Chapter Twenty
The warm body against Jordan woke her the next morning. A hand held her stomach tightly; breasts pushed into her back. Breasts? Disoriented, Jordan squinted at the room. Her shirt was up, skin against skin, but her body’s memory was miles ahead of her, totally alert. Totally turned on. Brie mumbled something and the hand was gone. They both sat up, staring at each other, until Brie’s breath hitched, breaking the spell.
“I’m sorry,” Brie whispered. She adjusted Jordan’s T-shirt and then her own.
“C’mere,” Jordan said, pulling Brie back into her. “I’ll hold you. I want to hold you.” She tried to shift her body into a lower gear but took a deep breath as Brie snuggled into her.
“I woke up in the middle of the night, remembering.” Brie sounded shaky. “I remembered Niki on the sand, what I did. But I’ve lost it. Again. All I can remember is sand and blood. Thank God you were here. I’d have left. I thought I heard Niki talking last night.”
“Could you understand what she said?”
“She was talking about the card she’d given me on the way to the beach that day. It had airplane tickets for a vacation and she had written something that I can’t remember, except that it made me laugh. We were drinking…something.” Brie rolled to the edge of the bed and sat up. “This sucks.”
“Yes,” Jordan said to Brie’s back as she left the bedroom, then popped back into the doorway.
“Want to take a shower while I’m getting dressed?”
Jordan reached for her clothes. “Deal. I’d better call home as well.”
After she’d showered, Jordan walked toward the kitchen, talking on the phone to her mother and then to John. She explained that she would not be in today and they talked business as she checked the refrigerator.
“Do you want to try my special eggs?” she called to Brie.
“I was just going to offer cereal,” Brie answered and laughed. “Eggs. Yum.”
Jordan loved the smell of the chopped green onions and the other spices she used for this breakfast. This felt good, making breakfast in Brie’s kitchen. Finally, they sat across from each other and Brie closed her eyes after the first bite.
“This is delicious,” she said. “No wonder Pete married you.”
“Pete married me because I was pregnant.”
“I’d marry you for these eggs.”
Jordan snickered. “That’s a first.”
Brie reached for her vitamin and the pills the doctor had given her the night before. She held them up for Jordan. “When I got out of the hospital, I was taking so many pills that I had to count them out on a daily basis. Thank God I’m past that.”
“I just drank anything I could get my hands on.” Jordan got up with their plates. “You don’t need all those pills anymore and I don’t need alcohol. We’re going to be great.” She began to rinse their dishes.
“Jordan, leave everything. I’m fine. The only thing I have to do is pack for the New Mexico trip, do some writing on my book.” She finished her orange juice.
At the sink, Jordan turned to look at Brie. Her color was good and her eyes were clear. She finished her coffee and put the cup in the sink. “Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”
“Yes. Have a good day.” Brie got up from the table and hugged Jordan hard. “I’d never have made it through yesterday and last night without you. I have an appointment with the therapist this afternoon and I’ll call you when I can.”
“Okay, but if you need anything, I’ll be here or anywhere in a heartbeat.”
In the driveway, halfway to her car, Jordan stopped. When was Brie leaving for New Mexico? She turned, expecting to see her standing at the door, but it was closed.
*
Jordan walked up the long walk to her house. She stopped to check her flowers, then settled into a patio chair. The leaves were beginning to fall. She’d have to put away the outdoor furniture soon. The kids loved to rake leaves and take care of the flowers. Maybe this weekend… Her mind idly rambled, finding its way back to last night and this morning.
“Jordan?” Her mother’s voice startled her. “How is Brie? How did it go last night?”
“I was coming over to talk with you,” Jordan answered and they began to walk across the backyard. Sunlight caught the gazebo’s shiny dome, making her think of the carving in the studio. A shadow of something shuffled through her mind. Brie and the statue.
“You didn’t answer me,” her mother said.
“Sorry, Mom. I’m distracted. What’s your day like?”
“Nothing more than thinking about dinner. After you called this morning, I assumed you’d gone to work. Just happened to see you go by.”
“Do you have coffee?”
They sat at the kitchen table and talked. Jordan told her about Brie’s sudden memory and how she had lost it again. Her mother’s face creased in a frown. “This is going to be a very hard thing for her, Jordan. Sudden memory, even in the instance of a normal death, can have terrible repercussions.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. She looks good but feels fragile.” Jordan fiddled with her cup and finally plunged in. “Mom, Brie and Niki lived together, as more than friends. I thought you might have a problem with this.” Jordan raised her eyebrows, waiting for her mother to react.
“Tyler and Jenna like Brie. I do too, and I loved her books.”
“But the Church…” Jordan couldn’t finish, searching her mother’s eyes.
“Jordan,” her mother began and then stopped. “Let’s talk about us. I loved your father with every piece of myself, just as you did Pete. I simply couldn’t handle it when he died.”
“Don’t apologize. I was horrible after Pete.” Jordan made a derisive noise. “Is that really why you turned to the Church? You couldn’t handle it?”
Her mother nodded. “I’ve been meaning to tell you what a good job you’ve done with Jenna and Tyler, through all this with Pete and those hard years afterward. You’ve come out of this very nicely.”
