Jordan suspected his wife would say he had one too many. She turned to Tatum. “Larry’s scheduled to clock out in a few minutes. Are you going to be okay by yourself?”
“Don’t worry about her,” Bud said. “She’s used to holding down the fort. Aren’t you, Tatum?”
“That’s me. The last line of defense.”
“See? I told you. Let’s go.”
He tried to steer Jordan toward the door, but she refused to be herded.
“I almost forgot. What kind of beer should I bring tomorrow night?”
“Tomorrow night?” Tatum asked.
“We’re still on for dinner, aren’t we?”
Tatum frowned. Jordan could practically read her mind. For one thing, they weren’t allowed to drink on the job. For another, they were both scheduled to be off tomorrow. Jordan hoped Tatum could guess what she was getting at without forcing her to spell it out for her in front of Bud.
“I’ll supply the beer if you man the grill,” Jordan said.
“How does eight o’clock sound?”
“Why don’t we make it six? We can watch a movie while we wait for the beer to chill. Now tell me. What kind of beer would you like?”
“I don’t care as long as it’s wet.”
“I think I can manage that. See you at six?”
Tatum grinned as she grabbed a Stetson to complete her J.R. Ewing outfit. “It’s a date.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Gran, will you drop me off at work before you head over to Natalie’s?”
“Of course, honey. I’d be happy to.”
It was Natalie’s turn to make dinner. Meredith checked her makeup in the bathroom mirror before she prepared to go out. Jordan watched her from the open doorway.
“So have you kissed her yet?”
Meredith was so surprised by the question she nearly stabbed herself in the eye with her eyelash curler. “No.”
“What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation? The perfect moment? Neither’s going to take place without a little help.”
When it happened, Meredith wanted it to feel natural. Unhurried. She didn’t want to overthink it. But now that Jordan had brought it up, kissing Natalie was all she could think about. She wanted to put their last kiss behind them. Erase the stigma and start fresh.
“I should just do it. Plant one on her as soon as she answers the door tonight. But where’s the romance in that?”
She laughed to herself. At herself. Who would have thought she’d be thinking about romance at her age?
Jordan ruffled Meredith’s hair. “There may be snow on the roof, but there’s still fire in the furnace.”
And Meredith’s fire was getting hotter every day. She hadn’t realized dying embers could hold so much heat.
“If you want some action tonight,” Jordan said, “you should undo a few more buttons on your blouse and hike up your skirt at least two more inches. Just my suggestion, but you don’t have to listen to me.”
“I’m seventy, honey, not seventeen.”
But as soon as Jordan’s back was turned, Meredith followed her suggestions to the letter. Jordan broke into a grin as soon as she saw her.
“Looking good, Gran. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“I’m afraid you’re a good thirty or forty years too late for that.” As she locked the front door, Meredith noticed Frances and Marion Turtledove sitting on their front porch having their nightly bourbons and branch. “Evening, you two. How goes it?”
Marion raised his drink in greeting. “Evening, Meredith.”
Frances leaned forward in her rocking chair. “Going somewhere?”
“I thought I might.” Meredith answered the question without giving away too much. She had never sought to publicize her private life, and she wasn’t about to start now, no matter how much she wanted to crow about how happy she was. For the past week, her head had been in the clouds and her feet barely touched the ground.
“Nice night for it, whatever you have in mind,” Marion said. “Enjoy yourself.”
“I intend to.” Before she could make it to her car, Natalie showed up in hers. “I thought I was meeting you at your place,” she said as Natalie joined her and Jordan in the yard.
“I have something better in mind.”
“Such as?”
“I thought we could have a picnic on the beach and watch the sun set. How does that sound?”
“Like I need to change my shoes.”
Meredith pointed to her loafer-clad feet. The shoes’ leather was so bright it was nearly as blinding as the copper pennies gleaming in the eyelets.
“Yeah, that might be a good idea,” Natalie said.
