by JM Dragon
“She said it worked. Maybe I should try it out and see if this is something I can do.” Several minutes later, dragging a hand through her hair for the fifth time, she gave up.
“How the hell does it ignite?” Her instinct was to kick the brute, but instead she turned away and looked at the clock they’d placed on the kitchen table. An ornate wall clock still resided on the wall. Kris had painstakingly cleaned it, but it hadn’t worked. No simply changing batteries for that monster. It was made of metal with the signs of the zodiac decorating the border. In itself, it was nothing particularly exciting, but the signs were very intricate. Kris loved it, as she seemed to do most things here.
“Damn, I wish I could do something that would help her stay. She deserves this.”
The door opened, and the person on her mind slipped through it.
“Hey, Claire, that looks great. I think your grandmother is going to be delighted by the change in this place. I got Stanley Masters, the owner of Chartres Painting Company, to agree to paint the top part of the exterior early next week and at a great price.” Kris was grinning widely as she placed a small box on the kitchen table.
“All that sounds good, but what’s in the box?”
Kris laughed. “The mystery gets you every time. I must remember that.”
Claire smiled. Yeah, you must. Damn, what am I saying? In ten days, we will go our separate ways. “Predictable, right?”
“Never.” Kris smiled and opened the box. “I couldn’t come back without your favorite, could I?”
“I love you and it’s just what I needed. That painting really took it out of me.” Claire didn’t realize what she’d said until she saw Kris’s troubled expression. “Well, I know you don’t take me loving anyone seriously, right? You read the tabloids.”
“Why?”
Claire frowned as she neared the prize of the wonderful dessert in front of her. “Why what? I just told you.”
Kris moved to within inches of her and shook her head. “I’m so sorry. If only you said….” Tears trailed down her cheeks.
Claire stared at her in confusion. What the hell is going on? “Said what?”
Kris scrunched up her face and turned away.
Claire caught her arm and they faced each other. “What?”
“I’m so sorry, Claire, I didn’t realize this would hurt you. Can you forgive me?”
Claire didn’t know what was going on. “You never hurt me, Kris. How could you? You are my friend…right?”
“I need some space.” Kris rushed out of the cottage.
Standing in the empty room awash with the smell of fresh paint and covered furniture, Claire didn’t know what just happened. Whatever it was, Kris was upset. Frowning, she followed in the direction Kris had gone or at least she hoped she had. Her friend Buddy hadn’t been any help, for he’d just sidled up to his new girl and ignored her request for assistance.
The path to the house maybe, or, Yeah, the beach. She suspected Kris would go there. Less chance anyone would see her if she were upset.
The path down to the beach was relatively steep but safe enough she’d traversed it several times in the last three weeks. Damn, I feel like I’ve been here for years. She passed a cursory hand through her hair and felt a couple of areas where paint had congealed.
Then she saw Kris standing at the edge of the incoming tide. She must run fast to have gotten here already. Negotiating a couple of branches that had twisted together on the shore, she walked slowly up to Kris, whose body appeared stiff as she stared out to sea. A few moments later, Claire stood next to her and looked out to the horizon. They remained that way for a couple of minutes.
“You know, this must be one of the most peaceful pastimes in the world. Don’t you think?”
Kris sniffled and nodded, her arms folded tightly across her chest.
“Have you ever thrown pebbles into the sea? I think it’s called skimming? I haven’t done it for years. In fact, I can say it’s about the only time my father spent with me when I was a kid. He must have liked to do it or we wouldn’t have done it. My father was all about him.” The instant memory gave Claire a warm glow, even if it was about her father.
Kris half turned and gave her a weak smile, her face red and blotchy from tears. “My dad too, when I was a kid.”
“Yeah.” Claire grinned. “We have something else in common. Want to try to beat me? I was pretty darn good at it back then. At least I think I was.” She bent and selected a couple of inch-long, gray stones that populated this area of the beach, then held one out for Kris.
