by Lynn Galli
“You made it! I’m so glad to see you.” Her voice overfl owed with joy, and my heart soared at the sound. She pulled me into a 21
Lynn Galli
hug. The command to kiss her pounded away inside my head like a throbbing headache.
“Same here.” I kept my response clipped for fear that my crazy thoughts might subliminally make their way into my speech. I couldn’t manage anything else until she released me.
“Long trip? I watched the New York game and listened in on the radio to the others. You played great, as always.”
The comment elicited a modest smile. “Thanks. When’s your fl ight?”
“In about an hour. I was just walking to my gate when I saw you coming down the hallway,” I lied. I’d been there for thirty minutes.
“What luck. I get to hang out with you till you board the plane.” Quinn turned us toward the gates with a hand on my back.
Reaching back, I found her arm and stopped us from advancing. Heat seared my fi ngertips and threatened to send the fl ush to my cheeks. I pulled her hand away as casually as I could manage without letting my friend know how certifi able I was.
“That’s all right. You’ve got to be tired. Grab your bags with the rest of the team and go home. Rest a little before practice this afternoon.”
“But I haven’t seen you for almost two weeks, and you’re gone for four days. Even if it’s only an hour, I want to hear about what I’ve missed and what you’ll be doing for work in Baltimore.” Her eyes showed hurt, even if her face held a hopeful smile.
Tears threatened my perpetual calm, forcing me to blink harshly. Intense emotions accompanied Quinn’s everyday kindness, and I found it almost too much to bear. My mind issued commands to keep my hands from attacking this woman in the middle of the airport. “My colleague should be at the gate by now. He’s going to want to go over our dinner meeting tonight since we’re not sitting together on the plane. So, really, head home. We can catch up when I get back. Thursday night? You 22
Finally
don’t have a game, and I’ll have recovered from my trip to the home offi ce.” I hoped my statement wouldn’t appear as a blow off. Quinn needed the rest, and I needed to still these feelings I’d been having for months.
“Thursday night? It’s a date,” Quinn said casually. Words like that obviously didn’t have the same effect on her. “I’ll go grab my bags then if you’re sure you won’t let me keep you company?”
I felt longing slip into my glance, but I packed it back in and said with a light tone, “No. Enjoy your week, and I’ll see you Thursday.”
With that, she squeezed my arm and nodded her head goodbye. Scooping up her carryon with ease, she walked down the corridor toward baggage claim, her posture unencumbered by the dismissal. I wasn’t as fortunate. My heart felt like a rodeo bull had been set loose inside it, wildly kicking, twisting, and fl ailing to buck the rider trying to control it.
23
FIVE
Idling in her car outside Willa’s house, Quinn couldn’t bring herself to turn off the engine. Moisture developed in the palm that still rested on the steering wheel. She reached for the glove box, releasing the lever. The drawer fell open, half the contents with it. A take-out napkin fl apped precariously over the edge of the opening. She snatched it up before it drifted to the fl oor mat. Pens, maps, a fl ashlight and other assorted items drew her attention from her original purpose of wiping the nervous perspiration from her hand. The urge to organize her glove box consumed her as if she’d instantly developed obsessive-compulsive disorder.
With reluctance she scooped up the whole lot, shoved it back into the compartment, and slammed the door shut with her other hand. Neighbors wandered by with dogs and peered in at her, making her realize that her car was still running. She turned off the engine, understanding that she couldn’t delay this any longer.
Hanging out with Willa had grown more diffi cult by the outing. Not because she got on her nerves. Not because she was self-absorbed. And, not because Willa didn’t care about her. The diffi culty arose in the opposite of those reasons. Fun, thoughtful, smart, and genuine, just to name a few fi tting adjectives. Problems cropped up on the rare occasions when Willa glanced at her unreserved. Then it was clear that Willa did care. That struck her the most.
