Balefire

by Barrett

  “I see.” Rachel stood up, walked to the sink, then opened the refrigerator and grabbed another beer. Her hands shook. “What’s going on? Have you suddenly found someone else?”

  Silke sighed. “No, there isn’t anyone else. But there just isn’t any us. We’re both walking around on eggshells and I’m tired. I don’t know when you stopped loving me, but I stopped the day I could no longer trust you.”

  She wheeled around. “Dammit. I’ve done everything humanly possible to try to earn back your trust. I don’t know what more I could possibly do.”

  “Rachel, you have done everything possible to make amends for nearly killing me. So I guess, the question really is, what could I have possibly done to make you hate me enough that you tried to kill me?” Her voice felt tight and anger clogged her throat. She gripped the edges of the table as though the action would help her.

  “We were both angry. It was a ridiculous argument, and I lost my temper. I feel like I’ve been apologizing for one careless accident every day since. Every time I look at you, I feel guilty. You are a constant reminder that I screwed up.”

  The comment stung, tearing open a deep wound. “Exactly. That’s what I’m talking about. We don’t love each other—we tolerate each other. You spend more time out of town than you spend here. And now I understand why. You feel guilty. That’s not a basis for a relationship, even a friendship.”

  “And you just now decided to bring this up, the night before I leave town?”

  “Yes. I want you to have time to think about what you want to do. If you can just be honest with yourself, you’ll agree that you don’t want to be in this relationship any more than I do. So why drag it on needlessly? I suggest we both act like adults for a change and go our separate ways.” Silke gripped the nearly empty beer bottle.

  “You have this all figured out, don’t you?” Rachel sneered. “How long have you been planning this?”

  Silke finished her beer and slammed the bottle down on the table. “For God’s sake, Rachel, don’t try to put this on me. I tried, repeatedly. The only reason I went with you last weekend was to keep the damn peace. I have no clue why you invited me, because you clearly had a fine time without me.” Adrenaline surged through her muscles, empowering her.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Please. You were having the time of your life, a real social butterfly. When I asked you to take me home, you know what? You were actually surprised. You had no idea why I was unhappy. Why? Because you paid no attention to me the whole time.”

  “You’re an adult and can entertain yourself. You don’t need me to hold your hand.” Rachel turned on the water and rinsed her hands.

  “You’re right. I don’t. So think about what you want to keep, and when you get back, we will divide things up.” Silke walked to the back door and opened it. “Thanks for the pizza.”

  “I’m not finished . . .”

  Oh yes you are. Silke continued straight out the gate to her studio—on rubbery legs.

  The neighborhood was exceptionally quiet as she unlocked the door. A wave of regret washed over her, and she hoped losing her temper didn’t mean acting spiteful and vindictive. She glanced over her shoulder nervously. This kind of disagreement would normally set off Rachel’s rage. There was nothing to do now she had played her hand.

  Humid air surrounded her, and the sweet smell of wood filled her senses. Refracted moonlight through the large glass panes above her cast an eerie glow on the two large sections of wood. She stood between them with a hand on each. The glowing energy emanating from the wood grounded her. Beneath her fingers, the smooth surface felt warm. She suddenly thought of Nekoomis and the heat that she had felt from her touch. It will be all right.

  She turned on a small light over the workbench and sorted through the preliminary sketches until she found the one for the mortise and tenon joint she planned. Working would ground her and fill the gaping wound caused by her uncertainty. She’d start on the joint first thing in the morning.

  Just looking at the design made her smile. Ironic that at this phase of her project, she was building a connection—a sturdy, solid connection.

  She sketched until her vision blurred. It was almost nine-thirty, and she breathed a sigh of relief that Rachel should be asleep. Thankfully. She rubbed her eyes and wondered if it was too late to call Kirin. After all she had promised. She decided to send a text.

  While she waited for a reply, she put away the drawings, locked the door, and made her way carefully up the stairs to the loft. There was enough light to find the small lamp and turn it on. The bed felt comfortable as she sat on the side. Even with the window open, the room was uncomfortably warm. She remembered the box fan in the basement. Tomorrow she’d bring it over.

  The phone vibrated. She saw Kirin’s name and answered. “Hi, there. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  “No, I was in the shower. I just finished editing the Sturgeon Bay piece. I was thinking about you and hoped you’d call. How did it go?”

  “Okay, I think. I told her. Now I’ll just wait and see. The ball’s in her court.”

  “Really? Good for you. It must have been hard.”

  Silke lay on the bed and kicked off her shoes. “You know, it went better than I thought it would. I think I took her by surprise, and she may not have had time to react. I’ve been in the studio all night, waiting for her to come screaming through the door. But she has to leave early tomorrow morning so I hope she’s in bed.”

  “A surprise attack, I like it. I guess I’m surprised at your equanimity, although I shouldn’t be. I’ve seen how well you do under pressure—like hurricane pressure.”

