by Yvonne Heidt
“Van Easton.” She finally managed to blurt out before she stuck out her hand.
The woman shook her hand. “Hello.”
Van cleared her throat again. “Mrs. Chambers?”
A split second of sadness passed over her face. “Nope, someone else has that title now. Natalie O’Donnell. What can I do for you?” Her smile was polite, pretty, and soft.
Van licked her lips, suddenly wishing she had some water. “Well, actually, Natalie, it’s what I can do for you.” She indicated the grounds with a sweep of her arm. “I ran into Karen a few days ago and she mentioned that you might need a landscaper.”
Natalie twitched and looked around Van.
Van backed up a step on the porch. The seconds ticked by into a full minute. What? Doesn’t she know what her yard looks like? “Ma’am?” Van saw a flicker of fear in her expression.
“I could certainly use some help,” Natalie said. “The grounds weren’t something I considered when I bought the place and it’s going to need a major reconstruction.”
Van relaxed a little. “Do you mind if I look around?”
“Let’s start in the back.” Natalie led her around the side of the house.
Van caught herself checking out the way Natalie’s shorts shifted with her swaying walk, reminding her of the first time she saw her ass. She could smell her shampoo, fresh and citrusy, and it made her mouth water.
Little warning bells went off in her head and she went back to assessing the project. Hadn’t she learned her lesson about straight women? Natalie herself said she was divorced. Why then, was her gaydar pinging? Must be wishful thinking on her part, she concluded. Besides, it was never a good idea to get involved with a client. She wanted this job.
*
Van parked her truck, sat back, and closed her eyes. She wondered just how fast she could complete the estimate for the house on the hill. Van knew it wasn’t just the job itself she was excited about. Thoughts of the attractive but skittish new client had teased her on the drive home. Natalie was certainly jumpy when she finished giving Van a tour of the grounds, her arms folded tightly across her chest as she constantly looked over her shoulder. She was even more nervous when they were at the back of the house and stood off to the side of the porch while Van took measurements and circled around with her clipboard. When she was done, she told Natalie she would write a proposal and get back with her soon.
Natalie seemed more at ease when they got back to the front of the house and the smile she gave Van was genuine, lighting her face and creating sunshine in the small space between them. She gave a hesitant wave when Van drove away.
Van got out of the truck and headed for the front door of her small house. Five years ago, it had been falling apart, crumbling slowly, but she had been able to see the good bones beneath the wilting exterior. She had bought it and with her father’s help had restored it from the inside out. The front door opened before she could put her key in.
“Jesus. Candy, you scared the hell out me!” Over the workday, Van had forgotten about the woman she had brought home from the bar the night before, as well as the fact she had uncharacteristically told the woman she could hang out at her house. She made yet another promise to herself to quit drinking so much.
“I’m so sorry.” Candy giggled and opened the door for her and stood to the side while she came in. Freshly showered and dressed only in one of Van’s work shirts and skimpy white panties, she had obviously made herself at home. The living room was cleared of last night’s revelry.
Candy stretched on her toes to kiss her, but Van turned her head and Candy’s mouth brushed her cheek instead. “Is something wrong?”
Van hesitated then turned around. “Listen, Candy. I didn’t expect you to still be here.” She felt awkward and was reminded why she didn’t like to have women stay over. She liked her, and this wasn’t the first time they had fallen into bed together. It simply hit too close to a relationship for Van’s comfort. She opened her mouth, but Candy cut her off before she could answer.
“Please don’t use that bullshit line, it’s-not-you-it’s-me. Spare me the clichés, all right? Better yet, don’t say anything.” She threw her arms out for emphasis. “I’m leaving. I don’t need this shit.”
She left Van standing by the refrigerator, stunned. Well, that certainly went well.
A few minutes later, Candy slammed out of the bedroom completely dressed with her big purse bouncing off the side of the wall. “You know what really sucks, Van? I can’t even say that you promised me anything.” She wiped a tear off her cheek.
Even though she knew the crying to be ego rather than heartbreak, Van reached out a hand to her to stop her from running out the door. “Candy, please—”
“Please what, Van?” Candy put out a hand to block Van’s. “Don’t touch me right now. Just leave me my fucking dignity.” She slammed the door on her way out.
Van stood looking at the closed door for a moment. I’m sorry I can’t be who you want me to be. I’m sorry I can’t love you.
Love had died six years ago. Van could still remember every single word that was spoken in that hospital room the day Cara died.
Cara lay in that uncomfortable bed, hooked up to God knows how many monitors, various tubes running in different directions. Her dark hair was matted with sweat and the purple circles under her eyes were prominent on her pale and gaunt face. She was still the most beautiful woman Van had ever seen.
Van sat in the chair next to the bed and held her hand, taking care not to bump the IVs. Her tears fell freely as she shook her head. “Don’t talk like that. I don’t want anyone but you. You’re going to get better. You’ll see.”
Cara spoke softly but with intent. “I want you to love and be loved. Promise me, Vanessa. Promise me you will look for happiness.”
