The Right Time

by Susan X Meagher

  “Good to meet you, Townsend,” the woman said, her speech pattern so rapid-fire it was like dodging bullets. “I’m Rita Lu Gibbons. Your daddy and me went to high school together,” she said, turning back to Hennessy. “We both dropped out at the same time, matter of fact.”

  “Oh, that’s nice. I’ll tell him you said hello.”

  “Damn,” she groused. “Them kids are about to rub my last nerve raw.”

  “Is that them…honking?” Hennessy asked, not having paid much attention to the horn beeping every two seconds.

  “Hold my place in line, will you, honey? I’ve got to go put the fear of the Lord into that bunch.” Rita Lu ran off, leaving Hennessy to chuckle at her plight. “You shouldn’t make your momma mad on Thanksgiving. Especially when she’s fetching you ribs.”

  “I had no idea what she said,” Townsend whispered, leaning in close. “Was that English?”

  “After a fashion.” They moved up a place in line after a guy emerged from the tiny shop loaded with boxes. “That sure does smell good,” she moaned. The smoke from the pit billowed out of the narrow chimney, making the air smell more like pork than oxygen.

  “Have you ever had a Thanksgiving turkey?” Townsend asked.

  “Oh, sure. Until I was about ten or eleven, we had the whole thing. Pickled shrimp, turkey, stuffing, spoon bread, cranberry sauce. All of Gramma’s family and most of Grandaddy’s showed up every year. We filled the shack and the house and a few card tables people brought.”

  “Did you have a falling out?”

  “Huh?” Hennessy was so fixated on their place in line and how slowly things were moving she was missing parts of the conversation.

  “Your family. Why’d you stop having Thanksgiving?”

  “Well, one year, ‘round October, I asked Gramma if she was looking forward to having everyone over. She looked at me like I was crazy and said, ‘About like I’d look forward to a hot poker in the eye.’”

  “Ooo, that would hurt!”

  “It truly would,” Hennessy agreed. “Turns out she hated the whole thing. No one chipped in. Half of the people didn’t bring what they said they’d bring. And there were usually some cross words exchanged between factions of the clan. She was sick of it.”

  “So…?”

  “I took matters into my own hands,” Hennessy said, still proud of her actions all these years later. “I called every limb of the family tree and told them Thanksgiving was cancelled. Then I worked any little job I could find. Washing cars, minding babies, cutting grass. By the time Thanksgiving rolled around I had enough to buy Gramma’s favorite food. I treated,” she added, in case that wasn’t clear.

  Hennessy stumbled when Townsend’s arms encircled her for a rough hug. “You are just about the best grandchild in the whole world, baby girl.”

  “Just about? Who’s better?” she demanded, touched by Townsend’s show of emotion. “I can surely step up my game if need be.”

  On the way back home, the ribs smelling so powerfully good it was all she could do not to reach in the box and grab one, Hennessy started when Townsend’s phone rang.

  “Yeah?”

  That was a funny way to answer, Hennessy thought.

  Townsend said, “Okay. Thanks for calling.” She placed her phone on her leg and sighed.

  “What?”

  “No flight tomorrow. We can rebook at no charge. Lucky us.”

  “It took us two hours to get it booked!”

  “I know. I was the one on the phone,” Townsend reminded her. “It’s your turn.”

  “I’ll call Kate and see if she wants me to bother. Given she’ll be at work on Sunday…”

  “Nicole won’t be.” She reached over and patted Hennessy on the leg. “You don’t mind if I take next week off, do you?”

  “Of course not. You should,” she added.

  “Then I will. I’m not sure what her schedule is, but if she can squeeze even a night or two free, I’ll go.” She gave Hennessy a sidelong look. “Don’t care to join me?”

  “Can’t. I’ve got a couple of people coming in next week to interview in person.”

  “You could always Skype,” Townsend reminded her. “I still talk to my therapist in Boston every week.”

  “Yeah, I guess I could…”

  She let it go, hoping Townsend did too. She could change things around, but showing up after the holiday, then having only half of Saturday together simply didn’t seem like it was worth the cost.

