Never Too Late

by Julie Blair

  “I brought Kona coffee and thought I’d get a pot made before you got here. Have you ever tried it?”

  “It’s my favorite.”

  “Good.” Carla set her purse on her desk. “I brought back ten pounds from Hawaii. I don’t know what I was thinking. Why don’t we dump that out and I’ll bring you a fresh cup?”

  “Um, okay.” Jamie handed her the mug and took the files to her office.

  A few minutes later Carla set a mug of coffee on Jamie’s desk, holding another one. “Try this.”

  Jamie took a long sip. “God, that’s good. So, you were in Hawaii recently?” It seemed polite to ask.

  “I don’t want to take up your time.”

  “It’ll give me an excuse to enjoy the coffee.” And maybe she wanted a peek inside Carla’s life.

  Carla sat across from Jamie and crossed her legs. “I took Lissa and Steph over for a month. Graduation present.”

  “Is Steph your other daughter?” Jamie had always wanted to go to Hawaii.

  “Lissa is my only daughter. Steph is her girlfriend.”

  “Um…good for them.” Jamie looked away. She’d assumed the conversation would be about vacation destinations. What were the odds Carla’s daughter was a lesbian?

  “I agree. They met freshman year on a soccer team. Started out rivals and ended up best friends.”

  “I remember quite a few friendly rivalries that turned into friendships when I played softball at that age.”

  “The summer before their senior year they realized their feelings were more than friendship. It was an interesting summer—teenage angst coupled with coming-out issues—but they were clearly falling in love, and I encouraged them to follow their hearts.”

  “Commendable,” Jamie said, unsure what else to say. Had someone told Carla she was a lesbian? Should she tell her?

  “Coming out was harder on her than it was on me. I’ve always supported gay rights.” Carla’s gaze was uncomfortably fixed on her. “It was also an interesting year. I had my first experience of being called to the principal’s office.”

  Jamie’s heart skipped a beat and she swallowed the coffee wrong. She knew who that principal was. She coughed, wishing she hadn’t invited this conversation.

  “Are you all right?”

  “The caffeine just hit me wrong.” Jamie sank back into the chair. She cringed, remembering some of the things Sheryl had said about the girl’s mother. “Go on,” she said cautiously, unable to deny she was curious to hear the other side of the story.

  “Their principal demanded they stop showing affection in public because she’d received complaints from parents that their behavior was offending other students. The girls are conservative with PDAs so that didn’t make sense. And her unwillingness to support their rights outraged me. We threatened legal action against the school district, and she finally backed down.”

  “And now your daughter is in college?” If Jamie was doing the math right, Carla already had a family when they met. She stared at Carla’s hands. Why hadn’t she been wearing that ring? If I’d known…

  “They both are. At San Diego State. I miss them so much.” Tears filled her eyes. “Aghh. Ignore me.” She pulled a Kleenex out of her pocket and dabbed her eyes. “This empty-nest stuff is hard to get used to.” Carla stood. “I’ll get to work on the insurance stuff.” She turned back at the door. “I’m glad you like the coffee.”

  Jamie nodded, but her thoughts were on the disaster this would become when Sheryl found out who her new office manager was. The relief she’d felt at having her office-manager problem solved flew out the window. The thought of replacing Carla without Betty’s help was too overwhelming to consider. Sheryl never came by the office. Could she make this work until she got the embezzlement problem under control?

  Jamie slammed a file down on her desk and opened it. When do I get a break?

  *

  Marci was standing in her doorway and Carla signaled that she’d be off the phone in a minute. “Thank you so much, darlin’. Southern gals gotta stick together. You get me those billing records, and I’ll keep you in See’s candy for the rest of your life.”

  Carla set the phone back in its cradle and crossed her fingers. She’d been calling insurance companies every spare minute, often from home before she came in, trying to find someone who would help her get copies of what Marjorie had submitted. Most times she got the run-around, but when she heard Pearl’s accent, she’d played the Southern card to the max.

  “We’re all taking Betty out to dinner tomorrow to celebrate her retirement. You’ll come, won’t you?”

