by Gerri Hill
“No.”
Luke’s word was firm, and while Cassie wondered at her hesitaŹtion, she didn’t press.
“They’re not very good,” Luke finally said. “But I do get enjoyŹment from doing them.”
“I understand.” Cassie also knew that artists were their own worst critics. They might not be commercial quality, but Cassie doubted they were as bad as Luke made them out to be.
It was only later, after a light dinner of salad and leftover pasta that Luke finally brought up the subject of their relationship. Cassie had secretly been dreading it. She didn’t know what Luke wanted, and she was afraid of how quickly she was falling.
But as they sat together in companionable silence on Luke’s sofa, their hands linked, Luke finally brought it up.
“Are you okay with everything?”
“Do I look like I’m not?”
“What about in here?” Luke asked, lightly tapping Cassie’s head.
“Surprisingly, I feel great. I mean, I was so scared of what I was feeling, I was scared that I couldn’t run from it. Every time I came near you…”
“What?”
“I wanted you,” Cassie admitted. “But I kept hearing my father’s voice, I kept hearing his words. I could see it as if it were yesterday, him holding his Bible over Kim, quoting from it, warnŹing her of her fate.” Cassie brought Luke’s hand to her mouth and kissed it lightly. “None of that matters. That night of the party, what I really wanted you to do was throw me down on the bed and rip my clothes off,” Cassie admitted shyly.
“I thought, maybe, that I had pushed too much, gone too far,” Luke confessed. “I came home, took a giant bowl of ice cream with me and sat in the Jacuzzi for two hours, cursing myself. I didn’t want to scare you. But I thought that once you were alone and had time to think about things, that you would hate yourself for what we did, for what we almost did.”
Cassie nodded in understanding. “And then I didn’t call you.”
“Yes. And I couldn’t bring myself to call. I was determined to let you make the decision.”
“The real reason I didn’t call was … I was afraid to be alone with you. I knew how much I wanted you. I’m thirty-three years old and here I was, trying to fight feelings that I had never had before.”
“How long have you known you were gay?”
“I started considering the possibility the last time I slept with a man,” Cassie admitted.
“How long ago was that?” Luke asked quietly.
Cassie shrugged. “Six, seven years ago.”
Luke squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry. So many years of pretendŹing,” Luke said.
“Yes. I could never, ever acknowledge an attraction to a woman,” she said. “I wouldn’t let a woman get close. I was too scared.” She shrugged. “Besides, I was introduced around here as Kim’s straight friend. I’ve always been teased that I’m just the honŹorary lesbian in the group.”
“And guys?” Luke prodded.
“I dated occasionally. A few kisses, nothing more.” She turned
to Luke. “I didn’t have any desire for sex. None.” Cassie leaned over and kissed Luke on the mouth. “Then I saw you on the sideŹwalk that day, and I knew my life would never be the same. I knew that day, when you turned around and caught me staring, that I wanted you … sexually. I knew that at that very moment. I just couldn’t accept it. And when I met you, feelings that I didn’t even know were inside of me came out, and I couldn’t handle it.”
“What if I hadn’t rescued you in the storm? We might never have become friends.”
“You thought I was gay,” Cassie reminded her.
Luke laughed. “You were!”
“Yes, but I wasn’t nearly ready to admit it to anyone. Certainly not to you. I mean, you were the one causing me all this stress.”
Their eyes were gentle on each other, and Luke brought Cassie’s hand to her lips and kissed it.
“I didn’t mean to cause you stress. I just couldn’t stay away from you. I want to be with you. I want us to get to know each other better. But I’m not entirely certain what you want from this.”
Cassie held her gaze, seeing uncertainty in her eyes. She wonŹdered how a beautiful, strong woman like Luke could be insecure.
“Now that I’ve been with a woman, you think I might want to go out and sample the local gals? Make up for lost time?” Cassie asked lightly.
“Do you?” Luke asked weakly.
“Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said?” She kissed Luke softly on the lips, then whispered, “There’s only you.” She smiled, her lips still pressed firmly against Luke. “I feel like I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Cassie drove home in a bit of a daze, her mind wandering back to the two days she had spent with Luke. She had come home only briefly on Sunday, to shower and change into clean clothes. Then she had gone back to Luke’s, and they spent a lazy day exploring Luke’s meadow and woods, then lounging on her deck, talking and sharing stories as if they were old friends. When the rain chased them indoors, they cooked an early dinner, far too much for the two of them, but they both found they enjoyed cooking together. They had gone to bed early, but they hardly slept, neither had wanted to. Now, the steady rain of the day before gave way to brilliant sunŹshine, and she fumbled in her backpack, looking for sunglasses.
Once again, her mind went back to the incredibly intimate night they had spent together. Her stomach rolled when she thought of them together and all they had done. Her lips were tender and swollen, and she thought that her passion was sated, but just the thought of making love with Luke brought back all of
the heat and desire of last night. She felt her nipples harden and strain against the T-shirt she was wearing, Luke’s T-shirt. Then she laughed. She looked a sight, she knew. They could not find her panties this morning, so she did without. And in her rush to get to Luke the day before, she had not bothered with a bra. Now her breasts were swollen, taut, still aching for Luke’s hands and mouth. Even as she had left Luke this morning, Luke’s hands were still touching her, her mouth still calling her.
