Twice Upon a Train

by K A Moll

  Keegan looked at her. “Well, yeah. Aren’t you?”

  “Oh my God, she’d just die if she thought someone thought that.” She laughed, her eyes taking on the most delightful twinkle. “Me with Nikki? That way? Oh my God, heavens no.” They chatted for a few more minutes, agreeing to meet at Gold on the Bay at six-fifteen.

  *

  Keegan walked toward her cabin, feeling more awake than she’d felt in ages, rejuvenated by adrenaline, her heart drumming in her chest. Mae, my sweet Mae’s not with the redhead—hallelujah. Nikki, you need to call her Nikki, and you need to like her, or at least try to like her. Do it for Willow. She’s been her friend for virtually her entire life, cared enough about her to take her on this trip. You have no reason to be jealous of her, and you need to try to like her. She unlocked her door and checked her messages. The first was from her mom, wanting to know if she could get them her discount on her dad’s medication. She’d call her back later. And the second was from the hospital attorney, advising that the process server had made another attempt; that he’d been told that she was on vacation, but not where; and that she should continue on to California, evading service. He wanted time to work behind the scenes. She switched on the TV, watched the early news, and read an article in her medical journal. Finally, five-thirty, time to get dressed. She selected her navy pants, a matching jacket, a red tie, and a white shirt. You want to look like a flag? She exchanged the red tie for one with blue diamonds, dressed, and checked the mirror, deciding that her light blue shirt would look better. Then, she changed and checked the mirror—changed and checked the mirror—changed and checked the mirror—ending up in her black suit and a light gray shirt. She tied the red tie, remembering that Willow’s favorite color used to be red. As she combed her hair, she mentally kicked herself for not recognizing Willow when they’d first run into one another. But it wasn’t as easy as it sounded, because with the exception of her eyes, she looked completely different—having gone from an A-cup to a C-cup, curve-less to curvaceous, and a brunette to a blonde. She stopped by the gift shop on her way to dinner, buying her a red rose corsage. They had much to catch up on, to learn about one another, but she already knew what she wanted—she wanted it all.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Willow’s insides quivered, her gaze becoming unfocused as she stood with the key in her hand. In thinking that she was with Nikki, Keegan had obviously assumed that she was a lesbian. Of course, she’d think that because she is. People always see the world from their own perspective. Her mind stepped the stones of the men she’d been with—Harry, Phillip and Charlie. Harry was her first. They’d had awkward sex in the backseat of his car. Once was quite enough. Then, there was Phillip. She’d dated him as a Sophomore. Nothing to write home about. And, last but not least, there was Charlie. He’d gotten her pregnant not long after her trip to Hawaii. Had she known that she’d lose the baby during her first trimester, she would never have married him. Nice enough guy, but no fireworks. When they’d divorced, a mutual decision, she’d vowed never to have another man. But not being interested in men doesn’t mean you’re a lesbian. She bit her lower lip thinking about Keegan. And one sexual experience with Keegs when you were thirteen, as memorable as it was, doesn’t either. She turned the lock, entering as quietly as possible. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be asleep. How are you feeling? Any better?”

  “I think I’m on the mend.”

  “That’s good,” Willow answered with a gentle smile. “Did you take a nap like you promised?”

  “I laid down, but the process server called, and by the time we hung up, I was wide awake.” She smiled thinly. “So, here I am, back where I started.”

  “Did he find your defendant?” Willow asked, trying to be a good friend, to be interested in the things that she was interested in.

  “No, but he got some nurse to slip, saying she’d gone on an extended vacation. But surgeons don’t take vacations, so come to think of it she was probably a plant. Defendant’s probably right under our nose, evading service. I should send him back out.”

  “Everybody takes vacations.”

  “Not surgeons, maybe a weekend or two here and there, but not extended ones. Not when the more they cut, the more they get paid. The whole lot’s nothing but greedy butchers. You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve seen. Drunk, half asleep, and sometimes high on prescription medications, they’re always at the ready, like vultures waiting for their next victim.”

