Going on Red

by Lyn Gardner

  “And she’s your friend,” Kate said, picking up her glass.

  “Yes, but that didn’t give me the right to storm into your house, and…and accost you.”

  Kate giggled, and Brodie relaxed a bit more. Leaning back in her chair, she gazed at Kate. The halter dress was light and delicate, and atop the white chiffon were large, lemony flowers with a hint of green here and there. It was easy to see Kate’s shapely legs through the glass tabletop, and courtesy of the high/low hem of the dress, the view it afforded Brodie was generous. The fact that Kate wasn’t wearing shoes hadn’t been missed and glancing at the heeled footwear under the table, Brodie said, “Sore feet?”

  Kate cocked her head to one side. “Do you have a foot fetish?”

  “Sorry?”

  “You heard me,” Kate said before taking a sip of her wine. “The first time we met, that night in Calabria, you said something about my feet being sore, and now, you’ve done it again.”

  It was Brodie’s turn to take a taste of wine, and as she returned her glass to the table, she said, “I was watching you standing in the queue that night, and you kept moving from one foot to the other, so I assumed your feet were sore. And now, since those cute little high heels of yours have been tossed to the side, I presume you’re having the same issue.”

  “You would be correct,” Kate said with a single dip of her head.

  “I’d offer to rub your feet, but you’d probably take it the wrong way.”

  “Is there any other way to take it?”

  “No,” Brodie said ruefully. “I suppose not.”

  For a moment, it grew quiet, and as Kate picked up her wine again, she glanced at the house. “By the way, I really like the addition. It’s beautiful.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re very talented.”

  Kate knew her compliment was truthful, and she believed it to be innocent, but when she saw Brodie’s tiny smirk, Kate felt her cheeks begin to heat. Desperate to find a subject change, when Kate noticed Brodie’s hair being ruffled by the breeze, she blurted, “How’s your head?”

  “It’s fine,” Brodie said, running her fingers through her hair. “Thanks for asking.”

  “I was…um…I was surprised to find you gone when I got up the next morning.”

  “I was feeling better and saw no reason to stay any longer, so I called a cab.”

  “Oh, I see,” Kate said, studying the woman. “How’s your lip?”

  “It’s also fine. How’s your hand?”

  Kate frowned. “I’m sorry that I hit you.”

  “Which time?” Brodie said, grinning.

  “Both times,” Kate said with a weak laugh. “You do seem to bring out the worst in me.”

  “Well, then I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t take it any further that night in the hostel.”

  It was clear Brodie wanted answers, and Kate knew she deserved the truth, but fear and jealousy prevented Kate from speaking it. Brodie had returned to her life of clubbing while Kate was still fumbling through yet another dead-end relationship, and to admit that particular fact seemed counterproductive. Kate needed to appear as if she had moved on with nary a blip in her life. She needed to appear happy and content. She needed to appear like all the things she wasn’t. In other words, Kate needed to lie.

  “Brodie, about that night. I want to apologize for what happened. It was all my fault.”

  Folding her arms, Brodie snickered. “Well, it sure as hell wasn’t mine.”

  “I made a mistake.”

  It was the last thing Brodie wanted to hear, and she sat straight in her chair. “Which part was the mistake, Kate? When you kissed me in your room or when you came into mine and did it again?”

  “Please, don’t be angry.”

  “Oh, darling, I got past angry months ago,” Brodie said, keeping her voice low. “You pushed me away, ran from my room, and then refused to speak a single word to me from that moment on. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought about that night? How many times I tried to figure out what I did wrong?”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I know,” Brodie said, sitting forward in her chair. “But it would have been nice hearing it from you then instead of now. Why couldn’t you have just told me that night, Kate, or the next day during our excruciatingly silent drive home? Why wait until today? Why wait this long?”

  “I was embarrassed, and I didn’t want to hurt you more than I already had.”

  “Hurt me, how?”

  Kate fingered the stem of her wine glass, unable to look Brodie in the eye. “Brodie, I got caught up in the charade, and I let things go too far. I am really sorry, but I’m into men…not women.”