  “Sure.”

  “Seven at Maggiano’s. Spouses included.”

  “Oh, gosh, I can’t. I forgot. We have tickets to a play.” Carla looked back at her computer screen. Her ears always burned when she lied, but she couldn’t face meeting Jamie’s partner.

  “That’s too bad. We’ll miss you.” Marci squeezed her shoulder. “We’re all glad you’re here, Carla. The office is running smoother than it has in a long time, and Jamie seems less stressed.”

  “Thanks.” Carla sighed. Maybe she should call Vanessa. She could use another dose of dancing. If only she could banish her attraction to Jamie. Shaking her head she entered the data for the next patient. Might as well finish up today’s billings.

  An hour later Carla locked the file cabinets. It had been a productive day. She was caught up on current billings and had made progress in her plan to help Jamie. As soon as those EOBs got here she could match what was billed against what should have been billed. She had a pretty good idea how Marjorie had been embezzling. Jamie probably had the same suspicions, but Carla wanted facts to present to her.

  She pulled her sweater from the back of the chair and picked up the insurance forms Jamie needed to sign. Everyone else had left, and Jamie had retired to her office after her last patient twenty minutes ago. She knocked and, when she didn’t get an answer, went in. She was lying on the couch, eyes closed, hands clasped over her stomach. Carla watched her for several minutes before clearing her throat. Jamie didn’t stir.

  Standing over her, she studied the woman whose face held a slight frown even in sleep. She wanted to sit and cradle her head in her lap, run her fingers through her hair. Was it as soft as she remembered? Lifting the file off Jamie’s chest and not seeing a blanket, she laid her sweater over her. Her heart filled with the same regret she’d felt that morning watching a younger Jamie sleep. Her mouth went dry and her pulse pounded in her throat. She wanted to touch Jamie again with a ferocity that scared her.

  Carla rushed out of the building breathing hard, aching with need, aroused in a way she hadn’t been in twenty years. Why had she thought she could set Jamie aside and move on with her life?

  She drove home in a fury of desire, barged through the front door, and threw her purse on the dining table. Kicking off her shoes, she strode down the hall to her bedroom, pawing at the buttons on her blouse. The bra confining her breasts was unbearable, and she bit back a curse of frustration as she ripped it off over her head, then discarded her pants in a heap. She rummaged through the CDs on the dresser and put one in the CD player. Melissa. It didn’t matter which one; they all connected her to Jamie.

  She turned on the faucet to the Jacuzzi tub, pacing, surrounded by memories of another tub, another anxious wait for it to fill. She cupped her breast, massaged it, and pinched her nipple, groaning with frustration. It wasn’t her hand she wanted on her aching flesh. She slipped her other hand inside her panties and dove between her lips. Spreading her wetness over her clit, she started the stroking that would release her from the need burning through her.

  Tossing her panties aside she slid into the steaming hot water. She wanted to feel scalded. As the jets pounded her back she stroked herself to a hard, fast orgasm, devoid of any pleasure other than release. Tears fell into the water surging against her. She wanted all the passion she’d missed out on. She wanted Jamie. Ten minutes later she stepped out of th
e tub, angry. No more memories.

  Bundled in her favorite pink chenille robe, she marched to the kitchen. Wine first. She opened the refrigerator. Not going to mope over what she couldn’t have. Pasta. She set out eggs and flour. Going to get on with her life. Pesto. She went to her backyard for the last of the basil. There were other women besides Jamie.

  At midnight she sat down, exhausted, and stared at the kitchen. Cookies covered the counters. More cookies were bagged and in the freezer. What was she going to do with enough spaghetti sauce to feed ten people? She turned out the lights, set the coffeemaker, and walked to her bedroom, wishing Mike wasn’t out of town. She didn’t want to be alone in the house, alone with memories of laughter and good times.