24
Finally
If they’d met under other circumstances, she’d be confi dent of Willa’s sexuality. Instead, everything about their relationship defi ned friendship. In the months since, they’d become good friends, caring friends, but the frustration of not knowing if Willa would rebuff her advances compelled her to act. Knowing for certain if Willa was straight or gay, even if she wasn’t interested, would erase the smothering tension she felt in her presence lately.
Not knowing ate away at her like a virus.
Once she’d gotten to know Willa’s sister, she’d tried talking to her, but Helen wasn’t much help. A high school boyfriend came up in casual conversation, mentioned specifi cally to point out that Helen discovered more about Willa from other people than from own her sister. She also named Chip, whom Quinn met at the restaurant two months ago. Helen summed up her sister with one word: private. But that made her all the more appealing to Quinn.
That Helen mentioned only boyfriends wasn’t encouraging, but Quinn had two boyfriends in high school and as a freshman herself. Perhaps Willa wasn’t ready to come out yet. Still when those unguarded moments slipped, she could swear that Willa had feelings for her. Especially last week at the airport when Quinn had labeled tonight as a “date.” A momentary spark lit up Willa’s eyes only to be blinked back into polite interest.
Just then, the red door to Willa’s house swung open. Helen and Willa’s friend Zoë ambled down the front steps together.
They ran a part-time gift basket company out of the spare room in Willa’s house, so they were often present before many of Quinn’s visits.
She sucked in a calming breath, wiped the remaining fi lm of dampness from her palm, felt to make sure her face wasn’t hot with color, and stepped out of the car.
“Hey, Quinn,” Helen called out. “Will’s inside. We’ve wrecked her house crafting all day and made her fold some of 25
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the cards that we embossed when she got home. She hated every minute of it. I’m not sure she’ll ever let us back in.”
Quinn laughed. “She’s in a great mood, huh?”
“Will? I don’t think she’s ever been in a good mood.”
“Now, now,” Zoë interjected. “There was that one time when she saw a guy get into a fender-bender while trying to cut into the line of cars he’d just passed up. I’m pretty sure there was a smile then.” Most of Willa’s friends loved giving her a hard time for feigning toughness.
“I forgot about that. She did actually smile,” Helen confi rmed in mock seriousness. “Anyway, hope you guys have fun tonight.
Door’s open. She’s on the phone and might not hear you knock, so just head in.”
Quinn waved goodbye as they piled into Zoë’s car. The red door stood ajar, inviting her inside. Many times, she’d seen Helen or Zoë waltz through the front door without knocking like her house was a sit-com set or something. Quinn wasn’t as comfortable with the action, but maybe Helen had given Willa a heads up as to her arrival.
Pushing through the door, Quinn heard her voice from the kitchen. “…need that product description for the business plan to start shopping it around to venture capitalists. We’ve been stuck for months. Just take that stuff from your brain, and throw it onto paper. We can’t get anywhere without your part of this.”
With her back turned, Willa didn’t realize that she was being watched. Shoulders hunched and tight with frustration were the only fl aws that Quinn could see. She liked that Willa was petite.
Slender but not scrawny. She never felt like she was going to crush her on the rare occasions when they hugged. Dark brown hair in soft, wavy curls that bothered her friend bec
ause they made her hair look slightly different every day. Intense brown eyes that could be so expressive at times and so secretive at others. Lips shaped in a fl attened M on top and full curve on 26
Finally
the bottom beckoned every time she smiled. Others wouldn’t consider her classically pretty, but Quinn found her both alluring and beautiful.
“You do realize you’re the hang up on this, right?” Willa shifted into an exasperated tone, and Quinn guessed she was talking to her best friend. Over the last couple of months, she knew that Willa had been trying to fi nalize a business plan for their dream of developing software games. Nykos liked to procrastinate, which frustrated her immensely. Last week, Willa fi nally admitted that to her. She wasn’t one for sharing her feelings and speaking negatively about any friends rated even lower. That she’d fi nally opened up to her was thrilling. Instinct told her that a relationship with someone who only opened up with one other person would be incredibly special.
