttered, her voice gravelly.

  “Rise and shine, darlin’!” called Tiffany triumphantly, and then there was the sound of curtains being pulled back. Followed by an assault of sunshine. Andee thought her head would explode.

  “Oh…” After a full minute of torture and pain and suffering, Andee realized that if it hurt this much, her head must still be intact. She opened her eyes to slits again and groaned as Tiffany knelt down by the side of the bed. She could just make out how wide Tiffany’s grin was before she groaned again.

  “Rise and shiiiiiine,” Tiffany sang as loudly as possible into Andee’s ear.

  “I hate you,” said Andee softly, working on making the words audible. “So much.”

  “I’m not the one who drank the club out of vodka,” said Tiffany sweetly and completely insincerely. “I’d ask how you’re feeling, but it’s kind of obvious. But we’ve gotta get going, And, so I’ve made you my famous hangover cure!”

  “Oh, my God. Please go away,” said Andee, pulling the blankets up higher over her head, but in a cruel heartbeat, they were snatched away and dragged off of her. It’s not as if the room was cold, but Andee had been clinging to the warmth of those blankets, and she now felt bereft without them. “Give them back,” she cried, in what she realized was a completely pathetic voice. She opened her eyes enough to see that Tiffany was folding the blankets, a grin of glee over her face.

  “For someone who got carried back to her room by a lady knight in shining armor, you’re pretty whiny and ungrateful,” said Tiffany, her head to the side as her lips curled up at the corners. She was starting to resemble the Grinch when he had a very evil plan.

  “What?” said Andee, and then, all in a rush, she remembered. “Oh, my God.” She sat up, dread coiling in the pit of her stomach. What exactly had she told Robin last night? She could almost remember… She definitely remembered feeling vulnerable when she’d said it, pouring her heart out to Robin… Andee took a deep breath, exhaled, closing her eyes. Yes. She was pretty sure she’d poured her whole heart out to Robin.

  Great.

  “Well, this is going to be awkward,” said Andee, turning around and burying her face in her pillow.

  “Oh, awkward,” said Tiffany, waving her hand and rolling her eyes as she advanced on Andee again, obviously intending to remove the last piece of comfort Andee had: her pillow. “Nothing’s awkward between lovers,” said Tiffany, glee dripping all over the last word.

  “We’re not lovers,” sighed Andee, slumping back on the bed and looking up at Tiffany. Tiffany, with her red hair bound in two neat braids that were, in five minutes, probably not going to be neat at all. Tiffany, with her triumphant smile that said, clearly, she was overjoyed at Andee’s late-night confession.

  “Lovers is maybe a bit old-fashioned, I concede,” said Tiffany, crossing her arms as she sat down on the edge of Andee’s bed. “Girlfriends, then.”

  No, Andee and Robin weren’t girlfriends.

  Yet.

  It kind of looked like it was headed in that direction, though.

  Andee stared up at the ceiling, her intense headache, the waves of nausea and the feeling of imminent death fading away into the background.

  She’d poured her heart out to Robin last night.

  And Robin had carried her back to her room.

  And had not spoken a word to her. Not that she could remember. A sinking feeling filled Andee’s heart as she sat up, her head whirling.

  “Where is Robin?” said Andee, a hand to her forehead.

  “At breakfast,” said Tiffany, leaning back on the bed as she cast a sidelong smirk at Andee. “And getting you breakfast, if I recall. And getting me the ingredients for my famous hangover cure.”

  “And Jill?” winced Andee. She wished dearly that Tiffany would close the blinds on the window.

  “Oh, she’s in bed with a new lady friend,” said Tiffany, gazing down at her fresh coat of fingernail polish. Today’s color was the same cobalt blue that had started the trip. She grinned sidelong at Andee again as she watched her words sink in.

  “Oh,” said Andee, lying back down on the bed. “Oh,” she repeated, raising her eyebrows to Tiffany.

  “I don’t know what happened, but at least Jill’s made a step toward the healing process,” said Tiffany with a chuckle, standing. A knock came from the little bedroom door, and she trotted over in her heels to answer it.

