The Right Thing Easy

by Laina Villeneuve

  Hope blushed at her compliment and felt her color deepen as her eyes drifted along Dani’s signature tight Wranglers. She wore a long-sleeved blue polo, tucked in, which accentuated her tiny waist. She’d pulled her black, wavy curls into a messy bun held in place with a pencil. “It smells amazing in here. What are you making, Professor?” she asked, stepping behind Dani to brush the soft tendrils away from her neck and kiss the exposed skin.

  “Enchiladas if you’d quit distracting me.” She tipped her neck to the side inviting a more thorough exploration. “It’s my grandmother’s recipe. I thought I’d be further along, but Gabe left for the Northcoast and I didn’t expect his chores to take me so long,” she said apologetically.

  “I can help if you’d like.”

  “You could grate the cheese if you really don’t mind working for your meal. I would have taken you out, but if I took you to the best place in town, I’d be taking you to work, and anywhere else is the competition.”

  “You know what they say about flattery.” Hope smiled. “How much cheese do we need?”

  “Enough.”

  “Seriously. Do you want the whole block? Half?”

  “Enough. Check the recipe.”

  Hope leaned over the counter, reading the recipe written by hand and smudged with enchilada sauce. Sure enough, it said, grate enough cheese. “Is this her handwriting?”

  “Mine,” Dani said. “I asked her for a bunch of recipes when I moved out on my own. She dictated, and I wrote down what she said verbatim.”

  Hope kept reading, smiling at the instructions included into the recipe. “What on earth does ‘roll the tortilla like this’ mean?”

  “Grate me some cheese, and I’ll show you,” Dani teased.

  “I have to finish reading the recipe first,” she said as if she’d begun a story not a recipe. She laughed aloud at the closing: Serve with spatula. For recipe for spatula, send one dollar. “What a sense of humor,” she said, getting to work.

  “Yes. I miss her fiercely. I’m so glad I have these recipes to help me remember. Mine never taste exactly like hers, but it still takes me back.”

  “I know exactly what you mean,” Hope said, thinking of the meals that especially reminded her of her mother. “Are you as close to the rest of your family?”

  “We’re close,” Dani answered. Hope watched Dani work, wondering if her mind was moving as fast as her hands. She waited for Dani, who glanced at her, showing that she was aware of the silence stretching between them. “I’m looking forward to being there for Christmas. Somehow I miss them more than usual this year. It’s the first time in years I’ll be there alone…”

  Hope nodded, keen to know how her family had responded to a girlfriend joining them for the holidays but reluctant to pry. Cheese grated, Dani showed Hope that “like this” meant folding the nearest edge over the filling and continuing the roll forward away from her, tucking both ends underneath. Watching Dani wrap them expertly but failing to re-create the neat rolls herself, Hope appreciated that “like this” required manual instruction and practice. Or maybe just less distraction. How could she focus with Dani’s hip pressed up close to hers as they worked? The pan packed with their meal, Hope ventured a question about Dani’s past. “How many years did you have someone there with you?”

  “Three.” Dani covered the enchiladas and slid them into the oven. She opened the fridge but searched Hope’s eyes instead of the contents. “I don’t really know what to offer you. I’ve got wine, but…or I have juice? Water?”

  “Water’s fine. And don’t worry about me. If you were going to have wine, please have wine. It doesn’t offend me.” Dani hesitated for a moment before she pulled out two wineglasses, filling one with water and the other with white wine. Sensing that Dani didn’t really want to discuss her ex, Hope switched gears as they moved to the living room. “You said Gabe’s away this weekend. Is he visiting Kristine?”

  “Yep,” Dani said.

  “She’s lived there for a while, and I’ve never heard of him going to visit. Is she okay?”

  “Oh, yeah. She’s okay. She’s fine. They’re fine.” Dani rambled.

  Hope studied her, confused. Dani seemed much more cautious than usual. Hope crossed her arms, wondering why.