  It was a painful death for the glimmer of hope Brodie had been desperately clinging to since she’d sat down, and an awkward silence fell over them. There was a part of her that wasn’t surprised. She’d noticed how Kate hadn’t looked her in the eye, and while she had laughed in all the right places, those, too, seemed strained, but hope is hope…until it’s been dashed.

  Brodie stiffened, the warmth of the day paling to the annoyance burning within her. Brodie knew she should leave before it rose to the surface, for if it leached out in her tone or expression, it would start yet another argument, and there was no point in arguing any longer.

  Kate saw Brodie pick up her wine and empty it in one swallow, and believing the woman was ready to leave, Kate tried to restart the conversation. “So…are you here with anyone?”

  “No,” Brodie said, raising her chin. “But you’re here with Fitzgerald. I saw you walking in the gardens with him earlier.”

  “Oh.”

  Brodie stared at the empty glass in her hand for a moment before raising her eyes. “Is it serious?”

  It only took a second for Kate’s mind to drift back to the night when she viewed the marks covering Brodie’s back left by a vampire named Talia, and a knot formed in her stomach. “Yes, as a matter of fact, it is,” she said matter-of-factly.

  Brodie clenched her teeth. She reached into her trouser pocket, silently damning herself a second later for having quit smoking, so taking a deep breath, she held it for a moment before slowly letting it out. When she did, her thoughts came, too. “He’s a wanker.”

  Kate’s eyes flew open wide. “Sorry?”

  “You heard me. Fitzgerald’s a prat, and his ego is larger than this bloody addition,” Brodie growled. “Honestly, Kate, I thought you had better taste than that.”

  “Oh, and you should talk.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “At least he doesn’t leave bruises!”

  “Oh, give him time, Kate,” Brodie said, sneering. “Just give him time.” Seeing Kate straighten in her chair, Brodie held up her hands. “Sorry. That was inappropriate. It seems like we both bring out the worst in each other.”

  “Brodie—”

  “Kate, if he’s who you want and what you want, then I wish you all the luck in the world. I just hope he appreciates what he has.”

  “What about us?”

  “There is no us, Kate,” Brodie said, leaning slightly forward in her seat. “There can’t be. You have a boyfriend now, and I seriously doubt he’ll want you spending your Friday nights with me, and, quite frankly, I was getting a bit tired of Italian anyway. I’m sure you and I will bump into each other occasionally, what with Cassidy being your sister, but other than that…other than that, I think it’s best we go our separate ways.”

  Their heads turned in unison when someone called Kate’s name, and seeing Julian walking toward them, Brodie got to her feet. “I’d better be going,” she said, and debating only for a moment, she leaned down and placed a light kiss on Kate’s cheek. As she pulled away, Brodie’s brow knitted. “You changed your perfume.”

  “Oh…um…yes. Julian bought this one for me. Why? Don’t you like it?”

  “Does it matter?”

  Brodie had yet to straighten, and hearing the sound of
approaching footsteps, she whispered, “You look lovely, by the way, but stay out of the sun. You’re starting to burn.”

  “Thanks,” Kate said softly. “I’ll do that.”

  “Shaw, I’ve got a small bone to pick with you,” Julian said as he neared the table.

  With their faces still only inches apart, Brodie gave Kate a wink before standing tall and turning to face Julian. “Yes,” she said, giving him the once over. “I heard it was small.”

  Kate choked back a laugh, and averting her face, she covered her mouth with her hand in hopes of stopping the rest welling up inside of her.

  Julian’s nostrils flared like a charging bull as he glowered at Brodie. “Where in the hell are my stones?”

  Brodie sucked in her cheeks. “Lost them, did you?”

  “I have had enough of your crap,” Julian said, intruding on Brodie’s personal space. “My stepping stones have been replaced along with all the pavers with my company name on them. Now where the fuck are they?”

  “In the rubbish would be my guess.”