  Silke laughed, remembering the adventures at the airport. “Oh yeah, I was a real rock.”

  “You were for me.”

  Silke sat up. Kirin sounded serious. “Thank you. That’s sweet of you to say.”

  “I mean it . . . I’m not sure what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been there,” Kirin said. “I hate being in those situations where I have no control. Fortunately, it doesn’t happen often.”

  It touched her heart at how much courage it took for someone as fiercely independent as Kirin Foster to make that statement. A flush blossomed in her chest and spread to her neck. For the past eight months, tenderness had been missing from her life. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything. Can I call you tomorrow?”

  “I’d really like that. Goodnight, Kirin.”

  “Sleep well.”

  She stripped off her clothes and shut out the light. The sudden breeze blew across her damp skin raising goose bumps. She stretched out on her back and smiled. “I will now.”

  Chapter Thirty-one

  “C’MON IN.” KIRIN closed the door behind Melissa who was juggling a large paper bag and a cardboard carrier with two large coffee cups.

  She’d been working since dawn, selecting pictures from the parade. And smiled at the inordinate number of pictures she took of Silke. Her red Badger tee shirt complemented her pink complexion and strawberry-blond hair.

  “I hope you like the croissant sandwich. I forgot to ask if you wanted bacon or sausage.” Melissa spread the food packages on the counter and opened the cupboard for sugar. One of the advantages of inviting an ex for breakfast, she knew where everything was.

  “I appreciate you’re doing this. I have a deadline and didn’t really have time to meet you anywhere. So tell me . . .”

  “Tell you what?” Melissa said with a mouthful.

  “Everything. I want to know all the sordid details of your weekend. Leave nothing to my imagination.” Truthfully, she enjoyed Melissa’s theatrical presentations.

  Melissa blew on her coffee then took a sip. “Girl, I am here to tell you that I have met my match. Steffi is an animal.” She giggled. “But I mean that in the best sense of the word. We had a great time Saturday at the party, and even though there wasn’t much privacy, we snuck off as many times as we could. I
don’t think I slept for two days. But that’s not the best part. She begged me—on her knees—begged me to come home with her.” She sighed then took another bite. “And that woman has some serious toys. Holy mother of God. If you ever fantasized about it, we probably did it.”

  Kirin struggled to contain herself as she thought about the heady days when she and Melissa first got together. But as she remembered it, their antics paled in comparison to this.

  “She has a really nice house on the west side, actually kind of fancy. It’s an older two-story house. There’s a gigantic family room downstairs that’s, well . . . self-contained, shall we say. It’s awesome.”

  “So . . . did you learn anything or was it just same old, same old?”

  Melissa punched her in the shoulder. “Are you effing kidding me? I was a naked little concubine for almost three glorious days. The only reason I decided to leave was to get some sleep.”

  Kirin couldn’t restrain herself any longer. She covered her mouth but couldn’t stop laughing. “I never thought I’d see the day, no disrespect intended and you’ll forgive the cliché, but you really do look like you’ve been rode hard and put away wet.”

  Melissa spewed coffee across the counter and nodded. “You ain’t kidding!” She grabbed the napkins and wiped up the coffee. “But there’s something else.” She looked up and her expression was serious. “I really like her. I know she’s older, but she’s really smart and one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met.” She stopped fidgeting. “No one has ever treated me as lovingly as Steffi does.”

  In all the time they’d been together, Kirin had never seen this side of Melissa. Something had happened. She touched Melissa’s hand. “Then I’m glad for you, she sounds wonderful.”

  “She’s asked me to move in with her, but told me to take a few days and think about it first. She wants me to be sure. What do you think?”

  “I agree with Steffi. You need to take some time and be sure. Remember, the heart wants what the heart wants.”

  Melissa hugged her tightly. “I love you and I hope we will always be friends.”

  “I’m sure we will. I suppose this means no more benefits, right?” Kirin raised an eyebrow.

  “’Fraid so.”

  “THE PLACE LOOKS good, you made it real homey.” Silke’s crusty landlord hobbled down the stairs. “But it’s mighty warm up there.” He scratched the stubble on his chin. “I think one of those big old attic exhaust fans would do wonders to keep the air moving in here. I’ll see what I can do.” He slowly nodded. “I’ve got a buddy who goes to all those flea markets, never comes home empty handed.” He chuckled. “His wife is about to kill him, but it seems to me he mentioned picking up a couple of big fans.” He turned around and nodded. “I’ll give him a call. But you be careful not to overload the circuits, okay?”

  “I sure will and I really appreciate your help.” Silke smiled as he limped through the bay door.

  The morning was lost by measuring, calculating, measuring again, then cutting the joint. There could be no mistakes on a project this big. Those logs were too expensive.

  She unwrapped her ham sandwich, and the phone rang.