  She slid beneath soft yellow sheets. Maybe she’d get a smaller bed so it didn’t feel so empty. She hadn’t thought about redecorating the bedroom, but that would give her something to do. She reached for the romance novel on the nightstand. After a few pages she set it aside. She was tired of reading about passion instead of living it, and she was tired of reading about heterosexual romance. She’d seen a paperback on the counter in the girls’ apartment, surprised the cover showed two women embracing, even more surprised when Steph explained about lesbian fiction.

  What else didn’t she know about? She needed to look at that website and order some lesbian romance novels. That was something she could do for her future. Sadness engulfed her. Did she want a future that consisted of reading about women falling in love? She wanted to feel love—her lips raw from kissing, her skin flushed from orgasms, her fingers wet from…She turned off the light, hugged her pillow to her chest, and cried for the uncertainties of her future.

  *

  Jamie woke with a start. What was that fragrance? Carla. Sitting up, she looked around the room. The sweater fell to her lap. She fingered it and then held it to her face. Was it the same perfume she’d worn that night? It was close enough to bring a flood of memories. Tossing it on the coffee table, she fled the office.

  She pulled into her driveway expecting to see lights on. Sheryl didn’t have a meeting tonight. There was a note on the kitchen counter: “Went to a movie with a friend.” She crumpled it. This had to stop. She needed to get out of the office at a decent hour. They needed to spend time together. Her stomach growled. She should have picked up takeout, but she’d assumed Sheryl had gotten dinner for them. She poured a generous amount of Glenlivet into a tumbler and took a long sip. It landed hard in her stomach.

  Her loafers made a hollow tapping sound on the hardwood floor as she walked to the bedroom. She flopped on the bed and lay on her back. Loneliness crept over her like a malevolent shadow as she rubbed her palms over the bedspread. It was satiny and soft, and she liked the deep blue and burgundy. It was the only thing she’d picked out in the room Sheryl had decorated—pale-blue walls, light-colored furniture too modern for Jamie’s tastes. Jamie remembered pulling the bedspread from the shopping bag, tossing it over the bed, and the two of them jumping on top of it and making out.

  There used to be lots of moments like that. Would they have them again when her business problems were resolved and Sheryl got her promotion? Could they wait that long? She ran her hand over her abdomen. It was still flat but not as defined as it had been in her youth. Did Sheryl still find her attractive? She fingered the hair at her temples. She’d do something about the gray. She was starting to doze when her eyes snapped open. Sheryl’s car. Vaulting off the bed she hurried to open the door for her.

  “Wow, you look terrific.” Jamie followed Sheryl to the kitchen, taking in the tight jeans and apple-green scoop-neck T-shirt. “God, I’m happy to see you.” She wrapped her arms around Sheryl, lifted her off the ground, and kissed her. “How was the movie?”

  “Good. A romance. You wouldn’t have liked it.”

  “I like romance.” She kissed her way up Sheryl’s neck.

  “Tickles.” Sheryl pulled away and filled a glass with ice from the refrigerator door. “I have some good news about the promotion.”

  “You got it? Why didn’t you call me?” When Sheryl smiled, Jamie saw the happy woman she’d fallen love with.

  “I didn’t get it,” Sheryl said, “but I got ten minutes alone with the superintendent when I went by the district office today, and he said he liked my preliminary plan for revamping the advanced-placement curriculum. And…” A smirk replaced the smile. “He said that just between the two of us he supported how I handled that situation last year.”

  Jamie’s stomach dropped. She didn’t like the way those girls had been treated. She didn’t like that Carla’s version differed from Sheryl’s. “Are you sure—”

  “He said I’m the kind of person he wants on his team.” Sheryl pulled her shoulders back. “I’m the front-runner for the new position.”

  “That’s great, babe.” Shouldn’t she just share this moment of victory with Sheryl?

  “Do you know what that means?”

  Jamie hoped it meant spending more time together. She looked away from Sheryl’s hungry expression. How had the determination she’d once admired turned into this obsession that made her feel irrelevant? “Do you really want his backing if he doesn’t support who you are?” Sheryl’s mouth tightened. “Isn’t there someone at the district office, maybe someone gay, who could…I don’t know, mentor you or advocate for you?”

  “I thought you supported me.”

