Fresh Tracks

by Georgia Beers

  “I’m so lost,” she murmured, her voice cracking. “God, I’m so lost.” A tear spilled free and forged a path down her pinkened cheek. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

  She thought of her job and her bills and her clients and her boss and her house and her car and her wife and the pressure. God, the pressure. The pain flared up again just as it had the previous day, pressing on her as if a boulder had been set on her chest. She moaned and squeezed her eyes shut, determined to push ahead. If she just kept moving, the pain would go away. It always did. She just needed to keep moving.

  On her next step, her boot landed on a jagged and snow-covered rock, throwing her completely off balance. She was falling before she even realized it. Her feet flew forward and her arms flailed, grabbing uselessly at the air to try and maintain her balance. She went down hard on her back, her head smacking against a fallen log. Her vision blurred, then went black.

  *

  When Kristin opened her eyes and saw only sky, she had no idea how much time had passed. “Son of a bitch,” she grumbled, pulling herself to a sitting position in the snow. Much as she had wanted to stay away from everybody else, she now had no choice but to go back. Her jeans had soaked through and her legs and ass were freezing. She expelled an annoyed breath and hauled herself to her feet.

  She followed her own tracks back to the path, then to the back yard and the house. She heard a high-pitched yipping and saw the terrier in the distance. “Damn thing needs a name,” she muttered. He was heading toward the other end of the path near the garage, his leash held by Laura.

  “Watch your step in there,” Kristin called to her. “It’s a little slippery.”

  Neither the woman nor the dog looked her way.

  “Terrific,” Kristin mumbled. “The silent treatment. Can’t wait to go inside.”

  She knew she’d made a scene, knew most of the women probably wished she hadn’t come at all. She was beginning to feel the same way and wanted nothing more than to stay outside in the snow and away from the rest of the gang. If she’d thought to grab her car keys before she’d stomped out, she could just hop in the Lexus, drive away, and leave all this crap behind her. The reality, however, was that her butt was numb and if she didn’t get out of her jeans soon, they might end up frozen to her body permanently.

  She trudged around the side of the house and up the steps to the front door. She stomped the excess snow off her boots and went inside.

  Jo and Amy sat on the couch, Amy’s feet in Jo’s lap, Jo rubbing them absently. They were smiling as they listened to Darby relay a story in animated detail as she sat on the floor near the fireplace. Molly sat in the club chair, looking distracted and a little sad, but she pretended to pay attention to the story. Nobody looked up as Kristin entered.

  In the dining area, Sophie stood near the window and looked out toward the garage.

  “They went onto the path,” Kristin said to her. “Walking’s a little tricky.” She gestured to her own backside. “I ought to know.”

  Sophie said nothing and didn’t turn her way.

  Christ, Kristin thought. Is this how it’s going to be? Now everybody hates me?

  She turned to glare at Darby, thinking that if people had heard what she’d said, how she’d said it, maybe they wouldn’t be so quick to judge. Maybe they’d be ignoring her instead of Kristin. She unzipped and shed her coat and hung it up. Then she stepped out of her boots. The whole time, she looked at Molly. Molly never once met her eyes.

  She flinched at the realization of how much it stung to have her own partner completely ignore her and she swallowed the lump in her throat. This is ridiculous. She crossed the living room to the chair and looked down at Molly.

  “Can I talk to you? Upstairs? Please?” She kept her voice calm and low. Darby kept on with her story, something about a weird customer at the video store. Jo and Amy watched with rapt attention and smiles on their faces. Molly gazed wistfully out the front window, her chin balanced on her fist.

  Kristin blinked and looked around the room. Everybody was doing their own thing, absorbed in their own thoughts and conversations. Kristin felt anger welling inside. “God damn it,” she snarled as she stepped in between Darby on the floor and Jo and Amy on the couch. “Hello?” she said, sarcasm dripping from the word.

