by J. T. Marie
“We get a portion of the hole dug,” Keri continues, “the part closest to the house, and then the backhoe snags on a cable—”
Dayla sputters into her soup. “What? What kind of cable?”
“Literally cable,” Keri explains. “Like for your TV. Apparently the utilities are underground at Windsor Farms, and—”
“And didn’t you call Miss Utility to mark the ground?” Even Dayla knows you have to call; she’s seen the trucks on the road from time to time, the numbers 8-1-1 in large type on the back of the vehicle.
“We did,” Keri says. “They came out Tuesday. The whole lawn is marked with spray paint and survey flags. This was apparently an additional line someone had spliced off the main one without telling the cable company. We also dug through an old invisible fence line, but it isn’t in use so we just cut it out.”
“Where did the cable go to?” Dayla asks. “How would the cable company not know about it?”
With a shrug, Keri explains, “An illegal hookup, most likely. You have pay the cable company to run the lines when you sign up for the service. Someone just spliced this off the main line and ran it into the backyard somewhere. But that’s not the worst thing.”
“It gets worse? How?”
Keri shakes her head as she takes a bite of her lo mein. “We found some bones.”
Dayla almost chokes. “Did you say bones?”
“Little ones,” Keri clarifies. “I thought they looked like an animal but we had to call the medical examiner in anyway, just to be safe. So took up a good portion of the afternoon just waiting for them to show up. And then—”
“No.” Dayla laughs. “There can’t be anything else.”
“There is,” Keri assures her. “The owner’s husband comes home from a business trip he’s been on for the past few weeks and suddenly he doesn’t like the L shape we decided on months ago. He wants a round pool now.”
“Jeez, I’m sorry.” Setting her soup aside, Dayla dives into her steamed rice and veggies. “So now what?”
Keri sighs. “Now we wait for the medical examiner to give us the all clear, then the cable company has to come out to relocate the line, and we’ll spend a few days next week with the owners again hashing out the blueprints. All I can say is I’m glad it’s the weekend.”
“I’ll bet.”
Straightening up, Keri flashes a quick smile. “But enough about me. How was your day? What’d you do?”
“Well,” Dayla drawls. Her ho-hum day pales in comparison. “I had a client at two who wanted mermaid hair, so that took up my whole afternoon.”
The puzzled look on Keri’s face is adorable. “Mermaid—what?”
“Mermaid hair.” With a laugh, Dayla explains, “First I had to bleach it, then I did a blue and purple ombre with green highlights, and finished with some beachy waves. It came out really pretty.”
“And really weird,” Keri admits. “I’ve never seen anyone with green highlights in my life.”
Dayla digs her phone out of her back pocket and opens her camera roll. “Here, take a look.”
Before she can hand over the phone, Keri scoots closer, near enough that Dayla catches a whiff of clean soap and apple-scented shampoo. She takes a deep breath and murmurs, “You smell wonderful.”
Keri laughs. “Because I just got out of the shower. You should’ve smelled me when I first got home. I stank to high heaven.”
“You smell good now.” Dayla closes her eyes and inhales Keri’s scent.
“It’ll wear off by the end of the night,” Keri tells her. “Just wait and see.”
Did their takeout dinner date suddenly turn into something more? As Keri slides in next to her to look at the photos on her phone, Dayla prays, God, I hope so.
Chapter 7
After dinner, Dayla helps Keri clean up, then checks on mama cat while Keri takes the Chinese food containers to the trash can outside. Mama’s still laying on her side in the middle of the room, but the sunbeam is long gone. As Dayla strums her swollen belly, Keri returns.
“What are your hours tomorrow?” she asks, leaning against the door frame to watch Dayla pet the cat.
“I’m off, believe it or not.” Then she turns, frowning. “Wait, do you need me to check on the cats on weekends? I forgot to ask before, and now it occurs to me you might be home then. Or do you work tomorrow?”
Laughing, Keri tells her, “You know I have to rest sometime, right? I’m not even going to think about that damn pool until Monday morning.”
“So that’s a no then?” Part of her is disappointed. She’d begun to hope she might catch Keri home again another evening soon.
