by Sarah Markel
Huffing out a breath, Lorelei fisted her hands on her hips and glanced around the kitchen. She’d finished cleaning up the house, which wasn’t hard since she had a habit of cleaning as she went. The baked beans were keeping warm in a crock-pot, while a freshly made apple brown betty cooled on the counter. Homemade potato salad and coleslaw were chilling in the fridge beside a pitcher of sweet tea and a fresh lemon whipped cream she’d made to top their dessert.
Lorelei had many talents, but there were a few that were only revealed to those closest to her. Her friends and coworkers could go on for days about Lorelei’s knack for sports, her eye for art, or her ear for music, but there were only four people in the world who had the honor of knowing how masterful the redhead was in the kitchen.
Aside from Aspen, only Lorelei’s brother and Jenica and Cordy Weston knew about the woman’s culinary aptitude. Josh got to experience it whenever he got the chance to visit his baby sister on leave, which was something Lorelei always looked forward to. A bad day for Jenica had been saved by Lorelei’s help in the kitchen, thus cementing a life-long friendship between Lorelei and the older couple.
Lorelei set a timer for the ribs, grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge, and made her way out to the back porch. She flopped down onto the porch swing and frowned at her phone as she sent Aspen yet another text.
Did practice run late? I’m starting to worry, babe, let me know what’s going on. I love you.
She tossed her phone on the swing beside her, not wanting to know if she was going to be left on read again. When several moments passed without a reply, Lorelei huffed out a breath and pushed off, swinging herself slowly as she stared dejectedly into the patchy, snow covered backyard.
She wasn’t sure how long she stayed like that; slouched down in the swing like a pouting child, but the sudden appearance of Cordy Weston startled Lorelei enough to realize that the sun was beginning to set.
“Isn’t it the wrong time of year for a barbecue?” Cordy asked in confusion. She inhaled deeply, her eyes sliding closed as she savored the aromas wafting out of Lorelei’s kitchen. “Are those Texas ribs?”
Lorelei nodded, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “They’re Aspen’s favorite. I made her favorite dinner tonight, to celebrate the end of the term.”
Cordy let out an approving whimper and sat on the swing beside her friend. “You two still fighting?” she asked, lacing her fingers behind her head and joining Lorelei in her perusal of the darkening yard. It was just a guess, but since the younger redhead was sitting outside in the cold, and not inside the house snuggled up with her cheerleader, the Lieutenant didn’t have to work too hard to put the pieces together.
“I guess so,” Lorelei replied with a soul-deep sigh, glancing balefully at the phone on the seat beside her, “I’ve texted her a dozen times since this morning, and she hasn’t replied to any of them.”
“Maybe she just needed a chance to calm down?” Cordy suggested diplomatically, “Reevaluate and look at things with a different perspective.”
Lorelei’s brows drew together and she slowly turned to look at her friend. “You do know my wife is eighteen, right?”
Cordy snorted. “I’d heard a rumor or two to that effect, yeah.”
“If you were an eighteen-year-old and your wife had been putting off your sexual advances for almost a month, would you, at any point, stop to reevaluate and look at things from a different perspective?”
Cordy’s eyes bulged comically and she punched Lorelei in the thigh when the younger redhead laughed. “Shut up, asshole,” she grumbled, “If I was eighteen and Jenica was putting me off for over a month, she’d be my ex-wife.”
Lorelei’s eyebrow raised, but Cordy simply shrugged. “I was impulsive and short-tempered when I was eighteen,” she explained, “I would regret it later, because Jenica is the absolute love of my life, but if there was that much distance between us before we hit our first anniversary, I wouldn’t stick around.”
“Even if it were for the same reasons that I’ve been keeping Aspen at bay?” Lorelei challenged. She didn’t like that Cordy’s argument made sense, and she was hoping that at least someone, other than her father-in-law, would side with her.
Cordy started to reply, but stopped short and pressed her lips together in thought. She knew what she wanted to say, but she also knew that her words, if not chosen very carefully, could potentially end their friendship. Cordy wasn’t a wordsmith, and she rarely hated her lack of finesse when it came to personal conversations. She suddenly found herself wishing Jenica were there to help.
