The Right Time

by Susan X Meagher

  Slowly, Townsend rolled her onto her back, then lay on top of her, pressing herself heavily into Hennessy. The kiss went on and on, with Townsend’s hands going to Hennessy’s hair to hold her still. For just a heartbeat, she was back on her heels again. But she sucked in a breath, with Townsend’s calming scent centering her.

  Without consciously telling it to, one of Hennessy’s hands roamed up and down Townsend’s back, paused to cup her ass, then squeeze, with that electrical charge now throbbing along her fingers. All the while, the kiss continued, their tongues darting and swirling in each other’s mouths.

  Hennessy’s heart was beating so hard she was sure it would burst, but she could feel an equally wild beat from Townsend, which once again calmed her enough to let her take every sensation in. Finally, Hennessy began to pull away, but Townsend held on tenaciously, slipping a leg between Hennessy’s thighs and pressing against her. Hennessy shifted her hips gently, purring as she did. That broke the spell, with Townsend’s soft laugh reaching her ears.

  “My God,” Hennessy moaned. “Is it always like that?” She was on her back, looking up as a flock of pelicans soared overhead, their bodies sleek and aerodynamic. She felt a pang of sorrow for the birds. Yes, they could fly, but they’d never be able to share a kiss with someone they loved.

  It took Townsend a minute to reply. She reached out and grasped Hennessy’s hand, then brought it to her lips for a kiss. When she spoke, her voice was as smooth as glass. “It’s never been like that for me. That was…magical.”

  Hennessy rolled onto her side, avidly studying Townsend’s face. “It was, wasn’t it?”

  “It was.” She chuckled. “As you would say, it truly was.”

  The wind was sending little clouds of sand across the beach, with sanderlings skittering along in front of the tiny storms. “How can I be so hot on such a cool day? I feel like taking my clothes off and jumping into the ocean.”

  “That’s pure sexual excitement, baby girl. Get used to it, ’cause I plan on feeding you a steady diet of it for the rest of your life.”

  “Thank God we go to school in different states,” Hennessy moaned. “Now that I’ve felt that, I could never keep my hands off you for six more months.” She grasped the hem of her sweater and fanned it up and down, trying to get some cool air on her heated skin. “Just for the record, do most kisses involve a knee to the groin? I mean…I didn’t mind, but I wanna be prepared next time.”

  Townsend grabbed her tightly, and rolled on top of her again, looking down at her smiling face. “How would you prepare?”

  Hennessy laughed. “I have no earthly idea. But I’m beginning to understand how people get carried away—even when they’re just kissing.”

  “That was some kiss,” Townsend sighed. “Absolutely the best one I’ve ever had.”

  “Your best and my first,” Hennessy whispered. “That’s the way it should be.”

  Townsend gazed into Hennessy’s eyes, her smile warm enough to melt stone. “That’s exactly the way it should be. Every thing we do will be a first—for both of us.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  On Christmas day, Townsend stepped away from the scene that had the backyard in shambles. You’d think people who cooked for a living wouldn’t freak out over sticking a turkey in a pot of hot oil, but they acted like they were getting ready to launch a rocket headed for Mars. There were so many opinions flying around, temperatures being checked with three different thermometers and commands to stay clear that Townsend was sure no one would miss her if she snuck away for a minute.

  She walked along the side of the house, the coarse, prickly weed-like grass tickling her ankles as she moved. The porch, really just an elevated slab of concrete, looked like a good place to sit. The sun was shining on her face, and she tilted her chin to feel its warmth. After dialing her grandparents’ home, a very refined, Brahmin-accented voice answered. “Jameson residence. This is Frances speaking.”

  Sense memory settled over her like fog. A warm kitchen filled with servers loading up canapé trays, two or three cooks, hired for the day, laboring over the stoves. And her grandmother, all dolled up in a Chanel suit, calmly directing the organized chaos. Always with a mug of wassail in her well-manicured hand. Fond Christmas memories. “Hi, Gram,” Townsend said, her throat constricting with emotion. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Oh, Townsend! We were just speaking of you. How is your trip?”