And Cassie hadn’t wanted to leave, but Luke had to make a trip to the city, and Cassie needed to work. She felt inspired, thank goodness. She had decided to do the Christmas fair after all, if only to bring the handful of smaller carvings that usually sold so well during the holidays. She shrugged. And the seal. Maybe someone would take a liking to her. The Christmas fair kicked off the week after Thanksgiving and was open every Saturday until Christmas. Because the costs of the booths were higher than the outdoor fairs, she and Kim always shared one, although she doubted she would have enough inventory to last that long.
The thought of telling Kim everything that had happened the last few days made her blush. Kim would want to know details. Every detail. She only hoped she wouldn’t tease her too much. Especially on Thanksgiving, as she had invited Luke to share dinner with them. She knew Kim and Lisa wouldn’t mind.
She drove into the driveway, her thoughts alternating between working and Luke’s exquisite body when she slammed on her brakes.
“Oh … my … God!” Her pulse accelerated and her palms turned damp with nervousness. Shit!
There was her father, leaning against his old Ford, arms folded across his chest as he waited for her.
“Fuck! Shit!” She stopped her van next to his car and took a deep breath. What in the world was he doing here? And now, of all times.
“Well, Cassandra, I see you do still live here.”
She slammed her door shut, and it took all of her courage to
face him. He was an intimidating man, well over six feet tall. His hair had turned steel gray but his eyes were the same piercing blue that she remembered from her childhood.
“Hello, Father. What are you doing here?”
“It is Thanksgiving,” he said pointedly.
She looked bewildered, wondering if her day and night with Luke had taken her around the
clock more than once. “It’s … Monday,” she finally stammered.
“So it is.” Then he frowned, his eyes piercing hers. “And where have you been?” he demanded.
“At a friend’s,” she said quietly. How dare he? How dare he show up here … at her house … and demand answers to her whereabouts?
“I called you all day yesterday. And late last night,” he added. “I arrived here very early this morning. I was worried about you. It’s been awhile since I’ve heard from you.”
She swallowed with difficulty and averted her eyes. Once again, she was a child, and she stood to suffer the wrath of her father. It was very obvious that she wore no bra, and she resisted the urge to cover herself.
“Girl, you best not be living in sin!” he boomed. “I raised you better.” His finger shook at her and she wondered why she was allowing him his say. “Now, out with it. What kind of man keeps a young girl out all night?”
She summoned all her courage and squared her shoulders, finally meeting his eyes. “I’m not a child. I’m a thirty-three-year-old woman, and I don’t answer to you anymore.”
“Nonsense! I’m still your father, and you are still my responsiŹbility. When you take a husband, then he can watch over you.”
His voice was raised, his finger shaking at her, and she couldn’t take it another second.
“I am not your responsibility, and I don’t need someone to watch over me! I have been on my own, supporting myself since the day I moved out of your house. Jesus Christ! You can’t come here…”
“Don’t speak to me like that! I’ll not have it!” his voice boomed.
Cassie lowered her eyes, surprised at her outburst. “This is my home,” she said quietly. “We haven’t seen each other in two years. Must we start out with a fight?”
When he didn’t answer, she asked, “Are you staying through Thanksgiving?”
“It is a time for family,” he said, and his voice had calmed, too. “As you said, it’s been two years. I thought we could spend some time together. I’m not getting any younger, you know. I waited for your invitation, but you never called. And when I couldn’t reach you, I thought something was wrong. Apparently …”
“Don’t start,” she warned, cutting him off. She would not allow him to place guilt on her again. Jesus, what a way to spoil a perŹfectly wonderful day.
“Do you need help with your bag?” she offered.
“I can manage.”
He lifted his worn suitcase from the trunk, then followed her to the house. “I don’t want you to go to any trouble. I thought we could take in Thanksgiving dinner at one of the cafes in town.”
“I already have plans … with Kim and Lisa,” she said. And Luke. God, wouldn’t this be fun.
“Kim? You still haven’t come to your senses, girl?”
She kept her back to him as she opened the front door. “Kim is my best friend.”
“She’s a sinner,” he spat.
“She’s a lesbian,” Cassie corrected, surprised how easily the word came out of her mouth.
“I’ll not have you use that word in my presence!” his voice resounded.
She turned back to face him, her face red. “Why must you always come here and start a fight? Can’t we have a normal father-daughter conversation for once?”
“I’m trying to save you, girl!”
“Well, I’ll take my chances, thanks,” she murmured.
“Don’t let her bring you down, Cassandra,” he continued.
“Whatever.” She rubbed her temples. It was hard for her to believe that only an hour ago, she was still in Luke’s arms.
Her father grabbed her arm and spun her around, towering over her as if she was a child again.
“She will suffer eternal damnation! Do not doubt my words. She is nothing but trouble.”
