by Giselle Fox
“I know,” Keira said, scuffing her toe across the carpet.
“Before you think about retiring, try living again first, then decide whether it’s time to call it quits. Don’t make any rash decisions when you’re in this much of a funk.”
“You don’t think selling the house I love and moving back to New York is rash?”
“No, it’s called reintegrating into the world. You’ve become a recluse.”
“I’m not a recluse. I... go out.”
Jane gave her look.
“I go out. We have a theater. We have plays… sometimes. When there’s a market, I go.”
“I talked to Ryan, you know. He’s worried about you, too.”
Keira waved that off.
“How many people live on this island?”
“Why?”
“Let me rephrase that; how many people on this island are single women that want to date you?”
“Uh… none.”
“I rest my case.”
“Dating isn’t going to make this better.”
“No, falling in love again will make it better. You should know this, you’re a romance writer!”
“I’m done with falling in love. I have baggage. Pain. Trust issues. I need space, lots of space. I’m not fall-in-lovable.”
Jane grinned. “You know who you sound like?”
“Please, don’t tell me.”
“You sound just like one of your leading men-”
“No, I don’t.”
“You do. Listen; strong, rich, misunderstood, and freakishly endowed Cade Brogan lives alone in his fortress of solitude, waiting for the one woman that can make him love again...”
Keira sighed. “No.”
“Or how about this one; after living with a wolf pack in the wilds of BC, virile, passionate, and pectorally perfect Paolo returns to civilization to find his mate. Rawr, I like that one. Maybe that should be your next book.”
“Jeezis.”
“Be Cade. Be Paolo. You have mystique. You’re fit, rich, and I bet if you took the off the fleece you might even look sophisticated again. If I heli-dropped you into a women’s soccer tournament, the ladies would eat you alive.”
“You’re just saying that to get me to move back to New York.”
“And why shouldn’t I? I miss you. I want you back. We’ll have fun. I’ll take care of you. I’ll set you up. I have five women right now that want your number.”
“No, you don’t.”
“But I could. I’m a walking dating app. Come home and I’ll show you.”
Keira sighed.
“When was the last time you were attracted to a woman?”
“There were attractive women in Spain.”
Jane gave her a look. “I’m sure there were, but that doesn’t answer the question.”
“I haven’t been attracted to anyone since Sydney,” Keira mumbled.
Jane stared back at her. “Do you still love her?”
“God, no. Betrayal and attraction don’t mix for me.”
“That’s good news, at least. Hey, did you get the box I sent you?”
Keira nodded into the corner where the unopened package had been collecting dust.
Jane glared at her. “You haven’t even opened it?”
Keira shrugged. “I know what’s in there.”
“What if you’re wrong? What if there was a puppy in there?”
Keira stared back at her. “Is there a puppy in there, Jane?”
“No, but you should have opened it. What if it was perishable?”
“Go ahead, open it if you want.”
Jane padded over to the box in her fuzzy slippers and began to pull the packing tape from it. “There’s something else in here, too. Something that hasn’t been in print for years. Can you guess?”
“No.”
Jane smiled back at her. “It’s your first three books.”
Keira frowned. “They sold over a million copies last year.”
“Not Kay Ember’s first books, your first books.”
Keira stood up, walked over to the box, and peered into it. She hadn’t seen those books in years.
“I told you. You should have opened this yourself. Here.” Jane handed a small stack to her.
Keira shuffled through them, smoothing her fingers over the shiny covers. “They redid the cover designs.”
“They had to. Idiots lost the original artwork when they merged. You’ll notice there’s no picture of you on the back. They lost that too.” She shook her head and sighed.
Keira was happy about that at least. “They look… pretty good.” She put them down on the stack with the rest. “Why the reprint?”
“They were doing a limited run of queer fiction and asked a few of us for recommendations. I suggested these.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re good, K. I don’t know why they didn’t do better. Maybe they will now.”
“Don’t be so sure. They have lesbians in them.”
“So does the world. People aren’t as rigid anymore.”
“Mmm.” Keira wasn’t so sure.
“Just look at this. I mean, look at it. This is all you, K. Let that soak in for a minute.”
Keira looked at the stack. If Jane had sent the whole catalog—and knowing her she probably had—there were fifty-one books there; thousands of hours of work. “What am I supposed to do with these?”
“I’m going to put them on the shelf, right over there.” Jane pointed to one of the bookshelves that housed her collection of vintage cameras.
“Where will my cameras go?”
“I don’t know. How about over there?” Jane said and pointed to a lone shelf on the opposite wall that’s only function was to hold an old coffee mug and a metronome that didn’t keep time.
“Fine,” Keira said. She watched Jane shelve the books in chronological order, beginning with the three novels she’d written under her own name.
“There. What do you think?”
“I feel inspired already,” Keira said without trying to hide the complete disinterest she felt.
Jane looked back at her. “Thank you for sending them, Jane. That was kind of you. Go ahead, now you try it.”
