by Gerri Hill
Today, Gina notwithstanding, she still didn’t.
Gina was staying in Calloway until the weekend and she’d asked Ashleigh to stay as well. At the time, Ashleigh had agreed. They could spend tomorrow together. One more day to...to what? Make love? Have sex? Then what? Then Gina would go back to Corpus, out of her life once again. And Ashleigh would be left with fresher, more vibrant memories. Not the stale, used ones she’d carried since high school. One more day of being with Gina. One more day of opening her heart, letting Gina back inside a little.
She rolled over, curling her hands beneath her chin, feeling a familiar ache in her chest, recognizing it as the weight of loneliness she’d carried all these years. By being with Gina, she’d made it worse, not better. As much as she’d enjoyed their time together—and she really, really did—she was just setting herself up for heartbreak all over again. She almost hadn’t survived her first broken heart. Now much older, and more emotionally mature, she was still certain she wouldn’t survive being hurt by Gina again.
And really, she knew this would happen, didn’t she? When she dropped her off, as they said their goodbyes, their hands touching, lingering, their eyes not letting go, she knew. Maybe they both knew that was all there’d be. Just one afternoon. That’s all it could be.
Ashleigh had to escape while her heart was still intact. She would leave in the morning, back to Houston, back to her friends ...and back to the job she hated.
Back to the life she hated.
Chapter Thirty
Present Day
Gina hesitated at the door, wondering if she should just leave. Ashleigh’s car was gone so obviously she wasn’t home. And seeing as it was after one in the afternoon, it should be obvious to her that Ashleigh didn’t want to see her today.
She knocked anyway. If nothing else, she would get Ashleigh’s cell number from her mother.
Mrs. Pence opened the door with a smile, tugging Gina inside. “I’ve been expecting you all morning.”
Gina frowned. “You have?”
“It’s a bit early for cocktails but I have some sweet tea. Will that do?”
Gina nodded and followed her into the kitchen. There was a white envelope on the counter with her name scribbled across it. She looked up, finding Mrs. Pence watching.
“It’s from Ashleigh,” she said. “Come. Let’s go out to the patio.” She handed Gina a glass and motioned to the envelope, which Gina snatched up.
“I take it this means she’s not here?”
“No. She left early this morning.”
Now Gina was really confused. She would have sworn Ashleigh said she was staying until Friday. Gina flipped the envelope over and over in her hands, finally opening it and pulling out the single sheet of paper. Yes, Ashleigh had indeed left. And no, she wasn’t interested in seeing Gina again. There was no phone number, no address, no invitation to get together again. Just a thank you for a wonderful day, a day Ashleigh attributed to old memories and familiar places clouding their judgment, taking them back in time. A day she would treasure, she said. But it was the last couple of lines that nearly broke Gina’s heart.
I doubt we’ll ever see each other again. I wish you nothing but happiness.
Gina folded the letter, holding it tightly in her hands. “Wow,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Probably not, no.” She pointed to the chair next to her.
“Have you read it?” Gina asked, sitting down.
Mrs. Pence shook her head. “I don’t need to read it to know what it says. I know my daughter.”
Gina let out a heavy breath. “I guess you know about us then.”
“I’ve never discussed it with Ashleigh, if that’s what you mean. Not back then and certainly not now. She wouldn’t allow it. But I always suspected, I guess. And when she came home from college, she was so heartbroken, so terribly hurt, I knew it wasn’t just some fling she’d had. I knew it was much deeper than that. It all made sense then.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what? For hurting my daughter?”
Gina shrugged. “We were kids. We fell in love, only it wasn’t a teenage kind of love. It was much more than that.”
They were silent for a moment, then Mrs. Pence glanced at her. “I was angry with you at first. We’d opened our house to you, included you in our family. I thought you must have taken advantage of her. It never once occurred to me that Ashleigh was a lesbian.” She laughed quietly. “A cheerleader and prom queen. No wonder she hated it so.”
“I didn’t take advantage of her. It was completely mutual.”
“Twenty something years ago. I’m not angry any longer, Gina. Ashleigh’s obviously gotten over it. I never thought she would. To see her so distraught, so despondent...well, we were afraid for her. We didn’t know anything about having a gay child. You read so much about suicide and all—”
“Oh my God, Ashleigh didn’t—”
“No, no. Nothing like that. But she was never the same afterward. Even now, she’s still so guarded about things. And not to place blame, Gina. I know there are two sides to every story, but I don’t think she’s allowed herself to trust anyone again. And certainly not you.”
No. Certainly not Gina. She could read between the lines. She knew Ashleigh’s letter was just a polite way to say no, she wouldn’t take a chance with her heart again. Certainly not with Gina, anyway.
“I don’t mean to pry, but I assume you were together yesterday. Perhaps rekindling some old feelings?”
Gina blushed and looked away, only to hear Mrs. Pence laugh quietly beside her. “I’m not an old prude, Gina. I have three very different children. And as closed and guarded as Ashleigh is with her life, Mark is quite the opposite, feeling the need to tell me every detail of his exploits. Besides, if I ran into an old lover who I still had feelings for, I’d most likely spend the day exactly like you did.”
