Where the Light Plays

by C. Fonseca

  She’d connected with Andi almost immediately. They shared a love of nature, fitness, and art. Just being around her elicited a powerful physical response.

  Her friend Kiera was a scientist. She would explain away the initial giddiness and arousal to the presence of dopamine. Was it the chemical that caused her heart to race when she was around Andi? Caitlin wanted more, felt more, than just carnal intimacy. But what was she willing to offer Andi?

  Erica’s bloody interns! Why they’d told Andi about Erica was beyond her comprehension. Gossip? Telling stories about their boss? Whatever the reason, now she had to deal with the fallout.

  Assuming Andi ever gave her a chance to explain.

  When Andi questioned her about Erica, she’d been unprepared—taken off guard. She should have responded directly and told Andi about her dalliance with Erica. It was time for Caitlin to acknowledge that there was a difference between her experiences with Andi and those with Erica.

  She looked across at the dining chair. Memories of their morning flooded her senses. She kicked the skirting board below the kitchen bench.

  Caitlin wanted to touch her, kiss her, hold her. She just wanted Andi.

  CHAPTER 19

  Andi rolled a thin layer of paint onto a canvas she’d prepared earlier. The cadmium red and raw sienna would give a transparent-toned ground, allowing light falling onto the canvas to radiate through the paint layers and to illuminate the entire surface.

  She used a broad, flat brush with a long handle. It was perfect for covering the canvas with quick, dramatic strokes. Andi mopped the beads of sweat from her brow. Her body was taut and vibrated with emotion like the colours on the canvas.

  In February 2009, Andi’s first year in Hakea, a series of horrific bushfires across Victoria had left carnage and devastation in their wake.

  Even though the coastal town had been spared, smoke had drifted along with the clouds and filled the air with the acrid smell of burning wood and dust. Andi’s chest tightened as she recalled how the lives of so many had changed that day.

  She used a palette knife to apply violet and neutral grey, in order to capture the rhythm of elongated clouds. To highlight the subtle manipulation of colour and tone, she cut in the ivory, black, and ultramarine shadows and used a thick, round brush with yellow ochre and flake white to create splatters.

  A final layer of semitransparent vermillion over the entire surface created the desired effect of glowing heat. The sky was blood red and saffron with celestial, clear rays of luminous white. Firestorm Sunset.

  Andi stepped back and examined the finished painting. It captured the fine lines between fascination and danger, beauty and horror, light and darkness. She was exhausted.

  Her emotions matched the painting—a collage of experience and intensity. Regret. She’d behaved like a child. Guilt. Ellie and Meagan had tried to talk to her this morning, but she’d taken off. Jealousy. She didn’t want to share Caitlin with Erica. Or any other lover. Passion. Caitlin’s naked body beneath hers. Loss. It was possible that she’d stuffed it up completely.

  * * *

  Andi yawned sleepily and set Koda down in front of her food bowl. It was Monday, and she’d slept in. Being at odds with Ellie, in addition to where she’d left things with Caitlin, was making her sick. On top of everything else, she was feeling sorry for herself.

  Last night, she’d finally responded to Ellie’s texts by sending a short reply.

  I’m fine. Talk later in the week.

  It wouldn’t be as easy to appease Caitlin. She’d ignored her messages, but early this morning, she’d dealt with Caitlin’s texts with monosyllabic replies.

  Are you okay? You haven’t returned my calls. Caitlin x

  Fine.

  I’m glad you are fine. But you still haven’t returned my calls. Caitlin

  Later.

  Fine!

  Andi looked at the painting she’d completed last night. Firestorm Sunset reflected everything she’d felt since leaving Melbourne yesterday. It was an outpouring of her current turmoil, mixed with the helplessness and anguish she had experienced on Black Saturday in 2009.

  She carried her bowl of muesli and a cup of coffee to her desk, and dropped carelessly into her chair. What was she supposed to do now? Andi didn’t want to phone Caitlin, because she was confused and couldn’t bear the thought of saying the wrong thing and upsetting her more than she already had. Until she knew exactly how she felt and what to say, it was better for her to simply not talk.

