Doublecrossed

by Susan X Meagher

  “Is it a party?” Her heart was hammering so hard in her chest she could almost hear it. “Lots of people?”

  “No. Just four I think. Yeah, just four.”

  “Oh. Do you know all of the people?”

  Regan’s voice was so tight that she barely sounded like herself. “I know the people having the party. They’re a couple.”

  “Well, I can see why you wouldn’t want to have to get up so early on Saturday. I’ll let you know how this goes. Maybe we can do it another time. Oh, my phone is ringing. I think I have another call. Yeah, I have another call. Talk to you later.” She hung up and threw her phone across the room where it mercifully landed against her pillows. Then she went to her bed and picked up the saving pillow and started to swing it over her head, slamming it against the wall with all of her might. Her arms ached by the time she sat down and finally allowed herself to feel the ache in her heart. Regan had moved on. She was gone forever.

  *

  After a while Callie felt like she was able to think clearly so she called Terri, who answered her cell phone with a happy, “Hi there!”

  “Hi.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Regan is going on a date.” She could feel the emotion in the back of her throat like a knot. But she was determined not to cry.

  “A date? Are you serious?”

  “Don’t I sound serious?”

  “Oh, Callie, that sucks.”

  “Yeah. That’s about the right word for it. Three weeks ago she tells me she loves me with all her heart but can’t be with me, and now she’s ready to start dating. Her heart must be a lot bigger than mine, because I’m barely able to feed myself.”

  *

  That weekend was one of the loneliest Callie could ever recall having. She’d made friends in Cambridge, but no one that she yet considered a close confidant. That was a role she’d given exclusively to Regan. And now that she’d been unceremoniously shunted aside, she didn’t have anyone local to turn to. She called her father, and he did his best to console her, but she needed more than he could give. She barely got out of bed on Sunday, a habit she found she reverted to when she was depressed. Regan called several times, but she wasn’t in the mood to talk to her. She didn’t have the stomach to hear about her date, and nothing else mattered at the moment.

  The thought of Regan dating was repulsive. The conjured image of her with another woman made her brain hurt. Regan had revealed a part of herself that was so discordant, it had to be unreal. But it wasn’t. This wasn’t something imagined. These were Regan’s words and actions, and they made her want to forget she’d ever known her and never think about her again. Both urges were impossible.

  *

  Callie was tempted to skip her weekly pool match, but she knew she had to get out and interact with people, so she went. They started at nine and by eleven she felt like the ice had finally thawed from the muscles in her face. She was smiling and even laughing a little at the vaguely ribald jokes that floated around the table. They were almost through for the night when the door opened and Regan entered. She stayed right in front of the door, her eyes darting around until they landed on Callie. For the first time since she’d known her, Regan looked not only nervous, but frightened. Callie’s ire rose in her throat. She wanted nothing more than to stride across the room and slap her as hard as she could. She’d never felt a stronger urge to hurt someone than she did now.

  At this point, all she had was her pride, and she was suddenly determined to regain what little she had left. “Hey,” she called out, drawing her fellow players’ attention. “My friend Regan’s here.”

  The other women looked over and nodded or said hello. The relief on Regan’s face was clear to anyone paying the slightest attention. She walked over to Callie and said, “How are you?”

  “Good. Fine.” She was using all of her self-respect to smile and look friendly. “I’ve had a busy week. Sorry I couldn’t make time to talk.” She shrugged her shoulders. “You know how it is.”

  Regan didn’t respond. Her eyes were hooded and she clearly didn’t share Callie’s decision to act like everything was fine. “Do you have time for a drink?”

  “Sure.” They started to walk towards the bar. “I finished the project I was working on, so I’m breathing easier now.” They sat on stools and Callie signaled the bartender. “Two more, Mallory,” she said, holding up her empty. Her stomach was tied in knots, but she was determined to continue the facade of normalcy. “An ale’s okay with you, right?”

  “Sure.” Regan didn’t say another word until after their beers were delivered and she’d taken a first sip. “I wanted to talk to you, and since you wouldn’t answer…”

  “Hey,” Callie interrupted. “I get busy. Don’t take it personally. If you’d said it was an emergency, I would have called you right back.”

  “Okay.” Regan’s head was drooping, and she looked like she didn’t know what to say.

  “It’s nice of you to come up here, but you didn’t need to. We’re fine.” She pasted on a smile that she assumed looked false, but it was the best she could come up with.

  “We are?” Regan tentatively met her eyes, doubt nearly glowing from them.

  “Sure. Why wouldn’t we be?” She’d thrown that little land mine out there, daring Regan to run or throw it back.

  Choosing the safest path, Regan shook her head slightly. “Okay. You’ll let me know if we’re not, right?”

  “Right.” Callie picked up her hand and started to put it on Regan’s shoulder, but it was as if a force field stopped her cold. It dropped limply to her side. “You look tired,” she managed.

  “Yeah. I am. I haven’t been sleeping.”