Van couldn’t breathe, grief punctured her heart, and she was so damn tired. She didn’t want to say good-bye to the woman she had loved for the last decade. She sure as hell couldn’t think about loving anyone else. So she lied. She looked Cara straight in the eye and promised her anything, anything at all, if it would help ease her suffering.
A tender smile spread across Cara’s face and she let go. She took a long breath in, and did not take another.
It was a promise Van had yet to keep. When the darkness grew over the loneliness until it became more than she could bear, she headed out to drown the despair. There was always a willing soul who could see her pain and wanted to fix her, at least for a night anyway. She was halfway out the door to find one of those willing female souls when her emptiness warred with self-loathing, and suddenly, all she wanted to do was lounge on the couch and watch some television. Alone.
*
“What’s that stupid grin on your face for?” Van’s father teased her.
“Got a new client.”
“Oh?” her father asked. “Anyone I know?”
“Nope. It’s a woman Karen Small told me about.” Van put her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands. “Remember…the one who bought the Seeley place.”
“Oh, yes, that’s right. I heard about her when the boys were over for poker. Stan met her. Have you gone to see her already?”
Van nodded. “I went last week. We just made an appointment for tomorrow morning to go over the estimate.”
“That was quick. I know we’ve been swamped with the spring rush. Did you tell her that someone in your family worked there a hundred years ago?”
“Yes, I did. Natalie loved the idea.”
He grinned and winked at her. “Oh, I get it.”
“You get what?”
“Stan told me she was a cute little redhead. Was he right?”
“Okay, you win. She’s really short.” Van held a hand to a point just below her shoulder. “She reminds me of the woman who played Agent Scully in the X-Files. She’s divorced and really shy.” Van squinted at her father. “Why are you asking me this anyway? She’s just a client, Dad.”
“Wel
l, she is new in town and you got a funny look on your face when you said her name. Hey, weren’t you going out with that little blonde, what’s her name, Cindy?”
“I did not get a funny look. Her name was Candy, Dad. And no, we’re not going out anymore.”
“Seriously, Vannie. Are you ever going to settle down again?”
“Why the sudden interest?” Van leaned back. “You’ve never asked me that.”
“Maybe I’m tired of seeing just your face at Sunday dinner. Maybe I want a pretty new face to smile at.”
“Then maybe you should start dating, old man.” She grinned so he knew she was kidding.
He refused to let it go. “It can’t be healthy for you, all that drinking and running around that you do. Don’t you miss having someone to come home to and talk with?”
Van leaned over the desk. “I had my shot, Dad. And she died. I was happy and I loved Cara with everything in me. I won’t ever find that again, ever. I’m not sure I even want to.” She left the office muttering under her breath. “I’ve got work to do.”
Chapter Six
A beautiful fountain bubbled in the yard. It was a classic design with a cherub pouring water out of a jug. The only thing different about it was the unusual size. It was large enough Natalie could feel the water spray from where she was standing, five feet away. Rainbows sparkled in the mist where the sun was shining through the crystal droplets of water. She looked around in astonishment. Carefully trimmed rosebushes of red, yellow, pink, and white lined the walkway into the garden on the side of the house. Dark purple blooms from a giant lilac framed the arbor. Purple pansies burst out of planters. Red geraniums battled with yellow in more containers. It was gorgeous.
Natalie sat on a pretty stone bench nestled amongst bleeding fuchsias to the side of the fountain and for the first time noticed the blue summer dress she was wearing. The only times she ever wore dresses were at her gallery showings. As a matter of fact, the only one she’d brought with her was a little black number, one of the few her ex-husband hadn’t picked out for her.
“There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Natalie turned sharply, her pulse leaping.
Sarah stood framed in the afternoon sunshine in a yellow dress. Her dark hair was loose under a matching wide-brimmed hat. Natalie could see a fine line of sweat on her upper lip. On her arm was a basket filled with recently cut flowers and she held clippers in her gloved hand.
“Hello,” she said softly then sat next to Natalie. “You’ll get sunstroke out here without your hat. If we wait awhile, we can go to the beach as soon as it cools off a little.” She fanned her face.
Natalie cleared her throat, but no sound would come out. She knew she was staring at Sarah’s mouth, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. She felt her face turning red and knew it wasn’t from the sun. Tentatively, she reached out and touched Sarah’s shoulder.
“Look at me, dear heart. You’re trembling. What’s the matter?”
Natalie managed to shake her head and whispered, “You are so beautiful. I don’t understand any of this. I think I must be losing my mind.”
“And why would you think that, love?” She brought Natalie’s hand to her mouth. Very gently, she kissed and nibbled the tip of her index finger.
Natalie felt as if a sledgehammer hit her. Her stomach twisted, and she shivered slightly before looking into Sarah’s eyes, seeing only desire reflected back to her.
“I know what you need. Come along. It’s too hot, don’t you think? We should be lying down in the heat of the day.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ll come to you as soon as the housekeeper leaves to go shopping. Be waiting for me.” Sarah disappeared back into the side garden.
