The Right Time

by Susan X Meagher

  They kept walking, both silent as the graceful, gently curved street lamps came on, bathing everything in a warm, golden light. Turning a corner, Hennessy looked up, seeing just the top of the Eiffel Tower, sparkling like a beacon. Every time she saw the darned thing, she got a lump in her throat. She’d always been charmed by it. Since she was a little girl and saw it on TV. But she’d never had even a dream of seeing it in person. People in her station didn’t travel to Europe. But here she was, with a beautiful woman holding her in a loose embrace. It was too much for her to process all at once.

  When they stood in front of the apartment building the school used as a dorm, Hennessy stopped and took hold of both Kate’s hands. “I need to sleep on this.”

  Kate’s full, pink lips slid into a grin. “Great idea.”

  “Not that way,” Hennessy said, her laugh releasing some of the tension that made her feel like she might crack. “I need to think about it overnight. To make sure I’m clear-headed.”

  “All right.” Kate wrapped her in a soothing embrace, her presence like a suit of armor—able to protect Hennessy from harm. “Call me when you wake up. We’ll have breakfast.”

  “We didn’t get dinner. I might call at six a.m.”

  “No problem. I’ll be waiting.” Then she kissed her, briefly, and they walked into their building together, with Hennessy peeling off to go to her second floor room, pausing in the doorway to listen for Kate’s light tread as it floated up the stairs. Not five seconds had passed, but she already missed her.

  Surprisingly, Hennessy fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. When she woke at seven, she was fully rested and ready to go. After showering and dressing, her nerves begin to fray, until she was shaking as she dialed Kate’s number.

  “Good morning,” Kate said, wide awake. “I was afraid I’d scared you so badly you’d be on a plane going back home by now.”

  She could only let out a nervous laugh. “No, but I’m powerful nervous,” she admitted, sliding into her thickest accent.

  “Let’s go have breakfast. Are you ready?”

  “Meet you in front of the building.”

  Tingling with anticipation, Hennessy shifted her weight from one foot to the other, waiting impatiently. Then the door opened and Kate strode out, looking so fresh-faced and pretty that Hennessy’s knees began to wobble. “You look nice,” she said, swallowing nervously. As usual, Kate had a scarf artfully wrapped around her neck, this one a springtime green and yellow print.

  “You too,” Kate said, her appreciation evident in her avid gaze.

  They went to their local boulangerie, which had a counter where they could perch on stools and watch passersby. Kate had her usual croissant, and Hennessy stuck with a demi-baguette, slathered with blackberry jam. Her senses were so exquisitely alive, it tasted like the blackberries had been picked two minutes ago, sweet and tart and bursting with flavor. Big crumbs flew from the crusty bread, getting stuck in her dark blue sweater. Instead of brushing them off, Hennessy just laughed, finding herself so filled with anticipation she didn’t have time for details.

  When they exited into the warm, sunny morning, Kate slipped her arm around Hennessy’s and led her to the charming little park just a block from their apartment. They sat on a bench watching snowy white swans glide around the glassy lake, their bodies absolutely still as their black feet paddled furiously under the surface.

  Finally, after watching in silence for a long time, Kate took Hennessy’s hand and began to trace the visible muscles and tendons. “I love your hands,” she said quietly. “I like hands that look like they’ve done some work.”

  “They’ve done a fair bit,” she admitted. “But not as much as my daddy or my grandparents. If I started today and worked until I died, I’d never be able to best them.”

  “You’re going to work with your brain,” Kate said. “You’ve got to use the gifts you’ve been given.” Her finger went to Hennessy’s lips and she began to trace along the sensitive skin.

  Hennessy began to squirm, wanting to close her eyes to concentrate on the sensation, but forcing herself to look into Kate’s captivating gaze.

  “Like these,” she continued, her voice low and stunningly sexy. “I hate to see lips this pretty just lying there.” She started to chuckle. “Yeah, they get a little use talking and eating, but they were made for a lot more.” She leaned closer as she spoke, until they were nose to nose.

