Making a Comeback

by Julie Blair

  Liz took the chair between Jac and her mom.

  “You look lovely,” Susan said. She was an older version of Jac and Peggy—slender, blond, blue-eyed.

  “Tell Jax what you’re wearing,” Hannah said.

  “Sundress. An early birthday present.”

  “Green that matches her eyes,” Hannah said. “Fit-and-flare silhouette, cutout back, scoop neck, spaghetti straps. Knockout.”

  Liz felt a blush creep up her throat. Shorter and cut lower than she would have bought, but she had to admit she felt beautiful. Hannah taking time away from her reunion with Kerri to buy her a present was a sweet gesture.

  “To beautiful women,” Frank said, lifting a reddish-colored drink. Blond and blue-eyed, he looked every bit the laidback islander in the Tommy Bahama shirt under his linen sport coat.

  Liz took a sip from the glass in front of her. Peachy, with a tang. Tropical. Was there alcohol in it? She couldn’t taste it and took another long sip. Tropical vacation. Fun and fantasy.

  “Here’s to Sex on the Beach,” Kerri said, lifting her glass.

  Liz swallowed wrong and started coughing. Jac patted her on the back.

  “The name of the drink,” Hannah said. “Although…” She kissed Kerri, longer this time, then whispered something in her ear that made Kerri smile. Conversation shifted to best snorkeling beaches.

  Jac leaned close. “I wish I could see how beautiful you look. Is that new perfume?”

  “Birthday gift, too.” Time for something new, Hannah had said, dabbing a bit of the delicately tropical fragrance on her throat. She squirmed on the seat. The new thong panties took some getting used to.

  “I like it.”

  “Picture time,” Frank said, pulling out his phone. They scooted their chairs together and the waitress took their group picture. After another round of drinks, they walked across to the restaurant.

  “Wow. I think that’s my word for the weekend. The restaurant…” Was a whole other kind of tropical. The super-romantic kind.

  “Can you add some adjectives?” Jac squeezed her elbow.

  “It’s laid out like a pavilion. Dark except for candlelight. White tablecloths and place settings. Floor-to-ceiling wooden panels are folded back so the restaurant opens onto a large pond. View to the ocean beyond it. Palm trees, plants, a rock wall along the right that has a waterfall.”

  She pulled out Jac’s chair and sat next to her. A waiter set another round of cocktails on the table, and Kerri ordered appetizers. “Two white swans are floating in the middle of the pond. Moonlight is reflecting off the water…” She let out a sigh, wrapped up in the beauty of the moment.

  “Sounds romantic.”

  It was, and Liz’s throat tightened. The swans nuzzled each other. Teri would say, “Like us, mated for life.” But that wasn’t true. The ache sucked the air from her lungs, and she put her hand over her chest. It hurt to be here without her.

  Jac put her arm across the back of her chair and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m sorry Teri’s not here with you.”

  “I don’t know why we never made time for a trip like this.” Jac’s hand was hot on her sunburned skin.

  “I have a whole list of things I would have done if I’d known I’d lose my sight. It’s hard when the future isn’t what you expected. I’m here for you if you want to talk about her.”

  “Thank you.” Jac’s friendship was the best kind—supportive without being intrusive, and she knew plenty about grief. “You know what. I’m on my dream vacation with my best friend and my sister. Teri would tell me to have fun, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” She held up her cocktail. “To Jac and Hannah for making my birthday special.”

  Cocktails and delicious food kept coming, and vibrant conversation kept her attention. For the most part. But then she’d notice the swans and the ache would capture her again. Finally, the meal came to an end. Liz took one last look at the swans as everyone got up to leave. She stood, then gripped the back of her chair as the room swayed. Or she swayed. Okay, there was alcohol in those drinks. When Jac took her elbow she said, “I’m a little unsteady. You should walk with one of your parents.”

  “Too much Sex on the Beach?” Jac’s eyebrow was raised.

  “Remember what happened the first night I had dinner with you?” She wasn’t repeating the fiasco of tripping, maybe hurting herself again or, worse, Jac.

  “I’ll take better care of you this time.” Jac put her arm around Liz’s waist.