  Darby continued on with her story as if Kristin wasn’t there. Jo laughed at something she said. Kristin whipped her head around to face Jo, hurt. “Come on, you guys. This is mean.” Jo and Amy both continued to focus on Darby. Kristin turned back around and growled at Darby. “Oh, my God, can you shut up for two seconds?”

  Darby kept talking.

  Kristin turned to Molly. She stepped back to the chair. “Molly? Honey, please? I’m sorry about earlier. I just want to talk to you.”

  Molly gazed out the window, her eyes sorrowful.

  “Honey?” Kristin repeated.

  Sophie approached from across the room and Molly looked up at her. “I’m going to make some hot chocolate. Want some?”

  “That’d be great,” Molly replied. “Thanks.”

  Kristin watched in disbelief as Sophie headed toward the kitchen. Molly was once again looking out the window.

  “What the hell, Mol?”

  Molly continued not to answer. Kristin was breathing heavier now, her anger and hurt causing her heart to beat more rapidly. She moved again so she was standing between Darby and her aunts. They continued to converse, seemingly oblivious to Kristin. Kristin said nothing, but watched carefully. After several minutes of watching Darby, then spinning and watching Jo and Amy, a kernel of fear formed in the pit of her stomach. Jo and Amy never adjusted their positions so they could see around Kristin. Kristin moved and stood directly in front of Darby, who also never shifted to look around the obstacle before her. The realization struck Kristin like a truck.

  They’re looking right through me.

  “Oh, my God,” Kristin whispered. She squatted down in front of Darby and waved a hand in front of her face, barely an inch away. Darby didn’t even flinch. Her blue eyes were sparkling as she stopped talking and listened to what Amy was saying. Then she laughed and responded, never once moving aside; she spoke to Amy as if Kristin was not in her way, was not blocking her view. Kristin broke out in a cold sweat and stood.

  “Oh, my God,” she said again, her voice panicked this time. She looked at her wife. “Molly? Honey?” She leaned close. She could smell Molly, her apple-scented shampoo, her citrus perfume. She liked to joke with her that she smelled like a fruit bowl half the time, but now Kristin inhaled deeply, reveling in the scent that represented her love, her life. “Molly?” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Please look at me. Please.”

  As Molly gazed out the window at the freshly falling snow, Kristin reached out slowly, waiting breathlessly for the moment when her fingertips would touch the creamy-smooth skin of Molly’s cheek. She whimpered in horror when her fingers passed right through, then touched the chair in which Molly sat. She tried again. It was as if Molly was made of mist. Kristin’s hands simply passed through any part of Molly she tried to touch. She staggered backward, blinking in shock, and fell on her butt to the floor.

  She sat there for several long minutes, her heart pounding, her hand pressed to her chest as the anxiety attack swept over her like a mudslide, burying her in its thick darkness. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth, willing the pain to pass. When she was able to breathe again, she looked to her left. Darby sat not three feet away, listening with a grin as Amy prattled on about an unruly restaurant customer. Kristin blinked at Darby, then reached out to touch her socked foot. Her hand passed right through to the floor, and though it didn’t surprise her, she still inhaled sharply when it happened. She looked back up at Darby, studied her face. That’s when Darby’s voice rang through her head.

  You’re practically invisible. Pretty soon, she won’t see you at all.

  “Oh, God.” Had she actually become invisible? How? How was that possible? Ho
w had it happened? How could she fix it? Could she fix it? The questions raced through her head faster than she could grab onto one and concentrate on it. She looked up at her partner of so many years. “Molly?” Kristin knew she wouldn’t hear her, wouldn’t respond, but she said her name anyway, hoping to use it to ground herself. The feel of it on her tongue helped to steady her jangling nerves just a little bit.

  “Molly?” she said again as she crawled back toward her wife. Molly’s chin was still propped on her hand, her elbow balanced on the arm of the chair. She looked out the window at the day, but her eyes were unfocused. “What are you looking at?” Kristin followed her gaze but could see nothing of interest. “Are you daydreaming?” She sat down on the chair’s matching ottoman, wanting so badly to touch Molly that she thought she might scream. She studied Molly’s face, the lines etched around her mouth, the dark circles under those dazzling eyes. “You look so sad,” she whispered, her throat constricting and her heart breaking at the sight. “Do I do this to you? Do I make you this sad?”