“Here, honey, you take the car.”
Meredith gave Jordan the car keys, dashed inside the house, and grabbed a pair of sandals. When she got back outside, Jordan had driven away, but Natalie was waiting for her on the porch.
“Ready to go?” Natalie reached for Meredith’s free hand.
“I think we have an audience.” Meredith shied away.
Natalie followed her line of sight. Marion and Frances were watching them intently.
“In that case, why don’t we give them a show?”
Natalie pulled Meredith into her arms and kissed her. Meredith kissed her back. Kissed her without thinking. Kissed her without remorse. Kissed her without regret. Kissed her without regard for who might be watching.
“Oh, my,” she said breathlessly after Natalie let her go. “That was certainly worth the wait. You know what would be even better than a picnic on the beach?”
“No. What?”
“A picnic on the living room floor. We might miss the sunset, but perhaps we could watch the sun rise. How does that sound?”
“Like I need to shut off my truck.”
The Bronco’s engine was idling, but Meredith’s was starting to rev. She felt herself grow wet as she watched desire bloom in Natalie’s eyes. Natalie practically ran up the walkway. She switched off the Bronco, grabbed a picnic basket out of the backseat, and rejoined Meredith on the porch.
“Shall we?” Meredith asked.
She offered her hand, inviting Natalie inside. Natalie eagerly heeded her call. Meredith hadn’t planned on this. She hadn’t planned on any of it. But what was happening was so much better than anything she might have come up with herself.
She heard a loud smack when Frances slapped Marion on his arm. “Why can’t you be spontaneous like that?”
“Give me a reason to and I might,” Marion said dryly.
Meredith closed the door, shutting out the world and everyone in it. No one else mattered. Nothing else mattered. Nothing except the woman with her and the act of love they were about to perform.
Natalie placed the wicker basket on the coffee table and turned to face her. Meredith regarded the woman who had piqued her interest from the moment they boarded a transport plane bound for Vietnam and who now commanded her full attention.
“Are you nervous?” Natalie asked.
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.”
Natalie cupped Meredith’s face in her hands. “Relax. I don’t bite.”
“No?” Meredith placed her hands over Natalie’s. “Because I’m sure I read on page thirty-seven of the official lesbian how-to manual that you’re supposed to.”
“You must own the revised version of the manual. Page thirty-seven of my copy says I’m supposed to do this.”
She drew her thumb across Meredith’s lips, eliciting a gasp. Then she pulled Meredith into her arms and began to hum the Patsy Cline song they had danced to so long ago.
Meredith’s eyes misted with tears.
“What’s wrong?” Natalie asked, holding her at arm’s length.
Meredith shook her head to assure Natalie that everything was all right. “I’ve never been able to listen to that song without thinking of you. In my heart, it’s always been our song.”
“And in my heart, you’ve always belonged to me.”
“Care t
o make it official?”
Natalie placed her fingers under Meredith’s chin and tilted her face upward so she could kiss her forehead, her cheeks, and her lips.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Chapter Seventeen
“These are mine. You’ll have to fend for yourself.” Jordan held up a six-pack of beer. Each slot in the cardboard container was filled with a different brand, half of them domestic and the other half imported. “I need to drink as much as I possibly can today because I think Grandma Meredith had sex last night.”
Tatum backed away from the door. “That is so not what I was expecting to hear you say when you rang the bell.”
Jordan went inside and closed the door behind her. “I’m sorry,” she said, dropping a bag of DVDs on the coffee table. “Would you like me to try again?”
“Please.”
Tatum wheeled to the kitchen to check on the steak and vegetables that were marinating in a plastic container on the counter.
“Okay. Take two.” Jordan placed the six-pack on the kitchen counter, twisted the cap off one of the bottles, and took a long swallow. Sweat dampened the fabric of her Wonder Woman T-shirt as if she’d run the two miles from her place instead of driving. Lincoln leaned against her legs, waiting for her to say hello. She reached down and gave him a pat but addressed her comment to Tatum. “I think your aunt deflowered my grandmother.”
