Angela was in the front yard, working on a small flower bed she’d planted each of the years they’d lived together. She was in her usual gardening clothes: a nice pair of old khakis and a blouse that most people would think still had a lot of life left in it. But she was out there digging in the soil she’d built up with plenty of amendment to aid in the drainage. She gardened the way she did everything: carefully and properly. Regan stood on the corner, feeling exposed and vulnerable. Angela was just a hundred feet away, close enough to be able to hear a call. But Regan was never going to call her name again. Looking at Angela brought none of the heart-fluttering excitement she’d felt the first time she’d touched Callie’s cheek. Angela was a good woman. She’d made a terrible mistake, and Regan was sure she’d do more than her share of penance over it. But there was nothing left. No animosity, no rancor, no pull. The relationship was dead. The time for grieving was over. It was spring. The time of rebirth and renewal, and Regan was going to start her life again—unencumbered by the past.
*
Regan picked Callie up on Friday night. It was a cold and clear night, and the weekend was supposed to be the same.
Callie came running towards the car, carrying a big backpack. She was practically skipping, and Regan felt the familiar and now welcome thrumming of her heart when they made eye contact.
“I’m so excited!” Callie tossed her bag into the back and settled down in her seat. “Where are we going?”
“Tonight we’re going to New Hampshire. I found a nice place up I-95 that’s supposed to have great breakfasts. I know that eating is your favorite part of road trips, so I was very careful to take that into consideration.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Callie’s hand hover for a second over her leg, then retreat. They’d abandoned almost all of their physical affection, and it hurt to see that beautiful hand slip into the pocket of her coat.
“I didn’t eat anything, hoping we could stop somewhere cool. Will we have time?”
“We’ve got nothing but time. Our only agenda is to have fun.”
“That’s my favorite agenda.” Callie smiled and the warmth of her smile made the car feel cozy.
Chapter Twenty-four
They stayed on the interstate until they were halfway through New Hampshire. Regan pulled off the highway and followed some dim signs that indicated they were heading for U.S. 1.
After a mile or two they arrived at the inn, a small, tidy place that dripped New England charm. Regan looked around, very pleased with her choice. They checked in and went to their room, a spare but clean one with a very tall queen sized bed and a fire crackling in the small fireplace. When the innkeeper left them, Callie said, “This is probably the cutest place I’ve ever stayed. Would anyone notice if we knocked off the owner and just took her place?”
“Probably not.” Seeing the happiness in Callie’s eyes made her hours of work searching for perfection seem like a very good investment.
“Only one problem. Where can we eat? We didn’t pass a place for the last fifty miles.”
“We can eat right here.” Regan shucked her coat and tossed her big bag on the bed. Slowly she pulled out a couple of bags and a bottle of wine, presenting everything to Callie. “We’re going to have a little birthday repast right here.”
Callie squealed with delight. “Wonderful! What have we got?”
“A bunch of stuff you like.” They pulled a pair of comfy chairs up to the fire and put the bags on a small table. Regan opened them and placed cheeses, apples, pears, crackers and a tin of caviar before Callie.
Eyes wide, Callie took the tin and examined it. “I don’t think we’ve ever had caviar. How do you know I like it?”
“Because I like it,” Regan teased. “You like everything that’s good, so I assumed you liked it. And if you don’t…I’ll eat it all.”
“I love it!” Callie held the tin to her chest. “This is a great birthday.”
“Don’t forget the wine.” She pulled a corkscrew out and started to open a bottle of white wine. “This will go really well with the cheese and the caviar.”
Callie reached out and put her hand on Regan’s shoulder, then obviously thought better of the idea. She brushed her hand over her shirt. “Some lint,” she explained. “I’m glad I’m having my birthday with you. That makes it special.”
Regan wondered who had first backed away from showing the slightest physical affection? They’d lost so much of their precious familiarity. They had to be able to reclaim it, if only Callie was willing.
Regan got the cork out and poured two glasses half full. “To very happy birthdays,” she said, clinking their glasses together. “I hope you have a hundred more.”
“Only if you promise to come to my hundred and thirty-sixth birthday party.”
“I’ll put in on my calendar the minute I get home.” They touched their glasses together once again and each took a sip.
“That’s good,” Callie said, watching the wine coat the glass as she swirled it.
They dug into their meal, demolishing the cheese and caviar with ferocity. When they didn’t have a single cracker left, they slowly sipped their wine, slumped back into their chairs and watched the fire dance. “Nice meal,” Callie said, her voice softer and slower than usual. “Very…nice…birthday.”
“Oh! I forgot your presents.”
“Presents? I get presents?”
“Absolutely.” Regan got up and went to her bag, pulling out three gifts, each nicely wrapped. Handing them to Callie, she sat back down. “I hope they fit.” She peered at the flat rectangles, each about an inch think. “You wear a seven and a half, right?”
Callie rolled her eyes, then tore into the first one. “Awesome! A guide to plants in New England.” She started to thumb through the book, exclaiming over some striking examples of plants and flowers. “I’m crazy for reference books.”
