The Right Time

by Susan X Meagher

  “I sure would like to.” She took one bite of her sandwich, then got up and went into their office. “I made a spreadsheet of the demands,” she called out, then appeared a minute later, after she’d printed it off. Dropping it onto Hennessy’s lap as she sat back down, she said, “Have you ever seen anything more…what’s the word?”

  “Entitled?”

  “That’s a damned good one. This is like working in the hospitality industry.”

  “Regrets?” Hennessy asked, already knowing the answer.

  Townsend’s eyes were a little puffy, and her hair was back in a ponytail, not blown straight, which took her a few extra minutes to accomplish. It was clear she hadn’t had much sleep. But her smile was as sunny as a spring day. “Not a single one.”

  “Me either. Let’s do this!”

  Organizing sixty students and four instructors shouldn’t have been a tremendously difficult undertaking. But this wasn’t like taking a scout troop on a hike. These people, mostly well-off women over fifty, were used to being catered to.

  Townsend was facing off with a woman who was ready to slug her with a birdcage—the empty one her Jandaya parakeet should have been in. The bird sat on the metal crosspiece of a large floor lamp, about four feet off the ground, glaring at Townsend. “Love Mommy,” it cawed—loudly. “Love Mommy.”

  The woman was not nearly as attractive as her bird, who was, objectively, gorgeous. A reddish orange body, grass green wings and tail, and a sunny yellow head with vivid orange cheeks, cocked, with his black eyes boring into Townsend.

  “I can see how attached Skittles is to you, Margot, but we can’t allow him in your cabin. I’m happy to find a place to board him—”

  “Board him!” Margot’s cheeks were nearly as colorful as Skittle’s, but hers weren’t her natural plumage. Her anger controlled their hue. “Over my dead body! We’ve been inseparable for ten years. If he can’t stay, I’m leaving.”

  The front door opened and Miranda Bartley glided in. Townsend couldn’t keep herself from smiling, despite the tension in the room. Her mother had perfected the ability to seem like a regular person, while commanding attention from all. There was something about her that said, “Yes, I’m very famous, but feel free to approach.”

  “Good morning,” Miranda said, perfectly turned out in pastel resort wear. Actually, her tailored blouse was nearly the color of Skittle’s cheeks.

  “Good morning, Mom,” Townsend said, having already decided to refer to her as she usually would. “Let me introduce you to Margot Keane and Skittles. Margot this is my mother, Miranda.” She didn’t feel the need to add her last name. Everyone who read much knew it.

  “What a gorgeous bird,” Miranda said, sliding over to shake Margot’s hand. “Is he a parakeet?”

  “He is,” Margot said. “He’s also a member of my family,” she added. “That your daughter wants to stick in a storage locker somewhere.”

  “Townsend?” Miranda said, turning to give her a curious look. “That’s…puzzling.”

  Townsend moved closer to her office, trying to allow for a safe room if Skittles attempted to peck her eyes out. He was only about a foot long, but his beady eyes followed her avidly. “Skittles is a lovely bird. And if you had your own cabin…” She tried to give Margot an empathetic look. “But he’s…vocal, and I can’t expect the other students to share a cabin with him.”

  “Don’t you have a spare cabin?” Miranda asked, also edging away from the bird. She wasn’t a fan of any form of wildlife, even something named after candy, who referred to his owner as mommy.

  “We’re fully booked,” Townsend said.

  The door opened again and Hennessy appeared. As if drawn by a force field, she made a bee-line for the bird, her mouth slightly open as she drew near. “What do we have here?” she asked, her accent as thick and syrupy as it had been when she was eighteen.

  “That’s Skittles,” Townsend said. “There are humans in the room, Hennessy.”

  Her mouth slammed shut as Hennessy wheeled around and stared at their guests. “It’s so good to see you, Mrs. Bartley,” she said, her grin showing half of her teeth.

  Miranda opened her arms, chiding, “I won’t hug you if you insist on calling me by my last name.”

  “Miranda it is,” Hennessy said, bending over slightly to offer a gentle hug. She pulled away and lightly touched the cast that looked more like a torture device. “I’m so sorry you hurt yourself so badly.”

