She paid the driver while Helen pulled herself together enough to get out of the cab. Justin bounded into the work area while Laura profusely thanked the woman in the next station for her vigilance. She found some Cotswold cheese, making Justin immediately happy. As he chewed she set him to wrapping the food tray cart in plastic wrap before the tart shells got any drier. Helen nibbled on a piece of cheese, but given the slightly numb expression on her face there was no way Laura would let her handle a knife. She didn't think she wanted to handle one herself, not for a while.
"I have some almonds." She rustled in one of the many boxes. "Oh, they're raw. Hang on." She dropped several handfuls into a small bowl, tossed them quickly with liquid smoke, rosemary and salt, then poured them across a cookie sheet and popped it under the broiler. She set the timer. "Four minutes to hot nuts."
Justin cackled. "That's what she said."
"That doesn't even make sense," Laura protested. She felt lightheaded and giddy. She should probably have something to eat too. She wasn't sure how it happened but she had a palm full of flour and somehow it ended up all over Justin.
"I can't believe you did that!" He dusted the powder off his cheek and shoulder. Then, with a maniacal laugh he returned the favor.
Laura coughed out flour. He'd been more generous than she had. She heard Helen exclaim, "Justin! Don't you dare!"
Laura got one eye open in time to see that Helen had the plain outline of her hands on her face and her hair was dusted white. Justin stopped to laugh, pointing at both of them.
Helen marched to the flour bin and pelted him twice, then aimed a handful at Laura. Laura sidestepped and most of it went in her ear. She returned fire and Helen spluttered out, "I have flour in my bra!"
They all plunked down on the mats. Laura couldn't breathe for laughing-Helen had a distinct Cruella de Vil hair streak and Justin was covered. She ran her hand over her head. Flour on sweat-it felt like she had gravy on her scalp.
"Which way is the restroom?" Helen scrambled to her feet.
"I'll show you. My God, I'm a mess."
"You started it," Justin protested. "Can we order pizza?"
"Maybe," Helen hedged.
"Maybe means yes, right?"
"Smart-ass kid," Helen muttered when they reached the narrow corridor along the back of the building. "What am I going to do with the both of them?"
Laura tried to sound nonchalant. "I don't know where they got the smart-ass quality from."
Helen abruptly gulped for air and burst into tears. Though she had half expected Helen to break down at some point, it was so sudden that Laura was caught off guard. There was nothing to do but offer a shoulder. Helen clung to Laura like a lifeline and Laura held her close, smoothing her back and murmuring, "Hush, hush."
Helen was trying to say something, but the words were lost on her first attempts. Finally, she managed, "Why are you telling me to be quiet?"
"I'm not-oh. Hush means it'll be all right, everything is okay. My mother would always say it after bumps and scrapes." Her aunt had said it when she'd come to tell Laura that her mother had drowned.
"I feel such a fool," Helen said. She finally let go of Laura and leaned against the dingy wall outside the restroom. "I am so sorry, so sorry about what I said."
"You were frightened. I'll get over it." Great, the closest she'd ever been to Helen and she smelled like rotten onions and was covered with sodden flour.
Helen wiped her face with her hands. "I'm a mess."
"We both are."
"And Cass said you were the grown-up."
"She lied."
Helen wiped at the flour on her neck with her wet hands, making a paste. "And I'm the selfish one. I made my kids move across the country because I'm afraid to get old and then my daughter acts out and makes herself sick. I didn't care how the move affected them-"
"Stop it," Laura said quietly. "Of course you cared."
"It didn't stop me from ruining their lives."
"You're being melodramatic." The words were out before she could stop them.
Helen was clearly offended. "What?"
"You're not taking into account the impact on them if you'd walked away from this opportunity. If you'd gone home to Woodside to lick your wounds for who knows how long."
"They'd be living their very happy lives."
"With an unhappy mother who has never not known what her next role would be."