  And Robin stood there, balancing a big silver tray with a bright blue teapot and a cup and saucer that looked antique. There was also a bowl of oatmeal and some fresh fruit and a little mug of cream and a tall glass filled with… Andee gulped. Eggs. Raw eggs. She could only imagine what Tiffany’s hangover cure entailed…

  But what was on the tray didn’t really matter, because Robin had a grim and determined look on her face. Andee gazed up at her, silent.

  “If we could have just a minute, Tiff,” said Robin softly. Tiffany glanced from Andee to Robin and back again, and then she shrugged.

  “Sure! But we’ve got to push off soon,” said Tiffany. She trotted past Robin into the hallway.

  Robin shut the door behind her.

  Andee breathed in and out, rubbed her hand over her eyes and sat up straighter in bed. She was currently wearing her octopus pajamas, but it didn’t really seem like the time to be worrying about her dignity, since Robin might have changed her into them last night.

  Robin set the tray down on the other queen bed in the room, next to a sleeping black cat that Andee hadn’t even noticed was there. The cat looked up at Robin muzzily and yawned, stretching out its paw to touch the edge of the tray before going back to sleep. A faint purr filled the room.

  Robin knelt down in front of Andee again, gazing up into her eyes with her own clear blue ones. Andee melted under that steady gaze, and she sighed, reaching across the space between them, taking Robin’s hands in her own.

  “Do you remember what happened last night?” said Robin, then. The words were cautious, and she frowned as she said them.

  Miserably, Andee nodded.

  “Do you remember what you said last night?” said Robin.

  Andee nodded again, gulping down air as she closed her eyes, squeezed Robin’s hands between her own. She waited.

  “Did you mean it?” whispered Robin.

  Andee opened her eyes. It wasn’t what she had expected to hear, though she wasn’t really certain, in that moment, what she had expected at all. Robin stared up at her, pressing her stomach against Andee’s legs.

  Andee gazed into Robin’s eyes and squeezed her hands again.

  “Yes,” said Andee, her voice low and soft. “I meant every word.”

  Robin opened and shut her mouth, made as if she was about to say something, but Andee shook her head, leaned down, wrapped her fingers in the soft down at the nape of Robin’s neck, drawing the woman’s face up to her own. She pressed her mouth against Robin’s, tasted the warmth and the sweetness there, letting the sensation of the kiss fill her.

  Then Andee broke away, searched Robin’s face with a sigh. “Okay, so…” she muttered then, voice trembling. She swallowed. “So…”

  Robin reached up, cupped Andee’s face gently with her hands. Robin’s blue eyes seemed to pierce her through, then, but Andee held that fierce gaze for too many heartbeats to count as Robin searched her face, seeming to see into the very heart of her.

  “Do you trust me?” asked Robin.

  Andee swallowed, nodded. Her heart hurt for a moment as the wounds, past pains and scars throbbed for only a heartbeat…and then were hushed.

  “Yesterday morning…” Robin searched Andee’s eyes again. “What was that all about? I can’t keep thinking you’re just going to walk out on me, And,” she whispered.
>
  “Kimberly. Kimberly called you about Monica,” said Andee dully. Robin still held her gaze. “She said that M—Monica wanted to see you again.”

  “Oh. And you thought that meant that… Ah, I see,” said Robin, grimacing.

  “What did it mean?” whispered Andee.

  Robin sighed and continued to hold Andee’s gaze, eyes flickering from Andee’s eyes to her mouth and back again as she sighed again. “That you’re going to have to trust me. But it’s not what you think.”

  “You can’t tell me,” said Andee softly, quietly.

  And Robin nodded. “I can’t. You’re going to have to trust me,” she said again.

  A small part of Andee’s heart reared up at this, argued against it. Why couldn’t Robin tell her what was going on? Why? It was so unfair that she couldn’t tell her, but… Andee swallowed. Only a very small part of her heart thought this.

  She gazed down at the woman she loved, the woman she’d never stopped loving, and felt all of the hurt slowly lacing up and healing, like stitches in a wound that needed to be closed.

  “All right,” said Andee. Her voice was stronger now as she felt the corners of her mouth twitch upwards.

