Skyler was seated with her long legs stretched out along the lounger and Jessica tucked between them, resting her back against Skyler’s chest. A woman approached and held out a fresh beer for Skyler while Jessica chatted with another guest. Skyler started to reach for the beer with her heavily bandaged left hand, then extended her right hand instead. What the…
*
Leah had been pleased when Gram led Tory over, but surprised at the wave of pleasure she felt.
When she pulled Tory close, she told herself it was only the old reporter’s trick—up your credibility with a group of people you don’t know by associating yourself with someone they do know. She didn’t want to think about how solid Tory’s shoulder felt when she laid her cheek against it. She didn’t want to think about the light scent of raspberries and vanilla she was beginning to associate with Tory’s presence. She didn’t want to think about the sudden loss she felt when Tory pulled away from her to confront Skyler.
“What in the world have you done to yourself?” Tory demanded.
Skyler, her eyes a bit glassy, held up her left hand. “This? Oh, it’s just a nick. Just a slip of the hoof knife and blood was everywhere.”
Leah was amused by the silly grin on Skyler’s face as she looked up at Tory. She was impressed with Jessica’s choice for a partner. Skyler was a handsome woman, obviously in love with Jessica and adorable when she was a bit drunk.
“That’s your left hand.” Tory frowned.
Skyler stared at her hand for a moment. “I’ll be damned. I thought I had two right hands.”
“You know what I mean.”
Jessica shook her head. “I told her not to drink beer after taking a pain pill.”
“S’okay,” Skyler slurred. “I’m not dancing, I mean driving.”
“It’s a good thing, sweetie, because I think you’re a little toasted. Tory was just pointing out that hand is your dominant one.” Jessica sat up so she could twist around and see Skyler’s face.
“S’okay.” Skyler leered at her lover and stuck out her tongue. “My other parts still work fine.”
Leah laughed, but Jessica playfully slapped Skyler’s leg. “Behave, or I’ll put you to bed.”
“Is that a promise?”
Tory’s frown deepened. “Exactly how much damage did you do there? Chincoteague is next weekend. I need you to be able to write and hold horses for me.”
“Chincoteague?” Leah asked.
“I always volunteer at the annual pony swim. Skyler helps hold the horses and writes down their information while I examine and vaccinate them.”
“We bet on the horses,” Skyler interjected. She bent forward to rest against her lover’s shoulder, her injured hand cradled in Jessica’s lap.
“We always stop off at Colonial Downs near Richmond on the way there and spend an afternoon betting on the races for a bit of fun,” Tory explained.
“I’m sorry, Tory. I know you guys have been planning this for months, but she cut it really deep and nicked a tendon,” Jessica explained. “She won’t be using this hand much for a while. Is it too late to find somebody else to go with you?”
Skyler sulked. “Oh man, I wanted to go to the track. I can write with my right hand.”
Tory scowled. “Damn it, Sky. I need a helper with two good hands. It’ll be hard to find somebody this late. Somebody else I don’t mind sharing a hotel room with because everything is booked up for fifty miles around.”
Leah looked over at Jessica. It was easy enough to read the question in her eyes. What about you? Leah glanced at Gram, resting comfortably in the next chaise. Debbie had said she would come for the weekend, and the irrational desire to defy her father’s need for expediency won out over her need to face the issues at hand. Running away for a weekend was sounding pretty good. Running away with Tory sounded even better.
“I can do it,” she said. “I read Marguerite Henry’s Misty of Chincoteague a million times when I was a kid, but I’ve never seen the swimming of the ponies. I’d love to go.”
Tory stared, her face unreadable. “What about your grandmother? Besides, I thought you were too busy.”
“I could really use a break, and my sister is coming to visit from Tennessee. She can look after Gram for the weekend. Besides, I could make it a working trip and freelance a travel piece about the event.”
Jessica jumped in. “That’s an excellent idea. Leah’s great with horses, Tory. She’d be a big help.”