  Tears welled in her eyes and she was powerless to stop them as they spilled over and tracked down her cheeks. The sob that raced up from her chest nearly choked her.

  “Molly, please hear me. Please see me.” She looked around the room as if somebody there might help her, but nobody even knew she was present. She turned back to Molly and looked at her. Just looked at her. “God, you’re so pretty,” she said. “You’re so beautiful.”

  Molly’s dark hair was loose and very wavy. She rarely let it air dry because she said the waves annoyed her, but Kristin often begged her to let the waves come. She thought they were sexy. Molly’s sea green eyes were the definite focal point of her face, their color startling amidst the dark hair and olive skin. Her eyebrows were dark and neatly shaped and her eyelashes were long and lush, like those of a teenaged boy. Straight friends were always telling her they’d kill for eyelashes that thick. Her bottom lip was full and Kristin had the sudden urge to kiss it, to suck it into her mouth, to nibble it with her teeth. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d felt such a primal, sexual pulse, and now she couldn’t do a thing about it. It was torture.

  “Molly, please.” Her voice cracked and she dropped to her knees next to the chair, her face inches from Molly’s. “We’re a mess. I feel like I’m losing you and I don’t know how to stop it from happening. Every day, I see you slipping further and further away from me and I feel like I can’t reach you. And even if I could, I wouldn’t know how.”

  She stopped to catch her breath, willed herself to stop crying. It didn’t work. The tears continued to fall. The sobs were smaller, but still frequent. Kristin was losing control. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes for several seconds, then looked back at Molly and continued to say whatever came into her head, unable to stop the flow of words.

  “This is my fault, Molly. My fault. I know I work too much. I know I place too much emphasis on my job. But I feel so stuck, so lost. I feel like I’m carrying so much weight and it’s crushing me. Any minute, my legs are just going to give out and it’s all going to flatten me forever.”

  She wiped angrily at the tears on her face. “You know what? I hate my job. I hate it. I hate Jack Reeves and I hate most of my clients and I hate having to go in there every day. I hate it, Mol. I want out. I need out, for my own sanity, and I don’t know how to do it without disappointing everybody. I don’t want to disappoint you. I promised to take care of you and I don’t know how I can do that if I quit. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.” She looked up at the oblivious face of her partner, searching it for answers and knowing with sudden clarity that she didn’t want to do anything without her. “I need your help, Molly. Please. Please help me.”

  The blinding pain came screaming out of nowhere and took her by surprise, closing on her skull like a vise. Both hands flew to her head as she squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth. Then there was nothing but black.

  Laura

  When Laura and the terrier came in from their walk, the first thing Laura saw was Sophie smiling at her from the dining room table. It was such a surprising change from the sour expression Sophie usually shot her that she smiled back immediately. She unsnapped the dog’s leash and he skittered right to Sophie, putting his front paws up on her thigh.

  “How was the walk?” Sophie asked as she stroked his wiry head.

  “Nice.” Laura shed her coat. “It’s starting to snow again, but it’s the pretty, fluffy stuff.”

  “I like that kind of snow.”

  “Me, too.”

  “How about some hot chocolate to warm you up? I just made myself a cup.”

  Laura grinned at the offer, touched. “That would be great.” She stepped out of her boots and listened with a grin as Amy recounted a story about an obnoxious customer she’d dealt with in the restaurant she owned. Exactly why I stay in the kitchen, she thought. She noticed Molly sitting alone in the chair, staring out the window at the snow, and remembered the scene between Darby and Kristin a little while earlier. She wondered what had been said. It was obvious Darby was pushing Kristin’s buttons, and Laura had cheered internally when Jo had hauled her niece into another room for what she hoped had been some sage advice. Darby was so young. She had some lessons to learn.