“I don’t need you to come by, but you’re welcome to.”
Keri’s frank gaze offers Dayla more questions than it answers. Is she interested in taking things between them farther? Is she attracted to Dayla the way Dayla’s attracted to her? Is it too soon to hope so yet?
The moment stretches out between them, the silence growing awkward. Keri holds Dayla’s gaze, but if she’s waiting for a response, Dayla isn’t sure what to say. Thanks? Yes? Please?
Finally Keri tucks a stray curl behind her ear. “Hey, you got any other plans tonight?”
Dayla shakes her head. “Just go home and go to bed. Why?”
“You want to hang out here for a bit?” Keri shrugs, nonchalant. “I mean, I’m not promising anything too exciting, but maybe we can find something to watch on TV, or something? How’s that sound?”
With a smile, Dayla admits, “It sounds like a pretty good time to me.”
* * * *
This time they sit together on the sofa while Keri flips through the cable guide on the TV, looking for something to watch. After two rounds, nothing catches their interest, so they settle on the Food Network. “I haven’t done this in a while,” Keri says, setting aside the remote.
“What, watch TV?” Dayla jokes. “Order Chinese for dinner?”
Keri gives her a playful nudge. “No, silly. Just this. Sitting here with someone. Hanging out.”
Taking a swig from what remains in her bottle of hard lemonade, Dayla says, “You make it sound like we’re in high school all over again.”
“God, no!” Keri pats Dayla’s knee and groans. “I only meant that this is nice. I like it, being here. With you.”
Dayla’s belly flutters at the touch. Suddenly she feels flushed and hot all over. Heat radiates from the hand still resting on her knee. “Me, too,” she whispers.
But if she expects anything more, she’s disappointed. Keri’s hand withdraws, and even though her shoulder almost touches Dayla’s, there’s still an inch of space separating them. They sit in companionable silence, Keri watching TV and Dayla secretly watching Keri from the corner of her vision. She wishes she were brave enough to initiate something, but she isn’t. She doesn’t want to be rebuffed.
As one show ends and another begins, Keri admits, “I really love watching cooking shows, probably because I love to eat but hate to cook.”
“Well, there’s always takeout,” Dayla teases.
“Yeah, but if I don’t think to call something in on my way home,” Keri says, “I have to order enough to meet the minimum delivery amount, and it’s hard to justify ordering a whole pizza for just one person.”
Dayla points out, “Leftovers.” When Keri scrunches up her nose in disgust, Dayla impishly suggests, “Then call me. I can always eat. I’ll come on over and we’ll order again like we did tonight.”
Keri gives her a sideways smirk. “I’m sure you’ll get tired of me eventually. I mean, you’re already over here twice a day now as it is to check in on the cats. I’m sure there’s someone else you’d rather be with. Your boyfriend—”
Dayla almost chokes on the last of her hard lemonade. “No, sorry. I think you and I bat for the same team.”
Is it her imagination, or does Keri’s smile widen slightly? “So your girlfriend, then.”
“Unfortunately I don’t have one of those at the moment.”
But hopefully that might change. Her whole body trills at the thought, and for a moment she can no longer meet Keri’s open gaze. “I guess you can say I’m in a league of my own right now.”
To her surprise, Keri scoots over a little, enough so their thighs press alongside each other. She takes Dayla’s free hand in both of hers and laces her fingers through Dayla’s. There’s a bit of a tease in her voice when she says, “So you’re saying I have you all to myself.”
Dayla’s blood surges at the words. “If you want me,” she says, her voice soft and coy.
Before Dayla realizes what’s happening, Keri leans over and kisses her. For one long, breathless moment, Keri’s lips burn on Dayla’s mouth and the world seems to freeze, time stops, and Dayla even forgets to breathe. Then Keri’s warm tongue licks Dayla’s lips before parting them to delve inside.
The empty bottle Dayla holds slides nervelessly to the floor. The TV is forgotten, ignored, as Keri pulls her closer. Dayla opens up to her, giving into the moment, the woman, the kiss. It’s sweet and heady, and Dayla tingles all over as their kiss deepens.