  Robin returned the smile. “So,” said Robin, tracing her fingers lightly up Andee’s thigh, causing Andee to shiver. “This…us… Are we going to try it again?”

  “Yes,” said Andee, without a heartbeat of hesitation. “Yes,” she murmured again, as Robin rose, as Robin bent down and kissed her softly and sweetly, her body pressed against Andee’s as she pushed her gently onto the bed. Then Robin was on top of her, over her; the sweet, familiar cologne, the scent of coffee, the sound of Robin’s breath as she placed her hands on either side of Andee’s shoulders, kissing her fiercely, was all Andee, in that moment, knew.

  She wrapped her arms around Robin’s waist and chuckled as Robin lost her balance and fell on top of her—which is exactly what Andee had wanted. She curved her legs around Robin as Robin growled a little, pinning Andee’s arms above her head, kissing her mouth, her neck, as Andee arched back, the world spinning in a very good way now as Robin’s mouth traveled down, down toward Andee’s full and happy heart…

  …as Tiffany banged into the room, the door hitting the wall with a solid thud.

  “That’s sweet and all, ladies,” she practically bellowed, waltzing into the room to take the cat off the other bed, holding it in her arms as she shook her head, tut-tutting. Andee sighed and Robin groaned, putting her forehead on Andee’s breastbone as Andee straightened a little, frowning at Tiffany. “We have to go. Vermont’s not gonna look at itself, and let’s be honest—you can resume these activities when we get there,” said Tiffany, with a huge smirk.

  As she shooed Robin and Andee out of bed, as she began to mix up the disgusting hangover cure, Tiffany glanced at them both, and Andee saw her wink.

  “Finally,” Tiffany muttered to the cat, which now washed itself in the window and didn’t care about any of them in the least.

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  “She didn’t offer to do a thing,” sighed Jill, nursing her gigantic cup of coffee as they crossed over the border from Massachusetts into Vermont, the large sign welcoming them to the Green Mountain State. Their final destination, Andee realized, as she leaned against Robin in the backseat. Robin held her in her arms with a wide grin that had remained in place for hours.

  “So, you’re telling us that you sexed her up royally, and she sat on the pillow like a princess,” said Tiffany, shaking her head. “That’s just too bad!”

  “Oh, it wasn’t bad,” said Jill, shaking her head, too, with an odd little satisfied smile playing over her face. “It was quite nice, actually. I could just do my own thing, and whatever I did made her crazy, so that made me feel pretty good about myself,” said Jill, leaning back in the seat and putting her hands behind her head as she stretched, laughing. “It was a good night, all in all.”

  “Yeah,” said Andee, glancing up at Robin as she chuckled, too, shaking her head. “I guess that’s the sort of thing that happens in Provincetown—very good nights.”

  “We’ll have to plan to go back,” said Tiffany, smirking toward the backseat as she gunned the engine, passing a tractor-trailer that was certainly going over the speed limit, which meant that Tiffany was most certainly going over the speed limit.

  “What’s your hurry?” said Andee then, glancing up at the setting sun. “We just have to be there tonight—anytime.”

  “Not exactly. That’s the thing. Elizabeth texted me this morning,” sighed Tiffany, gunning the engine again as she swerved around a slow-moving SUV. “She wanted to take us all out to dinner tonight when we got in. But because we got a late start since someone was massively hung over—”

  “I’m sorry, guys!” groaned Andee again, but Jill shrugged, and Tiffany just shook her head.

  “It’s not a huge problem, but they really wanted to go out with us tonight, so…I’m driving a little faster,” said Tiffany, flashing a smile into the rearview mirror. “We were going to go to the Maple Sugar Museum, but I just don’t think we have time for it now.”

  “Darn,” muttered Jill, winking back at Robin, who shrugged and laughed.

  “You ladies will never know what you missed. That place is a gem,” said Robin, making Tiffany and Jill chuckle. “Either way, we’re going to have to stop for a bathroom break soon,” said Robin, yawning, “and since they sell maple syrup here pretty much every other mile, we’ll still be able to get some as a souvenir. Because that’s what you do when you go to Vermont,” she said in a tone that brooked no argument. “You buy maple syrup.”

