Gram giggled. “I told her to go fast.”
Leah laughed at her grandmother, and MG smiled. “I always did like fast cars and fast women, huh, Lori?”
Gram swatted at MG’s arm. “Willie, don’t say that in front of Sissy.”
Leah’s smile faded. Sissy was Gram’s long-dead sister.
But MG didn’t falter. “I wish that was Sissy standing there, sweetie. I’d plant a big kiss on you that would curl her hair. She always did get under my skin with her I’m-better-than-you attitude.”
Gram blushed. “You are so bad,” she murmured.
“I know it,” MG replied. She pointed to Leah. “That’s not Sissy, Lori. Who is it?”
When Gram looked blankly at Leah and Tory for a long minute. Leah started to prompt her, but MG held up her hand. “Who is that, Lori? You know her.”
“That’s Leah, my granddaughter. She wears cowboy boots because she’s from Texas.”
Leah grinned in relief and pulled up her pants leg to reveal her Justin boots.
Gram’s eyes moved to Tory. “You’re not Willie.” She shifted in MG’s lap so that their faces were only inches apart and placed her hands on MG’s cheeks. “This is my Willie,” she said softly.
MG rewarded her with a soft kiss. “I’ve always been yours,” she said before pointing at Tory. “That’s Tory. She’s my niece.” She stage-whispered in Gram’s ear, “Don’t tell anybody, but she’s got a crush on your granddaughter.”
Gram giggled again. Leah and Tory both blushed.
“MG,” Tory growled.
“Lunch,” MG said, abruptly changing the subject. “We can have it brought to my place, but how about if we join the others in the dining room and I’ll give you a tour of my residence afterward?”
They all agreed and MG steered the scooter down the hall at a more sedate pace so Tory and Leah could keep up.
The menu had a limited number of selections, much like other hospital facilities, but the vegetable soup and grilled cheese sandwiches were very tasty.
Gram stayed mostly in the present but occasionally strayed into the oblivion of her disease, remarking about the mansion Willie lived in “with so many servants.”
“Why does she call you Willie?” Leah asked. “Why not MG?”
MG smiled. “I began to go by MG when I joined the service. I was just too tall and too butch to fit the name my mother gave me…Millie.”
“You were never a Millie,” Gram said.
“No. And you were never Lorraine to me.” She turned back to Leah and Tory. “She always called me Willie, and I was the only one who called her Lori. Her mother hated it.”
They finished lunch and toured MG’s residence. It included a spacious open room that held a small kitchen, dining area, and a huge living room with a gas-fueled fireplace. There were two bedrooms, both with handicapped-accessible bathrooms. The larger one was MG’s master suite. At the end of the wing was a study and adjacent to it a small, private sunroom with more magnificent gardens planted just outside.
“This is where you live?” Gram asked, staring out at the flowers.
“Yes, it is,” MG answered. “I have synthetic joints in both hips, both knees, and my right elbow. Some days, my arthritis hurts so bad I can’t get out of bed, and my hands are so crippled I can’t manage buttons and zippers or picking up pills I’ve dropped. It seemed like with all those joint replacements I was just bouncing from the hospital to rehab to home and back to the hospital. So I decided to bring all that together in one place, and I built this world around me. I have my privacy here in the residence, but friends and dinner company only a few steps away.”
She indicated for Gram to sit with her in a comfortable wicker love seat so they could look out over the gardens. MG touched the intercom that hung from her neck like a shiny medallion. “With only the touch of a button, I have as much or as little assistance as I need on an hour-to-hour, day-to-day basis.”
“This is so wonderful,” Gram said. “Sometimes the farm is just too much for me anymore.” She ducked her head and stared down at her hands, wringing them. “Sometimes I find myself sitting on the porch or standing in the driveway and I don’t remember how I got there or where I was going. The other morning, I sat on my bed for an hour before I recognized my own bedroom.”
MG’s gnarled hands covered hers, and Gram’s eyes followed as their hands were lifted to MG’s lips. “I’m so scared sometimes, Willie. I’m scared that one morning I’ll sit there waiting and waiting, but my memory will never come back.”
“Come live with me here, Lori. I can be your memory.”
“Oh, I couldn’t. People would talk,” Gram replied shyly.
“Do you still love me?”