  Instead, she opened the messenger app on her phone and re-read Caitlin’s texts for the twentieth time. The words hadn’t changed, and she struggled to reconcile the simplicity of the texts with the complicated reactions of her body and the intensity of her feelings.

  She slumped in the chair, head in her hands, and grabbed at her hair in frustration.

  Thud.

  Koda raced around in circles, and the frenetic movement mirrored her own state of mind.

  A sharp knock on the door halted Koda in her tracks.

  “Koda, I’m not in the mood for visitors,” Andi said with a moan.

  The knocking grew even more insistent. Obviously, whoever was there couldn’t read her mind. Still wearing her pink shorty pajamas with the teddy bear motif, Andi dragged herself out of her chair.

  She shrugged to herself. “I hope it’s not the Seventh Day Adventists again.” She cautiously opened the front door, prepared to tell the unsolicited visitors that she did not need saving, except, maybe, from herself.

  As the door swung wide, Caitlin came into view. She stood at the entrance shaking her head. She visibly sucked in a deep breath and then let it out very slowly as she scanned Andi from the top of her head down to her sheepskin UGG boots. She brushed past her and into the house.

  Andi was incapable of speech as Caitlin paced back and forth in the short distance between her and the workbench. Her flat-ankle boots sharply echoed Caitlin’s anger on the timber floorboards, each step reverberating through the house.

  “Caitlin. I didn’t know you were…” Andi bit her lower lip and moved towards Caitlin. Koda meowed loudly.

  A few metres from Andi, Caitlin stopped pacing. Her stormy expression made Andi shudder. Caitlin held up her hands. “No, please don’t say anything.” She pushed her hair roughly from her face and began to pace again.

  Andi walked over to her desk and sat down heavily in the chair. “I was just going to email you…really,” she stuttered.

  Caitlin walked over to Andi. “Really? No, Andi, I need to say this first.” She placed one hand on each arm of the swivel chair and turned Andi to look directly into her eyes.

  Andi held her breath. Caitlin’s eyes were dark—the colour of starless midnight.

  She spoke slowly, enunciating each word succinctly. “You did not answer any of my calls.”

  Andi looked in every direction. Anywhere but Caitlin’s face—which was flushed with anger.

  Caitlin traced a finger along the line of Andi’s jaw and turned her face to meet her gaze. “It was an intense weekend—for both of us.” She sighed heavily, and her voice softened. “Andi, this is so new. We’ve had so much fun together over the last month. I’ve loved being with you.” Crouching down so their eyes were on the same level, she said, “Do you understand why I’ve been angry?”

  Andi chewed her lip. “I would have called you. I know I’ve been acting irrationally, but I feel…a little crazy.” Tears formed at the corners of her eyes. She blinked, ducked under Caitlin’s arm, and started towards the kitchen. “I need a glass of water.”

  She returned and placed two glasses on the coffee table. “I’m sorry if I made you worry and feel that you had to drive all the way here.” She rubbed her temples to ward off her developing headache.

  Caitlin sat in the chair across from Andi. “I just wanted to know you were okay.” She pulled her seat closer and grasped Andi’s hands.

  “I’m sorry, Caitlin.”

  “It’s not only your fault.
I should have insisted that we talk on Saturday night.” Caitlin drew her into a comforting embrace. “I’m sorry,” she said and looked into Andi’s eyes. “I want you to feel that you can ask me anything.” She smiled reassuringly. “I would like us to be able to talk, no matter… I care about you and promise to answer you as truthfully as I can. I’m out of practice, but…” She raised her eyebrows. “Not out of practice telling the truth,” Caitlin clarified. “I meant out of practice explaining my actions or reasons. But I will try. Is that okay?”

  Andi nodded her head. “Yes.”

  “So.” Caitlin sat straighter in her chair. “Do you want to start now? No avoidance tactics on my part.”

  Andi rolled her head from side to side, trying to ease the muscles in her neck, hoping to shift her headache.

  “Yes.”

  Caitlin tilted her head to one side. “Do you have a sore neck?”