  “Hi, are you in the middle of something?” Kirin sounded chipper.

  “This is a good time. I just sat down to eat. I hoped you might call.” In fact her whole body felt glad.

  “Excellent. How was your morning?”

  “I made good progress. I finished the preliminary cuts for the mortise and tenon joint. I’ll need to use smaller tools for a perfect fit. But, I don’t want to do that until we see how the pipe fits. What have you been doing?” She opened a can of soda and put her feet on the workbench.

  “I have the pictures and the article ready to send to Esther. I just need to print it and read it through one more time,” Kirin said. “Oh, I have some news. I should say gossip. Melissa came by to give me a blow by blow description of her weekend of sin.”

  She smiled. “You weren’t kidding. I guess she enjoyed the weekend more than we did.”

  “I’m not so sure,” Kirin said. “I had a great time and I slept more than she did.”

  They laughed.

  “Seriously, it turns out Melissa and Steffi are actually compatible and while they had a rollicking good time playing, Steffi became rather smitten.”

  “I don’t know Steffi real well,” Silke said. “I think she’s worked at Harley for a number of years, some kind of financial guru. She worked at the plant right out of high school then enlisted in the army. When she got out, she went for an accounting degree and Harley hired her back. I think beneath the bluster, she’s a real warm person.”

  “Good to know because I’ve never seen Melissa so infatuated. As long as I’ve known her, she’s always been about the physical attraction. Her self-esteem comes from her gorgeous body. I never understood what attracted her to me. I’m a lot older and frumpier.”

  “Now that’s ridiculous. I think you’re very attractive.”

  “Don’t forget the, for a woman your age.”

  Silke laughed. “I guess I would if you were eighty years old. I have no idea how old you are.”

  “Let’s just say, I’m gliding gracefully past the halfway point. I’m forty-four.”

  “Ah, a younger woman. I should’ve guessed when you talked about school.” The conversation reminded her of the embrace on the front porch. Kirin was only a few inches taller, but she liked the way they fit together.

  “Well, I don’t feel all that young,” Kirin said. “I’m beginning to suspect that too many hours in planes, trains, and terminals are taking a toll on my body. Jet lag has become a permanent condition along with back and leg pains. I was glad the last trip was by car and only a couple of hours. Plus, I had superb company.”

  “Well, aren’t you sweet? I enjoyed the drive myself.”

  Kirin didn’t respond right away. “I know you have a lot to do but . . . I’d like to see you. Do you think we could have dinner or coffee?”

  Silke felt herself blush. “Yes, that’s a great idea. I’ll just be out here working. You could . . . um, probably come over any time.”

  “Great. As soon as I send off the parade article, I’ll change and come over. Can I bring you anything?”

  Silke’s imagination kicked into gear, but she restrained herself. “Not really, unless you have an extra fan lying around, it’s pretty warm.”

  Kirin giggled. “I’ll check. See you later.”

  Silke gathered her trash and tossed it in the garbage can. She started upstairs and tripped over a box on the first step. She plowed into the steps chin first and rolled off onto the floor with a thud. “Shit!”

  She cursed herself for not remembering the box she had set on the second step a half hour earlier. She wiped her chin, surprised by the blood. Her lip was already swelling. She looked down and noticed scrapes on both knees.

  “Damn it, I knew this would happen. That’s what you get for daydreaming you damn dope.”

  The steps were narrow and steep with only a partial handrail. She limped up to the makeshift bathroom and filled the basin with water. Fortunately, she had brought paper towels and was able to wash the dirt from wounds. The scrapes on her knees would heal fine, but the one on her chin and the cut on her lip hurt like hell. Rather than go back downstairs for ice, she made compresses and lay on her bed.

  The hum of the distant lawnmower and the intermittent breeze through the window lulled her into semi-sleep. Her barely accessible daydream found her drifting with Kirin. The fleeting images of talking, laughing, and drinking wine moved between idyllic and comic. The pleasure genuine.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  KIRIN HIT SAVE, typed a quick note to Esther, and then hit send. After a fist pump, she carefully slid the paper copy into a file folder and closed the drawer. It was a good article, and she was proud of it. She hoped to smooth a few feathers with Esther. Her petulant behavior because of the assignment snafu in Belize had not been her finest moment. Unde
r pressure, she understood that she was difficult at best, at the worst, a bitch.

  Best-case scenario: her editor and publisher would be so pleased with two back-to-back assignments, they might find a better way to showcase her article on the aftermath of the storm. She’d send that off at the end of the week so they’d have time over the weekend to think about it.

  Her closet held no surprises, so she pulled out a bright orange polo shirt to complement her navy blue shorts. It looked good with her dark hair. After her shower, she applied a new body lotion that smelled wonderful. Her hair looked a little long, but she liked the way it curled behind her ears. Adolescent anxiety trickled through her nervous system. She reluctantly admitted that she was preening to impress Silke.