Gram blinked as tears gathered, then trailed down her wrinkled cheeks. “I have always loved you,” she choked out.
“Then it doesn’t matter anymore what other people think,” MG assured her.
Leah cleared her throat, reminding them that they weren’t alone. “Gram, I was going to tell you when we got home, but I’ve found a buyer for the farm. It’s a really good offer, but I don’t know if it’s enough to afford a place like this.”
MG cradled Gram’s hand against her chest. “Even if she isn’t comfortable living in the residence with me, she can have any room she wants in the place. We’ll let her health insurance pay what it will, but I won’t let her pay a dime. Her money is hers to keep, spend, or give away as she likes.”
“That’s very generous.”
“I could never put a price on what it means to me to have Lori back in my life,” MG said firmly. “All she has to say is yes.”
Gram laughed with delight. “Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, if I can live here with you in your home.”
“That’s exactly what I was hoping for.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Gram was so tired when they left that they made a bed for her in Tory’s backseat with some pillows and a blanket provided by MG. Leah called Jimmy and told him he could have the farm truck if he’d go get it from the diner. Gram wouldn’t need it any longer and shouldn’t be driving anyway.
That problem solved, they headed back to town where Leah’s Jeep was still parked. Gram was sleeping so soundly, Tory offered to follow so they wouldn’t have to wake her until she was home. Even then, they had difficulty rousing her, so Tory picked her up like a child and carried her inside to lay her on the bed. Leah covered her with a blanket and turned on the night-light and left the bedroom door partially open.
It had been an exhausting day for all of them.
“What are you doing for dinner?” Tory was reluctant to leave. The day’s events had moved so fast, they hadn’t talked about Bridgette and why Tory hadn’t called sooner. “I could go get some takeout and bring it back,” she offered.
“I’ve got some pretty good leftovers in the fridge—meat loaf, mashed potatoes, and peas,” Leah said. “I can heat that up. That’s not much repayment for all you’ve done for us today, but there’s enough for two.”
“Leftovers sound good to me.”
Leah pulled the food from the refrigerator and filled two plates to heat in the microwave. While the food warmed, she punched the Play button on the message machine blinking on the counter.
“Leah, it’s Margaret. I’m so glad you found Lorraine safe. Please call me if I can do anything to help.”
The machine beeped and a second message played.
“Ms. Montgomery, this is Alan Caldwell. I just happened to be working in my office today when the paperwork on your grandmother’s farm came over the fax machine. It looks like a very good offer to me. I can take care of the paperwork and have a closing set for the end of the week if you like. Call my office on Monday and let us know.”
The microwave beeped at the same time as the message machine, indicating the first plate was hot and a third message was waiting. Leah handed the hot plate to Tory and slid the next one in just as the last message bega
n.
“This message is for Leah Montgomery. This is Sam Foreman from the Associated Press. We found your proposal for that nursing-home-enterprise piece very interesting, and we’d like to set up a time to talk to you about that. If you do have accurate research to back it up, we’d like to talk to you about a possible job with us.”
“Oh, my God! Finally. I can’t believe that after months of worry, it all falls into place in one day.”
The microwave beeped and she grabbed her plate to join Tory at the table.
“That’s great news,” Tory lied. Leah would be leaving soon and was happy about it. Tory had suddenly lost her appetite, but still shoveled the food into her mouth and concentrated on chewing and swallowing.
“I need to start a list. I have to decide what to do with all Gram’s stuff, call that Foreman guy back for a meeting, and phone Alan and tell him to set the closing as soon as possible.”
“Are you sure you should jump at the first offer you get?” That was a stupid question in the current job market.
“Oh, it’s not the first.”
Tory was surprised. “You’ve had others?”
“Sugar, when you’re good, everybody wants you. Seriously, I did get an offer from a national nonprofit group that monitors heath-care issues and one from a congresswoman to join her staff. Both jobs would be researcher-type positions, but both offers would have a lot of politics attached.”
“Did you hear back from the Richmond paper?”
“Hiring freeze. Just like everybody else. And, hey, I did get one offer right here in Cherokee Falls.”
“You did?” Tory hated that she sounded so hopeful.
“Teaching part-time at the college.” Leah’s sarcasm was clear. “Your artist friend and I could have gone to faculty meetings together.”