  “Kiss me,” Hennessy whispered as her eyes closed. She’d made up her mind. It was long past time to rip off the shackles she’d bound around her sexuality. And Kate was the perfect woman to celebrate her freedom with.

  Well past noon, Hennessy lay on her side, tracing her fingers over Kate’s beautiful body. She was lean, very lean, with an athlete’s modest curves. But that lean, lithe body stuck a chord in Hennessy that still had her flummoxed.

  She’d been sure, certain, that she could never express herself so freely with another woman. When Townsend held her heart, didn’t it only make sense that she also controlled her desire? But that hadn’t been the case. She’d been voracious, unable to resist touching, tasting, mouthing every bit of Kate’s gorgeous body. And she’d gleefully accepted Kate’s touch in return. Yes, images of Townsend had flitted through a few times, but there had been strangely few of them, and they didn’t interfere. The ache she’d felt the day before had eased, until she was able to fully open herself to Kate. One short day. Not even twenty-four hours and she’d let someone have what she’d firmly decided was Townsend’s. What in the hell did that mean? Did she love Townsend less than she’d thought? No. No. No. She did not. She’d gladly give her life for her. Would offer any sacrifice to make her happy. But Kate had entered her heart too. Had just snuck in there when Hennessy wasn’t looking. Like a thief in the night, she’d come in—and Hennessy couldn’t imagine shutting her out.

  Sighing, she let her fingers linger over a nipple that hardened as her touch brushed over it. Kate shivered, then her lovely eyes opened and a smile lit up her features. “I’d like more,” she said, her voice a little rough from sleep. “More of you.”

  The pulse between her legs pumped harder and Hennessy slipped a hand around Kate’s shoulder and pulled her close. “This is only going to last a week or two, huh?”

  “Well, maybe a tiny bit longer,” she said, chuckling. “I might have downplayed it.”

  “I truly hope you did,” Hennessy whispered, wrapping her arms around her until they were molded together. “Because this is one addiction I’d gladly choose.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Townsend jogged down the crowded aisles of the Delta terminal, cursing herself for cutting it so close. Hennessy’s grandmother had been a little confused when Townsend had called to ask when the baby girl was returning, but she’d searched around and found Hennessy’s last letter, with her itinerary fully laid out.

  Even though they hadn’t corresponded, and had parted on very bad terms, Townsend had decided she was going to be the first American face Hennessy saw when she stepped off the plane. No matter what, she would never break her promise to always be there for Hennessy. That meant flying into New York from Boston that morning, so she’d be on the proper side of security. But her flight had been a little delayed and now she was sprinting for Gate 25.

  She was running so fast that she almost didn’t see her, but out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of Hennessy running in the opposite direction—away from baggage claim.

  What the…? Townsend stomped on the brakes and whirled around. “Hennessy!” But the lanky brunette didn’t hear her cry. Townsend took a few steps in the proper direction, then stopped dead in her tracks. Hennessy wasn’t alone on her mad dash. She was holding the hand of an equally tall, similarly rangy blonde woman, both of them laughing wildly.

  Townsend stood stock still for another moment, then took off. It was like racing to see a car crash, but she couldn’t help herself. Hennessy had a good twenty yards on her by this time, long legs
eating up real estate much faster than Townsend’s could, but that didn’t deter her. By the time Hennessy and the other woman skidded on the smooth floor and turned right, she’d nearly lost sight of them.

  Panting, Townsend reached the spot where she thought they’d turned. A quick perusal revealed nothing, and she was about to take off again when she calmed down and spent a moment looking at the line of passengers getting ready to board a flight to Chicago. There, in the crowd, she saw a flash of long, blonde hair, and before she could take another step, Hennessy wrapped her arms around the woman and began to kiss her.

  Townsend stared, open-mouthed as Hennessy frantically placed kisses on every inch of pale, peach-toned skin her lips could reach. She seemed to be trying to fill herself up, to draw as much of the woman into her own body as she could. The other passengers in the line were staring openly at them, but it was clear neither woman was even vaguely aware of that fact. Only the frenetic merger of their lips and tongues mattered.

