Ann moved her hand to Bree’s thigh. “How absurd. You know I’m right. I don’t even have to explain why.”
The words hung in the cold air between them. Bree wanted to reach out and grab them, pull them inside herself and let them warm the freezing places she’d protected for so long. Could she?
Ann stroked her leg. “Your parents have always taken pride in you. You’ve broadened their world.”
Could this possibly be true? Ann wasn’t exactly a reliable source.
Ann didn’t pull away. “Life happens. And death happens.”
That made sense.
“We don’t have a choice in the event itself.” Ann slowly pulled Bree’s blanket from one side of her and covered herself with it too. “We can only choose how we respond to it.”
Bree relaxed against Ann’s warm body, puzzled. Ann had always been shallow and self-centered. But she’d evidently changed…or hidden this side of herself.
“You may be right.” Their combined body heat relaxed her more fully.
Ann laughed. “You bet. I’m not always the airhead everybody considers me.” She took Bree’s hand and gazed into her eyes. “That’s just an act. And you know what?”
“What?”
“Carl’s finally made me realize it’s okay to be normal.”
Carl? Bree struggled not to jerk her hand away. “Normal. What do you mean?”
“You know.” Ann pulled away a little fraction of an inch. “I can like guys, want to get married and live happily ever after, want a nice house and yard, enjoy shopping and buying pretty things.” Her words came out in a rush. Now she appeared defiant. “For me, that’s normal. Around him, I can even give up my dumb-blonde act.”
Bree felt like Ann had just punched her in the gut. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Nope. You always impressed me so much, I thought something was wrong with me because I didn’t feel about you the way you felt about me.”
Bree almost doubled over. Chilled again, she wanted to pull the blanket away from Ann, cover only herself with it. “That’s insane.”
“Yes. Exactly my sentiments.”
Bree wished she could climb inside Ann’s head so she could understand. “Let me get this right. You always thought you were weird because you didn’t love girls, and I thought I was abnormal because I did.”
Ann looked relieved that Bree seemed to understand. “That about sums it up.”
Something loosened inside Bree, as if a hawk had been released from a cage Bree had carried around inside herself forever. “Quite a couple, weren’t we? No wonder we never made a go of it.” The hawk seemed to circle the room, testing its wings after being cramped in a small, tight space for so long.
“Yeah. We’d have probably made each other more miserable together than we would have staying apart like we’ve done.”
Gradually, as they huddled together under the blanket, for the first time since Brett died, Bree felt free. She could choose her life, be exactly who she wanted to be without worrying what others thought about her. She had a few good years left, maybe many more than a few, and suddenly she didn’t want to waste any more of them mourning the past and what might have been.
She and Ann talked until they both began to yawn. “This is Friday night, isn’t it?” Ann asked.
“Sure is. Think we ought to drive out to your house so I can spend the night with you, like we used to?”
Ann laughed. “Forget it. That’s too far. If you have an extra toothbrush and T-shirt, I’ll stay here. It’s about time to climb out of our old rut.”
“Suits me. But you better sleep in the guest bedroom. I snore, and you probably do too. Okay with you?”
“Sure is. Getting a good night’s sleep can outweigh getting off,” Ann said. “Though you never heard me say that. It’d ruin my reputation.”
“I agree, though it’d ruin mine too. I just need a hug at this point.”
“I can do that.”
“Thanks for understanding, Ann.”
“Anytime, Bree. Anytime.”
Bree wrapped her arms around Ann and felt only the comfort of familiarity, like slipping on a pair of worn jeans. She couldn’t wait to tell Linda about her change of heart. Or rather the sensation of discovering she actually had a heart.
*
Linda gripped the steering wheel as she sped home from Tyler. Though it was almost ten o’clock, she swung by Sandy’s dome home and spotted a light on in her bedroom. Good, she was awake.
Linda stood at her door, her breath turning to fog as she shivered. A cold front had recently blasted their summerlike weather into winter with hardly a bow to the temperate climate autumn was supposed to supply. She pushed the doorbell again.