  “What a cynical view of the medical world,” Willow responded, aware that by mentioning Keegan she could win the argument, and unsure why she chose not to. “I can’t believe you really believe that about people who devote their lives to helping other people.”

  Nicole shrugged. “Just telling it the way it is.”

  Willow untied her tennis shoes, setting them out of the way. “So, do you want to go to dinner tonight?” She knew that she wouldn’t but needed to ask anyway.

  “No, I had room service while you were gone,” Nicole responded, glancing up from an electronic document. “I don’t think I’d better push it. But don’t let me hold you back. Go on; have a good time.”

  “I’m glad you ate something,” Willow answered. “I was beginning to get worried.” She hadn’t noticed a tray outside the door, but then again, she hadn’t been paying attention.

  Nicole shook her head. “Cluck, cluck, Mother Hen.”

  “It’s just because I care,” Willow said, stepping toward the bathroom. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

  Nicole nodded. “Try out the Jacuzzi.”

  “Good idea; I think I will.” She locked the door before undressing, a habit from childhood. Once the tub was filled, warm and sudsy, she eased in, finding the underwater lighting, the dancing bubbles, and the powerful jets to be relaxing. She closed her eyes, aroused as she thought about Keegan—her long, lean form, beautifully proportioned; the inherent strength in her face; her voice, husky and lingering; and her eyes—Oh God, those beautiful eyes—so incredibly intelligent. She turned to her side, opening to the throttle of the jets, an exquisite shudder passing through her body. And as she caught her breath, her thoughts catapulted to another train, another time, and another orgasm, one that came out of nowhere, a shock to her system. She’d known the definition of the word, but not what it meant to have one. Until that day—that day at the amusement park—that day when Keegs slid her hand inside her pants—her long, beautiful fingers heating her thighs and groin. She moaned, the second wave of spasms taking hold. And as bubbles turned to foam, her brain froze, realizing that no one else—not Harry, Phillip, or Charlie—had ever caused her to gasp in sweet agony. Keegan’s the only one. And here she was, coming out of nowhere like that first orgasm, shaking her world. Her head spun, seriously considering that she might be a lesbian. She dried with a fluffy towel, slipped on her robe, and went to her closet, selecting one dress, hanging it up, and selecting another—a bold plaid with a floral accent—a dress with a strong feminine statement. High heel stilettos completed her outfit.

  “Good God,” Nicole reacted, “look at you, all sexy and made up. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you met a man this afternoon.”

  “A girl can dress up if she wants to.”

  “But when she does, in heels as high as those, she does it to impress a man.”

  “Not this girl,” Willow answered, sliding her purse strap over her shoulder. “You want me to bring you something?”

  “No, don’t worry about it. If I get hungry, I’ll order room service.”

  Willow’s body tingled, inside and out, walking through the lounge car. She nodded to a young couple, her stomach turning a somersault when she noticed they were holding hands. What if she was a lesbian? What if she wasn’t? She’d had one teeny-tiny experience. Keegs had touched her, that was it. What if her attraction to her was nothing more than her body remembering the pleasure? Her mind choked, trying to figure things out. “Willow Lord,” she greeted. “I’m meeting someone, but I’m a bit early.�
�

  The well-dressed man displayed his shiny gold tooth. “Ahh, yes, Dr. Wade. Right this way, ma’am.”

  “God, you look beautiful,” Keegan greeted, stepping around the table to pull out her chair, “so beautiful, so incredibly beautiful.”

  Willow smoothed her dress, smiling as she sat down. “And you look handsome.” Saying it to a woman felt odd, and yet it didn’t, especially when the woman was Keegan.

  Keegan’s eyes sparkled, watching the white cardboard box capture Willow’s attention. “When I was a kid,” she began, her voice softening as she opened it, “I dreamed of two things; no, three.” She gently lifted a gorgeous rose trio, allowing Willow to inhale its sweet fragrance. “I dreamed of becoming a doctor, a surgeon; I dreamed of escaping the suffocating hold of my parents, and I dreamed of us. All the way through medical school, I never stopped dreaming of us, Willow, you and me.” She took a breath, pushing the pin into the fabric of her dress, and weaving it over the stem. “And here I am, forty years old, an old forty at that, pinning a corsage above your left breast. And all I can think is—Oh God, please don’t wake up before you finish. I feel like a kid again,” she choked, “and it’s been so long since I’ve felt like anything.”