  Andi squinted. The sunlight streaming into the room made her head pound even more.

  “Do you need to take something? Can I get you an aspirin?” Caitlin asked.

  “I took one a few minutes ago. It should start working soon,” Andi said. “I’ll be okay.”

  Caitlin ran a soothing hand through Andi’s hair. It was almost enough to make her forget the conversation they needed to have. Almost. But not quite.

  Andi sat up straight and frowned. “At Ellie’s party, the couple who work at Edge seemed to think that you and Erica are in a relationship.” She stared at Caitlin. “Are you?”

  Caitlin gulped her water and put the glass down. “No, Andi, I’m not. I wouldn’t be here with you if I were.” She reached for Andi’s hand. “Erica and I are not a couple. We move in the same circles and have spent time together. We shared a brief, physical relationship.” Caitlin squeezed Andi’s fingers. “I won’t be going there from now on.”

  “Good. I guess that answers that question, doesn’t it?” She looked fixedly at Caitlin. “Are you involved with anyone else?”

  Caitlin shook her head. “No. I’ve preferred to keep things casual, and one at a time is enough.”

  Andi stretched out on the sofa, removed her boots, and propped her feet on a cushion. She hadn’t been wrong about Erica. If only she’d given Caitlin the opportunity to explain on Saturday night, they could have avoided all this anxiety.

  “If I hadn’t been such an idiot, you would have had the chance to tell me. I’m sorry I didn’t give you that chance.”

  “I’m here now, and we are talking.” Caitlin leaned across and tugged Andi’s pink teddy bear shorts. “Very cute, by the way. Adorable.”

  “But you rushed all the way here on a Monday morning. I’m sorry you had to do that.”

  “I didn’t have to. I wanted to.”

  Andi started to sit up.

  Caitlin placed her hand on Andi’s shoulder. “Lie back and relax. Stay. At least till your headache lifts.”

  Andi leaned back into the sofa. Caitlin walked across the room and picked up the bag she’d thrown inside the door when she’d arrived. Andi angled her head on the pillow. Caitlin removed her lightweight denim jacket, and Andi loved the way her black jeans perfectly accentuated her long legs. Caitlin was beautiful and expressive. She was capable of switching from playful to passionate—persuasive to intense—within seconds. Through her insecurities, Andi had nearly blown it.

  Caitlin approached the painting that leaned against the far wall. She studied the canvas, and then looked inquiringly back at Andi. “When did you do this?”

  “Yesterday.”

  Caitlin evaluated the image for a few moments. “It’s…breathtaking.” She was silent for what seemed to be forever. Finally, she said, “You’ve captured the intensity and power. I can feel the heat and energy, yet there is also an ethereal, peaceful quality.”

  Andi closed her eyes. Caitlin could seemingly look through her painting and see the rawness and passion Andi felt.

  “A great fire burns within me, but no one stops to warm themselves at it, and passers-by only see a wisp of smoke.”

  “What is that?” Andi asked.

  “It’s a quote from Vincent van Gogh.” She turned to Andi. “I love your painting.”

  “Thank you.” Andi stared. She was just scratching the surface. There was so much to discover about Caitlin. Suddenly, it was vitally important that she had the opportunity to do that.

  “I was so frustrated that you ran back here and wouldn’t talk to me.” Caitlin returned to sit in the chair across from the sofa.

  “I know.” Andi glanced at her painting. “I couldn’t. Sometimes, I have to paint to express my feelings instead of using words.”

  “I think you’ve done that,” she said.

  Koda jumped up behind Caitlin to use the green material as a scratching post and startled her. “Crikey!” Caitlin sprang out of the chair. “Well, that will shorten my life.” She sat back in her chair. “How’s your headache?”

  “Much better, the painkiller’s working. I think it’s time for me to hit the shower.” Andi slowly pulled herself into an upright position.

  “Has the headache actually gone?”

  Andi smiled. She was so relieved that the tension between them had eased. “Yep, it has. I won’t be long in the shower.” She stood and Caitlin moved to her, pressing herself into Andi’s side, tucking her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts.