“You knew?”
“Of course I knew you were in the bars. I don’t live on an island.”
“I saw Dr. Bauer last week. I’m okay, Mom.” Jordan gauged her mother’s expression. “Mom, about Brie. I’m interested in her. Obviously, she’s still struggling with Niki but, if it should happen, would you…be angry? We’d be back to where we were, before these last few months?”
“Interested in her?” Her mother’s face was careful, reflecting no opinion or judgment. “You mean, as in the way Brie lived with that woman?”
“Yes. I’ve always been honest with you about Pete. The rest of those men were just…I’m not sure what they were.”
“Men love you, Jordan. I’m surprised.”
“I’m surprised too,” Jordan said and got up for more coffee. “Mom, you can’t say that I didn’t try with every man that you had over for dinner. It isn’t men, it’s everyone. I know you’ve noticed that I’ve dropped all my friends. No one moved me, interested me. Until Brie.”
Her mother’s mouth was set in a firm line but she nodded at Jordan’s words. “I noticed. When your dad died, it was as if someone pulled the carpeting out from under me. I lost my way, I admit it. And the Church had all those nice rules, in place, something to guide me.” She paused. “Are you sure this isn’t that? Trying to find something to guide you?”
“I’m sure. I went through men like Kleenex after Pete, and I can honestly say that I never met one that truly interested me.”
“Give me some time,” her mother said. “Let me think about it. Please?”
Jordan smiled a little. “Of course, but I warn you, I’m going to try to change your mind.” She started to leave but looked back. “Would you like some help with dinner? Otherwise, I’m going to work in the studio.”
“No, I’m fine. I’m trying a new recipe, something I brought back from Ireland.” Her mother hugged her. “Jordan, all those years we missed together. Give me this chance to make up some of those moment
s.”
Chapter Twenty-One
The minute Jordan left, Brie finished her packing for the trip to New Mexico and then checked her computer. Her e-tickets for the trip to New Mexico tomorrow night were confirmed. She checked the clock and saw that she had time for another cup of coffee before she had to see her therapist.
She found her glasses and toggled over to her book file on the computer. The cursor on her computer blinked while Brie examined the scene and the character she’d last written for her Civil War fiction. “Facile, lithe body, dark brown eyes with gorgeous lashes, and curly black hair.” Brie smiled at the image in her head. Niki’s twin, right down to the quick temper. Niki had teased her mercilessly about some of the decisions Brie’s main character in the story had made. But Brie had also written the smart, clever side of Niki. The tenderness and love too. Although she hadn’t set out to write it that way, the books had somehow become her love story to Niki.
However, some of the scenes had been written to rile Niki up, and it had worked. Brie laughed a little, remembering. She reached for the second book. She knew the page by heart.
That day, when Niki had first read this scene, dinner was ready when Brie came home. She’d tossed her briefcase in her office and changed into shorts and a Brewers T-shirt. Barefoot, she walked into the kitchen just as Niki came in from the deck.
Brie had kissed her but Niki had stiffened. “What’s the matter?” Brie had asked, feeling the resistance.
Niki pointed to Brie’s book beside her plate. “I was cooking and reading your book,” she said. “What were you thinking of? That character has—” She had stopped and Brie saw that Niki was not angry, just ticked off.
“Has what?” Brie had asked, confused. She had glanced at the book, saw where the book mark was placed and knew immediately.
Niki finally finished her statement. “No couth.”
“Couth?” Brie asked innocently. In fact, Niki was dead-on. They’d had an argument as Brie had been writing the book, and she’d replicated the argument in the book.
“Brie,” Niki had said as she began to put the food on the table. “Do you have to put our private life in your books?”
At that moment, Brie had felt a small pang of remorse. A small pang. “I’m sorry, baby. But you have to admit, it added quite a bit of zing and a lot of people thought it was funny.”
“Me? Furious as usual. Barefoot. Running out of the house after someone in my underwear and sweatshirt when it was snowing? That was funny?”
“It was to some people, as well as the dialogue.” Brie bit back a grin. “But it wasn’t a sweatshirt and underwear. It was a long nightgown and she wore her father’s boots.”
“Who cares? I know what you meant.”
“Still,” Brie had said, shaking her fork at Niki.
“I never called you a troll.”
Brie had merely raised her eyebrows.
“Did I?”
“You did, but who cares? Remember later that night? You can call me anything you want if you promise to keep on apologizing like you did then…and not so long ago.”
Brie closed the book and laughed, recalling that particular moment. And just as quickly, she was crying. Christ! She missed Niki. She missed their life.
Sad and restless, she got up and went down the hall to Niki’s office. She looked at the open desk drawer. It was almost empty and she pulled out the remaining files. It was Niki’s research on their house, the cottage. Brie put the files into a new box. Niki had worked hard on the research. For that matter, Brie had too. She’d put in quite a few hours at school, pursuing something Niki had asked for. The drawer was empty so she closed it slowly, feeling as if she was putting Niki’s life away.