  “Oh, Keegs—”

  “I’m sorry,” Keegan said, reaching into her pants pocket, and handing her a handkerchief, “I shouldn’t have led with that. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “You’re not an old forty,” Willow squeaked, “and leading with it was perfect.”

  The waiter appeared. “A Pendleton, neat?”

  Keegan hesitated but ordered the drink.

  The waiter turned to Willow. “And for you, ma’am?”

  “A glass of Merlot, please.”

  “Excellent choices,” he responded, describing the specials before leaving.

  “They already know what you drink?”

  “I guess so,” Keegan answered, shifting in her seat.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Okay,” Keegan said, “so if Humphrey shows up tonight, I’m telling him to move along. He was headed into the San Fran Cafe about an hour ago, so I don’t think he will, but just in case he does, I want to be sure we’re on the same page.”

  Willow pressed her lips together.

  “Okay,” Keegan sighed, “so we’re not.”

  “No, not this time. I feel sorry for him. I mean, he just lost his wife. If there’s ever a time he should be included, it’s now.”

  “He just lost his wife? He didn’t say one word to me.” Keegan’s eyes widened. “And trust me, he’s had the opportunity.”

  “Probably wouldn’t have said anything to me either had I not asked what was wrong. He was in the lounge car, kind of teary-eyed, so I sat down to talk with him for a little while.”

  “Okay, so I feel bad about that,” Keegan responded, touched by how caring she was. “Poor guy, if he comes in, we’ll invite him to join us. But just know that I’m hoping that he doesn’t. Because you can’t imagine how much I want—” Her words halted, noticing a change in Willow’s expression. “What?”

  Willow pursed her lips, breaking eye contact.

  “What? Tell me.”

  “You hope he doesn’t because you want us to be alone.”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “And you looked like the weight of the world was lifted off your shoulders when you learned that Nikki and I weren’t an item.”

  Keegan swallowed, knowing what was coming.

  “We had a moment as girls, Keegs, but that was my only moment, my only one.”

  Keegan’s heart shrunk from the size of a watermelon to a pea.

  “Your Pendleton, Dr. Wade,” the waiter announced, setting a rocks glass before her.

  “Thanks,” Keegan mumbled, staring at the drapery, and guzzling.

  “And your glass of Merlot, ma’am,” he added, smiling. “Would you care for an appetizer? Or are you ready to order your entrées?”

  Keegan’s jaw muscles rippled.

  “Could you give us a moment, please?” Willow responded.

  “Certainly, ma’am,” the waiter answered, spinning on his heel, and moving to the next table.

  When Willow spoke next, her tone was soothing like a healing balm. “Keegs—”

  “It’s okay; I get it, you’re not a lesbian. I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.”

  “You didn’t make me feel uncomfortable.”

  Keegan tipped her glass, pouring whiskey down the back of her throat.

  “Another drink, Dr. Wade?” the waiter asked.

  Good God, man, do you have to sit on my fucking shoulder? “Yeah, make it a double,” she answered.

  “Keegs,” Willow cooed, touching her forearm.

  “I get it, really I do,” Keegan continued, flashing a smile of false bravado. “We should order so you can get back to check on Nikki.” She cocked her head, assuming her best concerned doctor pose. “How’s she doing by the way? She should be starting to feel better by now. If not—”

  “Keegan, stop,” Willow demanded. “I don’t want to discuss Nikki, not right now. And I’d appreciate it if you’d look at me when I’m talking to you.”

  Keegan turned her head, swallowing.

  “Thank you,” Willow responded, taking a breath to the bottom of her lungs. “Okay,” she continued, “so, how about we order dinner, and while we eat you let me finish what I was about to tell you?”