  “I do.” Jamie stepped toward her. “I have a patient, a retired high-school principal, who’s a lesbian. I could talk to her. Maybe she knows someone at the district who—”

  Sheryl eyes softened. “Oh, Jamie. Always trying to help. I appreciate it, but honestly, his backing is all that matters. If he wants me on his team, I’m in.”

  Jamie closed her eyes when Sheryl kissed her. She wrapped her arms around Sheryl’s waist and held her tight. Isn’t this what mattered? Being connected? Sheryl was right. She deserved to have her dreams fulfilled, and it was her job to support that. She burrowed her face against Sheryl’s neck. I wish she’d change perfumes.

  “I’m so close to having what I want. By the time I’m your age I’ll be as successful as you.” Sheryl stepped away from her and poured Diet Coke into the glass.

  “Middle age isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” Jamie said, yawning. Had she ever been this tired?

  “Are you making progress with your business problem? I don’t want anything to go wrong this time.”

  “I won’t let it interfere with your promotion.” Sheryl’s smile softened the hard knot in her stomach.

  “Will you take me on a celebration trip after it’s official? Maybe New York? Now there’s a city for shopping.” Sheryl’s eyes sparkled.

  Jamie’s hopes rose. “Sure.” They’d get back to how they used to be. Soon. She pulled Sheryl into a hug. Their bodies still fit well together. “And in the meantime we need to talk about where to go for our anniversary.”

  “That’s next year.”

  “I guess technically that kiss was just after the stroke of midnight.” Jamie stroked Sheryl’s back. “Ten years. Now that’s something to celebrate. How about Hawaii for two weeks over your Christmas break?” Sheryl stepped out of her arms.

  “Two weeks is a long time.”

  “Haven’t you been complaining that I work too much? Come on, babe. Sun, beaches, just the two of us—”

  “The timing’s not good. I don’t want to be gone and miss an opportunity that could seal the promotion for me.”

  Jamie watched Sheryl walk away, her optimism sliding away with each step. What could she say to get Sheryl to put their relationship first? Worry settled in the pit of her stomach as she followed Sheryl to the bedroom.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jamie smiled at the laughter coming from the break room. Sara and Don were teasing Betty about abandoning them for silly things like vacations. This is how her office used to be. Poking her head in the doorway, she asked, “Has anyone seen Carla?”

  “She had
errands to do,” Betty said, her words garbled by the bite of sandwich in her mouth.

  “Join us,” Sara said.

  “I was going to—”

  “Come on.” Sara pulled out the chair next to her. “We’ll loan you a sandwich.”

  “How can I refuse an offer like that?” Jamie sat down between Sara and Betty. “So, last chance to change your mind,” she said to Betty.

  “I love you, Jamie, but not as much as my marriage.” She handed Jamie a sandwich. “No iced tea. You’ll have to settle for coffee.”

  “Speaking of which,” Don said, “who upgraded our coffee? This is great.” He set a cup in front of Jamie and sat across from her.

  “You can thank Carla for that,” Jamie said.

  “And I guess we can thank her for the beautiful bouquet on the front counter,” Sara said. “Just about every patient has commented on it.”

  “She brought the flowers in from her own garden,” Betty said.

  Half an hour later Jamie pushed back from the table, full from the sandwich and revived by the conversation.

  *

  Carla came back late from lunch. She’d made up a nonexistent errand as an excuse to get out of the office. Away from Jamie. She ignored the patients in the reception area. She usually made it a point to talk to them, but she just couldn’t today. She reached for the Kleenex in her sweater pocket as she ducked into her office. It was the sweater she’d put over Jamie last night, neatly folded on her desk this morning.

  This wasn’t going to work. She’d planned to tell Jamie first thing this morning, but Betty kept hugging her and telling her how glad she was that Jamie was in such good hands. Monday. She’d tell her Monday and offer to stay until she found someone else. The phone rang, and she blew her nose before picking it up.

  “Carla, it’s Pearl. We spoke the other day about your insurance billing problem.”

  “Yes, I remember.”