She looked up at the wall, the discs. Had everything in her life revolved around Niki? No, just the important parts, she thought sadly. She didn’t want to lose Niki, ever. The moment she’d just recalled, with Niki and the book over dinner, was crystal clear in her mind. Why couldn’t she remember those few minutes on the beach? If the human mind truly stored everything, where was the shooting? Or yesterday?
The remote control was on the desk, where Jordan had left it. She examined it nervously, put it back on the desk, then picked it up again. Could she find it, that memory? She’d spent time at the beach where they were shot and nothing had happened. She lived here, in their house, but nothing had released the things she suspected had been in her mind yesterday. Worse, it felt as if the shooting had just happened, all over again. That and a brief memory of blood on sand.
Once again, she looked at the discs. She rubbed her wet eyes. She hadn’t cried like this in weeks. What if she did know something the police could use, even if it wouldn’t bring Niki back? Did you feel any pain, Niki? Or see me get shot? Were you ever conscious in the hospital when I wasn’t?
She gripped the desk. “All right,” she said. “I’ll see the therapist and then come home and do this.”
*
Jordan stood before the workbench in her studio. She’d played a little kickball with the kids and cleaned the studio after the afternoon’s work. The little owl was about done. She held it up, turning it slowly in her hands. All it needed was a little color.
The almost dusk was robbing the room of light and Jordan turned the overhead lights on. She could hear the kids still playing in the yard. Mom wanted them in to dinner soon. She turned back to the large, elegant carving. Brie’s suggestion of just having one foot emerge was worth considering, and she examined the base of the statue, running her fingers lightly over the wood.
Some subtle color should be added to shadow the woman’s clothing. She’d already added one shallow dimple this afternoon, but color on the face? The eyes? The mouth?
Her camera was on the workbench and she went through the photos one by one until she came to the picture she was looking for. It was Brie, sitting on the pier at the lake in an unguarded moment, the wind catching her hair. She looked so relaxed. Jordan compared this image to last night. Brie had been completely wrecked at the hospital and later.
She turned back to the carving. Perhaps if she put just a hint of color into the eyes? Jordan looked back at the photo. Blue eyes, the color of stained glass in the rain.
*
Brie woke with a gasp. It was dark. Her arm was numb and she rolled to her back. She shook her arm and rubbed it until it tingled. “What the— Where?” she said hoarsely. She stretched hard, like an animal, and tried to get her bearings. The kitchen lights were on, leaving a thin triangle of light on the wall.
Her hand hit the remote on the floor beside her. She’d been lying on the floor, listening to Niki’s discs, and had fallen asleep. She licked her dry mouth and made a face. It tasted like burnt rubber. She grabbed the edge of the desk, got herself up, then picked up the remote. It was the winter before they were shot. Niki was talking about the house and the flowers for spring. Brie remembered it and shut the system off.
Her arm was still tingling and she shook herself. “Damn.” She headed to the kitchen for something to drink. She peered into the refrigerator. There was orange juice. Or sangria? No, better stick with orange juice. She was already fuzzy-headed.
She looked inside the pharmacy bag on the table. Packets of pills? Right, samples that the therapist had wanted her to try. All the pills in the world wouldn’t bring her memory back. Even the therapist admitted that. She’d also admitted that this kind of recall was commonly triggered by an event. Brie massaged her temples and wondered how rude she’d been. She distinctly remembered asking furiously, For what purpose? I can stay in therapy until I’m a hundred years old. What good does all of this do?
Brie stood and finished the orange juice. Two years of this and I’m still looking at a blank wall. Until yesterday. “Except for blood on the sand. Let’s not forget the damned blood on the sand.” This was like walking around with a bomb.
She turned off the kitchen lights and went to her bedroom. She took two pillows and the comforter off the bed, opened
the closet, and tossed them inside.
Later, after brushing her teeth and washing her face, she lay on the pillows on the closet floor and pulled the blankets over her. Expecting the faint scent of Niki to comfort her, she closed her eyes but a few minutes later, she was still not asleep.
There was a new scent. She sat up and touched the clothes above her. Fleece? It was Jordan’s jacket. That smell was the distinctively hers, wood and spicy shampoo.
“No,” she said. She pulled Jordan’s coat off the hanger and threw it into the bedroom. Arms over her face, she thought about Niki’s voice today, the things she’d said. The flowers she’d found. That she’d never seen them bloom or smelled their sweet fragrance made Brie begin to cry once again. She closed the closet door and tried to find the scent that was Niki, but there was nothing. She stood and felt the clothing. Nothing. The clothing she was holding could have belonged to anyone. Just like Niki’s desk, the cottage was slowly emptying of Niki.
Her heart began to pound. Not just Niki but even Jordan’s scent was gone as well. If she’d lost Niki, she could lose Jordan, just as quick. She licked her lips again as panic began to inch inside. She sank back to the floor. She couldn’t stand the thought of losing Jordan as well. Just as her scent had disappeared, so could Jordan. Niki had.
Brie rolled over onto her stomach and buried her face in the pillow. Her mind raced as she fought the rising fear. The only thing to do was to end the relationship with Jordan. Before something happened.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Collision Course Page 19