  Hennessy drove carefully down the long, chalky drive, then parked and jumped out in front of the house. Gramma was standing in the doorway, her grin catching Hennessy by surprise. They said a smile took years off a person’s face, but that wasn’t true for Gramma. She actually looked older, for reasons Hennessy couldn’t understand.

  Townsend opened her door and they all toted the feast inside, where Gramma had set the table with her best dinnerware, which wasn’t very good at all. But it matched, sort of. Once everything was placed in bowls, they sat down at the table and Gramma squeezed Hennessy’s hand, silently thanking her for once again making Thanksgiving a true day of rest.

  It might be non-traditional, but Hennessy loved this meal more than she would have loved the most elegant turkey and fixings ever made. The most important people in her life were all together, Gramma and Grandaddy and Daddy…and Townsend. She swallowed the knot in her throat. The last name on that list should have been Kate. It wasn’t. It was Townsend, and that fact swept through Hennessy on a wave of nausea. Kate wouldn’t appreciate this meal. She’d be disappointed they didn’t do a traditional spread, and Gramma would pick up on that. Kate was never rude, never difficult. She was just…not part of the family.

  And she never would be.

  Townsend was piling ribs onto her plate and slathering them with Noot’s fantastic mustard-based sauce. She looked like she was about to dig into a five star meal at Boston’s finest. Why couldn’t, why wouldn’t, Kate do the same? After all these years, Hennessy still couldn’t answer that question. Part of loving someone meant accepting a few things you didn’t like. But this was a big one—a very big one. And watching Townsend so effortlessly blend in made acceptance of Kate’s standoffishness a hard pill to swallow.

  Given that Townsend couldn’t get a flight until Sunday, they decided to go back to Hilton Head on Saturday morning. Townsend got big points for not complaining about sleeping on the raggedy mattress on the floor, but she couldn’t have been comfortable. And given how much she was looking forward to being with Nicole, and what they planned on doing, she needed to store up some shut-eye.

  When they went out to the car, Hennessy pulled out a cardboard box and handed it to Townsend.

  “What’s this?” She started to take it, but Hennessy held on.

  “This,” she said, trying for solemnity, “is another tiny step in your journey to being a South Carolinian.”

  “It is? My journey’s in a box?”

  “Do you know what today is?”

  “Uhm…” She bit at her bottom lip, like she was trying to answer a question on a pop quiz. “Saturday after Thanksgiving?”

  “True. It’s much more than that, though. Today’s the biggest day of the year. The Palmetto Bowl,” she intoned. “I bought you a flag for your car. It’s important to show your allegiance.”

  “Uhm…” She wrinkled up her nose. “Who are we allied with? And for what purpose?”

  “USC!” Hennessy stepped back, stunned Townsend didn’t seem to know the first thing about this red-letter day. When recognition didn’t dawn, she continued. “Football! You’re born into a USC or a Clemson family and you never waver.”

  “Go USC!” she said, making fists and sticking them into the air. “Our favorite team!”

  “Oh, for God’s sake,” Hennessy grumbled. She took the flag from the package and affixed it over the window. “You wouldn’t know Cocky if he bit you on the ass.”

  “Cocky? Our team is called cocky?”

  “Our masco
t,” Hennessy protested. “Our team is the Gamecocks. We hate the Tigers. Passionately,” she added, trying to make that crystal clear.

  “Got it.” They got into the car and as Townsend turned it on, she said, “Is the Tigers’ logo an orange paw print? The people on either side of me have huge flags in front of their houses.”

  “Regrettably,” Hennessy allowed, wishing Townsend hadn’t moved to such a lousy neighborhood.

  “Then we’ve got to stop somewhere and buy a big…what? Gamecock? I want to have a big-ass flag up by the time the game starts.”

  That was how you fit in.

  It was so fucking simple.

  Yet so hard for Kate to do….

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Hennessy never felt taller than she did while trying to fit into a coach seat on an international flight. She’d been looking forward to flying to Boston with Townsend to kick off their Christmas break, but she’d learned her lesson over Thanksgiving: if you didn’t have to fly into Boston in the winter—don’t. Given the flight from Charlotte was also several hundred dollars cheaper, the deal was sealed.