  “Anyone up for dancing?” Frank asked when they were back in the lobby, spinning Susan around gracefully. “I know a great place.”

  “Definitely,” Hannah said, pulling Kerri close.

  “Definitely,” Liz echoed. Her mind was a gentle fog, and she felt like she was floating. “I love it here.” She sucked in a lungful of the warm, humid air that hung gently around her. She felt beautiful, not the sad mess she’d been for so long. She closed her eyes and then snapped them open as she tilted toward Jac, who steadied her with a hand to her stomach.

  *

  The bar was in a strip mall, unassuming outside and in. Not tropical, and for a moment Liz wanted to protest.

  “Not fancy,” Frank said, “but great dance music.” Several people called to Jac’s parents as they commandeered a table next to the dance floor. A middle-aged couple in matching Hawaiian shirts swiveled their hips and flipped their arms to eighties rock.

  “How about another round of Sex on the Beach?” Frank suggested, taking off his sport coat, giving the full view of the big yellow flowers on his olive-green shirt.

  “Sure.” The fuzzy edge of Liz’s buzz was wearing off, and she didn’t want it to. This wasn’t great dance music.

  When drinks had been delivered, Frank went to the jukebox, a sly smile on his face. A minute later Ellington’s “Take the A Train” sprang from the speakers.

  “We teach swing-dancing classes here,” Susan said, sashaying out to the dance floor and into her husband’s arms.

  “Let’s show them our stuff.” Liz took Jac’s hand. Swing dancing. Yes! She loved this vacation. She heard Kerri say, “I can’t dance to this.”

  Oh, but I can. “Dance floor’s fifteen-by-fifteen, your parents, and one other couple.” They’d only danced at Peggy’s Memorial Day and Fourth of July parties, but she’d never danced so easily with anyone. Jac spun her out, and there was just that swing beat, her feet moving to its sassy rhythm, and Jac’s hands reeling her in, pushing her out, never letting go.

  Another song began, and Jac swung her around to the new rhythm. She felt happy and beautiful, and this was the best vacation ever. They got a lot of looks and she couldn’t stop smiling. Someone said, “Those two are terrific dancers.” Yes, we are. Jac was smiling, too, her face flushed. They were good together.

  The song ended and the next one started. Frank Sinatra. “Just in Time.” One of her mom’s favorites. Hannah held Kerri, and Susan moved into Frank’s arms.

  “I love this song,” Jac said, pulling her close, cheek-to-cheek close.

  “Me, too.” Jac’s thigh was a light pressure against Liz’s crotch, her hand gentle on her bare back. In Jac’s arms, dancing felt like soaring, and she melted into it. Jac hummed near her ear and she closed her eyes. Everything faded but the music and the delicious sensations of being in Jac’s arms. Warmth and softness everywhere. Her lips found the corner of Jac’s mouth—

  The music stopped and Liz froze, trembling, too hot. Lipstick on Jac’s skin. Hers. Oh, God. Her stomach tumbled. “I need some air.” She stepped out of Jac’s arms and hurried out of the bar, gulping in air, embarrassed, confused by the feeling in her chest. The wrong feeling. Oh, God. She’d almost…She paced and fanned her face, trying to cool down. Damn this tropical air.

  “Why’d you run off like that?” Hannah fell into step beside her. “You and Jac make a stunning couple.”

  “I can’t feel this. I can’t.” It came out as a choked sob, and Liz crossed her arms against the evidence puc
kering her dress. Damn the new lacy bra Hannah had given her.

  Hannah stared at Liz’s chest and her face softened. “Lizzie…it’s okay to let yourself feel again.”

  “It’s not!”

  “So you’re attracted to Jac. A little vacation romance. Can’t you let it be okay?”

  “Teri deserves better than me getting—” Tears filled her eyes and her nipples were still hard and she hated this vacation.

  “It’s going to happen sooner or later, Lizzie.”

  “Don’t call me that.” She turned her back to Hannah. “I don’t feel well. I’ll take a cab back to…” Hell, she had no idea how to get to Jac’s parents’ home. “She hasn’t even been gone a year.”