It did bother her that she hadn’t met Nykos yet. They should have crossed paths at some point, especially since Willa had met most of her friends and teammates. At the last game, Quinn had to keep from running up the aisle to meet Nykos. Not wanting to draw stares from the crowd, she decided she’d have to wait until Willa was ready for them to meet. One more thing she was waiting for with Willa.
“You know, Kos, we could ditch our jobs, be our own bosses, and work on something that we both love, but we can’t get started without this product write-up from you.” Willa tugged at one of the collars on the cotton shirt that hugged her torso. Quinn would willingly sit out a game to know if she wore those provocative shirts on purpose whenever they got together. Probably not, since the rest of her wardrobe also perfectly suited her smaller frame.
And don’t start thinking about those fi ngers! Quinn commanded herself. Fingers that played the trumpet as a youth now pulled at Quinn’s desire as easily as they plucked at the shirt collar.
Willa started talking again, bringing her thoughts back from 27
Lynn Galli
that nimble hand that had drifted down to the counter to reorganize the already ordered pile of notepaper gathered at the base of the phone. “My inbox will have an email from you tomorrow, right?
With an attachment? Good. Saturday, we’ll go to dinner and discuss our next steps, okay? See you then.” Ending the phone call didn’t relax her shoulders any.
“Your sister said it was okay to let myself in,” Quinn spoke, startling her.
A deep thunk sounded as Willa’s hand fl ew to her chest in surprise. She blew out a long breath of air to regain her composure.
When she turned to greet Quinn, her face held the most blissful smile. “Hey there,” she spoke softly.
Quinn drew in a sharp breath. That smile and tone told her more about Willa than four months of friendship had. Maybe she wouldn’t have to sit out a game. “Hi,” she replied, basking in the uninhibited smile.
Moving forward, she watched her friend’s expression go from extreme happiness to slight trepidation. She didn’t let it advance to absolute fear before wrapping her up in a hug. She’d only tried this a few times because she knew Willa wasn’t much of a hugger, but tonight she couldn’t resist.
“Everything all right?” Her friend asked in the sardonic tone she utilized as a defense mechanism.
“I’m just glad to see you.” Quinn spoke into the silky hair that she’d only gotten to touch the one time. Citrus wafted a fragrant trail to her nose. She delighted in the fact that Willa instantly returned the hug. For their fi rst hug, it had taken a full minute before Willa fi nally raised her arms and awkwardly squeezed Quinn’s back.
“Right,” she continued in a lighthearted manner.
Quinn felt her start to pull away and suspected it had more to do with her wanting to be the fi rst to stop the hug rather than not wanting to be hugged. She responded by tightening her grip and 28
Finally
whispering, “And I know you’re happy to see me, too.” The arms squeezing her tightened in reply. Satisfi ed, she released her after a few more moments.
“What would you like to do tonight?” Willa directed her question toward the laundry room behind Quinn, a trait that used to bother her until she fi gured out that Willa couldn’t maintain eye contact whenever she was embarrassed or uncomfortable.
“I thought maybe I would cook for you.” She hadn’t planned on that. She wanted to take her out to dinner. She liked watching Willa in public. Her charisma worked like a magnet for friends and strangers alike. She also liked being with her in public, especially since it was getting more diffi cult to be with her in private.
“Oh!” Willa exclaimed, her eyes shot back to Quinn in surprise.
“You don’t have to do that. I could take us to dinner, or we could grab some sandwiches then head over to the waterfront?”
Quinn walked over to open the refrigerator. “No, I’m going to cook for us.” She loved to cook and enjoyed even more cooking for others. Her eyes scanned the shelves for something to make.
Grocery shopping was low on Willa’s priority list.
“You’re going to cook for me in my house? That doesn’t seem right. The stove hasn’t been used since Christmas when Helen’s blew up and we had to move the whole deal over here.”