  She had ten hours to put The Academy, their upcoming term, her job responsibilities, and Townsend out of her mind. After being away from Kate for so many months, her sole focus was on getting back to being a couple. She couldn’t trick herself into believing it would be easy. When you lived alone, you developed habits that were hard to break. But she was going to give it her all. Kate deserved every bit of her attention, and she was going to get it.

  Fingers pressing into her breast woke Hennessy just enough to realize where she was. Paris. Their room was oriented so the morning sun came in through the tall windows to wake and warm them. Not moving an inch, she tried to determine if Kate was awake. Sometimes she twitched in her sleep, squeezing anything her grasping hand covered. Another bit of pressure, probably conscious, woke Hennessy fully.

  Respond, or ignore?

  They’d been in town for five days, and there wasn’t a part of her that wasn’t slightly tender. They’d both been voracious, making love two or three times each day. But she’d reached her limit. Her body needed a break.

  Shifting her hips, she was face-to-face with Kate, so beautiful in the morning light. A few days of staying in bed until ten had erased the circles under her eyes, and now the blue orbs sparkled with interest.

  “Morning,” Hennessy murmured. Dipping her head, she playfully licked a hardening nipple, then looked into Kate’s eyes again. “Someone needs love.”

  “I want to touch you,” Kate whispered, letting her hand trail down Hennessy’s belly.

  When her thighs pressed together, she winced. They’d gotten carried away last night, and she hadn’t paid attention to how much past her comfort level they’d crept.

  “What’s wrong?” Kate’s gentle hand went to her face, moving strands of hair away so she could look into her eyes.

  “Nothing.” She ran her hand over the nipple again, perking it up. “Stretch out and let me play.”

  Kate rolled her onto her back, then hovered above. “I’m way ahead of you.” Her mouth went to Hennessy’s throat, where she nibbled on a bit of skin. “I woke up tasting you on my lips. Made me want you again,” she whispered, her leg insinuating itself between Hennessy’s. “I can’t get enough of you.”

  When Kate had that look in her eyes, you couldn’t finesse your way out of it. “I need the morning off,” Hennessy said, hating to see the disappointed look in those pretty eyes.

  “Not into it?”

  “I would be,” she said, tightrope walking with the truth, “but I’m out of sex shape. Everything’s a little—”

  “Was I too rough with you?” Kate sat up quickly, focused eyes traveling all over Hennessy’s face, searching for the truth.

  “No, baby. I asked for more than I could handle. No big deal. I’ll be fine later. By bedtime—”

  “Did I scratch you?” The sheet and blanket were thrown off, then Kate was on her belly, parting Hennessy’s legs to examine her.

  “It’s all right,” she insisted, not at all liking being searched like a treasure map. She scooted up and closed her legs. “Come up here,” she urged, patting the space beside herself.

  Reluctantly, Kate did as she was asked, her face betraying her feelings. “I should have been more careful. But you asked for more, and I was really into it and—”

  “It’s fine,” Hennessy said, cutting her off. “Let me focus on you. Come on.” She tried to pull Kate into an embrace, but the mood was ruined.

  “I’d rather not.” She tossed her legs over the side of the bed and sat up, turning to give Hennessy an apologetic look. “We’ll try again when you’re feeling better.”

  Ugh! That was not the way to keep her motor running. Kate was acting a little needy—had been all week. And that wasn’t Hennessy’s thing. When Kate got into bed naked and linked her hands behind her head, revealing herself like she was daring Hennessy to come and get it—that’s what made her heart race. Showing a little of her cocky self-assuredness. Not too much. Just a hint. She was lethal then.

  Maybe it was the length of time they’d been apart—nearly seven months—but their dynamic had changed. Not massively; just enough to be noticeable. Something was off. Maybe they just needed to get back in sync, but Hennessy feared it was more than that.