  “He just said he was goin’ for a visit.” She raised her eyebrows and hands at the same time in an adorable yet completely unbelievable gesture of innocence.

  “I have my ways of getting information,” Hope teased.

  That brought a beautiful smile to Dani’s face. “Do you now? You’re full of secrets tonight.”

  “And you seem distracted. Is everything really okay?”

  “I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to rope my brain back from…” She trained her eyes on the wine in her glass, not on Hope. “This might make me a terrible person, but I can’t not say.”

  Hope studied Dani and realized that she looked sad. Her concern about Kristine rose again. “Trust me. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s secrets.” She realized that Dani could take that as a bad thing, but the words were already out of her mouth.

  “Kristine and Gloria want to have a family. Gabe’s helping out.”

  Dani’s words didn’t make sense to Hope at first. When she realized what she meant, Hope gasped. “Oh!” She didn’t know how to respond. She didn’t know what she had expected Dani to say, but pregnancy and babies were the furthest thing from her mind. But there again was the look of sadness that puzzled Hope. “You’re not happy for them,” she said, confused.

  “I am. I’m ecstatic.” Dani’s words didn’t match her eyes. “And I’m jealous and angry. Ugh. I did not want to talk about my ex tonight.” She pushed herself up and left the room.

  When Hope heard her pull dishes from the cupboards, she followed. “What’s wrong with talking about your ex? It’s part of knowing a person, isn’t it?” As Dani reached for plates, Hope thought about what it would be like to be her partner, working together to get dinner on the table instead of the guest waiting to be served. To be beyond learning each other’s past and creating a future.

  “That’s true. I just feel so angry, and that’s not fair to you.”

  “Why are you angry at your ex?”

  “Because that’s why she left me, or rather why she didn’t come here with me. I wanted a family and she didn’t. It was a deal breaker.” Dani tipped her head back like she was trying not to cry. “I wanted a baby. I want a baby.”

  Her words explained the sadness Hope had seen in Dani’s eyes, and it surprised her as much as Kristine and Gloria trying to get pregnant. And Gabe…she couldn’t think about that. All of it was brand new, and she could feel her brain stretching around it all. She realized Dani was waiting for a response, standing in front of her looking more vulnerable than Hope had ever seen her. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Dani. “I’m sorry,” Hope whispered. Dani buried her face in Hope’s shoulder and cried. Hope rubbed Dani’s quaking shoulders and whispered, “It’s okay,” tucking her chin against Dani’s neck. Though she had never felt closer to Dani, she couldn’t ignore the question Dani’s confession had planted. “Do you still love her?”

  Dani immediately broke away. “No,” she said emphatically. “She walked away. I don’t…” Hope watched the kaleidoscope of feelings pass over Dani’s face. “I don’t love her anymore. It’s just…I miss…not her but what we had. I don’t know if that makes any sense. I miss being in that place where wanting a family, a baby, was a dream I could dream. But with her, it wasn’t ever going to be a reality. So…I moved on.” She smiled weakly.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “No. I’m sorry. This isn’t very romantic,” Dani apologized, stepping away and scrubbing her tears away.

  “This is you, the you I want to know more about.” Hope missed the feel of Dani’s body close to hers and how right it felt to hold her. Her body thrummed in recognition.

  Dani nodded and went back to preparing dinner, and a milli
on ideas swirled in Hope’s mind. She felt like she should respond even though Dani hadn’t asked a question, but, honestly, Hope had no idea what she wanted. When she had realized she was gay, her thoughts of having a family had ended. It simply hadn’t occurred to her that she could have children with a woman. She tried to entertain the thought of having a baby with Dani in Quincy, but too many things scrambled around in her mind for her to even form a vision. Could she commit in a way Dani’s ex could not? “You were ready to have a baby with her here in Quincy?” she asked, thoughts spinning at what people would have said.

  “Yeah, why not?”