Dogs barked, and then a light blinked on overhead. “Who the hell is it?” Sandy called.
“It’s Linda. Who do you think it is? Or do women usually beat on your door in the middle of the night? Open up. I’m freezing.”
Linda had to laugh when she saw Sandy holding a shotgun in one hand and trying to keep Zoe and Cowboy back with the other. She wore a heavy purple robe over red flannel sweats.
“What in the world are you doing out so late?” Sandy laid down the gun and tried to hush the dogs, who kept jumping around like they hadn’t seen Linda in years.
“It’s a long story. Can I stay, or would you rather I come back tomorrow?”
“Of course you can stay. Come on in the bedroom. It’s the only warm room in the place. My central heat’s on the blink, and I let the living-room fire die down a couple of hours ago and went to bed to read.” She led Linda to the bedroom and pointed to the bed. “Take off your coat and shoes and climb in. Zoe and Cowboy won’t mind you lying in their place. How about a cup of decaf tea to take the chill off?”
Linda snuggled into the cozy spot Zoe and Cowboy had left. “I’d love one, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“Are you kidding? Be right back. But don’t go to sleep. I want to know what the heck you’ve been up to.”
Snuggled in next to Sandy, comforted by the steaming mug, Linda didn’t feel quite as angry as she had earlier.
Sandy lay down on her side and stared at her with a grin. “So, what’s going on?”
Linda described her evening in detail, including the food and the atmosphere.
“Well. I’ve never even eaten at Bernard’s, so right off the bat, I’m jealous. Your meal sounds great.”
“It was. But that’s not what upset me.” Linda felt a little silly now. Some people would put up with just about anything to be treated to dinner there.
“I understand. It sounds like your date tried to treat you like a piece of the filet you two ate.”
Linda nodded. “Exactly. And I let her. That’s what makes me the most angry.”
“Yes. I’d probably have told her off and made a big scene, then regretted it. Granted, you took the path of least resistance, but I bet you made your point by leaving as soon as you gracefully could. Of course, some people never read between the lines.”
“She’s an intelligent woman, so I imagine she got my message.” Linda took a sip of tea. “Maybe she came on so strong because she was nervous and wanted to impress me with her knowledge of the menu there.”
“And maybe you’re being too nice. Women can be jerks just like men can. You probably read her correctly and ended what could have become an unpleasant situation in the easiest way for both of you. No harm, no foul. If she asks you out again, you can just turn her down a couple of times. Even the most inflated egos deflate eventually.”
Linda stared into her mug. “Why do you think I’m so drawn to dominant women?”
“Well, I never hung up my shingle, but I did take a lot of psych courses while I lived in California.” Sandy rested her head on her hand, supported by a bent elbow, and gazed at her with mock seriousness.
Linda assumed her most innocent expression. “So, Dr. Porter. What’s your learned opinion?”
“Something to do with your da
d, I’m sure.”
“An Electra complex maybe? I wanted to kill my mother and marry my father?”
“Not exactly. Actually, I’d say you have a bad case of sibling rivalry.”
“Sibling rivalry? You mean with Ann? For my dad’s attention?”
“That’s what I mean. And for his love.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Oh, a thousand little clues. I’m not just another pretty face, you know. I watch people. And based on what I’ve seen, you never stood a chance with those two.”
Linda’s heart dropped like a stone into a creek. No one had ever been this honest with her. When she recovered enough to speak, she said, “What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I just said. At least that’s my theory.”
“Spit it out then. Don’t hold back on my account.”
“No. I’ve wanted to mention this for a long time, but now I think you’re finally ready to hear it.”
Linda finished her tea and rolled over to set the mug on a side table. Besides, she didn’t want Sandy to see the moisture glazing her sight. She considered telling Sandy about her real father, but for some reason, she wasn’t ready to yet.