This time, Kris gave her a full-on smile and took the stone. “Thank you.”
“Do we toss a coin for who goes first? For the record I don’t have any coinage, but we can improvise.” Claire looked around for something suitable. A hand on her injured arm had her glance at it. The touch was so gentle and it made her feel wonderful. I’ve taken in too many paint fumes.
“I’ll let you go first. I have to say my success rate wasn’t exactly Olympic medal proportions.”
Claire laughed. “I never realized they had added this as an event. Hell, I might have been a champion.” She winked and tossed the stone into the air and caught it. “Okay, let’s see if I still have the magic.”
She flicked the stone, and it traveled in the air for ten feet, then simply plopped into the sea. “Oh come on!” Claire held out her hands.
Kris chuckled. “Have you been taking lessons from me? That happens to me every time.”
Claire’s eyes crinkled as she grinned. “Right, Olympic Girl, your turn.”
Kris looked at the flat stone in her palm, then rolled it over twice and suddenly threw it. It skimmed the water for all of a foot, and then disappeared. “Yeah,” she shrieked, her grin almost bursting her face apart.
Claire watched the happiness erupt, and her heart raced at the reaction. How could something so simple change the whole demeanor of a person? And it had, big-time.
“Sorry, I overreacted.”
Claire winked. “Guess we both are apt to do that, then. I’m sorry for last night. I was a jerk.” She picked up another couple of stones and handed one to Kris. “Will you tell me what upset you, please?”
Kris sighed heavily and then nodded. “On one condition. You do the same about last night.”
Claire stroked her chin contemplating the request. “Sure.”
Kris threw her stone, and it sank. “I forget that you are injured, Claire, and perhaps I haven’t taken that into account. Physically I’ve made too many demands on you.” She stepped back from the shore as the water almost lapped her shoes.
Claire gripped her stone hard, then threw it. It skimmed the crest of several waves before it disappeared.
“Wow, your dad must have been proud.”
Claire frowned. “Not really. He always had to win.” She turned to Kris and gazed at her. “I’ve seen five different shrinks since the accident, not to mention my parents’ amateur attempts. I don’t take it well—strangers telling me what’s wrong with me.”
Kris stiffened. “Your parents aren’t strangers. I’m sorry I offended you. I didn’t mean to.” Kris took her hand.
Claire looked down at their hands and squeezed gently. “Oh yes they are. Don’t you think the same about yours? How long is it since you’ve seen them?” The hand in hers stiffened, but she held on.
“Six years. I went to see them for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary.”
“I hate parties. I had to go to so many it was a ritual. Celebrations for winning big contracts always took precedents over birthdays and anniversaries as far as my parents were concerned. They took second and even third place in my father’s eyes to a golf tournament. Sorry, how did it go?”
Kris’s lips pulled into a tight line. Right now, Claire really hated Kris’s parents even more than she did her own, and that was a hard feat to accomplish.
“They thanked me for the gift. Told me the party was for old friends and it wouldn’t suit me. I sti
ll can’t get over that. How can you do that to someone you love? Unless they never loved you.”
Claire dragged Kris into her arms and hugged her close. “They loved you, Kris. They did, and probably still do. Sometimes our sexuality doesn’t always make sense to people. We keep trying, and look at the strides we’ve made. We can get married—well, in lots of countries and here in the States. Maybe by today they have educated themselves better.” Claire leaned her chin against the top of Kris’s head and felt a shudder go through Kris.
Kris pulled away from the embrace and looked into her eyes. “Thank you.”
Claire smiled slowly. “Anytime. For the record, you are no stranger to me. You can say what you want, and I’ll probably listen.”
Her eyes captured Kris’s, and Kris moved closer and captured her lips in a kiss.
She kissed me.
Oh no, what have I done?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Shirley sang out of tune to the Taylor Swift song “Shake It Off,” her body moving with the rhythm as she flipped a cheese omelet.