  “Would it matter if it was next year? Ten years from now? When are you going to let yourself live again?”

  Liz whirled on Hannah, rigid with anger. The anger faded when she saw the sadness on Hannah’s face.

  “I miss her, too, but not letting yourself live doesn’t bring her back.”

  She’d said the same thing to Jac about Stephanie. No, it wasn’t the same thing. How could she be in Hawaii and need Kleenex? She didn’t resist when Hannah held her, trying so hard not to want it to be Jac’s arms around her. But Jac wasn’t safe anymore. “I am living. I’m playing and composing and—”

  “Keeping busy. Just like Dad.”

  “So what? I’ll be like those…” She sucked in a breath, desperate for composure. “Swans. They mate for life. They’re loyal. If one dies—”

  “Teri wanted you to keep living.”

  “Not this. She didn’t mean this. Music. Monterey. She meant for me to go on with our dreams.” Monday they’d be home. This would go away. “I can’t talk about this.” She’d be back in the condo. Back in her life where she belonged. Damn this vacation that had tricked her into feeling something she shouldn’t. “Please make sure I don’t dance with her again,” she said as they walked into the bar.

  “You can have Kerri. My toes are numb from being stepped on.”

  “I think she’s hopeless,” Liz said, grateful for the change in topic.

  “Who cares if she can’t dance? In bed she has great moves.”

  “Glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

  “You could be, too. Don’t let the past strangle the present.”

  Liz went to the bar and ordered an iced tea. She wanted to chase away the feeling of blurred edges.

  “Are you all right?” Jac was next to her, her voice as tight as her face.

  “Fine. Sorry. With the alcohol I got too hot.” Did Jac know she’d been about to kiss her? Liz couldn’t look at her. That funny feeling in her chest wouldn’t go away.

  “I’m tired. We’re going home, but Kerri has another bar in mind. Why don’t you go with them?”

  “Okay.” Liz was beat, but she needed some time away from Jac.

  “Snorkeling again in the morning? Dad wants to take us to his favorite beach.”

  “Sure.” She blocked out the memory of Jac in that suit as she sucked down the iced tea. The jukebox started up again. Bad eighties rock. Good. She ignored the stutter step her heart did when she remembered being in Jac’s arms. Three days and they’d be home.

  *

  Jac sat at the table on her parents’ deck. The middle of the night and it was quiet except for the faint sound of the ocean and the rustle of palm leaves. She turned her face into the warm, gentle breeze. Three more days of the tropical weather she’d always loved. Next week she’d be back to long pants and sweaters and water too cold to swim in. And Max. She missed his company and his steadiness.

  That last dance. Carried away, she’d pulled Liz too close, lost in the feel and smell of her. Lovers, her body said. Thank God Liz left when she did. She’d been about to kiss her. Her sex contracted as arousal pulsed through her again. The cold shower, the self-administered orgasms, and she couldn’t shake it. The pilot light of longing she’d felt the last few months was a furnace of desire threatening to undo common sense. Liz would never be over Teri. Not in that way. She squeezed the arms of the chair until her knuckles ached. After Monterey she’d come back here. Some time away from Liz. The slider opened. Please don’t let it be Liz.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Fine, Mom. Couldn’t sleep.”

  A chair scraped the deck beside her. “I’m glad you brought Liz over. I like her. She seems quite fond of you.”

  “It’s nice to have a friend.”

  “Looked like more than that on the dance floor. You never looked happy with Malcolm. With Liz…you look like you belong together.”

  “There’s nothing romantic between us.” Jac hesitated and then said, “Except in my mind.” It felt good to be honest with her mom. Before the interview with Liz’s journalist friend, she’d told her parents everything. The affair with Maria. Her intent to divorce Malcolm. The events leading up to the accident. They’d been understanding and supportive…the best of parental love.

  “You’re in love with her.”

  Why had she thought she could hide it from her mom? She nodded and sadness swallowed the longing, putting it in its place.

  “Have you told her?”