"I could have faked happiness."
"I'm sure you could, except your kids know you too well. I'm just saying that regardless of what you decided, their lives were going to change, and maybe not for the better either way. You can't know which was the better choice. You'll never know. I guess that comes with the parenting territory."
Laura ran her hands over her hair again. They still came away covered in white. "My mother made many, many sacrifices for me, Helen. When she found out she was pregnant, she told the father. He tried to have her deported by telling the INS she was a prostitute. She hid out until I was born so I would be unquestionably an American citizen since my father was fighting acknowledging me. When I was eight my mother moved us back to Jamaica. For the longest time I thought she ran away from Miami, but she had actually swallowed her pride and taken me to Jamaica so I could be around family because she felt she wasn't being a good enough mother. I was alone too much and someone had reported her to child services. She couldn't know that when she went home her family would treat her like a leper. They despised her for leaving them, but they leeched off of her while they belittled her high-a-mighty ways."
She'd heard the phrase applied to their little house, the scrupulously clean rooms, the healthy food, and her mother herself. High-a-mighty. "At the time I didn't get that she'd humbled herself in the hopes of giving me something important. What I live with is that she was utterly miserable in Jamaica. Beaten down. And I'd give anything for her to be able to do that over and make the choice that kept her strong."
She stopped abruptly, overwhelmed by the memory of what she'd found in the papers sent to her after her father's death. She had thought her mother weak for running home to Jamaica. Had resented moving, hated the way the other kids treated her. Reading through those papers she could only remember that she'd been a brat, adding to her mother's burdens. She'd whined and complained and stopped saying "I love you."
Helen put a hand on her arm. "Are you all right?"
Somehow she managed not to fold herself into Helen's arms. She wanted to be held, just for a minute, wanted someone else to tell her "Hush, hush," and pat her back.
She found a smile. "Just tired. And I wish my mom had lived a lot longer. I think a lot of things would have been different for me. And I could have given her so much."
"You'd have been a great daughter." Helen gestured at the restroom. "You want to go first?"
"I suppose. I don't want to leave Justin alone with the food for too long."
She laughed out loud at her reflection and managed to get some of her head under the faucet. Marginally better for it, she looked at herself closely. It had been a long, stressful day. She was emotionally drained. She could still feel the warmth of Helen's body against hers, a memory as exquisite as it was excruciating.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Every time she was alone with Laura, Helen wanted to tell her again she was sorry for how she'd acted at the hospital. There just didn't seem a way to bring it up with Laura so busy getting ready for the party. How could she for a moment have thought Laura had been sloppy, like the incompetent Mary? Even if she had mixed up Julie's food, how could she have thought Laura wasn't already excoriating herself for it? She hadn't needed Helen dumping on her too. And then, as if she hadn't been mean, Laura had held and comforted her when she'd finally broken down into tears. The moment Laura's arms had gone around her she'd felt completely safe.
It was clear to her all of Saturday morning that Laura was bothered by something. She looked wan at times and she wasn't her usual cheerful, somewhat sardoni
c self. When Helen had arrived home with the very itchy and unhappy Julie, Laura had immediately supplied a warm bowl of soup and toast to help rinse the taste of hospital food out of her mouth. Julie had confessed to eating nothing at all and inhaled the soup. Laura hadn't looked eased in mind, though. Helen could just kick herself-from the very first day Laura had been more than an employee, in thoughtfulness alone.
It probably wasn't a good idea that she was spending all day obsessing about Julie, and then for a change of pace obsessing about Laura. She managed to pull herself together when Laura left to work at the commercial kitchen, leaving Helen to take delivery of rented china, a few tables and chairs, and barware. The florist down the block delivered a huge supply of cedar and ivy boughs with holly sprigs and Christmas roses, all to decorate the tables and entry. She also talked to the string quartet's leader when he dropped by to check the space they would occupy. Laura was completely handling the food, so Helen was also supervising the bartender.