  “It’s going really well. How about you? Having a big shindig?”

  Frances laughed. “Of course. You know us. Any excuse to polish the silver. But we all miss you. Christmas just isn’t the same without you, sweetheart.”

  The knot in her throat was tough to swallow around, but she managed. “Yeah. I miss you too, Gram. Is my mom there? I wanted to toss some Christmas cheer her way.”

  “She is.” Frances lowered her voice slightly. “I think she’s coming down with something, but she insists she’s fine.”

  “Is she working on a new book? You know how late she stays up when she’s writing.”

  “Maybe that’s it. It took Genevieve the longest time to convince her to leave her bed, but we had guests coming in an hour!”

  After all this time, Townsend wasn’t sure if her grandparents were intentionally in the dark about her mother’s drug habit, or if they really were dense. Either way, she wasn’t going to be the one to start telling the truth. “Oh, she’s definitely on a writing binge. Don’t worry about it, Gram.”

  “I’ll try. But you never really let go when you have a child, sweetheart. You’ll learn someday.”

  “Can’t wait,” she said, chuckling. She’d raise zebras before kids, but it didn’t hurt to let her grandmother have her little fantasies.

  After a while, her mother picked up the phone. “I hear things are going swimmingly in…where are you again?”

  “Zanzibar. Hey, will you do me a favor?”

  “I might. Will you be polite for the duration of the call?”

  Doing the math, Townsend decided that was an easy goal. “Sure. I don’t plan on talking long. Here’s the deal. I need for you to write an excuse for me. You can say whatever you want, but I need it sent, regular mail, to the reformatory. It’d be ideal if it was there by the time I got back.”

  “What am I excusing you from?” She definitely sounded sleepy. Or high. Probably both. “Aren’t you on school break? You don’t need an excuse to be on break, do you?”

  “No, Mom. I need an excuse for being gone longer than my break. I only got two weeks, but Hennessy got three, so I took three. I need an excuse to cover the gap.”

  “I’m not sure I want to help,” Miranda sniffed, now weepy and dramatic, sure signs the drugs were wearing off. “You only call to ask for favors.”

  “It doesn’t make much difference to me one way or the other. But if I’m unexcused, they’ll probably boot me. I guess I don’t care if I get a high school diploma or not…”

  A long, shuddering breath sounded through the line. “I heard your request, Townsend. Your excuse will be on the premises before you are. Are we through?”

  “I guess we are. I hope you’re having a nice Christmas, Mom.”

  “Thank you. I wish the same for you. Do I have the address I need to send the letter?”

  “Mmm, you’d better put Gram on again. I’ll have her take down the details.” Wow. She was really out of it today. Somebody had gotten her Christmas cheer on in a big way!

  It had been warm all week, at least to Townsend. Hennessy was still chilly when the nighttime temps dipped into the low fifties, but she was clearly a delicate flower that needed warmth and sun to bloom. She got just what she wanted on New Year’s Eve. By ten it was already seventy-five, and she danced around on the beach like she’d been infused with energy.

  They’d left the house early, headed for Hilton Head. It had only been four months since camp had ended, but Townsend missed it. Missed it in a way she couldn’t really explain, but that Hennessy enthusiastically s
hared.

  It was a vastly different place in the winter. Very small crowds, mostly families from bigger southern cities who owned vacation homes in one of the developments. Of course there were many permanent residents who kept the whole place running—just like on the Cape or the Vineyard. But these hardy souls didn’t have to shovel two feet of snow or risk being cut off from the mainland due to winter storms. Southerners were definitely a less hardy bunch, but when you added a little sun and a warm breeze, some tropical flowers were absolutely irresistible.

  Hennessy’s shoes were off, their laces tied together, the canvas thumping against her chest and back after she’d tossed them over a shoulder. If she could have done cartwheels, she would definitely be doing them now. Instead, she jogged for a while, then would stop to point out something she found endlessly fascinating when Townsend caught up to her.

  Hennessy stopped, feet planted shoulder-width apart, her hair blowing back off her face as the warm air ruffled it. “There,” she insisted, pointing once again at a bird Townsend couldn’t make out.