Keira groaned. “Thanks, Jane.”
“Don’t be a curmudgeon, it makes you sound old.” Jane looked back at the shelf. “This represents sixteen years of work. I feel proud of us, don’t you?”
Keira sighed. “Yes.”
“Good. The next time you’re sitting at your desk thinking you have nothing good to say, look at these. Feel the power in them. Remember how many lives you’ve touched, and how many people love you-”
“They don’t love me. I’m a ghost. They’ve never seen my face. They wouldn’t know me if I was sitting next to them.”
“You’re a writer. Their writer. Even if Kay Ember isn’t your real name, you are a real person, and this is your work. This is all you and don’t you forget it.”
“I get what you’re trying to do, and I love you for it, I do. But something is missing, Jane. The stories aren’t there anymore. I sit at my desk and try. I type three or four thousand words every day hoping I might piece some of it together, but it’s pointless. I’ve lost it.”
“Let me read something.”
“No. It’s gone.”
“What do you mean, gone?”
“I deleted it.”
Jane stared back at her. “You what?”
“It’s not worth the hard drive space, trust me. The wellspring I tapped into before has dried up.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“Believe it.” Keira sat down. “It’s been like this since Noah left. How am I supposed to write a happy ending when I know it’s all bullshit?”
“Oh, dear,” Jane sighed. “This is bad.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. I should have come sooner.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“If Chris took the kids, I’d lose m
y mind. It would be the end of me.”
“Now you know.”
“Now I know.” Jane walked over to the window. “We’ll tell people you’re taking a break for a while.”
“Haven’t we been doing that already?”
“Yes, but…” She looked Keira in the eyes. “We’ll make it sound… less temporary this time.”
Keira nodded. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get it back, I really don’t. And I’m not just being dramatic. I want it. Shit… I’m doing the same things I always did; sticking to the routine. It’s not like I’m here eating Doritos on the couch.”
“No, I can see that.” Jane sighed again. “Don’t feel pressure, especially not from me. If it’s time to retire, then… you have my blessing. I just want you to be happy. Forget the routine. Don’t force yourself to work. You know yourself. You need fun, adventure.” She snapped her fingers. “You need sex-”
“I don’t need sex,” Keira protested.
“You need crazy, wanton sex!”
“With whom? Look at where I live.”
“Come back to New York. There’s plenty of sex for you there.”
“I don’t want sex.”
“Why not? Isn’t that the best part of being single? Enjoy the one benefit you have from Sydney walking out on you.”
“I had a family. How is sex going to replace that?”
“It won’t, ever. But maybe you’ll meet someone else that can be that for you.”
Keira had nothing to say about that. “I can’t leave. What if he comes back?”
“It’s been months. He’s in school now. Even if they were coming back, it probably wouldn’t be until summer.” Jane said softly.
Keira knew she was right.
“If you won’t come back to New York, then what about Vancouver? It’s a city, at least. You could live there. It’s closer to Kelowna. Easier for Sydney to get to in case she does stop being a total you-know-what.”
“I’ve already thought of that.”
“And?”
“I’ll feel the same way there, except I’ll be surrounded by a lot of people. That’s even more depressing, don’t you think?”
“Fine, that settles it. I’m just going to have to come back here every month to check on you.”
“You don’t have to-”
“Really? Maybe you’re not seeing what I’m seeing here. This is not you, K. You love people. You make friends the instant you start talking. People trust you, they bring you into their world. You’ve lived… the most incredible life. You’ve been everywhere.”
“Not true.”
“Seen everything.”
“Not everything”
“Met everyone.”
Keira sighed. “Okay, I’ve met a lot of people.”
“Don’t you miss that?”
“Yes…?”
Jane squinted at her. “Was that a question or an answer?”
“Yes, I miss it. Of course, I do. Life was good… then.”
“So? Do it again. Don’t worry about the writing part. Just get out there. Enjoy your life. You could be somewhere tomorrow. Think about it.” She pulled an atlas off the shelf. “Where? Pick a page number.”
Keira sighed. “Forty-two.”
With barely containable excitement, Jane flipped the pages until she stopped and then frowned. “Did you know Canada was on this page?”
Actually, she hadn’t known. Keira had just said the first number that popped into her head. “See? It’s destiny. I’m stuck here.”
Jane frowned.
“For a little while longer.” Keira removed the atlas from Jane’s fingers and slid it back onto the shelf. “Thanks for organizing my books, Jane. It looks nice.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Kirby slowed his engine and coasted the rest of the way toward the dock. “You know… I usually rent my place out for two-fifty a night. You’re getting a good deal.”
Daisy looked back at him, expecting some indication that what he was joking, but no, he was completely serious. She thought of asking how the repairs on the broken window and leaning balcony of doom were coming along, but she didn’t bother. When she saw the cabin hidden behind the same scraggly tree limbs, buried under the same layers of moss and fallen leaves, she remembered that Kirby’s place was a lot like Kirby himself; a teardown.