Natalie nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She decided it was stupid to be nervous because this had to be a dream, right? She raced up to her room and stepped out of her pretty dress. Natalie stood in front of the cool ocean breeze coming in the window for a moment before she lay on the bed in her slip. It was hot and she positively ached with desire. What was taking Sarah so long?
When she woke to a noise some time later, it was dark and Natalie realized she must have been moaning out loud. Her hips were undulating against the hand she’d tucked between her legs sometime during the night. She was so disappointed she didn’t get to finish the dream about Sarah. Natalie held the image of her face and the look in Sarah’s eyes while she continued to rock against her hand; maybe this time she could have an orgasm. It had been so long since she’d tried. She closed her eyes, reveling in the pounding sensation between her thighs.
Hot female skin slid over her naked body, soft curves fit against her own. Natalie shivered and arched her back. Natalie was lost in her fantasy but couldn’t help but remember all those years she wasted, thinking something was wrong with her. That she wasn’t capable of this passion or response. She opened her legs to give Sarah room to kneel between them.
Shouts filtered in the open window from outside. The voices were male.
Sarah rose in a panic. “I need to go. He can’t find us like this.” She grabbed a robe from the end of the bed and ran out of the room.
“Who can’t find us here like this?” Natalie said to the empty room. The front door slammed so hard, she jumped and frantically looked for a place to hide. Heavy footsteps thudded on the stairs. One after the other, growing louder with each step until the bedroom door flew open and hit the wall.
A very large, very angry man stood in the doorway dressed in black. His shoulders filled the doorframe and rage distorted his face. He took a step into the room and slammed the door shut.
*
Natalie’s eyes snapped open, her breath coming in gasps. She was almost paralyzed with fear, and damp with cold sweat, she stared into the dark. The man wasn’t in her room and nothing assaulted her. After a few moments, she snapped the lamp switch on her nightstand. The window was open and the air in her room was cold. She rubbed her arms briskly in an attempt to warm them. What the hell just happened?
A quick look and she saw she was still dressed in the same rumpled tank and shorts she’d gone to bed in. She knew the encounter with Sarah was just a dream, but Natalie’s very real physical reaction was still lingering. She made an effort to control her breathing so she could slow her heart rate down and try to think. She’d just had the most amazing sexual experience in her life and it was a fricking dream? But why did she feel as if it were so real? She had a vivid flash of velvet skin against hers, breast to breast and thigh to thigh; long, silky hair wrapping her in lavender fragrant softness.
After she calmed a little, she went into the bathroom where she splashed cold water on her face and looked into the mirror. What she saw made her pulse quicken all over again. She blinked then touched her changed reflection in the mirror. Her lips were swollen and her neck showed little red marks. She felt her stomach tighten and gripped the counter for support.
She felt a little sad. Could it be that she was manifesting these dreams because of the divorce? Was she reacting to her upheaval and sense of rejection by creating an imaginary lover who really desired her? Why did she feel that she knew Sarah, and who the hell was that man in black?
*
The next morning, Natalie sat on the front porch swing with her coffee and rocked back and forth, swinging her feet in rhythm. Last night’s dream would not leave her alone. Her thoughts played like a DVD in slow frame. Images of soft female skin, sliding over her own would snap to the fear she felt when she saw the man in her doorway. She’d lain in bed until dawn, trying to put the sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway toward her hundred year old house. She had to; logically, she knew there was no one else in the house with her. She preferred not to think of the alternative. At least not until her mother arrived.
It wasn’t until she heard a truck door slam that she noticed Van’s white landscaping truck. Their appointment had slipped her mind.
Natalie watched her approach through the
morning heat to the porch. Van’s long, long legs wore faded 501s and she had on a white tank top with the words V & V Landscapers embroidered over her left breast. Small, perfect breasts with hard nipples that I want to bite.
The thought shocked her. Natalie felt her face flush and looked at the wooden planks. It didn’t matter; the sight of Van was burned into her retinas. The next things she saw were Van’s boots.
“Drop something?” Van slid her aviator sunglasses down her nose to peer at her and dropped her considerable height to a crouch.
“No.” Natalie felt almost giddy. She looked into Van’s ice-blue eyes and smiled. She wanted to reach and move the lock of platinum bangs to the side and stare longer. She wanted to run her tongue along her long neck and nibble on her ear. What was wrong with her? Natalie made a concentrated effort to pull herself together.
“Good morning.” Van set the briefcase on the swing next to Natalie. “I’ve brought your estimates.”
“Let’s take them in the kitchen.”
Natalie could feel Van’s attention. She felt as if her skin was humming with an electrical charge and she asked herself why. She had met beautiful butch women before; she was an artist for God’s sake, and from San Francisco, no less. Half the people she knew were gay. She didn’t know if this attraction was real or a holdover from her erotic dream. She turned around, ridiculously pleased at the sound of a wolf whistle coming from behind her. Unfortunately, the appreciation was for the counters.
“Wow. There must be an acre of granite in here.”
“I know, right? They did a wonderful job in here.” Maybe she could ask Van some questions. “Did you ever meet them, the previous owners?