  The line began to move, but Hennessy didn’t give up her possessive hold. The pair had enough awareness to shuffle toward the gate, and when they reached the attendant the blonde blindly thrust her ticket in the general direction of the nonplussed man. Then she put her hands on Hennessy’s cheeks, held her still as she stared into her eyes for just a second, and gave her a scorcher.

  Stumbling slightly as they broke apart, Hennessy stepped away and waved weakly, her hand barely moving. Then she managed to tumble into a plastic seat and sat, staring blankly at the door to the Jetway.

  Townsend was nearly as breathless as Hennessy, but she forced herself to summon her courage, walk over and drop down next to her. “That lesbian identity seems to be working out pretty well for you.”

  Every emotion at her disposal flashed across Hennessy’s face, but the one that struck Townsend was shame. Deep, face-flushing shame. While letting out a whimper, she dropped her head into her hands, mumbling, “Oh, fuck, that’s not how I wanted you to find out.”

  “I’d guess not.” Months of therapy had begun to school Townsend in how to manage her emotions. She hadn’t reined them in perfectly, but she was now able to take a punch to the gut and not completely lose her shit. Instead of giving into her momentary urge to slug her, she slipped her arm around Hennessy’s back and said, “Can I have a hug? I’ve missed you so much.”

  Lifting her head to give one of her dazzling smiles, Hennessy shifted in her seat and wrapped her arms around Townsend, murmuring into her ear, “I didn’t know it was possible to miss someone as much as I did you. I swear I thought about you every single day.”

  For a tenth of a second she let herself be enveloped in the sensation of Hennessy’s body, warm, welcoming, and tender. But as she drew in a breath, the scent of perfume reached her.

  Hennessy didn’t wear perfume.

  Townsend’s body shook as she pulled away, her control over her feelings already shaky. “You didn’t spend all of your time thinking about me. Unless you met the pretty blonde on the plane.”

  Hennessy’s skin was much paler than normal, showing her embarrassment more vividly than it used to. “No, of course not.” Her eyes hadn’t yet fully landed on Townsend, and now they anxiously scanned the corridor. “I’d kill for a decent cup of tea. I didn’t sleep a wink on the plane, and I’m fried.”

  Townsend stood and offered a hand, then pulled Hennessy to her feet. “Come on. We can get you a little caffeine before you spill your guts.”

  While draping her arm around Townsend’s shoulders, Hennessy dragged her bag behind her, letting it slide across the terrazzo floor. “A lot of caffeine would be a better idea. I’m running on empty.”

  “A lot of caffeine it is,” Townsend said. She reached across Hennessy’s body and took the bag from her loose grip. “I know you’re tired when you don’t take care of your things.”

  “Tired,” she sighed, her voice faint. “That’s the word. Tired.”

  Hennessy looked up with a half smile when Townsend placed a cup of tea in front of her.

  The instinct to touch her, to be as unconsciously intimate as they’d just started to be before that fatal trip to the Vineyard two years earlier, was overpowering. Townsend’s hand went to Hennessy’s head and gently stroked her tangled hair. “Before you start, I have a question. Do you have to get home today? Camp doesn’t start for a while, does it?”

  “No, I guess I don’t have to. Ideally, I’d go home tomorrow, the day the shack’s closed.” A wan smile formed on her lips as she looked up and met Townsend’s gaze. “Although I truly do love hitchhiking, having grandaddy pick me up makes life a little easier.”

  A flash of memory settled upon Townsend’s shoulders. It seemed so very, very long ago that they’d first visited Beaufort…shared their first kiss…promised to love each other forever…. Where had those love-struck girls gone? She sighed as she moved to claim the chair opposite Hennessy. “You know, I haven’t asked much of you in the last year, mostly because we weren’t speaking,” she said with a small smile, showing she held no animosity in her heart, “but I’m asking for something now. Stay here in New York with me until tomorrow.”

  Blue eyes widened, making her look truly perplexed. “Uhm…how?”

  “I’ll get us a hotel room. Come on. I need to know what’s going on with you, and this might be my only chance.”