“What do you mean, still had feelings for? Did Ashleigh say—”
“No. But she ran away again. It’s what she does. If I had to guess, her letter there was thanking you for a good time and wishing you a very happy rest of your life.”
“Pretty much, yes.”
“You wanted a different outcome?”
Gina stood, feeling embarrassed to be discussing this with Ashleigh’s mother. She paced, her eyes riveted on the pool, the glistening water reminding her of how they’d ended their day yesterday.
“Yes.” She turned, meeting her eyes. “Yes. I wanted a different outcome. I thought—however foolishly—that maybe we could see each other, try to start over.” She smiled, again embarrassed. “This probably isn’t something you want to hear, but the attraction we had in high school is still there. She still takes my breath away.”
“I would have to be blind not to see it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Gina, dear, when my husband, who rarely has a clue about these things, makes note of it...trust me, it’s there. Why else do you think Ashleigh ran?”
Gina held up the letter. “Well, obviously if she feels it, she doesn’t want to pursue it. And I don’t suppose I blame her.”
“Well, I try not to meddle in my children’s lives.” She smiled. “Never too old to start though. Do you have her cell number?”
Gina shook her head.
“Want it?”
“If you don’t mind...yes.”
Mrs. Pence laughed. “I’ve got cell, office, fax. Home address, work address. Her friend Pam’s number too. I think I’ve even got her boss’s number somewhere.”
Gina smiled. “Thank you. I...I just want a chance. Our breakup way back then was all my fault. It was stupid, childish and without communication. I think . . . well, I think we could have been good together. I think we still can.”
“Maybe you should tell that to her, not me.”
Gina nodded. “You’re right. And I will.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Twenty years earlier
Gina rolled over to h
er back, staring at the sky, now turning a pretty orange as the sun faded from view. She would miss this. Even though they’d have more time to be together, she’d miss their quick trips out here. She felt safe here. Just the two of them—no outsiders, no distractions. No one to come between them.
“What are you thinking about?”
Gina turned her head, the thick grass and weeds poking through the blanket against her cheek. She took a deep breath, then turned her gaze back to the sky. “I was thinking how much I’m going to miss this when we leave for college next month.”
“What? Sneaking off to my grandparents’ place?”
“Yes.”
Ashleigh laughed. “I thought you hated having to sneak around.”
“The whole concept of it, yes. But this, this is our spot. That tree right there, it’s like it’s guarding us.”
“The fact that we’ve been coming out here for nearly two years and we’ve not gotten caught, yeah, it must be guarding us.”
Gina rolled over to her side, pulling Ashleigh close against her. “Why do you suppose we’ve never been caught?”
“Because we pull off the best friends thing very, very well. And the super studious we want to go to college thing too.”
Gina lowered her head, finding Ashleigh’s bare breast, loving the quiet moan she heard when her mouth closed over it.
“I love you so much,” Ashleigh whispered, her hands now moving across Gina’s naked flesh, pulling her closer.
Gina raised her head, finding Ashleigh’s eyes, the sunset coloring the air around them. “I’ll always love you. You’re in my soul.”
“And you’re in mine.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Present Day
After washing the few dishes from their lunch, Gina went in search of Aunt Lou. She hadn’t actually explained why she was leaving early. And really, it wasn’t that she was rushing off to find Ashleigh. She wasn’t. She would give Ashleigh some time, give herself some time. But she didn’t want to stay in Calloway another day. She wanted to get back home, back to the coast. Smell the salt air, watch the pelicans dive into the surf, listen to the gulls. She wanted—needed—that peace she’d been able to find there. Something she never admitted to before, but the peace she felt was somehow associated with Ashleigh, at the place where they’d discovered their love. She could stand on the beach, watch the waves, and lose herself in long buried memories. Although they wouldn’t be so buried anymore. They would be fresh and new and right on the surface...and cut so much deeper than those etched in her teenaged mind.
“What are you doing?” she asked when she found Aunt Lou standing at a window, staring out into the backyard.
“Oh, I just filled the bird feeder and now those damn black birds are scaring my cardinals away.”
“Carly says not to mix the seeds. Grackles aren’t crazy about sunflower but they love the mixed seed. Cardinals prefer sunflower.”
“Oh, my. Since when did you learn something about birds? Or is this Carly a special friend?”
Gina laughed. “Carly and her partner, Pat, are good friends of mine. Carly’s a wildlife biologist. She’s taught me a thing or two.” Gina sat down on the sofa, waiting for Aunt Lou to join her. “Speaking of special friends, I wanted to share something with you.”
“Okay. Is this about a current special friend? I was under the impression you didn’t have those.”
“I don’t date very often, if that’s what you mean.” Gina leaned back on the sofa, wondering why she felt the need to confess to Aunt Lou about high school, about yesterday, about why she was leaving early. She turned to her. “There’s an underlying reason for that but I won’t go into all the emotional issues I may have,” she said, trying to make light of it. There was no reason for Aunt Lou to know of the horrid reputation she’d had in college—her whore dog days, as Tracy referred to them.