“Yeah, that’s way better.” Tatum selected a beer from the container, deposited the rest in the refrigerator, and placed several bamboo skewers in a bowl of water to soak. “How did you come by your information?”
“Let’s just say I witnessed the afterglow.”
“Meaning?”
“When I got home after my shift, Natalie and Grandma Meredith were eating potato salad and fried chicken. For breakfast.”
“People have breakfast for dinner all the time. Maybe Meredith and Aunt Natalie decided to flip the script.”
Jordan pursed her lips. “Gran was wearing your aunt’s shirt, a great big smile, and not much else.”
Her bottle of beer tucked between her thighs, Tatum headed to the living room. “Admittedly, it’s been a while, but that definitely sounds like afterglow to me.”
“I told you so.” Jordan sat on the couch and Lincoln draped himself across her legs like the lap dog he evidently thought he was. His wagging tail thumped against the seat cushion as she scratched him between his ears.
Tatum placed her bottle of beer on a coaster, reached into the bag of DVDs, and took a look at the titles. Jordan had brought a little bit of everything. The movies ranged from a documentary to a romantic comedy to a foreign language art film to an action-heavy Hollywood blockbuster.
“How do you feel about the scene you walked in on this morning?”
“I feel skeevy thinking about Grandma Meredith getting busy with someone. She’s seventy, for God’s sake. On the other hand, I’ve never seen her look so happy.” Jordan slowly lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “If she’s happy, I’m happy.”
“Did you tell her that?”
Jordan rolled her eyes. “Uh, no. I figured she and Natalie wanted to be alone, so I went for a walk on the beach. When I got back, they were gone.”
“That’s right. It’s Saturday. Aunt Natalie had to work today.”
“And I’m sure Grandma Meredith went with her. They’ve been like a pair of newlyweds for a week now—joined at the hip and never too far from each other’s sight. If they reserve a room at the Remember When to spice things up when their relationship gets stale, you’re checking them in, not me.”
“I don’t see any chance of that happening. I think they prefer to do whatever they’re doing in the privacy of their own homes.”
“A few months ago, I might have said the same thing. I thought Grandma Meredith was a bit of a prude. Now I wouldn’t put it past her to have a sex tape on the market by the end of the year.”
“Do you practice the one-liners you come up with or do they happen naturally? Let me check the fridge. I may have some cheese to go with your whine.”
“Very funny.”
“I thought so, too.” Tatum flipped over one of the DVDs to read the synopsis on the back of the box. “I’ve been meaning to ask. How did your meeting with Bud go?”
“It was interesting.”
“How so?”
“He offered me a permanent position.”
“Really? Are you going to take it?”
“I told him I’d think about it. I have another year left of school. If I changed my major, that one year could turn into two. I don’t know if he’d be willing to wait that long.”
“What about you? Could you see yourself living here?”
“For the summer, yes. For the rest of my life? I don’t know. Berkeley has me spoiled. I like the hustle and bustle of the big city. The convenience of being able to get whatever I want at any time of the day or night. Being here is like being back in Kenosha. Everyone knows everyone and everything closes at ten o’clock. If I were to move this far south, I’d want to live in Atlanta or Miami.”
“What about Savannah? It has big-city appeal in a small-town package. It’s a college town, so there’s a young, hip vibe, but it’s one of the oldest cities in the South so there’s history on almost every corner. And hotels are popping up all over to handle the steady stream of tourists.”
“I should hire you to be my tour guide. Either that or my guidance counselor.” Jordan leaned forward to take a closer look at the DVDs. “What are you in the mood for?”
“This one looks interesting, but it’s subtitled and we might wear out the Pause button if I leave to check on something in the kitchen or on the grill.”
“What about this one? Have you seen it?”