  Suddenly, Callie was filled with regret. Regan hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d never led her on. If anything, she’d been extremely cautious with Callie’s feelings. All she’d promised was that she’d always be a good friend. Nothing more. Seeing her look so sad, so worn down, made Callie feel that she hadn’t been the same. Without allowing herself time to stop her instinct she turned and slid her arms around Regan’s waist and held her. She got to her feet, shoving the stool away to be able to grasp her firmly. Regan nearly fell into her arms, nuzzling her face against Callie’s neck, wetting her skin with her tears. “It’s all right,” Callie crooned. “We’ll be fine. We’ll get through this.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you. I swear that. I tried so hard not to.”

  “It’s okay,” Callie soothed, knowing in her soul that it wasn’t, and never would be.

  *

  A new pattern emerged. Regan started calling in the middle of the week to propose a movie or a game or dinner. Each time caught Callie off guard. But she almost always accepted, and within a month they’d settled into the new scheme. Now they saw each other on Tuesday or Wednesday night and Sunday. Every Sunday, without fail, they met for their organized run with their club. And by the end of September, Callie was comfortable with what Regan was willing to give. It wasn’t what she wanted, it wasn’t what she needed, but one day, while talking to Terri, she realized she’d finally accepted the situation. “I guess I’ve got to get off my butt and try to find someone to go out with.”

  “Yep. You need to do that. It’s the only way you’re gonna perk up.”

  “I know. But I don’t have much energy for it.”

  “You never have a hard time attracting people, so use some of that charm and start going on dates. They don’t have to be life-changing. Just go out.”

  The more Callie thought about it, the more Terri’s advice made sense. She needed to get a few dates under her belt to start feeling like herself. Regan had knocked her self-esteem into a pit, and she was going to have to dig her way out of it.

  *

  The first date was hard. Callie actually felt sorry for the poor woman, a friend of one of the women on her pool team. Melody seemed like a perfectly nice person, but Callie felt no spark, no excitement. She looked at her watch much more than was polite
while they were having dinner, but she honestly just wanted it to be over. She was actually relieved when Melody pulled up to her apartment, didn’t bother getting out of the car, and ended the date with a rather unenthusiastic “I guess I’ll see you around,”

  She watched the car pull away, feeling empty. The loss of an evening wasn’t important, but it seemed like so much work to find a lover. And there was no guarantee she’d ever find one much better than Marina. And that thought was seriously depressing.

  *

  She wouldn’t have predicted it, but Callie got past the first few dates and then started enjoying herself. There was something appealing about being free to have just what you wanted. A woman shows bad manners at a restaurant? Dump her. She tries to keep you out late on a Saturday night and thinks training for a marathon is silly? Don’t return her calls. She thinks an evening at the symphony and discussing poetry is the peak of perfection? Lose her number. She might not find love, but she didn’t have to waste more than one date with someone who didn’t appeal to her in every way that was important. That was a small victory, but it had to be enough. It simply had to.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  In early November, Regan called Callie to arrange where to meet for the Sunday run. “Hey, while I have you on the phone, I wanted to ask about your Thanksgiving plans.”

  “I don’t think I have any. I’m going to go to Phoenix for Christmas, but Thanksgiving is always kind of a downer. My dad’s got a new girlfriend and they’re going on a cruise, so Dallas is out. Gretchen goes to her husband’s family and now that Emily has a boyfriend she might be going with his.”

  “What about your mom?”

  “Eww. That’s the bad part. I hate to leave my mom alone, but she can spend it with her sister’s family. I know I’m being selfish but I hate to spend the holiday feeling like I want to jump off a bridge.”

  “You shouldn’t have to. We want you to come spend it with us. The restaurant’s open, but we close really early. As soon as we get rid of the customers, we have our own celebration. It’s always fun, and it would be even better if you were there.”

  Callie could feel herself choking up, but she managed to keep her voice level when she said, “I’d love to.”

  *

  As Regan had promised most of the customers vacated the Scituate Inn by 5:00 on Thanksgiving day. The few stragglers were loyal customers who were on a first name basis with everybody. It was an odd way to celebrate a holiday, but Callie decided she really liked it. They moved tables around until they had three long ones. All of the Mannings were there and most of the servers and cooks brought their families. There must have been close to sixty people and with everyone making full use of the bar, it was a rowdy time.

  Alana had finished cooking and came out to make herself a drink right when Callie was getting a beer. “How do you like our Thanksgiving?”

  “I love it. I really love it. It’s more like a party, and I love parties.”

  Alana leaned over and said softly, “So who are you dating? I can’t get any information out of Regan.”

  Without thinking, Callie automatically said, “No one special. I’m just shopping.”

  Alana looked surprised. “I assumed you were seeing somebody seriously since you’re not here on the weekends anymore.”

  “No, no one special. I’m just saying yes to any single woman in the greater Boston area.”

  Alana took a quick look at her sister across the room. “You guys are getting along, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah. Sure. We’re getting along great.”

  Looking puzzled, Alana said, “Then come down more often. We all love having you here.”

  “Thanks. I feel very much at home here.” That was true. Even with both of them dating other people, there was no one she felt more at home with than Regan. She was a fantastic friend, and the fact that she’d also be a fantastic partner if she would wise up couldn’t negate that. She was who she was and that was enough.