Sandy’s callused hand gently rolled her over again, so they lay facing each other. “None of this is your fault. It’s just the way things are. For what it’s worth, I think your dad always favored Ann because she reminded him so much of his first wife. They looked almost identical.”
“You know, I never even saw a picture of her, so that never occurred to me. Silly, eh? I should have thought of that.”
“You were a baby, a little girl, a teenager. You just knew, or felt, that your dad smiled a little wider when Ann told him a story, laughed a little louder when she did something cute, and expressed his appreciation for the Christmas presents she gave him a little more enthusiastically. Right?”
Linda closed her lids, and the moisture turned into drops crowding the corners of her eyes. She took a gigantic breath and blew it out. “Yeah. You’re right. I just knew all those things hurt and figured if I tried a little harder, he’d treat me like he did her.”
Sandy nodded, then wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. “I know. I found it hard to watch you struggle, but I figured you’d eventually outgrow it.”
Linda’s laugh felt like a gunshot. “Yeah. Well, news flash. I’m sixty-five. How much longer do you think it’ll take?”
“I’d say you’re almost there. At least you can talk about it. You know his feelings had nothing to do with you, don’t you? He obviously let his memories of his first wife dominate his life. You couldn’t have done anything to change that fact. He had to be the one to let go of the past and learn to live in the present. His loss.”
“My loss too.” Linda snuggled into Sandy’s strong arms. “At least I had Mom. And you. Thanks for helping me see things a little clearer, Sandy.”
“That’s Dr. Porter to you.” Sandy kissed the top of Linda’s head and squeezed her. “Now the dogs have a question.”
Linda inhaled with contentment. “What’s that?”
“Are you planning to stay overnight, or do they get their place back?”
Linda startled from Sandy’s arms. “Gosh. I almost forgot. Riley’s spending the weekend with me, and I have to pick her up first thing in the morning. I better get home.” She jumped out of bed.
“You obviously weren’t planning to accept the lawyer’s invitation to sleep with her, even if she’d had a chance to extend one.”
Linda shook her head. “No. I guess not.” She grinned. “Besides, if I had, I’d have missed this little talk with you, and I wouldn’t have done that for anything.” She pulled on her coat and waved. “Don’t get up. I’ll let myself out. Thanks a million, for everything.”
As Linda drove down the deserted country road toward town, she glanced up at the moon. It looked so stark and cold, but the sun still warmed and lit part of it. As she neared her house, she turned down the street where Bree lived, then slowed.
Who’d parked in the driveway at almost eleven? God. No. Don’t let it be…Ann. And no lights on in the house. What on earth?
Linda’s heart abruptly felt as cold and cratered as the waxing moon that rode across the sky. If only it were the dark of the moon so she couldn’t see how much her hands trembled as she finally drove home. Her dad had always preferred Ann, and obviously Bree did too.
Chapter Twenty-one
Bree woke up early, happier than she’d been in years. The earth seemed to have shifted back onto its axis after wobbling for decades.
She peeked into the guest bedroom to make sure she hadn’t dreamed what had happened last night, but no. Tousled blond hair covered one of the pillows, so Bree tiptoed downstairs and began to prepare breakfast.
As she laid four strips of bacon in a skillet, she silently thanked Linda for teaching her such a basic skill. Linda! How was she doing? Bree had been so caught up in her own affairs she’d completely forgotten about how Linda might be reacting to the news about her father. She picked up the phone. Linda seemed like the type who’d get up early, even on Saturday.
“Uh, hello.”
The groggy voice told her she’d misjudged. “Sorry to wake you. I just wanted to touch base and see how you’re doing. You’ll never believe what happened—”
“For heaven’s sake, Bree. It’s six o’clock.”
Bree had never heard Linda use such a sharp tone. “Sorry. I’ll talk to you later. We haven’t seen each other in several—”
“Got to go. ’Bye.”
Bree glanced at the phone as she placed it back in its charger. “What on earth?” she muttered to herself. Linda must have had a rough night. She shouldn’t have called her so early.