  Hope stared at her and couldn’t imagine what it would be like to move through life with such confidence, without any trace of apology. “I guess it makes sense.”

  “What does?”

  “That you’d be brave enough to do that. Like when you pulled the bridle off your horse and rode around like it was nothing.”

  “What did you think would happen?”

  “I don’t know. I thought she’d go running off, I guess.”

  “You were watching me, huh?”

  “I was, and you knew it. You said you were showing off.”

  “Yes. I’m glad you noticed, and I hope my students were clueless.” She took a deep breath. “How about food and some lighter conversation?” Dani said, pulling the enchiladas from the oven.

  “Yes, thank you,” Hope said.

  Dani smiled brightly. “There you go thanking me again. It’s me who should be thanking you for not running from the house.”

  “Not at all. You’re being honest. Thank you for telling me, for trusting me with all that. And for feeding me.”

  They dug into their meal and chatted more comfortably, making Hope think again about what it would be like to spend her days with this woman, sharing recipes and dreams. She thought about the future in a way she hadn’t since she was a small child playing with dolls. In college, she’d figured that life had decided that her chance to raise a family had been given to her by the fate of losing her mother early. That Dani saw such different possibilities in her future opened a whole new world.

  Hope insisted that she help with the cleanup, and they worked in the kitchen easily together, Hope washing dishes while Dani put away the leftovers. Folding the dish towel over the oven handle again, Hope had to face the late hour, knowing her father would be well aware of her continued absence. “I wish I didn’t have to go,” she said, shrugging into her coat.

  Dani lifted Hope’s hair out of the collar. “You have the most beautiful hair.”

  “It’s straight and boring.”

  “As long as it’s the only straight thing about you,” Dani teased, kissing her softly, making it even more difficult to leave.

  She closed her eyes and imagined what the rest of their night would be like if she didn’t have to leave. Would they be brushing teeth and climbing into pajamas and snuggling in bed? Dani’s tongue danced against hers, sending a rush of heat between her legs. No, they would not be putting on pajamas. “You take my breath away,” she whispered. Every place their bodies touched sparked a fire within her.

  “Same thing happens to me,” Dani said, tracing Hope’s jawline with her finger.

  As Hope pulled out onto the road, she realized that it didn’t feel like she was heading home.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I launched from the couch and out of the living room, a quick glance at the screen confirming that it was Hope. I knew my quick exit would prompt an interrogation from my brothers but didn’t care. I just wanted to hear Hope’s voice. I climbed the stairs, seeking privacy from my family’s curiosity and took the call. “Hey there.”

  “Am I calling too late?” Hope asked.

  “Not at all. I’m the only one in my family up with the sun. They’re just getting started,” I said, thinking about the spiked nog my mom had just brought to the room downstairs as I was leaving. I closed my eyes, missing the hug that should have come next, the warmth of her in my arms. “How’s your family?” The long pause that followed worried me. “Hope?”

  “They’re okay, as okay as they can be having been floored by my leaving the church.”

  Her words jolted me. “What?” I thought back to the what-if question I’d thrown at Gabe. Could she really walk away from the church?

  “I told my family I’ve left the church,” she said again, and I got the sense she was saying it as much for herself as she was for me. “I promised myself I’d do it by Christmas, and I did.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, stung by her choice to keep something so huge to herself.

  “It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

  “It doesn’t?” Anger joined the sting. I heard the big breath she took and felt chastised by the forced patience in her voice.

  “Of course it concerns you. But I have to leave the church for me. If I leave because of you, because of any woman, what does that say about me? This decision has to be motivated because it’s what is right for me.”

  She had a point. The last thing I wanted was for her family to blame me. Why hadn’t I seen that? “I’m sorry. You sound really tired. I didn’t mean to add to what must have been a difficult night.”

  “I didn’t think it would be such a big deal. I really left a long time ago when I stopped attending church, but I wanted to say it out loud, so they could let go of any ideas that I might come back to being an active member.”