  “She and her wife had the fairy-tale kind of love you and Dad have, Peg and Roger have. If she’s ever ready for another relationship, and that’s a big if, it won’t be anytime soon.” And it wouldn’t be with her. Liz saw her as a friend and confidant and collaborator.

  “Do you want a relationship with her?”

  “I don’t know.” That was the other issue. The last time she’d been in love, it had ended disastrously. Liz wasn’t Maria, but still…Did she have the courage to risk her heart again?

  “Don’t let what happened with Maria cloud the present.” A long silence and then she said, “I’m so grateful you’ve let us back into your life.” Her mom’s voice cracked. “I’m so proud of you for doing the interview.”

  Without naming Maria, she’d been honest with Liz’s friend about the circumstances of that night. All she’d put in the article was that Jac had left the hotel and gone to a lesbian bar. It made her wonder again where Maria was. She could probably find out, but she didn’t want to know. She’d never forgive Maria for how she’d treated her that night or for not coming to see her after the accident.

  She wasn’t sure how she felt about the article. Relieved that she no longer had to hide. Uncomfortable about having to reveal personal details of her life. Surprised that the article had prompted more discussion about whether she was a lesbian and about whether she’d return to the stage than about the details of the accident. She’d always wish she’d made different choices that night, but Liz was right—she couldn’t bring Stephanie back by hiding away.

  “Promise me you’ll come back often.”

  “I promise.” Why had she cut herself off from everything and everyone all those years? Yes, she’d come back here with Max after Monterey and spend time with her parents.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Liz jerked the shower knob and cold water pelted her chest. Bad idea. Her nipples were overly sensitive. She covered them with her hands, sunburned skin tingling from the shock of the cold water. She’d woken up aroused and needed the unwanted feeling to go away. That damn dance Friday night. The memory of being in Jac’s arms kept ambushing her.

  She spun around and cold water beat against her back. She shivered, but the knot of arousal wouldn’t go away. She put her hand between her legs and separated her labia. Wet. The thick, slippery kind of wet. Her clit tightened and a jolt of need flashed through her. No, no, no. Jac was gorgeous in her shorts and sleeveless blouses. She stroked. God, she needed to come. Jac in that swimsuit, rubbing in sunscreen with her long, elegant fingers. Her clit hardened under her fingers. Jac’s thigh pressing against her sex with each step on the dance floor. The agonizing tease of it. The need to pull it against her, to satisfy the ache. Stroked harder. What would Jac’s lips feel like on—

  She plastered her palms to th
e tile wall. No, no, no. She was Teri’s. She was not going to come to visions of another woman’s touch. She ducked her head under the cold spray and waited for the torturous pulsing to subside. Damn Hannah and her tropical vacations. Tomorrow she’d be home in her condo where she belonged.

  She dressed in the shorts and blouse she’d bought yesterday on the shopping trip with Hannah and Kerri. She stood at the window in the guest bedroom for a long time, watching the ocean take form out of the dawn—dark gray, then dark blue, and finally sparkling turquoise. Sunday. Her birthday. Thirty-three years old. She checked her watch. Almost the minute she was born. They’d always woken each other up at the moments they were born and made love. This time last year—No, it hurt too much to think about that.

  She hurried to the kitchen for coffee. Everyone was on the deck. She joined them. Jac wore another colorful outfit, and her skin was a healthy pink from the sun. She should fasten another button on the blouse. “Wow, I’ve never seen a birthday candle in a…what is that?”

  “Pineapple fritter,” Susan said. “You’ll want to ship a box home.”

  “Oh. My. Gosh,” Liz said after the first bite.

  “Picture,” Frank said, catching her with powdered sugar all over her mouth.

  “How many Tommy Bahama shirts do you have?” Today’s was white with palm trees.

  “He wore them all the time in Carmel. He was a local legend,” Jac said, the first thing she’d uttered. She looked tired. Was her back okay? Damn, she hadn’t bothered to ask. None of this was Jac’s fault.

  “We vacationed in Hawaii for the first time when the girls were teenagers,” Susan said. “We had no idea we’d fall in love with the place or with scuba diving. You never know when something’s going to jump out and grab your heart.”

  “Um, no, you don’t,” Liz said when Susan looked right at her.