  “And function as bridesmaids at the wedding of the century,” said Tiffany, glancing over her shoulder as she merged into the other lane of traffic. “So every time we come to Vermont, someone’s got to be getting married! Maybe I’ll go next,” she grinned thoughtfully, pressing her perfectly manicured toes down on the gas pedal—hard.

  “Did you tell Elizabeth and Heather I was hung over, Tiff?” said Andee, as Tiffany swerved around another vehicle—a large red truck boasting a pair of those dangling, obnoxious truck nuts. Tiffany flipped the driver the finger as he yelled something rude out the window. Then she grinned brightly at Andee.

  “Why, yes, I did! I told them that, because of your vodka overindulgence, we might be a little late…”

  “Great,” groaned Andee. “I’m never going to be able to live this down.”

  “Well, the way I see it, if you hadn’t gotten completely drunk, you wouldn’t have ever loosened up enough to tell Robin about your feelings for her. So it was a lucky twist of fate,” said Tiffany, glancing over her shoulder as she merged again. “What?” she said, then, as Andee stared at the back of her red head with an open mouth. “I may have overheard—”

  “Tiff—”

  “Hey. That drunk confession was as endearing as a serenade beneath my bedroom window,” grinned Robin, leaning down and brushing her lips over Andee’s forehead.

  Tiffany snorted, but she beamed a smile into the rearview mirror.

  They pulled over to the side of the road just as the sun slipped behind the lowest mountain. There was a waterfall splashing merrily down the side of the hill on the right, which was what had compelled Tiffany to stop the car.

  “So, does Vermont have random waterfalls all willy-nilly throughout the state?” asked Tiffany, staring up at the natural wonder with her hands on her hips. Andee couldn’t tell if she was pleased or distressed by the surprise placement of the waterfall.

  “Well, it’s Vermont. Everything’s really, really picturesque here. It’s kind of a requirement. This is the land of beauty,” said Robin, taking her camera out of her pocket. “Now, if I could just get you ladies to cluster around this gorgeous object—and I mean Andee, not the waterfall…” She winked at Andee, and Andee was quite glad that it was dusk; the low light hid her blush.

  “Oh, no you don’t. No pictures until I pee,” Tiffany announced, and then she trotted over the
gravel in her high heels toward the little clapboard house with the weathered sign reading “Restroom!”

  In the parking lot was a tiny stand groaning beneath the weight of maple syrup bottles, set up out of an older man’s station wagon. The car looked like it should have been taken off the road ten years ago, and the man’s hat didn’t look much better. But gleaming on the makeshift stand were freshly made bottles of liquid sugar.

  “Me and the wife make all of ‘em,” he said proudly, waving his arm over the stand of bottles as if he were revealing a long-lost treasure.

  “We’ll take four of these,” said Robin, holding up a glass bottle shaped like a maple leaf.

  “That’ll be forty dollars,” said the man, nodding when Robin handed him two twenties.

  “Don’t say I never did anything for you,” said Robin, winking at Jill as she handed her a bottle of maple syrup.

  “Whenever I drizzle this on top of my pancakes, I shall think of you fondly,” said Jill solemnly, laughing.

  The man was almost packed up, stowing the last of his gallon-sized containers of syrup into the empty space at the back of the station wagon, by the time the four women all exited the restroom. The sound of the waterfall was hushed in the twilit stillness, and Robin, Andee, Jill and Tiffany wandered over to the guardrail to stare at the churning white waters.

  “Beautiful,” whispered Robin, but she wasn’t looking at the waterfall. She had one arm looped around Andee’s waist and was squeezing her tightly. Andee sighed, leaning her head on Robin’s shoulder, and, for just a moment, it felt as if no time had passed at all. Here they were again, on another adventure… Here they were again, in love.

  Andee tried to hold onto the moment. This moment: gazing at the waterfall, feeling the cool crispness of twilight, listening to the sound of Tiffany’s laughter as she pointed out a raccoon at the water’s edge… In another breath, it would all fade away. Time would go on. It would never come again, just like their adventures in college would never happen again. But for always, forever, Andee would keep this memory as a treasure in her heart.