  “What gives you the right to touch my work?”

  Brodie sniggered. “Trust me, Fitzgerald, I don’t want to touch anything of yours,” she said, slipping her hands into her trouser pockets. “However, when Dori called the other day and said she didn’t appreciate your advertisements in her garden, I rang up Ethan, and he had them removed, and now I think it’s time for me to leave.” Brodie glanced at Kate. “It was nice talking to you, Kate. Do enjoy your day.”

  Julian’s cheeks burned even redder as he watched Brodie stride across the patio and back into the house. “Come on,” he said, looking at Kate. “I’m going to need your help.”

  “What?”

  “The bins are on the other side of the house.”

  Kate’s mouth dropped open, and for a second, she just stared at Julian. “Are you…are you saying you want me to rummage through the rubbish dressed like this?”

  “Well, I can’t very well do it myself. There are dozens.”

  “I’m sorry, Julian, but I think I’ve had a bit too much sun and—”

  “It’s a bloody sunburn, Kate. It’ll disappear in a few days,” he said, scowling. “But those stones and pavers cost me a fortune. Now, come on. Up you go…and for Christ’s sake, put on your shoes.”

  ***

  Kate stepped inside her empty house and flicked on some lights. She dropped her handbag on a chair, letting out a sigh as she kicked off her shoes. Kate had no idea what direction her life was heading. She only knew that Julian Fitzgerald’s number would no longer show up on her caller ID.

  She slogged up the stairs and stripping off her clothes, she headed into the bathroom and filled the tub. She needed to wash off the sweat of the day and the smell of his trendy aftershave. A few minutes later, Kate sunk into the steaming water and hissed at the heat as it enveloped her. She relaxed back against the tub, immersing herself up to her neck, and as she looked up at the ceiling, she thought about the day…and about Brodie.

  She missed her. She missed those dark eyes that twinkled when banter became filled with innuendo or a joke had been made at Kate’s expense. She missed sharing a dinner prepared for one but eaten by two, and Kate missed that goddamned confidence that bordered on cocky.

  Weeks of denial and nights of vodka dinners had done nothing to erase the feelings Brodie had stirred. They had been friends for a while, but Kate knew they could never be just friends again. The night in the hostel proved that. She had run from the room, frightened of the feelings that had caused her body to pulse and her heart to race. She had never been so hungry for another, and Kate’s mind spun out of control at the possibilities. She was scared. She was terrified. She was in love.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Rhonda Monroe walked into her kitchen and almost dropped the bags she was carrying. “Kate! I thought that was your car down the street. Let me just get rid of these packages, and we can have a proper hello.”

  Kate stayed slumped in the chair. She was exhausted. It wasn’t because she had to walk a block to get to her mother’s house, and it wasn’t because she’d run up a flight of stairs. It was because of thinking. Kate was tired of thinking.

  Sixteen nights had crept into fifteen mornings with sleep coming in short spurts, and when the blaring of her alarm woke her, it would start all over again. Two opposing arguments took up all the space in her head, and if Kate had said them aloud, she would have screamed them, but instead, they remained in her mind, jabbing and pummeling at her like prizefighters. There wasn’t a morning that had gone by when Kate hadn’t stared into the bathroom mirror, wondering who she was and what she was, and then she’d go about her day, pretending she knew the answer. The night before, Kate had sat in her lounge, sipping wine and staring off into space, trying once again to win an unwinnable argument. No matter how many variables she added to the mix, the answer came back the same. It was time to stop running. It was time to face her fears, and it was time to stand up for her sister.

  As her mother came to the table, Kate pushed herself out of the chair and gave her a quick hug. “Hiya, Mum.”

  “Oh, I can’t believe you’re here. What a nice surprise,” Rhonda said, holding Kate at arm’s length. “How long are you planning to stay? The county fair starts tomorrow, and we could spend all day—”

  “I’m heading back later today.”

  “What? Oh, that’s preposterous. Why drive three hours only to turn around and do it all again?” Rhonda said, waving off the idea with a flick of her wrist. “You’ll stay for at least the night. I insist.”