All in all, Helen concluded, parties were a huge pain. She'd rather give an impromptu performance with lines she'd never seen before. On the good side, she'd started getting calls from people on her guest list who wanted to bring a friend or two as well. Cass's feeding of the gossip mill had indeed turned her "little party" into one of the highlights of the Broadway holiday social season for the lucky chosen few. Laura had assured her the food would stretch to sixty, if necessary.
The day wore on in fits and starts. Justin called from the rental kitchen to ask permission to hang at a friend's for the night after he finished there. He promised to be home in time to be of use tomorrow as well. She tossed together a salad for herself and Julie and promptly dozed off in the middle of Julie's holiday favorite Elf.
Keys in the front door woke her. The DVD player had turned off after the movie ended-to her surprise, it was after ten. Laura was struggling in with a large and unwieldy box. With a quick glance at Julie, who looked as if she would sleep all night on the couch, Helen went to help.
"I figured I might as well bring back some of my equipment tonight. No wasted trips." She shifted the box awkwardly. "It smells fantastic in here. I love cedar and roses."
Helen skittered ahead of her, holding the swinging door to the kitchen open, then clearing enough space on the small center island for Laura to deposit the box.
"I brought samples. Is Julie up?"
"She's sound asleep on the couch. I guess the movie had the same effect on both of us."
"How is she doing?"
"The hives on her face have almost completely faded. She has a really bad patch on her throat and another on her belly, though."
"I hope they go away too. Here."
Used to sampling from Laura, Helen didn't hesitate to let her pop a wedge of a small tartlet into her mouth. A rich, intense savory goodness exploded along her tongue. Mushrooms infused with black pepper and ginger? "That's delicious. Wow. What else is there?"
Laura smiled. "You look just like your son."
Glad to see Laura looking more cheerful than she had this morning, Helen pretended offense. "Are you saying he and I are gluttons?"
"I didn't say that, you did."
Helen gave her a mocking glower, then happily tried a bite-sized puff filled with soft goat cheese and topped with a fig and balsamic compote. She was surprised by an added tang of cranberry. She licked her lips. "You know, you could make a living at this cooking thing."
"Could I? I'll have to give it some thought." Laura was busily stashing her knives and small equipment back where they belonged.
"I really am sorry about yesterday," Helen said. There was no point in dithering, she decided. "I was out of line."
"It's okay, Helen."
"I hurt your feelings."
"Yes. But I got over it. And you were scared, which gets some slack from me."
"You were scared too. You'd have made a good parent yourself, you know."
"I never had the least interest, to tell you the truth." Laura slid the last mixing bowl into a cupboard. She leaned against the counter, shoulders drooping. "There was the natural limitation-no easy access to the male contribution."
"Indeed, that makes conception very difficult. Even with it, after we decided to start trying it took Justin and I a couple of years."
"To tell you the truth, if I'd known kids could turn out as special as yours I might have considered it. They are great kids." Laura was staring across the room, her eyes half-closed. "Okay, yesterday wasn't Julie's finest hour. She was frustrated and she paid a high price for a silly thing like pink frosting. I get why she tried it. Nothing bad has happened in a while and so you think you'll…test it. See if something that was bad for you is still bad for you."
Helen busied herself getting a glass of water. She leaned against the counter just a foot away from Laura, studying her profile. She knew a lot of very important things about this woman, but she still had the feeling there was much more to learn. It could take years, and she didn't have years. She had to let Laura leave at the end of January. Laura had every reason to leave and not look back.
She's honest, dedicated and passionate, Helen thought. Remembering the flour fight of last night, she had to add 'playful' to the list. Intelligent, goodness yes-Laura's brain was full of information about food and the history of cultural cuisines, and she could discuss cooking as both a science and an art. She always seemed to know a play when Helen mentioned one and was far better read and more curious about the world. All Helen knew about was theater, theater and more theater-pretty dull.