“Okay,” she finally said, hoping she could muddle through, “I’m going to do my best to explain my point of view, but I need to ask a couple of questions, and I want you to remember that you are my friend, and I value our friendship, all right?”
Lorelei’s eyebrow arched again, but she nodded her head slowly. “Okay?” she replied, drawing the word out hesitantly.
“You’ve stopped having sex with your wife because you want her to focus on her school work so she can graduate and stop her parents from inheriting the money her grandfather left her, right?”
Lorelei nodded. “It’s a little more convoluted, but that sums it up, yeah.”
Cordy waved a hand dismissively. “The details don’t really matter. I’m just making sure that I fully understand the gist of the situation. So, Aspen failed her quarter-term math test, but the teacher agreed to let her redo it and use the better of the two grades as the overall grade for the final score at the end of the term, right?”
Lorelei nodded again, adding in the clarification that her and Aspen’s road to celibacy began after the failed math test, and that Aspen agreed to it as well.
Cordy turned sideways, tucking one leg under her so she could face her friend on the swing. “So, you and your wife made an agreement with her father to keep the sex to a minimum until after she passed the makeup test. Don’t you find it a bit odd that her father; her champion, her hero, the one who supports her despite her own mother’s hateful stance, would want any say at all in his married daughter’s sex life?”
Lorelei’s face flamed and she grabbed her phone, fidgeting with the device as she shifted to match Cordy’s position. “He didn’t,” she admitted, not wanting the Lieutenant to think poorly of her father-in-law, “Ambrose isn’t the one who suggested it; I did.”
Cordy’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Why the fuck would you suggest something so stupid?” she blurted.
Lorelei’s embarrassment fled, the pink tint in her cheeks darkening slightly as defensive anger took over. “Because getting my rocks off isn’t nearly as important as my wife’s education,” she replied coolly.
Cordy raised her hands in supplication. “Down girl, I wasn’t saying otherwise. But what made you think that withholding sex would help Aspen focus on schoolwork?”
Lorelei crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged. “Removing the distraction allows for greater focus. We were having sex nearly every free moment we had and she failed her test. We tried limiting sex to bedtime, but she still wasn’t managing enough time to study, so we stopped having sex all together. No more excuse not to focus.”
Cordy stared at her friend, speechless. Does she really believe that shit? I don’t blame Aspen for being pissed off! If I were in her shoes, I’d have lost my mind ages ago.
“Do you find your wife attractive?” she asked, once she could finally form words.
Lorelei reared back as if slapped. “Of course, I do! Aspen is the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.”
“Then how have you managed to be near her, sleep next to her, live in the same house with her, and not answer the call she’s making?”
Lorelei’s eyes narrowed and she huffed. “It’s been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” she replied honestly, “I want her every minute of every day, Cordy. She’s on my mind all the time, no matter where I am or what I’m doing. But I can’t be the reason she’s distracted. If she doesn�
�t graduate, her mother wins, and Aspen will always carry around the stigma of failing to earn her Grandfather’s pride.”
“Aspen adored her Grandfather, and he adored her. When I asked Ambrose for Aspen’s hand, Talia; being her spiteful, vindictive self, made a snide comment just to hurt Aspen,” Lorelei’s face suffused with heat, making her cheeks practically glow in the warm light of the porch.
“She implied that by marrying me, Aspen was nothing more than some lesbian whore, condemning herself to fail high school and disappoint her beloved Grandfather. Then she proceeded to point out that by failing to graduate, Aspen’s trust fund would revert to them, which would be the only thing that would make her existence worthwhile.”
“That’s why her success is so important, Cordy. I don’t give two fucks about the money; I have plenty of money to support the both of us, even if she never works a day in her life. But letting her mother bask in the glory of her own self-righteousness? I can’t do it. I can’t let my wife go through life regretting the times we spent in bed when she should have been studying.”