“Then you’ll like the other two.”
She hugged the book to her body and spent a moment gazing at Regan. “The other two could be travel guides to Phoenix and I’d love them. The fact that you cared enough to bring me here is remarkably generous. Thanks, Regan. You made my day really special.”
“Aw, shucks. T’weren’t nuthin.” She grinned sheepishly.
“It’s a lot, and I’ll always remember this weekend.” She handed her the book. “Write the date and where we are in there. I like keepsakes.”
“Will do.” Regan got up and fetched a pen from her bag, sharing a smile with Callie as she sat down and started to write.
*
Their high, very fluffy featherbed made lying on it feel like being cuddled. Driving had obviously tired Regan out, since she fell asleep just minutes after lying down. But Callie lay there for quite a while, watching Regan sleep. The fire was almost out, throwing off just enough light to highlight Regan’s skin with a warm glow. She looked so pretty lying there. It was all Callie could do to stay on her side of the bed. Being with Regan was its own sweet torture. It was unfathomable that they’d never be lovers. But it was hard to hold out hope since they didn’t even hug any more. There was a hole in her heart that Regan could easily fill if only she would. But that was hoping for too much…even though that had been her only wish when she’d blown out the candle on her cupcake.
*
They traveled along the coast, spying glimpses of the sea, tiny islands in the distance, and craggy rocks being punished by the crashing waves. Callie was staring out the window so intently that she flinched when Regan spoke. “I was wondering how dating was going for you.”
“Huh? Were we talking about dating?”
“Uhm, no, but I was just wondering how it was going for you.” Damn! Could I have made that any more awkward? No, that’s about as bad as it could be.
Callie didn’t answer right away. With each tick of the clock Regan’s jaw clenched tighter.
“Why do you want to know?”
That was unexpected. Not the lighthearted way Callie usu
ally answered every query. “Well, I’m interested…in you…and how things are going for you. We haven’t talked about this…at all…so I don’t know.”
“Don’t know what?” Callie’s gaze was level, unblinking.
“I don’t know how things are for you. Are you seeing someone…a lot?”
“No. I just had a first date with someone last week. Remember?” Now her expression gentled and she showed a smile.
“Yeah, I remember. I might never forget that, as a matter of fact.”
“How about you?” Her eyes narrowed again, making Regan feel like she was under a microscope.
“No, no one…special.”
“How about unspecial? You never say what you’ve done on a Friday or Saturday night. I always assume you’re despoiling some innocent down on the Riviera.” Now her face bore its usual sunny smile, and her eyes twinkled like they always did when she was teasing.
“No, I haven’t despoiled a single soul. I…uhm…haven’t been on a date since, oh, probably November.”
“What?” Callie slapped her on the shoulder. “You’re lying!”
“No, I’m not. My friends stopped trying to set me up by November.”
“Why?” Now Callie’s expression showed the care and concern that was so easily tapped.
“Because I didn’t show any interest in the women they introduced me to.”
“Hmm.” She sat there, not speaking, not giving a thing away.
“Why haven’t you found anyone special yet? I know you’ve been…busy.”
“How do you know that?” The question wasn’t sharply spoken, but there was a slight narrowing of the eyes.
“Uhm…I’ve seen you at the gym a couple of times…with one woman in particular.”
“Oh, you have, have you? I’ve never taken anyone into the gym. How did you see me?”
She was busted. Well and truly busted. “I have to drive there, you know. I saw you getting out of a car.” The worst night of her life had been seeing Callie kiss that woman.
“Interesting. Anything else?”
“Well, I saw you saying goodbye to a woman once before we went for our Sunday run.” And had spent the rest of the day trying to ignore the only good reason she had to be with a woman so early on a Sunday morning.
“I’ve made some friends. But I’m still looking.” Her eyes narrowed briefly and she added, “I’m still wondering why you ask. You’ve never come anywhere near the topic.”
Regan took in a breath and tried to keep her voice from shaking. It was time to do it. But she couldn’t. It felt like yanking up on the stick right before the plane crashed into a mountain. She was flushed with relief…and disappointment in herself. “I think it’s time to start being more open…about things.”
“Things, huh?” Callie’s eyes were nearly burning a hole in her.
“Yeah. Uhm, things we’ve been thinking about.”
“What have you been thinking about?”
“Well, about a month ago I made a huge discovery.” Her voice sounded like a tightly strung violin string, and she felt a muscle twitch near her jaw. “I realized that I’d just gotten over Angela.”
“What does that mean?”
What did it mean? It was so hard to make concrete statements about something as slippery as emotions. “Delaney was harassing me about my chronic bad mood and I found myself telling her about Angela and Marina.”
“You’ve never told her?” Callie reached over and put her hand on Regan’s arm. Just having her hand there made the world seem like a very safe place.
“Nope. I told a couple of my girlfriends about Angela, but not my family. So when I finally did, Delaney said it didn’t surprise her that it’d taken me a year to get over Angela. That something like that always took a long time to heal.”