  “That works,” Keegan answered, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly. Not just any woman could handle her the way she’d just been handled. She lifted her hand, summoning the waiter. “We’re ready when you are.”

  “I’ll have the seafood linguine,” Willow ordered, gracing the waiter with her beautiful smile.

  “It comes with a Caesar salad.”

  “That sounds wonderful.”

  “The same for me,” Keegan added, pushing her whiskey aside. “And if you could, a glass of water.”

  “I’ll return post haste,” the waiter responded. “Would you care for a slice of lemon or lime in it?”

  “Lemon’s good, thanks.”

  He commented that the linguine was his favorite of the chef’s specialties before stepping off, bringing the water within seconds, and their meals in no time.

  “You were about to say?” Keegan prompted, determined to behave better this time around.

  Willow hesitated before speaking. “I’ve only been with men,” she began quietly, telling the story of Harry, Phillip, and Charlie.

  “Oh God, you lost a baby,” Keegan reacted, “I’m so sorry.”

  “Thanks,” Willow responded, smiling a sad smile. “It wasn’t meant to be, I guess. Anyway, it was a long time ago.”

  “You’d have been a great mom.”

  “I guess we’ll never know, will we.”

  Keegan had questions but didn’t ask them, deciding that it wasn’t any of her business at this point. Was she still able to have children? And if so, did she want them?

  “And to be honest,” Willow continued, making painfully direct eye contact, “I’ve never felt the slightest attraction to a woman.”

  Keegan’s chest tightened, her body preparing for the inevitable.

  Willow nudged her chin with her fingertip and peered into her eyes. “Until I ran into you at the travel agency.”

  Keegan’s stomach fluttered, cautiously hopeful.

  “But I’ve only been with men,” she went on. “Not that that means anything because God knows I wasn’t the most responsive sexual partner, but still.” She shook her head. “I guess the bottom line is that I’m not sure of anything anymore. It’s all moving too fast for me.”

  “I get that,” Keegan said softly. “So, I’ll back off; we’ll slow down. There’s no hurry.”

  “But you see, it’s not just that. It’s not just you.”

  “Not just me? So, you’re attracted to women now?”

  “As in the gender as a whole? Good God, heavens no. I’m still trying to wrap m
y mind around you.”

  “Okay, so I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying.”

  Willow tilted her head, looking at her, her cheeks flushing.

  Keegan smiled gently. “Or, maybe I do.”

  And the waiter appeared, an uninvited fly at their picnic. “Would you care for dessert? Maybe a slice of white chocolate raspberry cheesecake or tiramisu?”

  “A slice of both,” Keegan responded, dismissing him, her attention returning to Willow. “Seems we’re destined to be interrupted.”

  “Seems so,” Willow answered, her mood lighter after sharing a dessert. “Do you want to take a walk? I have something I want to show you.”

  Keegan touched her hand. “I’d love to.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Willow led the way through the dining cars, the lounge car, and the sleeper cars. “I ran across something that I want you to see.”

  “I can’t wait,” Keegan answered, staying right with her, and coming to a halt when she did—at the rear of the car, before the car, that marked the end of the train.

  “So, what do you think?” she asked, meeting her gaze.

  Keegan smiled a slow smile, her eyes twinkling. “I think this is our train or a train just like our train.” Her fingers skated along the edge of the smooth, dark stained wood that marked the entrance to the small, protected space; no doubt meant to be the bunk of a brakeman. “God does this bring back memories,” she said, her voice low and nostalgic.

  “Talk about an understatement,” Willow responded. “But I shouldn’t say anything because I’m not sure I could do any better describing what it feels like to be back in this place.”

  Keegan sat on the edge of the upholstered mattress, patting the seat beside her. “Try.”

  Willow considered her words, sitting down. “Flashbacks,” she finally responded, “unimagined ecstasy and unbridled terror, intertwined.” She sucked in air, her eyes widening. “God, that climax, it blew my mind. I never dreamed anything could feel like that.”