Cassie opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. What could she say to him? That Kim wasn’t the only one in danger?
“Please,” she begged. “I don’t want to argue with you. If you plan to stay through Thanksgiving, I won’t have this conversation with you.” Then she straightened her shoulders. “If not, you can go right back to the city.”
Her father released her arm, finally. “I pray for you,” he whisŹpered.
“Thanks,” she said sarcastically. “That means a lot.”
She wanted a cigarette.
Instead, she busied herself making coffee, cursing her weakness when it came to her father. She wasn’t a child, for Christ’s sake. And it wasn’t as if she relied on him for support, emotional or othŹerwise. But a small part of her resisted severing that last tie between them. He was the only family she had.
“You haven’t called me since summer.”
She stiffened, but refused to turn to face him. Their last phone conversation had ended in an argument.
“I’ve been busy,” she said vaguely.
“Oh, yes. With your art.’”
Cassie’s eyes flashed. It was as if he enjoyed sparring with her over her chosen profession. She turned to face him, her eyes still shimmering with anger.
“It pays the bills.”
“I don’t know why you won’t just get a real job.”
“A real job, Father?”
“A respectable job.”
Cassie managed to bring a quick smile to her face. “I am quite respected in my field, thanks. And I’ve long given up hope that you might someday be proud of me.”
She brushed past him, satisfied to see that her words had hit their mark. The bridge: between them had grown too large. She realized she no longer cared if she hurt him. It was like he was a stranger to her now.
It wasn’t until she was standing under the hot spray of her shower that she allowed her thoughts to go to Luke. She shivered when she remembered Luke’s hands and mouth on her and her own nearly insatiable desire to touch Luke.
And again she was angry with her father. How was she to explain to Luke that she couldn’t see her tonight? Luke would never understand Cassie’s fear of her father.
Well, she would have to deal with it soon enough. Luke was going to call her when she got back from the city. She planned to come over to Cassie’s and they were going to cook a meal together. And after that, they would be in each other’s arms again. Cassie didn’t know what was bettergoing to sleep with Luke’s arms wrapped around her, or waking with those same arms holding her.
And even though she was angry with her father, a part of her wondered if she had a right to be. He was getting older, and she was the only family he had. And it was Thanksgiving. She could make the sacrifice for a few days.
He did look older, she thought. And tired. She quickly calcuŹlated his age at sixty-six, but he looked years older than that.
When she went back into the living room, he was seated in her recliner, eyes closed, and she thought that he was sleeping. His voice startled her when he spoke.
“I don’t want to keep you from anything.”
“I was just going to go out to my workshop,” she said.
“I’ve been admiring the squirrel you have here.”
Again he surprised her. The small squirrel was perched on the table next to her recliner and by her own admission, it wasn’t very good. But it was one of her earliest attempts, one she had done when she was still in college, and it had become special to her. A reminder of her innocence, perhaps, or how far she’d come as an artist.
“You’re welcome to come out to my workshop and look around,” she offered, clearly surprising him as well as herself.
They made the walk in silence, Cassie wracking her brain for a neutral topic, but nothing came. She was secretly pleased as his eyes widened when he saw her work, and she realized that this was the first time he had seen any of her carvings.
He walked slowly to one of the eagles, his hand tentatively reaching out to touch, then he stopped.
“It’s okay to touch them,” she said with a smile. “They won’t bite.”
“My goodness, it
looks so real,” he murmured. His eyes lifted to Cassie’s, and she saw sadness there. “I never realized.”
“Realized what?”
“That you were this … talented.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat with difficulty. Despite everything that was between them, it meant so much to her to hear him utter those words, words she never would have believed he was capable of saying to her.
“Thank you.”
“What would this cost?”
“Four thousand.”
He literally gasped, and she grinned at the look on his face.
“I had no idea.”
He cleared his throat and moved away from the eagle, quietly inspecting the other pieces she had before moving to the shelves that housed her smaller carvings. He gingerly picked up another squirrel and turned it over in his hands.
“You have a lot of squirrels,” he said quietly.
She shrugged. She’d never thought about it really. Eagles, sure. They were her trademark, but as she surveyed the shelf, she noticed that she indeed did have a number of squirrels, all in difŹferent poses, with different expressions.
“Your mother loved squirrels,” he said softly.
She felt her heart tighten. It was the first time he had menŹtioned her since she was a child.
“She used to feed them in the backyard,” he continued. “You would sit on her lap and laugh as they ventured close. I remember
the first time one ate out of your hand. You were barely four, and I was so afraid it would bite you, but she kept insisting you would be fine.”
Cassie felt tears well in her eyes as she tried to remember her mother and her lost childhood. She wanted to ask a thousand questions, but he suddenly turned and hurried from the shop. She didn’t stop him. Instead, she picked up the squirrel he had been holding and clutched it to her. She closed her eyes, trying to picŹture herself as a child, sitting on her mother’s lap. She wondered if she looked like her mother. She certainly didn’t resemble him. Only the eyes, she corrected. She had his blue eyes.