  “I think I’ve got it,” Townsend said, squinting into the sun. “What’s it got in its mouth?”

  Hennessy turned to give her a puzzled glance. “In its mouth? How can you see what’s in its mouth?”

  “There’s something orange…”

  “That’s his bill,” Hennessy said, starting to laugh. The sun caught the side of her face, illuminating her gorgeous eyes so they glowed, with flecks of gold standing out so brightly the blue faded into the background. Townsend just stared at her, her heart hammering with love for this lighthearted, carefree Hennessy. The woman who lurked inside the serious, sober, ridiculously conscientious student.

  Townsend slid her arm around Hennessy, hugging her close, smelling her clean, salty scent. “If I were a bird, I’d be an oystercatcher. Not sure I’d like that long-assed nose, though.”

  “I wish he’d find an oyster,” Hennessy said thoughtfully. “Then you’d see how that beak works.” She snapped her fingers, the sound sharp and crisp over the soft lapping of the gentle waves. “He can dig into that shell like it’s nothing.”

  Townsend pulled her down and kissed her salty cheek. “I love how much you know about all of this stuff.”

  “You’ll learn it, too,” Hennessy said as she draped her arm around Townsend’s shoulders. They continued to walk through the cold surf. “It’s too fascinating not to take it all in.”

  Townsend turned her head to take a longer look at Hennessy. In her fantasy, they were living together in Boston. Maybe in a year—two max. When winter break hit, they’d swing by her grandparents’ house to soak up the Christmas spirit, then fly down to South Carolina for the more laid-back Boudreaux style holiday. Both of them would get what they needed. Simple, really.

  “Hey, wanna come back here for spring break?” Townsend asked. “I think we’re off at the same time.”

  “Mmm.” Now the serious Hennessy was back and Townsend kicked herself for waking her. “I’m not sure. I’ll only have a week, and airfare’s pretty high…”

  “We can always go to the Vineyard,” she said, tucking her arm around Hennessy’s waist and jostling her around. She loosened up when you played rough with her. “It won’t be as warm, but it’s awfully pretty.”

  “We’ll see,” the mature, withholding Hennessy replied. She controlled the vault and all the gold in it, locked up with the key well hidden. The only damned key. “It’s best not to count your chickens before they hatch. We’ve got a lot to work on this winter.”

  “That’s the sad truth. I’ve got to get my GPA up a point and a half to get into anything better than a community college.”

  Hennessy stopped and put her hands on Townsend’s shoulders. Her gaze was serious but not as sober as it often was when she was about to launch into a lecture. “That’s just school,” she insisted. “I’m talking about important stuff.”

  “I’m not going to drink,” Townsend snapped, annoyed at going over the same crap every two minutes.

  “I’m not talking about that. That’s a given,” Hennessy said. “I’m talking about building a relationship. We need to do this right,” she insisted, so earnest it was almost cute. “I’m going to work on loosening up and you’re going to work on…” A full, impish smile tugged at her lips. “Everything else.”

  Townsend wrapped both arms around her and tried to knock her off balance, but Hennessy was tall enough to use it to her advantage and fight her off. They both laughed as they pushed and pulled against one another, with Townsend surrendering first. “Truce!” she panted, her stamina still pretty sucky.

  Hennessy’s body relaxed a little and Townsend sidled up next to her as they started to walk again. “I know you’ve got a long list of things I’m supposed to be doing. You might as well give it to me. Do you have a slide presentation, or just handouts?”

  The look Hennessy gave her was filled with love. Just feeling that gentle gaze caress her face was better than a kiss. “It’s so simple, you don’t need a map.” Warm lips touched her cheek, leaving a tiny bit of moisture that the breeze evaporated in a second. “All you have to do is work on being patient.”

  “All done,” Townsend joked, slapping her hands together. “What’s next?”

  “I wish it was that easy,” Hennessy said, a sad smile making her look much older than eighteen. “I know you’d like to see each other more, but I can’t afford to. Can you be patient with me?” Her hands squeezed gently, anchoring Townsend to her like they were welded together.