Leah could see that Tory was wavering, so she offered up her most engaging smile. “It’s the least I could do to make up for the, you know, leprechaun incident.”
Tory blushed a deep red.
Deciding she should make a quick exit before Tory had a chance to refuse, Leah gently shook Gram’s shoulder. “Gram, honey, we need to take you home now.”
Gram sat up groggily, and Leah helped her to her feet.
“Jess, thanks so much for inviting us. No, don’t get up. We’ll talk soon. Skyler, it was a pleasure to see you again. I hope your hand heals quickly.”
A very sleepy Gram gave Tory a hug and rose on her tiptoes to give her a quick kiss on the lips. “Come by for a visit soon, Willie,” she said.
Tory looked stunned.
Leah pointed Gram toward the Jeep, then turned to wink at Tory. “When she starts slipping you the tongue, I’ll have a talk with her. Call me to let me know when we leave for Chincoteague.”
*
Tory was still staring after Leah, feeling like the coyote flattened by a Texas roadrunner, when Bridgette appeared at her side and wrapped an arm around her waist.
“Here you are! Sorry, I didn’t mean to get so caught up talking softball.” Bridgette looked down at Skyler and Jessica, who both looked surprised. “Hi.”
Tory quickly made the introductions. “Jessica and Skyler are our hosts,” she explained to Bridgette. “Bridgette is Cheryl Haskel’s cousin. She just moved here to teach art at the college.”
Jessica extended her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you, Bridgette. How do you like Cherokee Falls so far?”
Skyler suddenly seemed a lot more focused, her eyes darting from Tory to Bridgette as she and Jessica plunged into a discussion about art and where Bridgette previously taught.
“I have to pee,” Skyler announced, extracting herself from Jessica and the chaise lounge. She swayed for a moment when she stood up, and Jessica reached out to brace her.
“Honey, maybe I should go with you.”
Skyler grabbed Tory’s arm and pulled her toward the house. “That’s okay. Tory will make sure I don’t fall down the steps. She needs a fresh beer anyway. You guys just keep talking. We’ll be right back.”
“Since when did I become your bathroom escort?”
“Since you quit keeping me in the loop. You’ve been busy, my friend.”
“You sure sobered up fast.”
“Spill.” Skyler hesitated when she unconsciously reached out with her left hand, then realized she couldn’t grasp the door handle.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tory reached around Skyler and pulled the door open for her.
“I’m talking about your near miss there. Bridgette, who I’m guessing is your date for the evening, almost walked up on you making plans to run off with Jess’s friend next weekend.”
“I didn’t exactly make plans. I got railroaded.”
“I saw you looking at her. Tell me you aren’t interested in that little Texas spitfire.”
“So you know Leah?”
“Just met her at the horse show the other day, but I’ve heard a lot of stories from Jess. And she started arguments in two groups of people and got Lou in trouble with Desiree for watching her cute little ass sashay across the patio—all before you got here.”
“Oh, she attracts trouble, all right.”
“Seems to me she’s attracted more than trouble.”
“I’m not interested.”
“Look me in the face and tell me you’re not interes
ted.”
Tory shook her head, but smiled. “Shut up.”
“I knew it. So, what’s up with the artist?”
Tory shrugged. “Cheryl asked me to show her around. We had dinner last week, and it was nice, so I asked her to come with me today.”
“She’s pretty,” Skyler observed. “Did you know Leah would be here, too?”
“I asked Leah first, but she turned me down. She doesn’t want to go out with me. So I asked Bridgette.”
“She sure seems anxious to go to Chincoteague with you.”
“Yeah. I’m still trying to figure that one out.”
Skyler playfully bumped her shoulder against Tory’s.
“Just when I thought this old dog had forgotten how to hunt, she flushes out a bevy of women. You go, stud. Somebody has to keep the women in this town happy since I’m off the market.”
Tory’s chest puffed out at the compliment. Maybe it was time for her to just relax and enjoy this sudden wealth of female riches. She grinned. “It’s a tough job, but I’ll see what I can do.”