“I don’t want my libido to be the reason my wife resents me,” Lorelei finished, tears shining in her eyes as her closely guarded emotions began to unravel. Lorelei wasn’t one to cry when she was upset, but Cordy wasn’t just Lorelei’s best friend; she was the closest thing Lorelei ever had to a caring mother-figure.
Cordy saw the younger woman’s inner turmoil reflected in the tears; Lorelei was trying so hard to do what she felt was right, and she just needed someone to reassure her. Kicking herself for not realizing how lost her friend had been feeling, Cordy reached over and pulled Lorelei into a firm embrace. The moment Cordy’s arms were around her, the dam broke and Lorelei’s tears spilled over.
***
“Aspen?”
Aspen looked over her shoulder and offered Jenica a half-hearted wave. She’d been sitting on the stone half-wall that separated their front yards for the past ten minutes, waiting for Cordy to go home. She’d seen the Lieutenant cross through the gate into her back yard, and assumed the woman had been lured by the tantalizing aroma of Aspen’s favorite food.
Aspen had smelled the ribs from close to a block away, and her stomach rumbled happily all the way home. Aspen’s day had started out awful, but once she received Lorelei’s first text that morning, her day seemed to turn itself around. She couldn’t wait to tell Lorelei about it, but she wanted to do so without an audience.
“What are you doing out here, taku iti?” Jenica asked, joining Aspen at the wall, “Aren’t you freezing?”
Aspen shrugged, smiling automatically at the term of endearment. “I’m a little chilly, but not too bad,” she replied honestly, “My legs don’t get cold easily. As long as I’ve got my coat on, I could be out here in my underwear and be fine.”
Jenica couldn’t stop the shiver that wracked her from head to toe. “That’s unnatural, Aspen,” she teased, hugging her arms around herself, “Why are you out here, instead of inside with Lorelei?”
Aspen blushed and she hoped that the shadows cast by the setting sun would be enough to hide the tint from her friend’s eyes. “I was on my way in there a few minutes ago,” she admitted, “but I saw Cordy go into my yard, and I figured I would give the two of them a chance to visit before I go in.”
Jenica nodded and took a moment to study the young blonde. Aspen seemed nervous, almost unable to physically hold still. Aspen’s dangling feet bounced back and forth against the stone wall, and the fingers of her right hand tapped an unheard beat against her knee. Her left hand was busy too, her thumb worrying her wedding ring in an endless loop around her slim finger.
“Right, then,” Jenica finally said, deciding to take the bull by the horns, “Come inside with me. I can see there’s something on your mind, iti, but I’m freezing my ass off out here.”
Aspen laughed and climbed off the wall, following quickly behind as Jenica practically ran up to the door.
“Don’t they have snow in New Zealand?” she asked, kicking the toe of her boots on the top step to clear off the little bit of snow that clung to them.
Jenica opened the door and led them inside. “Taku iti, I was born in Whangarei and grew up in Wellington. Those are the only two cities I lived in, and both are located on the coast. No, we didn’t have snow. There was snow in some places, but not any that I went. I didn’t even see snow for the first time until I moved here.”
Aspen shucked her coat and kicked off her shoes, setting them beside Jenica’s. “Wow, what was that like? I’ve always been around snow in the winter, so I’m curious to hear your perspective.”
Jenica chuckled and made her way into the kitchen. She grabbed the kettle off the stove and set about making some tea. “Well, you have to remember that the seasons are different here. December in New Zealand is smack dab in the middle of summer, so while you lot grew up having snowball fights and building snowmen on Christmas, I was going surfing and working on my tan.”
“The first time I saw snow, I was at college in Salem.” Jenica set the kettle on the stove and motioned for Aspen to join her at the table. “I was so awestruck by it that I zoned out during a lecture in biology. I spent the entire class just staring out the window at these huge, fluffy flakes falling from the sky. It was mesmerizing. As soon as the class was over, I went outside and just stood there.”
Aspen smiled. She’d seen pictures of Jenica in college, and she could imagine the young foreigner standing on the main lawn of Willamette University, surrounded by a thick blanket of freshly fallen snow with a look of awe on her face.