  Kate stood, then extended a hand, pulling Hennessy to her feet. They went into the small bathroom together and Kate tried to adjust the water for them to shower. It was a little like bathing in a phone booth, but they’d made good use of the tiny space so far. Hennessy got in and relaxed into Kate’s embrace. They kissed, tenderly but eagerly. Then Kate pulled back enough to hold Hennessy’s face in her hands and stare at her for a few moments. “I love you,” she whispered. “So much.”

  “I love you too, baby.” She tucked Kate close to her body, letting the warm water wash over them for a minute. “We’d better get clean. The water turns cold awfully fast.”

  Kate went into surgeon mode, making short work of it. Hennessy hadn’t trained herself to take a two-minute shower, and she washed her body at a more leisurely pace. But Kate was watching her so avidly, her gaze never leaving Hennessy’s body that she rushed to finish. “What do you want to do today?” she asked, trying to distract her.

  “There’s a house museum I read about. It’s supposed to be a perfect example of the Belle Epoque. And there’s an antiquarian bookstore nearby. We could stop there first, grab something to read, sit at a cafe and have an espresso or two, then hit the museum. Sound good?” She stepped out and draped a towel around herself, then took another and delicately dried Hennessy like a treasure.

  Even though Hennessy had the PhD, Kate was the intellectual. She liked to keep her French sharp by reading novels and cultural tomes, really delving into modern French life and politics. And her desire to know the country’s history was unquenchable. But they’d done that exact itinerary, with different museums, each of their five days. “I could use a hike. Or at least a long walk. Could we do something a little more physical?”

  Smiling, Kate said, “You’re always doing something physical. I don’t think I’ve ever talked to you that you haven’t been hiking or walking or swimming at some point in your day. But how often to you get to explore a Belle Epoque museum in South Carolina?”

  “Never. That just shows how much I need fresh air. How about the forest in Fontainebleau? We can see the castle, too. It might be nice enough to have a picnic.”

  She must have been pouting, for Kate gave in immediately, not her usual tactic in these kinds of negotiations. Her arms wrapped around Hennessy’s waist and she held her close, their warm, humid bodies fitting together perfectly. “I’ll look up how to get there. And see if I can find someplace to buy things for a picnic.” She grasped Hennessy’s chin with her fingertips, then placed a soft kiss to her lips. “I want you to be happy, Boudreaux. That’s all I ever want.”

  If they’d had a kitchen, and could make a sim
ple dinner, the day would have been perfect. Kate wasn’t much for long walks, but she’d been a very good sport, listening to Hennessy prattle on about the trees and birds she’d spotted but couldn’t identify. You didn’t have to go far to see an entirely different bunch of critters, and Paris was decidedly far.

  Kate had packed two dresses, bringing an extra for Hennessy, who still didn’t own one. Standing in front of the mirror, she tugged on it to get it to sit properly on her hips, which were a bit wider than Kate’s.

  Arms encircled her waist, then a hand swept her hair over her shoulder as Kate’s soft lips kissed across the back of her neck. “I’m glad you have your hair down,” she murmured. “It looks fantastic.”

  Goosebumps sped down her arms and when Kate’s new perfume reached her nose she was just about ready to call it a night and head to bed. Good food was bountiful in South Carolina, whereas Kate was a time-limited resource. But Kate loved exploring new restaurants, and she’d made reservations at this spot months ago. If she was willing to tromp all over a forest, Hennessy had to get over herself and sample the latest in modern French cuisine, even though she would have preferred nothing more than a ham sandwich—you could take the girl out of the country, but you couldn’t take the country out of the girl.

  Turning, Hennessy regarded Kate, stunningly attractive in marine blue. Over the last few years she’d rarely gotten dressed up, or even taken the time to have her hair trimmed. And makeup was out of the question. But since they’d arrived in Paris, she’d indulged her old habits and gotten both a haircut and a manicure. Tonight, she’d applied a hint of mascara and eyeliner to really make those baby blues pop. But her grooming wasn’t what made her so attractive. It was her affect. She was a different person when she wasn’t tired. And not having an accident victim’s life slip through her hands for the better part of a week made her lighter, more carefree. She was the person Hennessy had fallen in love with.