  “I can’t do that, Mum. I have to work.”

  “Call them and tell them you’re sick. I’m your mother, Kathryn, and what I say goes. Now pick up the phone—”

  “Mum, please stop,” Kate said, motioning for her mother to sit down. “I’m here because we need to talk.”

  “Talk?” Rhonda said, sitting down. “Oh, my Lord. You’re not sick, are you?”

  “No, Mum. I’m not sick.”

  “Thank God,” Rhonda said, splaying her fingers over her chest. “Then what’s so important you drive all the way up here to spend only a few hours? I thought I taught you better than to waste your time on frivolous trips.”

  “Devon is why I’m here.”

  Rhonda’s face lit up, and she clapped her hands together in glee. “Oh, I was so hoping you were going to say that! What do you think we should do? Do you have a plan?”

  “A plan?”

  “Well, of course. I’m sure between the two of us, we can come up with something to bring your sister to her senses. We could find a doctor or…or a psychiatrist perhaps, and he could—”

  “Mum, Devon doesn’t need a doctor or a psychiatrist.”

  “She most certainly does.”

  “There is nothing wrong with Devon, Mum. She’s a les—”

  “Don’t you dare utter that disgusting word in my house,” Rhonda said, jumping to her feet. “What Devon is doing is filthy. It’s perverted and unnatural. It goes against everything I tried to teach you girls, and it goes against God. As the good Lord is my witness, Kate, that woman will never set foot in my home again if she chooses to live such a deviant life.”

  “You’re being irrational,” Kate said, standing up. “Devon’s just trying to live her life. Be happy for her.”

  “Happy? Happy! How in the world can I be happy for something as…as appalling as the lifestyle Devon has chosen? It’s vulgar, just like that bloody friend of yours. She’s the reason—”

  “Gina is not vulgar, and she didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “What she and your sister are doing is wrong!”

  Kate stiffened and lowered her eyes. In an instant, the tone of her mother’s voice transported her back to her childhood, yet a few seconds later, Kate relaxed. She had spent the three-hour drive rehearsing over and over what she planned to say, and in her repertoire, she had answers for every scenario and rebuttals for every ludicrous argument. />
  Kate raised her eyes and straightened her posture. “That’s not your place to say.”

  “I’m her mother!”

  “Since when does that give you the right to tell us how to live? Look around, Mum. Devon and I have our own careers. We have our own lives, and whether you like it or not, you don’t get a vote in whom we choose as our partners. We aren’t kids anymore, Mum. We’ve grown into two independent women. We’re self-sufficient, we think for ourselves, and we make our own decisions…and that’s exactly what Devon’s doing.”

  “This is not a decision! This is a grievous error that’s going to send Devon straight to hell, and I will never approve of it, young lady. Never!”

  “You don’t have a choice.”

  “Oh, that’s where you’re wrong. Until your sister comes to her senses, you are my only daughter. I’ve already changed my will and removed her name from everything. And since I’m assuming Devon or that tart friend of yours put you up to this stupid attempt to change my mind, please feel free to take this message back to London with you. As far as I’m concerned, I wish Devon had never been born.”

  “Mum, don’t say that. Devon’s your daughter. You love her, and she loves you.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t know anyone by the name of Devon,” Rhonda said, waddling to the stove. “I think I’m going to have some tea. Would you like some?”

  Before Kate had even climbed into her car that morning, she knew she had two battles ahead of her. One would revolve around her mother’s ability to deny anything she didn’t want to accept. The woman was an expert at it, and it had almost ruined Kate’s and Devon’s relationship with their father. The second was one Kate was all too familiar with. Her mother’s stubbornness even bested Kate’s, and many a disagreement between them had lasted for days until Kate would finally cave. But Kate couldn’t cave today. Today the issue was more important than the clothes she wanted to wear, the movie she wanted to see, or even the boys she had once wanted to date. Today it was time to start righting wrongs…no matter what the cost.