“Since you’re having a hard time spitting it out, I’ll assume it has to do with Ashleigh Pence.”
“You know?”
“About high school or yesterday?”
Gina feigned shock. “Why Aunt Lou, do you have spies out and about?”
“Of course not. But you and Ashleigh were inseparable in high school. And when you made it known you were gay and then you and Ashleigh became estranged...well, it was obvious to me.”
“Maybe we became estranged because she couldn’t handle my being gay,” Gina suggested.
“Which would be all well and good had not Ashleigh come back from college that first term, heartbroken and distraught... and a lesbian.”
Gina grinned. “Damn these small towns. Is nothing secret?” Aunt Lou looked away and Gina saw the opening she’d been waiting for all her adult life. “Of course, you had secrets too, didn’t you?”
“I don’t’ know what you mean.”
“Oh, come on. I’m not just a curious kid anymore. I’m a full grown woman. And you’re not just an old maid who never dated, never married.”
“Just because I never married—”
“Aunt Lou, I know what it’s like when you have to sneak around to be with someone you love. I did it for two years in high school. And you did it too. Your trips to San Antonio. The friend you’d have over for the weekend.”
“And you’re insinuating what?”
Gina reached over and squeezed her hand. “You know what I’m insinuating. I just don’t know why you felt the need to hide that from me. To still hide it. We’re kindred spirits in that regard, aren’t we?”
Aunt Lou got up suddenly, going back to stare out the window. “Why do you bring this up now? For what purpose?”
“Does there have to be a purpose? Why does our family just sweep things under the rug and never talk about anything? You shouldn’t have to go through your life alone. You shouldn’t have to hide this part of you.”
“You don’t understand.”
“No. Maybe not. We were a generation apart. Times change.”
“Exactly.”
Gina stood and went to the window too. “So who was she?” she asked casually.
“It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters. She was someone special to you. Yet you kept her hidden, kept her away. For fear of what, Aunt Lou? Fear your family would turn their back on you?”
“My family, the community, my job. My church.” Aunt Lou turned to face her. “Her name was Kathy. When I was younger, I used to go to San Antonio hoping to meet like-minded women. I didn’t dare go to a bar though. I took the safe route. There was a feminist bookstore and coffeehouse right at the edge of downtown, before the river became the centerpiece. I met her there.”
“And she’s the one you’d have over sometimes?”
“Yes. But I was so paranoid, it was hardly enjoyable. I had fears your parents would pop over unexpectedly. Or the neighbors would see her.”
“So you locked yourself inside and had wild sex for the weekend?”
“Gina Ann Granbury, I can’t believe you said that! Have you no shame?”
Gina laughed at the bright red blush that covered Aunt Lou’s face. “I’m sorry. It’s what I would have done.”
“I don’t doubt that, seeing how you disappeared yesterday.”
“Ashleigh and I got reacquainted, yes. But she left for Houston today without a word to me. Ran away, really.” Gina shrugged. “I guess because of what happened to us in the past, she’s got a little fear factor of her own.”
“What happened? I know you were awfully young but—”
“We were madly in love,” Gina said. “It was my fault. I let my insecurities get the best of me.” She waved her hand dismissively. “But that’s in the past. What’s here, right now, is that Ashleigh is single, I’m single, and we spent a wonderful day together yesterday. A day that, well, that I thought we could build on.”
“She doesn’t?”
“Well, she left. What does that say?”
“I guess you have two possibilities. One, she
’s not interested. Or two, she’s afraid.”
“I don’t like the first one. The second is not real pleasing either.” Gina held her aunt’s gaze. “What about your Kathy? Why did she stop coming around?”
Aunt Lou turned away and Gina thought she wasn’t going to answer her. Then she stopped, her voice quiet. “She got tired of waiting on me. She wanted me to move to San Antonio, move in with her.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“And do what? My life was here, my job, my family. What would I have told people?”
“Who cares? It’s your life, not theirs.”
“Well I couldn’t just up and move without an explanation.”
“So you lost someone you loved because you didn’t have an explanation to give people? That’s just crazy.”
Aunt Lou smiled sadly. “I always envied your independent streak, your devil-may-care attitude. I just never had that in me.”
“So you let her walk away? How long ago?”
“The last time I saw her was right before your parents divorced.” Aunt Lou folded her arms across her chest, her gaze again going out the window. “A long time ago.”
“And no one since?”
She shook her head. “I’m sixty-two. I’m past all that.”
Gina followed her gaze, landing on the bird feeder, the black grackles fighting for the seed, not a cardinal in sight. “I don’t want that to be me,” she said quietly. “I don’t want to wake up one day and be sixty-two and think it’s too late.”
“You won’t, honey. That’s why you’re leaving early, isn’t it? Because you don’t want that to happen to you?”
Gina nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry. I know we didn’t really have that much time together.”
“Don’t be silly. It was good to visit with you. Now, you go after that girl of yours.”