“Well, Shirley, I never suspected you were a Taylor fan.” Claire laughed as she took her seat at the kitchen table.
Shirley swung around with a faint smile. “I listen to the radio. I’m not dead yet.” She glanced at the finished omelet. “We are having omelets with a side of bacon and homemade bread tonight. I’m sorry it’s not sophisticated, but the range has acted up recently. I’m waiting for the company to send someone out.”
“No problem with me. You spoil me with the dishes you’ve prepared since I’ve been here. I’m going to have to go to the gym when I get back to the city.”
“Oh don’t be silly. You could always eat a horse and never put an inch of fat on as a girl.” Shirley put the completed dish onto a warming plate. “Kris is late. Was there a problem at the cottage?”
“Not that I know of.”
Claire’s words had an edge, and Shirley glanced at Claire who looked…embarrassed. “Hmm….”
The door opened and Kris entered. She gave Shirley a tight smile and avoided looking at Claire. Interesting.
“Oh, I thought you’d decided to skip dinner. It’s an omelet. Will you help me with the plates?”
“Of course.” Kris walked over, took the first plate, and placed it on the table.
“Smells great,” Claire said. Kris froze and then seconds later carried on with her tasks.
Eventually they all sat at the table.
“Where is your omelet?”
“Claire, have you forgotten I’m allergic to eggs?” Shirley took a hunk of fresh bread and smothered it in butter.
“So why are we having omelets?” Claire asked.
Shirley looked at Kris, who was staring at a blank wall. Something has happened.
“Thank you, Shirley. I love omelets, especially the cheese ones.”
“You are welcome, Kris. You both make it easy for me to cook for you. Any plans for the rest of the evening?”
“No,” they replied in unison.
They both looked at each other before turning away just as suddenly. Kris’s cheeks were stained red. “Enjoy the night. I’m going to meet my nephew and his wife tonight, so I’m afraid it’s just the two of you. I’d recommend watching An Affair to Remember, but it’s up to you.”
Claire shuffled her omelet around the plate and sighed.
Kris picked up her water and drank it as if she were in a desert.
“It’s really very good, you know. In color, not a black-and-white oldie. I have to admit Cary Grant was very handsome and Deborah Kerr an understated beauty.” Shirley popped a forkful of bacon in her mouth. “Of course there is always Pride and Prejudice. My, that’s a wonderful tale. I have the original with Greer Garson.” Shirley laughed when the two groaned. “However, I also have the TV series. It’s only six episodes, and you can watch it over two nights, I suspect. Colin Firth was such a handsome Mr. Darcy, and that fountain scene…my, he sent my temperature soaring.”
Claire cleared her throat. “Thanks, but I think I’ll have an early night. We worked hard today.”
“Yes, yes, we did. That’s a good idea,” Kris jumped in enthusiastically.
Shirley glanced from one to the other and shook her head. “Hmm. Oh well, if you change your minds, they would be my recommendations.”
The meal was relatively silent, and Shirley eventually gave up trying to make small talk. After the dishes were disposed of, Claire wished them both a good night and left the kitchen rapidly.
Shirley turned to Kris. “Anything going on that I might need to know about? You were both quiet at dinner.”
Kris, appearing focused on the kitchen door, didn’t reply.
“I don’t think she’s coming back.” Shirley wiped her hands and then touched Kris’s shoulder. “Is there anything I can help you with? I’m a good listener.”
Kris frowned and shook her head slowly. “No, it’s something we need to work out, and we will. We are friends. Friends always work things out,” she muttered. Then with a shrug, she wished Shirley good night and said she hoped she enjoyed her evening.
“Yes they do, my dear. Sleep well.”
Kris tentatively smiled and then left the room.
Shirley stood for a moment, musing over what could have happened and then decided that was fruitless. She would find out when the right time was for her to do so…if there ever was one.