Chapter 8
At some point they end up on the couch, stretched out side by side facing each other. The TV is off now, the remote discarded on the coffee table, and the only light comes from the three-way torchiere lamp at the far end of the couch. It’s been turned down to the lowest setting, making the darkened living room intimate. All of Dayla’s attention has narrowed, too, focused solely on the woman lying beside her. In the diffused golden light, most of Keri’s freckles have disappeared, but Dayla can still see them every time she leans in to kiss. Keri’s damp curls are a burnished copper, her cheeks ruddy, her eyes dark pools of starlight. Dayla thinks she looks beautiful.
It’s a tight fit on the sofa for the both of them. Whenever Dayla leans back to come up for air and marvel that she’s really here, in Keri’s arms, she wobbles a little, almost as if she might roll off the couch.
Before she can, Keri catches her around the waist, keeping her close. “Where do you think you’re going?” she teases, punctuating her words with a kiss on the tip of Dayla’s nose.
“Nowhere any time soon.” Dayla leans closer to catch the next kiss on her lips. “Tonight there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here with you.”
Slowly things heat up between them, from kissing to petting, hands rubbing up arms and thighs, then going further. The arm Keri keeps around Dayla’s waist eases up, her hand slipping under Dayla’s shirt to brush along ticklish skin. Dayla’s arms are between them, and she fiddles with the buttons on the front of Keri’s shirt; there’s a tank top underneath it, but a delicious bit of cleavage peeks through. Whenever their lips meet, Dayla runs a hand up Keri’s décolletage to cup the nape of her neck. Keri slides her arm around Dayla’s back and hugs her tight, their hips pressed together.
Time seems to stop. There’s nothing in Dayla’s world at the moment but Keri, and she wasn’t kidding when she said there’s nowhere else she’d rather be. But as the minutes melt away, Dayla can see how exhausted Keri is, despite the second wind she seemed to get after her shower. Keri had a long day, and as much as Dayla wants to kiss and love every inch of her, doing so tonight might disappoint them both.
There’s always tomorrow. With that thought in mind, Dayla pulls back, turning her head when Keri tries to kiss her again. Damp lips smudge across her cheek. “Listen,” she says.
Keri frowns. “Uh-oh, that doesn’t sound good.”
“No, no,” Dayla assures her. “It’s just that I know you’re beat. You have to be, after the day you had.”
With a laugh, Keri says, “Tell me about it. Every time I close my eyes, it gets harder and harder to open them again. I just want to lie here…with you…”
As if on cue, her eyelids drop and she rests her head against Dayla’s chest, snuggling closer. Her breath flutters under the neckline of Dayla’s shirt.
“Let’s just stay like this forever,” she murmurs sleepily.
Gently Dayla brushes the curls back from Keri’s forehead. They’re as soft as cotton, and she plunges her fingers into the warm, wet depths. “As wonderful as that sounds, I’m thinking maybe I should head on home and let you get some rest.” At Keri’s faint frown, Dayla adds, “I’ll come back tomorrow. I promise.”
“You don’t have to come by if you don’t want to,” Keri protests. “I’ll be here to check on the cats, you know.”
“I know.” Dayla hugs Keri close. “But I won’t be coming to see them.”
* * * *
It’s only when she starts to doze herself that Dayla finally gets moving. Still, it takes every ounce of strength she has to pull herself away from Keri. It’s so tempting to stay where they are, cramped on the couch together, both of them wanting so much more but too tired to do much about it. Tomorrow, she promises herself as she pushes up off the couch.
Dayla’s movements startle Keri out of a doze. “Leaving?” she asks, breathing in deep as she pushes herself up from the cushions. A few stray curls stick to her cheek where she laid on them.
“God,” Dayla sighs. “If you weren’t so exhausted, I swear I would totally rock your world tonight.”
With a sleepy smile, Keri admits, “I’d probably sleep through it. I’m sorry!”
“Don’t be.” Dayla holds out a hand to help her get up.