Skyler began rummaging through the kitchen cabinets, then stopped to point out a large tray and a sleeve of plastic shot-sized cups. “Pull those down for me, will ya, while I hit the bathroom. Then grab the big bottles of Baileys and Buttershots. It’s time to get this party really started.”
When Skyler returned, she and Tory poured out a table full of buttery-nipple shots for the enthusiastic crowd. The conversation continued for several more hours before they turned up the music and everyone helped push the tables to the borders of the large patio to make room for a dance floor. The sun began to set and someone lit the outdoor fireplace and switched on the strings of colorful lanterns that lined the area.
Tory sat out the lesbian staple, the Electric Slide, but joined Bridgette on the dance floor when the music switched to a thumping dance tune. Warmed by a couple of shots and a third beer, Bridgette effortlessly matched Tory’s rhythm through rap tunes, shag tunes, and even a lively two-step. When the music finally slowed, the evening had cooled enough that Tory felt Bridgette shiver slightly. She guided her over to the fireplace and took off her outer shirt to drape it over Bridgette’s bare shoulders. Then she turned her to face the fire and wrapped her arms around her from behind to warm her back.
“I’m having a wonderful time, Tory,” Bridgette said softly.
“It has been fun. Thank you for coming with me,” Tory replied in Bridgette’s ear. She glanced at her watch. It was nearly two in the morning. The time had gone quickly. “But I’m afraid we need to go. I have to pick Mom up for early Mass in the morning, and I’ve got this family thing all day tomorrow.”
“Ah. A good Catholic girl, huh?”
“A good Catholic girl, huh?” Leah asked as she gently cleaned the blood from the leprechaun tattoo on Tory’s bared hip.
“Tory?”
“Oh, sorry. I guess I drifted off there for a minute.”
“Are you okay to drive?”
“Sure. I was thinking, not nodding off. I switched to water several hours ago. I’m fine.”
“Good, because I’m still a little buzzy. I don’t think I could drive us.”
“No problem,” Tory said, relieved that Bridgette didn’t ask what she had been thinking about.
*
When they pulled up in front of the Haskels’ two-story, plantation-style house, Bridgette seemed to be catching on to Tory’s old-fashioned gallantry and waited while she circled the truck to open the passenger-side door. They walked hand in hand onto the porch and paused to face each other. Bridgette stepped close.
“You could come upstairs,” she offered.
Tory chuckled. “I don’t think so. All I need is to have to explain to Cheryl’s thirteen-year-old daughter why I’m having a naked sleepover with you.”
Bridgette slid her arms around Tory’s neck and pulled her so close their lips were almost touching. “Can’t blame a girl for trying,” she said.
Bridgette’s lips still tasted of the butterscotch liquor she had been drinking. She was an excellent kisser, and Tory’s body responded. Their hips pressed together, each seeking the other’s heat. For just a moment, she considered taking Bridgette back to her house. Her ovaries were ready to take things further, but something stopped her. She ended the kiss and stepped back.
“How about coming to my first ballgame Tuesday night? We’ve got the early game,” Bridgette said.
“That’s sounds good, but I’ll probably have to come straight from work and may not make the first couple of innings.”
“As long as you get there, anytime is okay.”
“I’ll see you then.”
Tory waited until she saw Bridgette was safely inside, then pointed her truck toward home. Bridgette’s kiss tingling on her lips, the taste of her mouth lingering on her tongue, Tory was dismayed to find her thoughts already shifting to the upcoming weekend.
Chapter Ten
Tory inhaled the aroma of the fresh-brewed coffee she always associated with her mother’s kitchen.
“Mom. I’m here,” she yelled into the living room before pouring herself a cup and dropping a bagel into the toaster.
“What have I told you about yelling in the house, young lady?” Alma Greyson hurried into the kitchen. At sixty-eight, she was as tall and still as slender as Tory. “I swear, you and your brother still act like teenagers.”