Jordan picked up the documentary, a film about a group of quadriplegic athletes who played full-contact wheelchair rugby for the US national team. The featured jocks were a bunch of tattooed badasses who played hard on and off the court. Tatum was impaired in only two of her limbs. The guys on the video had issues with all four, but they hadn’t let that hold them back.
“I saw it when I was in rehab after my first round of surgery. The doctors and nurses thought it would inspire me. I was supposed to watch it and realize I could still party, have a good time, and live a well-rounded life even though I was in a wheelchair.”
“Did it work?”
“I wasn’t in the right head space. At the time, I didn’t want to sit through anything designed to make me feel better. I didn’t want to be inspired. I just wanted to be left alone to brood. Fortunately, the personnel treating me didn’t let me have my way. If they had, I would have missed out on a great movie and I’d be even more antisocial than I am now.”
“That’s a scary thought,” Jordan said with a smile. She put down the documentary and picked up another DVD. “What about this one?”
Tatum looked at the cover. The box contained the first season of a cable reality series revolving around four wheelchair-bound women trying to navigate the rocky road of romantic and familial relationships in image-conscious Los Angeles.
“I watched the first episode out of curiosity because I’d read somewhere that one of the women in it had a girlfriend. I watched the rest of the episodes because, even though the woman and her girlfriend broke up a few weeks into the season, the producers managed to get everything right. The frustration, the stares, the pitying looks, the sense of betrayal brought on by a body that can’t do all the things it once could. All the bullshit I have to deal with every day was right there on the screen each week. The women on TV have an air of glamour and sophistication I could never hope to achieve, but their struggles were the same as mine.” She paused. “I’m sensing a theme here.”
“Yeah, I probably couldn’t have been more obvious if I’d brought over a bagful of afterschool specials. No life lessons or very special episodes. Got it.” Jordan laughed amiably and tossed Tatum another DVD. “Is that more to your liking?”
&nbs
p; Tatum looked at the box in her hands. The movie, a romantic comedy, was a funny but touching tale of a woman who falls in love with her female florist as she’s walking down the aisle on her wedding day. Jordan had seen it so often she had the dialogue memorized, but the story sucked her in every time.
“Good choice.”
Tatum put the DVD in the player and queued up the movie. Jordan moved closer to her after she transferred from her chair to the sofa. Lincoln jumped down to make room. He circled three times and lay at Tatum’s feet.
Jordan could feel the heat from Tatum’s leg where her thigh pressed against hers. She wished Tatum had worn shorts so she could feel the sensation of skin on skin, but she figured Tatum didn’t want her to see her ravaged legs, the withered limbs crisscrossed with scars.
“This is nice.”
When the summer began, Jordan didn’t have any idea it would play out this way. Now she wondered how it would end. Would she and Tatum get even closer or would her lingering doubts keep them apart?
Tatum draped her arm across the back of the couch as the movie’s opening sequence began. Jordan curled into the crook of Tatum’s arm and rested her hand on her leg as if it belonged there. As if she belonged here.
“Can I get you another beer?” Tatum asked after the movie ended to the strains of the extremely hummable title track.
Jordan followed her into the kitchen. “No worries. I can get it myself.”
“Put the brownies in the oven while you’re at it. I thought we could have some for dessert.”
“Cool. If you have ice cream, I think I might kiss you.”
“Don’t say that too loud. I might hold you to it.”
The thought made Jordan’s stomach do a funny little flip as she tossed their empty beer bottles into the recycle bin. “What temperature should I set the oven for?” Tatum told her and handed her the batter-filled baking dish she had prepared earlier. Jordan set the dish on the counter and pressed some buttons on the control panel to let the oven preheat.
Tatum grabbed the containers she needed, balanced them on her lap, and rolled to the patio to light the grill. After the oven beeped to announce it had reached the desired temperature, Jordan put the brownies in to bake, plucked two bottles of beer out of the refrigerator, and joined her outside.
The War Within Page 26