“Did you help her cook?” Quinn turned after she’d pulled the items she needed to make dinner.
“Sure. I’m great with slicing, setting the table, and cleaning afterward. Plus, I can toast just about anything.” Her mischievous smile made Quinn very aware of the pounding pulse just under the surface of her skin.
“That seems fair,” she said offhandedly. Before Quinn thought better, she blurted out the one thing she’d been dying to say since realizing her feelings for Willa. “So, I’m gay.”
Willa’s head jerked into a double-take. Wide eyes accompanied 29
Lynn Galli
her attempt to speak, but her mouth closed without any sound escaping. She hadn’t even been that shocked after their fi rst hug.
“Sorry, I didn’t really know a good segue for that, but I wanted to tell you. I’ve been wondering if…well, if we might have that in common?” She reached out and gripped Willa’s arm. “Really, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. You’ve never asked me, and I guess my curiosity got the better of me with you.”
Brown eyes grew even larger. She waited for Willa’s expression to tell her something more, anything more. Understanding, fear, attraction, hope, even disgust, but all she got was a blank look, completely unreadable. “Hey, forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Quinn tried to fi ll the silence. “Why don’t we do this another night?”
Willa shook her head slightly as if jerking herself out of paralysis. “No. That’s okay. It’s not a big deal. We’re friends.
I’ve been told that humans do speak to each other about their private lives.”
Quinn knew that Willa’s friends teased her about having a limited emotional capacity. Loyalty made her want to smack each one of them. Even with the more cursory topics they discussed, she recognized the depths of her friend’s emotions. She just wished Willa would stop trying to hide them from her.
“I’ve never been comfortable talking about mine,” she went on. “I gathered you were the same way? Or at least by the way your teammates speak to you. I fi gured they didn’t know anything about your personal life.”
Quinn let out a soft laugh. “Pretty much. My friends and family know, but it’s easier to keep my teammates in the dark.”
“I can understand that.” Willa looked like she wanted to say something else, but she turned and walked into the kitchen.
Absentmindedly, she started loading things back into the refrigerator. Background noise fi lled the stunned quiet of the room.
30
Finally
“I don’t want to force you to talk about anything you don’t want to talk about.” Quinn wanted to help her put the food back, but she f
i gured getting too near Willa right now might make her more uncomfortable. “I hope that my being a lesbian doesn’t—”
“It doesn’t,” she cut her off forcefully. “Not at all.” Her eyes held Quinn’s for a moment before she returned to the task.
Quinn sighed in relief and sat back against the table. She’d always feared telling people whom she’d grown to care about.
With the food back in the refrigerator, Quinn took her cue to leave. She’d made Willa suffer enough tonight. “I’ve made a mess. Inappropriate questions, unwelcome admissions, awkward silences. If I stay longer, perhaps I can make one of us pray for a quick death to end the evening.” She chuckled as she watched Willa shut the refrigerator, shoulders even more tense than when she’d fi rst walked in. “Why don’t we call it an evening? We could try again when I get back from my last game on the road?”
Willa faced her, considering her suggestion. Brown eyes met blue. Quinn wished she could read her thoughts. Since that wasn’t going to happen, she stood up slowly from her perch.
Soft clacking in swift repetition sounded as Willa crossed the hardwood fl oor and pressed her back against the table. Surprise struck them both by the fi rm decision.
With Quinn perched, Willa stood almost eye level with her.
Her mouth opened to say something, and Quinn waited for reassurance that everything was fi ne so they could head out to dinner. Cherry blossom scent fi lled the space between them.
She’d grown to love that smell as it meant that her friend was nearby. The aroma made it diffi cult for her to think rationally, taunting her with Willa this close. She tried to catch Willa’s gaze, but those eyes studied her hair, her nose, her hands, anywhere else. A struggle took place inside Willa with her mouth losing the battle.
Quinn hated seeing her so frustrated. She watched her attempt 31
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