  Hennessy nodded. “I’ll call my grandparents and tell them my plans have changed. Let’s go.”

  Townsend put her hand on her elbow and led the way. Hennessy hadn’t complained about allowing her to pay for a hotel room…hadn’t even seemed to consider the fee the airline would charge her to modify her reservation. France had clearly changed her.

  Both women were quiet during the cab ride, but Townsend was an anxious wreck, fixated on learning who the mystery woman was and what she meant to Hennessy. But Hennessy held the answers, and the poor thing was so tired she was dozing intermittently as soon as they left the airport.

  They arrived at the hotel, a big one in mid-town, and were shown to a room filled by a king-sized bed. Hennessy showed a sad, knowing smile when she saw the layout, and if the bellman hadn’t been nattering away, Townsend would have burst into tears. It was impossible to believe that two years had passed since they’d been alone in a bedroom. But their physical familiarity was a thing of the past, and if Hennessy was as serious about her mystery friend as it looked like she was, that intimacy would never be reestablished.

  The bellman left, and they regarded each other with trepidation. “I guess I’ve got some explaining to do, huh?” Hennessy asked. She yawned so wide it was almost funny, but the tension in the room didn’t allow for much levity.

  “I don’t think explaining is the right word. But I’d like to know what’s going on, and why you didn’t tell me.” She looked away from Hennessy’s eyes. “That’s the part that hurts. I know we haven’t been talking but—”

  Surprisingly, Hennessy took Townsend by the hand, led her to an overstuffed chair and pulled her onto her lap. It was as strange a feeling as Townsend could ever remember having. Hennessy had never been so bold, so physically confident. Even when they were “courting” she’d never done anything this intimate. But sitting on her lap felt as natural—as right—as any sensation she’d ever experienced.

  There was something about Hennessy that felt like the home Townsend had never had. There was safety, security, and love in her embrace. True love—without reservation. Even nine months of silence hadn’t shaken her belief in their bond. Townsend settled against her body, trying not to luxuriate in the embrace. Knowing Hennessy, she was as good as married to the gorgeous woman she’d been trailing through the airport. Townsend was so lost in her musings she gasped when Hennessy started to sob. “I never, never, never meant to hurt you,” she murmured.

  A stab of pain shot through her heart. Hearing her cry so piteously shook her to the core. “Oh, Hennessy, I would never believe you’d hurt me on purpose. That’s not who you are.”

 
; “No, I’m not,” she agreed, her voice choked with tears. “But I was so conflicted. I needed to tell you, but we’d agreed not to talk while I was gone…” She sucked in a shaky breath. “That’s not true. I didn’t want to talk while I was gone.”

  “That’s not true either,” Townsend murmured, stroking her hair reassuringly. “You didn’t want to talk while I was with Jenna.”

  “Right.” Hennessy nodded, but didn’t linger on that point. “I couldn’t send you an e-mail. That was so damned cold.” She sucked in a breath and started to cry harder, her words nearly obliterated by her sobs. “I still love you so much.”

  Burrowing into her embrace, Townsend rested her face against Hennessy’s neck, consciously trying to ignore the perfume that lingered on her skin. “I know you do.” She sat up and tenderly smoothed the dark hair away from Hennessy’s face. “I know you love me, just like I love you.”

  A very sad smile tugged at her lips. “Yeah, just like you love me.” She took in a long breath and let it out slowly. “I didn’t want this to happen. I truly didn’t. But Kate and I started to click and…I was so confused. So I tried to act like an adult and I just told her.”

  “Told her what?” Townsend asked, moving away enough to be able to see Hennessy’s face.

  “I told her I couldn’t be with her because I was going to wait for you.”

  Townsend gripped Hennessy’s shoulder, stunned. “I didn’t expect you to wait for me! For God’s sake, I’m with another woman!”

  “I know that,” she said, the essence of sincerity. “But I wanted to. I wanted you to be the only woman I’d ever loved. I wanted to look back on my life when I was an old woman and say, ‘It was always Townsend. Only Townsend…’” She started to sob again, falling limply against Townsend’s body.