  “But it was a big deal.” I heard the quaver in her voice and felt too far away. “Are you crying, Hope?” She released a sob that told me I’d been right, which broke my heart. “Do I need to come back? I feel so helpless here.”

  “No. I’m at Pauline’s. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

  “Wait, you’re at Pauline’s?” A surge of anger and protectiveness flooded through me. “He kicked you out?”

  “It’s not like that, Dani. Don’t get upset. I had to leave. It was my decision. My father wants the best for me. He said he knew I’d been struggling with my faith and just wants me to be happy. Harrison and Hyrum didn’t say much. They spent a lot of time staring at their hands or the floor, so I know they’re disappointed, but they didn’t argue with me. Halley…”

  She broke down crying again, and I sat, unable to do a thing. Downstairs, my family erupted in laughter over something and the dichotomy stumped me. I pictured her family sitting in a circle, stunned. Hope sat outside of that circle, and I, too, had removed myself from mine. Tonight, it was just excusing myself from the room, but I had some experience in disappointing the family by making choices they hadn’t anticipated. However, I kept my thoughts of choosing an unexpected profession to myself, not sure how it measured up to Hope’s walking away from her faith. I didn’t want to minimize what she was experiencing.

  “Halley hasn’t said a thing. She wouldn’t even look at me. She didn’t hug me when I left. She just disappeared into her bedroom.”

  “I imagine it’s a pretty big shock for her.” Hope didn’t respond, and we sat in silence. I wanted to hear more but sensed that she needed a break from the overwhelming emotions. It didn’t seem right to change the conversation, though, so I waited, just being there for her. “I wish I were holding you right now, that you were at my place instead of Pauline’s.”

  Her burst of laughter caught me off guard. “It’s such a good thing you’re not here.”

  “It is?” I tried to be neutral and not let my feathers get ruffled again.

  “You know exactly what would happen if I were at your place right now,” she said, her voice low and sexy.

  The timbre of her voice sent a shiver down my spine. Sure, I’d been thinking about her naked a lot, but when we were together, we’d been very restrained. I felt a familiar and welcome pull knowing she was thinking about me the same way.

  “And that would be bad?” I teased.

  “Right now it would be. I feel like I’ve just ended a relationship, and I don’
t want to be the kind of girl who just steps from one relationship to another. I don’t want you to be a rebound.”

  I could see her point, but I was also confused. Had I gotten ahead of myself in thinking that we were dating? I didn’t say anything, but my hesitation must have made her guess my train of thought.

  “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I plan on playing the vast lesbian field here in Quincy…” We both laughed at the picture.

  “Have you ever noticed how many novels have small towns that are full to the brim with eligible lesbians? It always makes me roll my eyes. I’ve never been part of a community like that, not even when I lived in the city.”

  “Wait, you read lesbian romance?”

  “Of course,” I said. I dropped my voice as she had done. “Should I be lending books to you from my library?”

  “I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me.”

  “You have full access. Want me to call Gabe and have him let you into my place, so you can pick something?”

  “Yes, because I really want to get tongues going.”

  I blushed hard and laughed harder. “I hope you’re trying to embarrass me.”

  I loved hearing her try to back out of the innuendo, glad that we’d managed to steer the conversation away from its initial heaviness. I wanted to believe that I could help her navigate the aftermath of the difficult decision she’d just made, even though that involved a definite conflict of interest on my part. We talked for another ten minutes, mostly me answering questions about what I’d been doing with my family. I reported on the food and the weather, leaving out that the top activity of my trip had been missing my time with her.

  The hand that extended into my room with a tall glass of nog made me glad we’d moved on to lighter topics. I scrambled across the room, took the drink and nodded to my younger brother, Chip, that I’d be down soon. I closed the door so I could finish my conversation without him eavesdropping. Once I had said goodnight to Hope, I opened the door and found his ear in the empty space of the doorway.