  Maybe not all the tension had gone.

  Caitlin lowered her head to Andi’s ear. “I thought I could keep you company in the shower. Help to relieve that tightness in your neck and shoulders. Make sure your headache doesn’t return.”

  Caitlin held out her hand and led Andi to the shower. She knew they had a lot of things to negotiate. This was a beginning, and she was happy for Caitlin allowing it.

  CHAPTER 20

  As Andi secured the zip on her wetsuit, Caitlin indulged in their physical closeness and enjoyed the brush of Andi’s hand against her neck. Andi moved carefully and lingered with her fingers lightly resting on Caitlin’s cool skin. Tension and relaxation, movement and stillness. After so much worry, irritation, and frustration, their shower together that morning had been a sensual discovery.

  Caitlin inhaled sharply at the memory of Andi’s silken body, rivulets of water cascading down; her taut nipples pressed against Caitlin’s overheated skin. She’d run her hand up and down the gentle arc of Andi’s waist, tracing the swell of her hip. With her other hand, she’d braced against the cool green tiles for support. Andi’s thumb had moved so slowly over Caitlin’s sensitive flesh. Her legs weakening at Andi’s touch, she’d shuddered as the first delicious burst of pleasure rolled through her body, and she’d melted into Andi’s arms.

  “Caitlin. Are you listening?”

  At the sound of her name, she refocused on what Andi was saying.

  “This is called a mini-mal. Best choice for a beginner, because it’s easy to paddle,” Andi said eagerly. “The waves are small today, so this is a perfect board for you to start with.”

  “I’m in your hands. You’re the expert.” Caitlin smiled and stretched out her arms. The dry wetsuit was stiff and restricted her movements.

  “You look awesome in my spring suit. You fill out all the curves much better than I do.” Andi’s brown eyes gleamed. “Okay, I think we’ve practiced enough on the sand. Let’s get out on the water.”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure I’ll be able to stand up on this.” Caitlin lifted up the eight-foot board. “This is much heavier than I thought it would be.”

  “Don’t worry about that. Once you get it in the water, you won’t notice the weight. We could have used a foam board for your first time out, but with your height, this will be easier for you to stand. You’ve already told me you’re a strong swimmer.” Andi looked to Caitlin for confirmation and waited until Caitlin nodded before she continued. “I’ll be right there with you all the way. If you remember those few things I told you, everything will be good. You’ll be a surfer chick in no time.”
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  Andi glowed with joy. Her sparkle was contagious, and Caitlin, unable to contain her own happiness, laughed along with her.

  Caitlin gathered her hair and pulled it through a scrunchie. “So, first I look on both sides. If anyone is on the wave before I take off, I stop paddling. You said, ‘Don’t drop off?’”

  Andi giggled. “Don’t drop in. You’ll just annoy the other surfers if you do that.” Andi adjusted her wetsuit, picked up her 60+ ultra-light, and stood before Caitlin. “Let’s get this on you, and then we’re set.” She squeezed a liberal amount of the sunscreen on her fingertips and applied it to Caitlin’s face.

  “Okay. So you said to paddle wide?” Caitlin asked. “Keep my eyes on everything. Paddle out where you go, because you know where the rip current is? And if I do get caught in a rip, don’t panic, go with it, not against it.” Caitlin screwed up her nose as Andi covered it with white cream.

  “You’ve got it. Now, let’s surf.”

  Caitlin fastened the Velcro strap around her ankle and picked up the attached board. Andi gave her a thumbs up, and they made their way to the water.

  Careful not to lose her footing on the slippery rocks, she eased her body off the rock shelf, onto her board, and into the surf.

  Andi called out, “Remember, above all else, enjoy yourself.”

  Andi was a patient and encouraging instructor.

  Caitlin took a deep breath and followed Andi. She shivered as the cold water trickled down her neck and seeped into the wetsuit.

  After catching small waves for nearly an hour, belly down on the board, Caitlin was confident that she could stand up. The water swirled around her, the thunderous noise sometimes hissing and gushing. She clung to the board and looked up. The shore seemed miles away.