Callie’s expression bore the sad look she got whenever she talked about her heartbreaks. “It took me two years to get over Rob.”
“Yeah. That’s how long Delaney says it takes. A year or two.”
“In my case I spent the second year trying to domesticate Marina so I didn’t have time to think about losing Rob. I would have been better off by myself. I jumped from the frying pan into the fire.”
“Yeah, I can see how that happened.”
“You know, since we’re talking about things we’ve been thinking about, I’ve been going to another group.”
“Really? How do you have time?”
“It’s not hard. It’s actually easy to find time to do things that really matter.”
“Sounds serious.”
“Yeah, I suppose it is. It’s a group for people who’ve had a cheating lover.”
Regan snorted a laugh. “I bet it’s not hard to fill up a room.”
Joining in her laugh, Callie said, “Not hard at all. It’s been really good, to be honest. It’s led by someone getting her Ph.D. in psych at Harvard and everyone in the group wants to learn something. Know what I mean?”
“I guess so. Do you mean they’re serious about it?”
“More than that. They’re kinda fearless. We’re all encouraged to point out things that people might not realize. Hearing things from people who aren’t involved has been really helpful.”
“What’s been helpful for you?”
“There’s a woman in the group who annoys me. She’s perceptive, but kinda bitchy.”
“You don’t like bitchy.”
Callie chuckled. “No, I really don’t. But she pointed out something I needed to hear. She said she thought I tended to keep going when things were bad…even when I should stop and reassess.”
“Like how?”
“I was talking about how hard it was for me after Rob and I broke up, and she said it sounded like I told myself that people would cheat, so I might as well find someone who was really good at cheating.” She laughed, but it sounded sad. Regan snuck a quick look at her and saw the downcast look.
Gently, she said, “Do you think that’s true?”
“Yeah. I do. I should have spent a long time licking my wounds. But I tried to brush it off and keep going. The rules had changed: fidelity wasn’t going to happen, so I had to take what I could get and be happy with it.”
“Wow. That’s exactly what happened, isn’t it.”
“Yeah. She had a very good point.”
“It must have been really hard for you to have Marina cheat. Especially since you hooked up with her just to avoid that.”
“Yeah, it sucked, but it wasn’t the same.” Callie sounded strangely lighthearted.
“Why?”
“It should be obvious. I loved Rob. I would have happily married him and had kids. I wouldn’t have bought a big block of cheese with Marina. I didn’t do any long-term planning with her. None at all.”
Regan shot a look at her. “But you loved her. You were planning on being together forever, right?”
“Forever?” Callie spit out a laugh. “God no. In my therapy group we have to try to be honest about the past. Not my favorite thing. But I’ve done it. Last week I admitted that I hooked up with Marina for two reasons: one, to get out of Phoenix and two, to see how I liked being with a woman.”
“That’s it?” Regan’s voice broke.
“Yeah. That’s pretty much it. Being with her was like having someone you had no-strings-attached sex with. I wanted to love her, and I set things up so I could, but I also had a very convenient escape hatch.”
Regan’s head spun. Now some things made sense. Like why Callie hadn’t been devastated by the breakup. She’d anticipated it. “That sounds like a good group. What else have you learned?”
“I’ve learned that I know what I want in a partner, and I’m not going to take something that isn’t right just to keep going.”
It would have been a great time to make an overture. But it was terrifying. Too terrifying. Regan could only manage to nod her head at Callie’s comments and hope she got another opportunity.
Chapter Twenty-five
They stopped in
front of a large, tall house, shingled in an attractive warm brown.
“Is this where we’re staying?” The excitement in Callie’s voice made the expense worth every dime. The inn belonged on an ad for the glories of Maine. It was old, but shone like it had been lovingly buffed.
“Yep. Looks good, doesn’t it?”
“It looks awesome! Let’s go.”
A few minutes later Regan opened the door to their room. Sun spilled out of the room, and they had to shield their eyes to let them adjust from the darkness of the hallway. The place was gorgeous, beyond what she’d hoped for, and the room was expensive, much more than she’d ever paid for a hotel, but she wanted a place they’d always remember—one way or another.
The room had a large footprint, with a sloping ceiling where the roof dipped gracefully. A turret-style window looked out on the bay, and a pair of upholstered chairs flanked a large telescope on a wooden stand. The chairs were at the precise height to use the telescope to watch boats or birds or who knew what else might capture your attention.
The room was decorated only in white, and contained virtually no knick-knacks. But the wide-plank maple floors and the big windows made the space seem warm and open, yet still cozy.
Callie fell back onto the bed with her arms spread out. “This is the nicest bed in the nicest room I’ve ever been in.” She rolled onto her belly, stretching like a cat. “Even though there are a hundred things I want to do, I feel like taking a nap.”
Regan sat down next to her. “That’s probably because you’ve eaten three times already. Your poor stomach doesn’t know what hit it.”
“I couldn’t let you drive past a lobster shack with a long line, could I?”
Doublecrossed Page 24