  “I’ve been through worse,” she said, sloughing off the injury. “The critical issue is what to do with Skittles.” There was a definite streak of merriment to her expression. Knowing her, she was getting a charge out of watching Townsend try to placate an unreasonable person. Payback time.

  Just hearing his name made Skittles call out. “Mango!” His voice was so stunningly loud the walls nearly shook. Townsend was sure her feet left the ground when he spoke or yelled or whatever it was called, and she was well sick of it.

  “He’s hungry,” Margot said. “Mangoes are his favorite food. Can you get him one?”

  Townsend turned to stare at her. “Oddly, I’m fresh out.”

  Hennessy, probably seeing this was going downhill, stepped up to the plate. “I can run to the store and buy some. What else?”

  “I have everything else,” Margot said, sniffing as she gave Townsend a withering look. “I came directly from my winter home in San Miguel de Allende and customs doesn’t allow me to bring fresh fruit in.”

  “I’ll be back in a few,” Hennessy said as she went to Townsend and held out her hand. “I need your keys.”

  Townsend took them from her pocket, but didn’t hand them over yet. “Feeding Skittles isn’t our biggest problem. He needs to sleep somewhere. Somewhere other than a shared cabin.”

  “I’ll watch him,” she said immediately. Turning to Margot, she added, “I’m all alone in my cabin, and there are three empty bedrooms. I’d be delighted to have you both, unless you’d rather stay with your fellow students.”

  “I want to stay with Skittles,” she said, turning her nose up at Townsend. “Thank you for understanding.”

  “I love birds,” Hennessy said, inching back over to the parakeet. “Can I touch him?”

  As she spoke, he jumped from his perch and landed on her shoulder, clearly delighting her. “He’s fantastic!”

  Townsend couldn’t help but laugh when Skittles rubbed his head against Hennessy’s face, then once again made his needs known.

  “MANGO!”

  On Saturday night, after the last of their first class departed, Townsend hosted dinner. Mary Ann had come down from Charleston, her winter home, and the four of them sat on the porch, warmed by the infrared heater Townsend had installed near the ceiling.

  Mary Ann had brought a bottle of sparkling cider and she popped the cork when Townsend brought out a cheese board.

  A delighted smile lit her face, and Hennessy watched as Townsend gladly accepted a glass and Mary Ann’s compliments.

  Mary Ann tilted her glass to clink against Townsend’s, then moved around the group, repeating the action. “I was a little afraid you were too young to handle this,” Mary Ann said. “And I’m so happy to see that my fears were completely unfounded.”

  “She’s a natural,” Hennessy said, playfully elbowing Townsend when she leaned over to take a piece of cheese from the board. “I haven’t had a boss I’ve more enjoyed working with since I was last at camp.”

  “I’d just be sitting in the office, processing refunds if it wasn’t for Hennessy,” Townsend said, clinking their glasses once again. “Every single sane camper raved about the instructors.”

  “You already read the evaluations?” Hennessy asked. “When did you have time?”

  “I made time. Those evaluations are what’s going to make us a success.”

  Miranda chimed in. “I must say, both of you did a masterful job of keeping things running smoothly—despite having some very demanding students. How did Margot enjoy her
week?”

  “Skittles has more natural writing talent,” Townsend growled. “Margot had the nerve to complain that we weren’t therapy-pet friendly. After Hennessy put up with that bag of feathers for a whole week!”

  “I liked him,” Hennessy said. “But I’ll admit I prefer birds in their natural settings, where they can’t scream in my ear. That thing had a powerful voice, didn’t he?”

  The darned bird had really gotten under Townsend’s skin. “He’s lucky he wasn’t dinner. But I learned a lot this week. I’m sending urgent notes to everyone who’s due here tomorrow. No pets of any kind, dietary requirements must be disclosed before arrival, and no recreational drugs. Can you believe those two women? Smoking pot right in the living room!”

  “They said it was prescribed,” Hennessy reminded her, laughing at Townsend’s outraged expression.