  “You look puzzled.” Sophie’s voice broke her out of her reverie as Laura sat down at the table.

  Taking the mug from Sophie’s grasp, Laura laughed. “I was just thinking that I can barely remember my twenties.”

  Sophie chuckled. “It seems like forever ago, doesn’t it?” She followed Laura’s gaze across the room to where Darby sat on the floor. “She’s pretty damn young.”

  “Has Kristin come back yet?”

  “No.” Sophie sipped from her mug. The terrier jumped at her until she allowed him up on her lap. He curled up in a ball. “This boy needs a name, you know.”

  “He’s probably got one.”

  “Then he needs a new one because we can’t just keep calling him Dog.”

  “I’ll think about it.” For several long minutes Laura lapsed into listening to the conversation taking place between the others, then she asked quietly, “Do you think they’ll be okay?”

  “Who?”

  “Molly and Kristin.”

  Sophie set down her cocoa. “Yes,” she responded with certainty. “I do.”

  Laura was surprised. “What makes you so sure?”

  “They love each other.”

  “A lot of people love each other. It doesn’t mean they stay together forever.”

  “True enough. How can I explain this?” Sophie chewed on the inside of her cheek as she searched for the right words. “Those two have had their problems since they’ve been here. That’s been obvious. But they’ve never once been mean to each other. They haven’t disrespected one another in front of us. I think that’s really important, and two people who love each other and want their relationship to work understand that.”

  Laura studied Sophie’s face. Her coffee-colored skin was so smooth, Laura was surprised to find herself wanting to reach out and stroke it, just run her fingertips across Sophie’s cheek. “That’s an excellent point. You sound like you speak from experience.”

  “Respect is the most important ingredient in a relationship, aside from love, of course. I didn’t have enough respect for Kelly,” Sophie said wistfully. Then her face cracked into a wry grin. “Of course, she didn’t have much for me either, so I guess we were pretty even.”

  “I think I was hit with some poetic justice myself,” Laura said. “I obviously didn’t respect Stephen enough, but Amanda didn’t respect me. I think I may have gotten what I deserved.”

  “What goes around comes around, huh?”

  “Evidently.”

  “You should keep the dog,” Sophie blurted suddenly.

  Laura blinked at the abrupt change in subject. “What?”

  “The dog.” Sophie stroked the brown fur as the words left her in a
rush. “I heard a guy in the grocery store when we went to town yesterday. His wife left him and left the dog behind, but he hates the dog and locked him out of the house. He was a big, skeevy, gross guy and he doesn’t want the dog back. And if he had him back, I don’t think he’d be nice to him.” She took a breath. “So you should just keep him. He likes you. And you’re good to him. You should be together.”

  Laura stared at her with raised eyebrows, trying to absorb everything.

  “I should have told you sooner. I’m sorry.”

  As if on cue, the dog lifted his head and looked at Laura, his brown eyes blinking at her with watery sleepiness. “He looks like a Ricky to me,” she said finally.

  Sophie smothered a relieved smile and glanced down at him. “He does, doesn’t he?”

  “Maybe we’ll try that on for size and see if he likes it.”

  They sipped their cocoa in companionable silence, glancing at one another and grinning. Finally, Sophie spoke. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “It’s kind of personal.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “How did it feel when Amanda called things off? I mean, how did you get over her?”

  Laura spent a few seconds contemplating the most honest answer. “Well, first of all, I was completely shocked. Here I was, head over heels in love with this woman—my first woman, mind you—and in the process of leaving my husband for her. Now, in her defense, she didn’t know I had told Stephen about us. She had no idea I was leaving him.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I did it as a surprise for her.” She snorted at the irony. “I thought of it as a gift. Little did I know that she had no intention of embarking on any sort of life with me. As far as she was concerned, we’d just go on as we were forever…married to our husbands and sleeping with each other on the side. She liked her life just the way it was.”