  *

  The Friday after Thanksgiving was one of the slowest days of the year at The Scituate Inn. Very few deliveries were scheduled, since they expected a slow weekend too. Regan was trying to use the day to catch up, but she wasn’t being very productive. She’d been in the kitchen a couple of times, looking for a snack that she didn’t seem able to find, then she wandered around behind the bar, idly examining their liquor supply.

  She’d been back in her office for a half hour when Delaney came in and caught her shopping for running shoes. “Ha!” she said when Regan tried to close the window. “I’ve finally caught you goofing off!” She stood behind Regan’s chair and put her hands on her shoulders. “When are you going to talk to one of us about what’s going on with Callie?”

  Wanting to escape her sister’s questions, Regan tried to push her chair backwards, but Delaney blocked the casters with her foot, effectively trapping her. “I have to go to the bathroom,” she lied.

  “You could have gone one of the twenty times you’ve been wandering around. Now tell me what’s going on.”

  “Nothing.” She said this with such finality that Delaney moved around to the front of the desk and sat down so she could see Regan’s face.

  “Mom and Alana and I talked about you last night and it’s obvious to us that things aren’t the same between you two. Add that to the fact that she doesn’t come down on the weekends anymore and something’s up. Did you fight?”

  “No.” She paused. “Well, yes, but not recently.”

  “More details, please.”

  Sighing dramatically, Regan said, “You know I don’t like to talk about my love life.”

  “I know that. We all know that. But you’ve been in a funk for weeks. Tell me what’s got you so down.”

  Regan picked up her stapler and started to examine it like she was going to build a scale model as soon as Delaney left the room. “I’m not really down. I’m…I guess I’m resolved.”

  “Resolved to be grouchy and moody?”

  She shot her sister a glare. “No, finally resolved that Callie isn’t right for me.”

  “I’m perplexed. Didn’t we have this discussion before?”

  “Yes, we did. But I’m still stuck on her.”

  “Weird. Mom and I think you’re just not over Angela yet.”

  Regan put the stapler down and lazily flipped her hand in the air. “She’s barely crossed my mind. Other than to use her as a reminder to never get into a situation where I could hook up with another cheater.”

  “And you think Callie’s a cheater?”

  With her head rapidly shaking, Regan said, “No, she’s not. There’s other stuff. Stuff I don’t want to talk about.”

  “Well, Mom and I both know you pretty well, and we think you’re just gun-shy. It didn’t dawn on me that you’d crossed Callie off your list. Especially when she stares at you like you’re a circus act when you move around the room.”

  “She does not. I finally got up the nerve to tell her we don’t have a future. It’s over between us.”

  Delaney stood up and moved over to the doorway. “Well, at least you were honest. I’m glad you got it over with.”

  “Yeah.” She felt like she’d eaten something very acidic, the way her stomach felt much of the time recently. “At least I did that.”

  “Well, did our little talk help?”

  “Yeah.” Regan’s lack of enthusiasm was pronounced. “I feel great now.”

  “Any time. No charge. Just quit moping!”

  *

  Regan wasn’t able to stop thinking about Callie, but she was able to keep her heartache to herself. She accepted a few more blind dates just to stay in the game, and hustled out of the restaurant as soon as she could each day, resolved to keep her feelings where they belonged—in her heart. She wanted Callie as much as she ever had, but she couldn’t bear the thought of pledging her heart to a woman who’d settled for so little. Callie seemed like a well-adjusted person. But no one who had her head on straight would have g
otten into the arrangement she had. No matter how great she seemed, Regan couldn’t marry and have children with someone who wasn’t a good role model. It wasn’t fair to anyone involved. It would take time, but next time she’d get it right. Next time it would be for life. As soon as she could flush Callie from her system, she’d get busy and find her mate.

  *

  Callie and Regan decided to celebrate Christmas on December twenty-third. Because it was a Saturday and Regan had the day off, she came up to Cambridge to spend the day until she took Callie to the airport for her evening flight to Phoenix.

  Callie opened the door with a big kitchen towel tucked into her slacks, an improvised apron. “Come on in.”

  “I smell something good. I was wondering what we were going to do for food,” she teased. “Pizza doesn’t seem very Christmassy.”

  “No, it isn’t. I know this isn’t a New England specialty, but I know you’ll like it.”

  Regan went into the kitchen and started lifting the tops off pans and sniffing at them. “This looks and smells great.”

  “I know you like Mexican food, so I thought we would have kind of a traditional Mexican Christmas feast. One thing I learned in Dallas is how to cook Tex-Mex.”

  “That’s really thoughtful of you. I thought we’d just go out and grab a burger.”

  “No way. You’ve done so much for me this year, the least I can do for you is make you a nice meal. That didn’t sound right,” she said, laughing. “A meal won’t make up for all that you’ve helped me do.”

  “Hey, if I’d been paying for a therapist I’d be in the hole for about twenty thousand dollars. You helped me get through the toughest time of my life so far.”

  “Well, then let’s call it even. But helping me move to a place that feels like home for the first time in my life was a really big gift.”