“Watch the dock when you step out. A few boards are broken,” he warned.
She eyed the splintered, rotting planks and decided to let him go first. A speedboat was fastened to the yacht-sized dock on the other side of the cove. Everything looked so much better over there. The house was more beautiful in person. Floating cedar beams blended the multi-leveled structure seamlessly with the forest. The glass reflected the colors of the sky and water. That’s what a few million gets you around here, she thought. She looked up at Kirby’s cabin again and could practically smell the mold.
“I’ll go on up and make sure everything is still working,” he said, grabbing a grocery bag before high-stepping it up the muddy path. He stopped to kick a fallen branch aside. One of Daisy’s navel oranges came rolling down the hill and plopped into the water beside her.
“He hasn’t been here in weeks,” she muttered, shaking her head again. She looked down at the broken dock. Some sellers never ceased to amaze her.
She looked over at the big house across the cove again and caught a flash of something moving in the window. She realized it was a woman with a set of binoculars. “How interesting.” Daisy turned away as though she hadn’t noticed. The drizzle was beginning to let up a bit. Now that they were out of the wind, the air felt a lot warmer. Warm enough to remove her jacket and show a little shape. She hoped her choice of attire was sufficiently lesbian friendly.
The screen door of the cabin slammed above her. She looked up in time to see Kirby fling something black and stiff into the trees off the back of the house. She shuddered to think of where it had come from. Imagining staying there for a week made her sure of one thing - it was time to kick whatever she was doing into high gear.
“So, what can you tell me about your neighbor?” she asked.
“There’s not a lot to say about her. She’s rich. Got no friends. Probably inherited all that money ‘cause…” he shook his head.
“Did you ever offer her your lot?”
“I did, but she turned it down.”
“Surprising if she’s as rich as you say she is, don’t you think? What was your price?”
“What it’s worth,” he barked. “Same price as everyone that comes out here sniffing around.”
She doubted that happened often—at least not on his side of the cove.
“I wouldn’t sell it to her now if she offered me double.”
She doubted that, too. “Why not?”
“’Cause,” he said, and left it at that.
Something didn’t add up. Kirby clearly believed he had grounds to hate his neighbor, but as far as Daisy could see from the layout of the cove, Keira had little to gain from owning more of it than privacy. Since Kirby clearly didn’t come around very often, that point was moot. “You say she doesn’t have any friends, but it looks like she has someone over there now.”
Kirby seemed surprised by that. He stared over at the big house for much longer than necessary.
“Perhaps, not so obvious, hmm? I’d like to try to make friends with her.”
“Good luck with that,” he grunted and bent to pick up another bag.
Daisy was about done with him. “You know what, I’ll take it from here. You’ve got things to do, right?” She gave him the most gracious smile she could muster.
He looked back at her. “Err, yeah… I do.”
“I assume everything is working up top?”
“It seems good. It’ll take a while for the water to warm up but the tank’s not very big.”
“I’ll call you if I need anything.”
“Phone reception is best down here on the dock.”
Daisy hadn’t considered tha
t potential inconvenience. “Noted.”
She didn’t watch him drive away. If the women in the neighboring house were still watching, she wanted Kirby gone ASAP. She flipped her baseball cap backward and smoothed her long hair down her back. Then she rolled up her sleeves and waved at the woman standing in the big glass window on the other side of the cove.
A few minutes earlier…
Jane was standing by the window with a glass of wine. “No one has moved in over there yet?”
Keira looked over at the house across the cove. “No.”
“Is it for rent?”
“Has been since summer, but it’s a hard sell. The dock is rotting and you can only get here by boat, so...”
“It’s dark, too.”
“Mmm, yes. Doesn’t get much light at this time of year.”
“Have you been over there since?”
“No.”
“Your dock is nice and big. In comparison, I mean. I assume that’s a good thing.”
“Yes. I had it built before they started working on the house. The old dock looked a lot like that one.”
Jane was tapping her fingers on her arm and looking mildly agitated. “What else is there to look at?”
Keira grinned. “Are you missing the city already?”
“Don’t tease.”
Keira stepped closer to the window and lifted her binoculars from the table. “There’s an otter right over there.” She pointed into the water and handed Jane the binoculars.
Jane trained them on the water and focused. “Will it come to get us?”
“Not until you’re asleep. Then it might kill you with cuteness.”
Jane gave her a look. “What else?”
“There’s a...” Keira paused, frowning. “A boat. It’s Kirby’s. Who...?” She watched it pull into the cove and slow the engine. She focused the binoculars on the old tug. “Who’s with him?” The boat pulled in to the dock next door.
They both watched as they docked at the neighboring house. A woman stepped out and looked around. “Probably a realtor,” Keira muttered. “They come by once in a while to check out the cabin.”
“Do they stay for long?”
They both watched as the captain lifted a suitcase and then a few grocery bags onto the dock. More provisions, groceries, and another bag were unloaded. “Twelve rolls of toilet paper? That woman is moving in,” Jane said.