  “I miss pot,” Miranda sighed, while Townsend rolled her eyes.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she said with a lighthearted tone. “I mean that literally. Lusting after things you can’t have is an exercise in futility.”

  Hennessy watched her as she spread some herb-encrusted cheese on a cracker. She’d gone all out for the final day of their first session. Hair just so, a little eye makeup to enhance their striking color, a blouse that brought out the pink in her cheeks. Townsend offered sage advice. Advice Hennessy damned well ought to listen to.

  On the last Friday of January, Hennessy was working on a course description for a future class. Their second session had gone even better than the first, with Miranda’s students, in particular, raving about her. She was heading off to a reading in Charleston, and had left during lunch, after sharing a tender goodbye with Townsend.

  Allowing herself to relax a bit, Hennessy had decided she was able to take the weekend off. As soon as she finished up, Townsend was going to give her a ride to the McDonald’s to catch the bus home.

  The front door opened and two sets of steps approached. Before Hennessy could blink, a woman entered, turned Townsend’s chair around, plucked her from it and planted a long, stunningly friendly kiss upon her lips.

  A sexy giggle escaped as Townsend wrapped her arms around the woman’s neck and returned the kiss with equal fervor. The intern who’d delivered Nicole stood in the doorway, his mouth hanging open wide enough to draw flies.

  “They’ve met,” Hennessy told him, standing to offer a greeting when and if the kissing ceased. The intern took off, probably to take a cold shower. Hennessy had no such need, even though she, too, was generally fond of watching pretty women kiss. But having one of those pretty women be Townsend was not the way to rev her motor. Her motor was about to seize up, maybe permanently.

  She was going to clear her throat, just in case they’d forgotten she was there, but Townsend had the decency to pull away, her cheeks flushed with excitement. She settled her hair and pulled her blouse back into place when she said, “Hennessy, I assume you’ve guessed this is Nicole?”

  Trying to look natural, Hennessy extended her hand. “I had a hunch. It’s great to meet you, Nicole.”

  Draping an arm around Townsend’s shoulders, Nicole leaned her head over, resting against Townsend’s like they were a matched set. “Sorry for that very public display of affection. I saw Townsend and couldn’t help myself.”

  “No problem,” Hennessy managed. “Did you have a good flight?”

  “It was a little rocky, but well worth it.” She gazed at Townsend, her desire poorly hidden. “Can you take off now?”

  Townsend gave Hennessy a quick look. “You’re leaving soon, too, right?”

  “I am,” she said, waiting for the offer of that ride.

  “Great. We’ll see you on Monday.” She grabbed her tote bag, not even bothering to fill it with work like she usually did. She was clearly only planning on one kind of work this weekend—between the sheets.

  “Yeah. Monday. Uhm…have a good weekend.”

  “Nice to finally meet you, Hennessy,” Nicole said as she guided Townsend from the office, both of them percolating with excitement.

  Growling angrily, Hennessy stuffed a few things into her backpack, turned off her computer and headed over to the administration cabin, hoping there was an intern free to give her a ride to the bus. With such a promising start to the weekend, she might as well plan a visit to Mamma’s and make it a real suck-fest.

  The masters’ section drew students of a different caliber. More serious, much more experienced, and, for the most part, less finicky.

  Hennessy spent all of Monday sneaking into each of the four sections, finding herself mesmerized by her old prof, Dr. Kincaid. The woman had the gift—the ability to lock a student into her seat, hoping the lesson went on for hours. But Nicole was good, too, using wry humor to charm her group of fifteen students.

  By the end of the day, Hennessy felt great about her hires, and confident the students would easily get their money’s worth. She and Townsend sat in their office, closing out any problems before day’s end. Nicole swept in, her possessiveness already grating on Hennessy’s nerves.

  “Who wants to have dinner with me?” she asked as she leaned over and spoke right into Townsend’s ear. You could tell Townsend ate that kind of thing up. Her cheeks flushed and she shivered as Nicole stayed right there, nuzzling against her.

  “Me. Pick me,” she said, giggling.