Keri stumbles as she stands, staggering into Dayla’s arms. “I’ll take a raincheck,” she murmurs against Dayla’s neck. “How’s tomorrow sound?”
Planting a tender kiss on Keri’s forehead, Dayla says, “Tomorrow works for me.”
Keri offers to walk her to her car, but that isn’t necessary. “See you soon,” Dayla promises, claiming one last kiss at the front door. “Get some rest.”
“I will.” Keri leans against the open door and watches until Dayla’s in her car. With one last wave, she shuts the door and is gone.
Now that Dayla’s behind the wheel, she feels a little more awake. Or, at least, awake enough to drive the short distance home. Just in case, she turns up the radio and sings along—loudly—to make sure she doesn’t doze off behind the wheel.
As she’s turning onto her street, the radio cuts off in mid-song. Instead her phone starts to ring through the car’s speakers. A quick glance at the caller ID on the dashboard display shows Keri’s name, and Dayla’s heart stutters. Using the SYNC buttons on her steering wheel, she answers.
Before Dayla can speak, Keri says, “Hey, you still out?”
Dayla jokes, “Change your mind?”
Keri sounds breathless but wide awake. “Can you come back?”
The urgency in her voice startles Dayla. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“I think Missy’s in labor.” Keri laughs. “The kittens are coming.”
Dayla’s whole body breaks out in goosebumps. Already halfway through her turn, she keeps going, her tires screeching as she does a U-ey in the middle of the empty road. “Oh my God! I’m on my way.”
This she has to see.
Chapter 9
When she gets back to Keri’s, Dayla jumps the curb in front of the house and pulls the keys out of the ignition. She doesn’t bother straightening out the car or even driving off the curb. Too late—she’s already halfway up the sidewalk at a quick clip, not yet running but almost. The front door is locked, though; Keri must be in the cat room.
Now the kitten room, Dayla thinks. And I’m missing it!
But she has a key to the side door, so she hurries around the house, fumbling with her keychain to find the right one. When she reaches the door, she barely stops long enough to insert the key and her shoulder rams into the wood before the knob turns. Then she’s stumbling inside, tossing her purse onto the counter, leaving the key in the door as she closes it behind her.
“Keri?” Dayla calls out, even though the door to the cat room is open. Light spills out into the darkened hall. Where else would she be?
Then Keri appears in the doorway, her earlier sleepiness gone. Her e
yes shine as she motions for Dayla to come in.
“Did I miss it?” Suddenly hesitant, Dayla tiptoes closer, as if she might scare the cat. And what, she won’t give birth? Like she can just keep the kittens in, or something.
When she reaches the doorway, Keri eases an arm around her waist and pulls her closer. “She’s had two already.”
“How many are there?” Dayla peeks into the room but doesn’t see anything at first. Then she sees movement in the corner of her eye and notices a cardboard Amazon box lying on its side.
Mama cat stretches out inside, licking what Dayla first thinks is a paw. Then Dayla notices the tiny, damp bundle of fur in front of Missy’s white belly. The newborn is so small, but already appears to be nursing. She realizes Missy’s cleaning off a second kitten. In a barely audible voice, she sighs, “Oh my God!”
Keri squeezes her tight. “I know, right?”
“So there’s two,” Dayla confirms.
“Two so far,” Keri says.
Dayla has to remember how to breathe. The kittens are so small. “How many are there again?”
She feels Keri shrug against her. “I don’t know,” Keri admits. “The vet did an X-ray last time we were there and thought maybe four, but there could be as many as six. So I guess we’ll just wait and see.”
“Six?!” Dayla gives a little breathless laugh. “She doesn’t look big enough for six.”
“You’d be surprised.”
Keri encircles Dayla with both arms now, holding her in a sideways hug, and Dayla grips the arm around her waist as if she never wants to let go. “So when’s the next one coming?”
With a laugh, Keri says, “They’re usually about a half hour apart.”
“Wow.” Though Dayla never had a cat have kittens, she sort of expected them to be born like a string of pearls, each one right behind the other. This might take some time. She tries to do the math in her head. “Four kittens a half hour apart—”
“Or forty minutes,” Keri amends.