“What’s Matt done?” Tory had two brothers, one older and one younger. Her older brother, Matt, was the reason for the family gathering today. His youngest daughter was being christened at church and was the guest of honor at the afternoon’s cookout to celebrate.
“Not Matt. Your younger brother.”
“Don’t compare me to him. I paid my own way through college, own a business, and support myself.”
Alma stared pointedly at Tory. “Don’t be uppity.”
Tory rolled her eyes, taking a bite of her cream cheese–covered bagel. “So, what has David done now?” she asked after she swallowed.
A deep voice answered from the doorway. “David quit school again.”
David Greyson was her direct opposite. At only five foot seven, he was thick bodied, dark, and hairy like his father. Shirtless and wearing baggy flannel pajama bottoms, he moved from the doorway to help himself to the coffee.
“David, put on a shirt before you sit down at my table,” Alma said.
David shuffled over to the laundry closet, selected a T-shirt from a pile of his dirty laundry lying on top of the washer, and pulled it over his head.
This scene had repeated itself several times over the years. Twenty-eight years old, he had been enrolled in five colleges and started seven different major areas of study, finishing none. He was interested in only one thing: video games. He played relentlessly, day and night, to the exclusion of his studies or a profitable job. That’s why they’d been sure his last field of study, video-game design, would be a good fit.
“So what happened?” Tory asked.
David shrugged. “I got tired of the lame classes. Me and this guy I met, Brent, have a great idea for a new Wii game that’ll blow people away. We need to spend our time developing it.”
Alma looked at her watch. They needed to leave for church. “Your father called. He wants you to pick up six bags of ice for this afternoon.”
“Where’s Dad? He isn’t going to the christening?” Tory asked, not really surprised that her father wasn’t going to Mass with them. He rarely went to church, so Tory usually escorted her mother.
“He’s at your brother’s house, smoking the pig so everyone else can be at church this morning.” The disappointment in her voice was evident, so Tory didn’t bother to point out that David could have watched the pig so her father could be there for his granddaughter’s christening.
“I need some money,” David said while chewing a mouth full of bagel.
Alma pulled $10 from her purse and laid it on the table.
“I need gas money, too. My car
’s on empty.”
“That’s all the cash I have,” Alma said, fishing around in her purse again for her wallet. “You’ll have to take my debit card.”
Tory pulled a twenty from her pocket and tossed it on the table. She remembered the several hundred dollars her brother helped himself to last time he got his hands on his mother’s debit card. “You need to get a job.”
“Don’t you have something he can do at your clinic?”
“He didn’t show up half the time when I hired him last summer,” Tory pointed out.
“He’s grown up since then.”
“Mom, I need time to work on the game.”
“Oh, yeah, I can see he’s grown up a lot.”
“Shut up. When this game hits the market and I’m as rich as that Microsoft guy, you’ll eat those words.”
“I hope I do, David. In the meantime, I guess you’ll just have to keep living off Mom and Dad. They might feed you and give you a place to sleep, but who’ll put gas in your car and pay your insurance? You aren’t a kid anymore. You think they’ll support you forever?”
“That’s why you’re going to give him a part-time job,” Alma said.
Tory opened her mouth to refuse again, but the don’t-argue-with-your-mother look stopped her.
“Fine.”
“I’m not cleaning up dog shit again.”
“I have enough kennel help. The guy who fed the horses and cleaned the stalls in the clinic barn was in a car accident last month. You can do his job until he recovers. He also kept my lawn, the clinic lawn, and paddocks mowed. It takes about twenty hours a week. That should leave you plenty of time to play video games.”
David shrugged. “I guess that’s okay. I don’t mind cutting grass.”
Alma patted Tory on the arm. “Thank you, dear. Now, we have to get going or we’ll be late for Mass. Don’t forget the ice, son.”
“Yeah, yeah. I won’t forget.”
Tory paused on her way out to point a warning finger at David. “I want to see you at eight sharp tomorrow.”
Long Shot Page 8