I know she's kind, Helen told herself. Kind and thoughtful. Unbidden, she added, but I don't know how she likes to be kissed.
The thought had crept up on her unawares, though she knew it had been lurking for days, even weeks. Had she hesitated telling the kids about her self-discovery in part because it meant telling Laura? She didn't want Laura to think she was telling her because that meant they could now consider romantic possibilities-coming out as a pickup line? What kind of cliché would it be to sleep with a household employee? She wasn't going to act like a bored socialite, corporate king or politician using his own staff for sexual exploits.
She should say nothing more and go to bed instead of gazing at the woman like she was ice cream.
If she'd been scared she might have found a reason to leave the room. Had another snack-done anything to break the long silence. Wanting Karolina had been shattering. It had felt risky and dangerous, no matter how welcome. Looking at Laura's strong profile, weighing the totality of this woman in her heart, she wasn't frightened that she wanted her in ways that she'd never wanted anyone before. Laura might reject her, might not be interested, might be eager to get on with her life and then she would leave. It would hurt, but Helen wasn't even afraid of that pain. She was only afraid of being gnawed away by regret for failing to listen to her heart. After all these years, when she was finally looking at a prize beyond measure, she didn't want to be a chump.
She traced the outline of Laura's lips with her gaze, then the curve of her hairline behind her ear. Karolina had been fireworks and sparkle. There was fire inside her now, but it was deep. There was a voice singing in the depth of her heart, opening places she had left dark and empty. She ached in her bones to touch Laura, explore her, find out what would pleasure her. The look on Laura's face when she had been about to kiss that blonde in her car-Helen wanted to see it again, directed at her. She wanted to be craved that way, by Laura. She wanted to know she had somehow managed to twine her way inside this complicated woman until she was as necessary as air.
She didn't even know where to begin or how to earn such a gift. What did she have to offer in exchange?
Laura turned her head suddenly, her gaze sweeping over Helen's face. Helen realized that if her thoughts showed it was too late to hide them. She leaned toward Laura, unable to stop herself.
The sudden blare of the television separated them. Laura stumbled to the opposite counter. Helen gasped for air as if that wo
uld make her brain work.
The TV was muted as quickly as it had started up. Julie was awake, Helen realized.
"It's okay," Laura said. "See you in the morning. It's okay."
Helen had no idea what was "okay." She watched Laura pull off her coat as she left the kitchen. She heard her say, "Hey-you're awake. I'm wiped out. There are some snacks, all safe for you. I have to get a shower and some sleep."
By the time Helen made herself go to the living room the door to Laura's room was shut.
Julie was looking at her curiously. After a moment, she asked, "Snacks?"
"Sure. Help yourself. I think I'm going to turn in too. Tomorrow will be a long day. Don't forget to take your meds, okay?"
"I'll remember." Julie clicked off the TV as she rose from the couch.
Helen leaned against the closed door of her room. She could hear the shower running in Laura's bathroom. She wanted to go to her. Wanted to spend the night rolling in her arms. But this was not a cruise ship far away from the people in her life where she could luxuriate in passion. This was her life, and her kids' lives. And Laura's life. What did she have to give that Laura could possibly desire? The glamorous life in New York-the one thing that Laura didn't seem to want?
It would have been so easy to kiss Laura, as easy as smiling.
Moxie Taylor mocked her for a fool.
Sleep was impossible.
The only reason Laura slept, she was certain, was because she was exhausted. Her body was as tightly stretched as a bowstring. When she woke after a few hours she was washed over by the smell of Helen's hair and the soft wonder of her smile in the kitchen last night. She didn't think she was wrong-that look had been an invitation. All so romantic, she thought, if it weren't for the highly erotic thoughts that followed, including stripping Helen naked, pushing her up on the counter and feasting on her, touching her, asking her what she liked… She might have done just that if they hadn't both realized they weren't alone.
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