“How long were you out there?” she wondered.
Jenica snorted. “About ten minutes,” she admitted. “I’d only been in the States for a few months, and my body wasn’t quite used to the weather. My body was used to December meaning sunshine and heat, and it didn’t like the cold. Winter was just ending when I left home, so my internal thermometer had no idea what was going on.”
“Is it weird for you now when you go back home?” Aspen wondered. She knew Jenica had been in the States for over a decade, and she was curious if the acclimation got easier.
“For a few days, sure,” Jenica replied with a fond smile, “but I’m not one who likes to be cold, so Cordy and I usually make the trip when it’s winter here. It’s much easier for me to adjust to the warmer weather.”
When the kettle whistled, Jenica prepared two cups and brought them to the table. Aspen accepted hers with a grateful smile. The pair sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying their tea as it helped to warm their chilled bodies.
“So, have you and Lorelei made up then?” Jenica asked, her tone casual despite already having an inkling as to the answer.
Aspen stiffened. “What do you mean?” she asked, dropping her gaze to study the dregs of tea in the bottom of her cup.
Jenica saw the immediate embarrassment and moved to assuage it. She remembered what it was like in the first years of her marriage, and how difficult it was to open up to someone when she and Cordy had a fight. Jenica knew Aspen had plenty of friends, some she probably talked to a lot more than she did to Jenica, but none of those friends understood how to navigate the sometimes-treacherous waters of married squabbles.
“Iti,” she said softly, reaching out to run her fingers softly over Aspen’s arm, “Where did you think Lorelei went when she left the house?”
Aspen felt a knot begin to form in the pit of her stomach. How much did she tell them? Swallowing hard, she tried to shrug off Jenica’s curiosity. “I just figured she went for a walk. We’re fine, though. Married people fight, right? It’s not the end of the world, so nobody wants to hear about my marital troubles.”
Jenica frowned at the blonde’s cold, flat delivery. She’d obviously heard that statement before, and probably more than once if the ease with which it rolled off her tongue was any indication.
“That’s not true,” she said carefully, watching Aspen’s body language as she spoke, “Yes; married people fi
ght, but that doesn’t mean you can’t talk about it with someone who’s not involved. Tell me what’s happened. I heard Lorelei’s side, so tell me yours. Maybe it will help you feel a little less anxious. Besides, maybe I can help.”
Aspen’s lips pursed as she chewed the inside of her cheek. She wanted to talk to Jenica; hell, she idolized the woman, but she couldn’t stop her father’s words from replaying in her brain.
“No one wants to listen to someone whine about a fight with their spouse, Aspen,” Ambrose told his twelve-year-old daughter, “Things like that ruin friendships. Fighting with your husband or wife isn’t the end of the world, so no one will want to hear about it. Besides, conversations like that are how rumors and drama get started.”
Aspen’s parents had just had a major argument, and the young girl had cornered her father in his study as he poured himself a healthy shot of cognac. Aspen had asked him how he dealt with the arguments, because she and her best friend had been fighting a lot lately. He’d simply held up the glass and tipped it back and forth, indicating that drinking was his preferred way of handling a row with Talia.
“You know, iti,” Jenica tried, sensing the source of Aspen’s hesitation, “When Cordy and I first married, we fought frequently.”
Jenica grimaced and nodded somberly at Aspen’s surprised look. “It’s true. We loved each other dearly, but we fought about the most mundane things. Cordy is very chivalrous and gallant; always doing little things for me to show her love and appreciation. I’m incredibly independent and hate it when people do things for me that I can easily do for myself.”
Aspen snickered. She’d witnessed Cordy’s acts of chivalry and gallantry before; it was one of the many things Lorelei and Cordy had in common.
“You laugh,” Jenica said, cutting her eyes at her friend, “but Cordy and I fought about it all the time. There were even a few times that one of us left. I may not be a redhead, but I’ve got a temper, too. If it hadn’t been for our friends, Gibson and Nora, I don’t think Cordy and I would still be married.”