  “I can. Of course I can,” she allowed. “But you’re trying to get comfortable with being more affectionate. Wouldn’t that be a heck of a lot easier while you were with the person you wanted to be affectionate with? I could easily come down to Boston any weekend—”

  Hennessy put a finger to her lips, cutting off her words. “No, Townsend. That won’t work. You need to stay in Vermont and keep things simple. Focus on your program and your grades. I’ll take care of myself.”

  “I’d much rather be taking care of you—in every way,” she insisted, sliding her arms around Hennessy again and pulling her close. A flock of pelicans silently flew over their heads, lined up in a chevron. Townsend tilted her head to watch them descend and glide a few feet above the bay, one veering off from the group to dive into the water and emerge with a fish dangling halfway out of his mouth. That’s just what she wanted to do with Hennessy—clamp her mouth onto her and never let go.

  “First things first,” Hennessy said, not budging an inch. “We’ll see how we’re doing at the end of the school year. Until then—we need to focus.”

  Townsend had spent hundreds of hours trying to think of a way to weaken Hennessy’s resolve, but it was hopeless. “Okay. But you’ll think about spending spring break together, right?”

  That lovely mouth started to slide into a grin, finally making such a nice one that Townsend’s matched it. “I’ll think about it,” she agreed. Moving closer, her lips just an inch from Townsend’s, she purred, “Thinking about how your lips feel is gonna take up half of my day. Might as well let fantasies about seeing you again take up the other.”

  Townsend grasped her shoulders and held her still while she closed the scant distance between them. As Hennessy’s tender lips briefly touched hers, a warm glow, reassuring and nurturing, infused her body. Everything was going to work out. They’d be together sooner, rather than later.

  On the second day of the new year, Townsend arrived back at the reformatory around three, thanks to a ride from her mother’s driver, Richard. They must have had a history, although she didn’t have any memory of meeting him. But she’d learned that when a guy acted jumpy and brought his wife along for support, she’d probably scared the hell out of him at one point. Hoping to make up for whatever she’d done, she sat quietly in the back, headphones filling her head with music. When they arrived, she got out and slipped him fifty bucks when he lifted her suitcase from the trunk.

  “Oh, you don’t
have to do that, Ms. Bartley,” he said, scowling at the cash.

  “I want to,” she insisted. “I’m sure I’ve caused you at least fifty dollars worth of headaches.”

  He gave her a reluctant smile. “Well, we don’t need to go over that.” Then he stuck his hand out, took the cash and stuffed it into his pocket.

  They must have been talking too long, for the guy’s wife got out and fixed Townsend with a very suspicious glare. Damn! What had she done to the poor guy?

  Hurriedly, he put her suitcase on the sidewalk and extended the handle towards her. “I’ve got to say, you seem…better.”

  “I am,” she agreed, liking how he’d phrased that. “I’ve come under a rare good influence.”

  She gave the wife a toothy grin and turned away from the couple. A foot of new snow had fallen during her absence, and she picked up her bag and tromped through it to get to her dorm. Of course, she could have used the sidewalk, which had been shoveled, but she preferred the path that cut through campus. Fighting through snow would send a clear message to her body that they were no longer in a temperate climate.

  The first unpleasant surprise was catching sight of some of her former friends, acting as though she wasn’t just a few dozen feet away. They were assholes. She blinked away the bright sun, which hovered just above the main building, ready to retreat for the day. Her new buddy, the kid she’d started hanging out with, was in the pack. But while the other douches ostentatiously turned their heads, Maddie at least made eye contact. It wasn’t much. But she had the decency to shrug helplessly before she turned away and jogged through the snow to catch up. The little bitch had tossed her over to hang with the cool kids, but she felt kinda bad about it. You could tell.

  A kernel of anger, always at the ready, bit at her to go grab the kid by the hair and hurl her to the ground before spitting in her face. Her hands twitched, the urge to grab her and do some kind of violence pulsing through her body. But that would just let Maddie know she’d gotten to her, and that wasn’t going to happen. Showing weakness was death.