“Bree. Where are you?” Ann called from upstairs.
“Down here in the kitchen. Ready for some coffee?”
Ann wandered in, still wearing Bree’s T-shirt, her hair uncombed, her feet bare.
“I sure am.” She stretched and yawned. “Wow. I haven’t slept so well in years. Do I smell bacon frying?”
Bree clicked her Keurig on.
“Yep. Linda taught me how.” She beamed, feeling like a gourmet chef who’d just prepared a soufflé. “She said the secret was to keep the heat low and cook the bacon slowly. And I’ve got biscuits baking.”
Ann inspected the K-Cups in Bree’s carousel and chose a Dark Magic one.
Bree grinned. “Ah. Extra bold. I should have known. Suits you to a T. Here’s a cup.”
Being able to tease Ann as if they were friends felt so good. She stopped. They were friends. Who would have thought, after all this time, such a miracle could have happened? Her feelings for Ann, as murky as a sewer for fifty years, had suddenly transformed into a clear mountain stream sparkling in the sunlight.
She walked over to the stove and turned the bacon strips as Ann fixed her coffee. The smell of bacon and coffee combined into a pleasant duet, accompanied by the baking biscuits. Bree had dreamed of such a scene forever, though she’d pictured a long night of lovemaking beforehand. But being friends was almost as good, if not better. She and Ann had obviously been destined to follow different paths, and Bree had wasted fifty years denying reality. Just as she had denied Brett’s death in a senseless accident.
Her chest suddenly cramped.
Ann looked up from her coffee. “Hey. You okay?”
She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Then another one.
Ann put her mug on the white tile counter and wrapped an arm around her. “It’s fine. You’re fine.”
Bree’s legs threatened to give way, but she managed to reach the nearby square breakfast table before she sank into a chair. Putting her head down onto her crossed arms, she sobbed.
Ann rubbed her back. “Just let it all out, Bree. Cry as much as you need to.”
Brett was actually dead, and she needed to let him go. She was fine. Ann had said so. And just as she thought her tears would end, another round of grie
f hit her. Finally, she smelled the acrid odor of burning bacon and hiccupped to a stop.
She jerked her head up. “Ann. The bacon.” By now it was smoking, so they dashed around raising windows and fanning the smoke outside before it triggered the smoke detector.
“Shit,” Bree exclaimed. She exhaled loudly. “Now I’ll have to start all over.”
“That’s right.” Ann gave her a fierce hug. “And that’s a good thing. We all need to start over occasionally. Let’s just hope the future’s better than the past.”
Bree nodded, and relief spread through her like the warm ribbon-cane syrup she planned to heat to sweeten her biscuits with.
*
Linda felt as cold, cloudy, and gray as the late-November day promised to be. Winter hadn’t even officially begun, but she wanted to just stay in bed until March. Well, maybe February. When it came, she’d need to go outside and trim the roses to jump-start their inevitable cycle of pushing out new branches, producing leaves and buds, and finally bearing deep-red roses.
She rehashed the disasters of the last twenty-four hours. Last night she’d innocently expected a wonderful dinner and a pleasant conversation with Tonda, who’d flattered and intrigued her for several months now. After that date fell flat, Linda had naively checked on Bree, who’d bewitched her for almost as long as she could remember. But no, her sister Ann—make that her half sister—no, her stepsister had apparently recaptured Bree’s heart.
Only the interlude last night with Sandy, indisputably her aunt, had temporarily lifted the chill that now filled every pore of her body. She pulled the covers up to her nose, glad it got light so much later now than it did in the summer.
Bree had called, sounding far too radiant, and Linda had rebuffed her.
Linda’s birth dad hadn’t wanted her, and her adopted dad had preferred Ann, his real daughter, as did Bree. Linda pulled the covers over her eyes and went back to sleep, hoping she didn’t dream anything. It would more than likely be horrible.
*
“What’s wrong, Granny?”
Autumn Spring Page 21