†
Claire rummaged in the DVD cabinet and then held aloft what she was looking for. “Yes.” Moving away from the furniture, she opened up the case, selected DVD one, and slipped it into the player.
Then she scrambled up and settled on the sofa, her legs stretched out. Pressing Play on the remote, she heard the snick of the door opening and looked across the room. Kris stood in the doorway.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were here.”
Claire struggled to sit upright. “No, no, it’s fine. Look, did you want the TV or…?” She didn’t know what else to say.
Kris seemed unsure how to answer as she shuffled from one foot to the other.
“Or I was about to watch a movie if you want to join me?” Claire pressed the Pause button. “So far only the trailer for the next blockbuster is playing.”
“I don’t really want to disturb you.” Kris entered the room and the door gently swung shut behind her.
Claire bit her lip, wanting to laugh or at least smile. Kris’s action was contradictory to the words. “It’s not an oldie, if you wondered.”
Kris gave a small smile. “Thank goodness, although Jane Eyre was a good movie. Wasn’t it?”
“Yes, surprised me, really. I guess you decided like I did that it was too early to retire.”
“Yep, my brain refuses to stop working, so I thought maybe an hour or so of TV or a movie would help.” Kris walked toward the chair she always used and sat down.
The nervousness that had been part of Claire’s reason for taking refuge in the media room dissipated. “Me too.”
“Well, if you don’t mind my company, then yes, I’d like to watch a movie.”
Claire grinned. “I can’t think of any better company. Though you might regret it when you know what I’ve chosen.”
Kris chuckled, settled back in the chair, and pressed the lever for the recline feature. “Never, what is it?”
“Toy Story, the first one.” Claire shrugged.
“Oh, Claire, I love that movie. I was ten when it came out. I saw it a zillion times.”
Claire smiled and pressed Play, then selected the movie from the menu. “This was the first movie I ever bought with money I actually earned. Grams gave me enough to buy the DVD if I cleaned out the garage. Weird the silly things your memory dredges up, especially mine.”
“Guess you must have done a good job. Oh, and you have crackers.” Kris’s eyes settled on the plate of cheese crackers. “Did you know I’d be coming?” The laughter that followed the statement warmed Claire’s heart.
�
��No, but I always live in hope.” She spoke softly and surprised herself when she caught Kris’s tender expression. It is going to work out, whatever that might be. We are friends, and friends work things out.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Anna Tremont stirred her coffee for several seconds. It was her favorite Cubano, and the barista here made a great one. She’d frequented the café for the better part of fifteen years and usually at the same time most days of the working week. For her, when a hot property needed sorting out it could be seven days a week.
Her thoughts were with Claire and her time away from home. What had possessed her mother to send Claire to Seasons of all places? Claire had vowed never to return there as a teenager. Yet she had submitted without any emotion. Perhaps fourteen years had been enough for Claire to forget the trauma at the time, or the accident that had made her forget the event. The doctors had said some of her memories were lost and they would only know how many over time.
She glanced around. It was nine o’clock on a Monday night and the weather had turned nasty. Rain slashed the glass of the small picture window looking out onto the street, and the vast majority of the customers had left.
Carl was at his club. When wasn’t he? She sighed heavily and sipped the coffee that always settled her emotions. Tonight her melancholy wasn’t about her husband, it was about their only child. Claire might not be perfect, but she was theirs, and no matter how Carl wanted at times to forget that fact, it would never change.
The accident should have brought them closer. It hadn’t, and they had drifted even further apart, if that were possible. Coming so close to losing a child should have refocused them on being a family again. But as soon as Carl had seen the police report, he had blamed Claire and said it was her own fault and she had to man up to it.
Damn, he didn’t even get the gender right! Carl is such an ass. If it weren’t for the debts they owed across the state, divorce would have been inevitable now. Except together they were financially stronger, or at least able through the help of her mother, to keep afloat and out of bankruptcy court. Mother would never forgive her taking that path.