  “If you two want to be alone, you’d better get going before people start sauntering in,” Hennessy said. “Unless you want to hear how the day went for the other instructors.”

  “I can hear that tomorrow,” Nicole said. “Tonight, I’ve got my mind set on one person, and she’s right here. Ready?”

  “Sure am.” Townsend got up and took Nicole’s hand. “You don’t mind, do you, Hennessy?”

  “Course not. You two have fun.”

  She watched them leave, with Townsend once again not bothering to take a lick of work home with her. Hennessy sat there for a second, then shut her computer down. She might have been dumped like yesterday’s trash, but she’d still have a charming dinner companion. Dr. Kincaid was undoubtedly free, given that she didn’t know another soul in South Carolina. Not as charming as Townsend, but that was a tall order. Kate Chopin comprised her feelings perfectly. “A person can’t have everything in this world; and it was a little unreasonable of her to expect it.”

  They stopped at the store, with Townsend leading the way down the aisles to pick up some of her usual standbys. “You eat chicken, right?”

  “I do. No beef or pork, but I’ll have chicken once in a while.”

  “Then I’ll just buy a little, and load up on veggies. Good?”

  “Perfect,” Nicole said, still looking at her like she wanted Townsend as the entree. Which wasn’t really such a bad idea…

  Once back at the house, Townsend started to prep the vegetables. “Hey, can you go start the grill?”

  “Maybe. Do you just turn it on?”

  “No, it’s a charcoal grill. It’s more involved than that.”

  Nicole bumped her with a hip, trying to dislodge her from her place in front of the sink. “You’d better do it. I’ll take over here.”

  “Uhm…” She laughed. “I have no idea how to do it either. Hennessy’s my grill master.”

  Nicole’s smile froze on her face. “Every time I talk to you you’re grilling something. How often is she over here?”

  “Not all that often,” she said as she left the kitchen to try to do Hennessy’s job. On the way down the stairs, the realization hit her. What a lie she’d told! Hennessy had been over for dinner every single weeknight, save for the very few times they’d gone out. Eight months of shared dinners. Bike rides on the beach. A leisurely paddle after a day stuck in front of their computers. Even moonlight swims during a particularly hot spell in August. They didn’t sleep together, but nearly every other minute of the day found them paired.

  Her mind was filled with images of Hennessy and their very comfortable life. The one th
ey’d created here on the island. Their own Shangri-La.

  Sick at the thought, Townsend had to admit the truth. They’d become so entwined there was little room for anyone else. But she needed more than Hennessy was able to give. She was far too young to give up sex and intimacy—things Hennessy couldn’t give her.

  Standing in front of the grill, Hennessy’s exclusive domain, Townsend tried to imagine if she could be happy with Hennessy during the day and Nicole at night. That might work. She’d have all of her needs met. But who would Hennessy have to snuggle up to when the lights went out? If she wasn’t fulfilled, Townsend couldn’t be either. Not even close.

  Sighing at the dilemma, she took her phone out and made the call. “Can you walk me through how to start this damned grill? You know I’ve never been trusted with fire.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The masters’ session was such an unquestioned success, there was no doubt they’d have to host at least two of them next year.

  Hennessy sat in the common room in their cabin, her four masters’ instructors drinking wine and beer while they nibbled on the cheese Townsend had attractively arranged. It was so nice to sit back and listen to a group of women, all exceedingly competent, talk about ways to impart their skills on eager students. It was also fantastic to be able to have a gathering like this and not worry about Townsend being tempted by the alcohol.

  Hennessy knew you never got over an addiction, but Townsend was darned close. She now treated alcohol like she did anything else she didn’t care for—like ham hocks. Oh, Hennessy could slip them into a soup, but she had to do it when Townsend wasn’t watching. Sometimes the flavor of a dish had to take precedence over total transparency.

  Everyone but Nicole was leaving that night, and the other instructors were soon ferried to their flights—some to Charleston, some to Savannah. Hennessy was about to see what she could scare up in the mess. Even though the staff didn’t prepare dinner on Saturday nights, there was always enough left over to cobble together something resembling a meal.