“Leah—”
“I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.” She rose abruptly and carried their empty plates to the sink, where she rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher. “It’s been a long day. I think I’ll turn in early,” she said, her back still to Tory.
Tory wanted to protest, but instead she rose to leave. Why shouldn’t she see Bridgette? It wasn’t worth arguing about, anyway. Leah was leaving Cherokee Falls. Tory was halfway across the porch when Leah appeared at the door.
“Tory, wait.”
She stopped and turned. Leah stepped out onto the porch and gave Tory’s hand a squeeze. “I can’t thank you enough for what you did today for Gram. Now I can go on with my life and know that she’s safe and probably happier than she’s ever been.”
Tory pulled her into a tight hug, resting her cheek against the top of Leah’s head.
“And what about you, Leah? Will you be happy?”
Leah burrowed into Tory’s embrace but didn’t answer. After several long minutes, Tory released her and stepped back. “Call me if you need anything, any help.”
“Will you keep in touch? Let me know how Gram and MG are doing?”
“Yes. I’ll keep an eye on them.”
Leah stayed on the porch, but Tory avoided looking in that direction as she climbed into her truck and drove away.
*
Tory stood outside Bridgette’s door, debating if she should ring the bell again. She had driven around for a while after leaving Leah’s, so it was late. Bridgette’s car was in the parking lot, but that didn’t mean she was home. Tory wasn’t even sure why she was there. She told herself it was to apologize for her abrupt departure that morning, but truthfully she felt like she was coming to pieces and knew Bridgette would hold her tight and distract her enough to lower the volume of the storm that howled inside.
She had just concluded that nobody was home when she heard the locks being released and the door opened. Bridgette stood there, a paintbrush in her hand.
“I’m sorry. You’re busy. I…I should have called first.”
Tory felt naked under Bridgette’s steady gaze. Could she see the despair that was tearing at Tory’s insides?
“I, uh, I just wanted to apologize for this morning. It was an emergency, but I shouldn’t have left you stranded.”
Bridgette stepped back. “Please come in. I’ll only be a minute. I have to put my brushes in to soak.” She paused at the entrance of the studio area. “There’s a Riesling chilling in the refrigerator. Would you open it and find a couple of wineglasses?”
Tory did as she asked. She was just pulling the glasses from the cabinet when Bridgette reappeared and said, “It’s cool enough tonight to sit on the balcony. Bring the wine with you.”
Tory followed her through a set of French doors onto a balcony that overlooked a wide rocky creek still visible under the full August moon. The final breath of summer warmed the evening, but a cooling breeze wafted up from the stream, along with the noise of the water rushing over the jagged rocks.
A single, padded chaise lounge sat next to a small, low table that held a thick candle. Bridgette lit the candle and settled into the chair. She took one of the wineglasses from Tory, then spread her long legs and indicated for Tory to sit between them, in front of her. “You can use me for a backrest,” she said.
Tory hesitated. It was an unfamiliar role for her. She usually sat in the back and cradled the other person. She was the strong one who weathered everybody else’s crises. She was the one who offered friendship to the abandoned, provided jobs, and rescued lost grandmothers.
Bridgette waited patiently until Tory gave in and settled against her. “Pour us some wine, please,” she said, reaching around Tory to hold out her glass.
Tory obliged and set the bottle on the small table. “Bridgette—”
“Shh. I love to sit out here and listen to the music of the evening—the water running, the frogs and crickets. Listen with me for a while.”
They sat there for a long time without speaking, and Tory began to relax. They sipped their wine and refilled their glasses.
Finally, Bridgette spoke. “Did you find her grandmother safe?”
“Yes, we did.”
“Good.”
“Then we took her to the extended-care facility my aunt owns. She lives there, too. They were lovers almost fifty years ago, and we reunited them.”
“How wonderful! Tell me all of it.”
So Tory started at the beginning. And when she finished, the wine was gone and the story had distracted her enough to temporarily ease the ache in her chest.
“That is a beautiful story,” Bridgette said. “Now tell me the hard part.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Tell me about Leah.”
Tory tried to pull away, but Bridgette’s slender arms held her fast. Surprised at Bridgette’s strength, Tory stopped her struggle and slumped back, resigned. “We made love the weekend we went to Chincoteague. It was just that once, and I haven’t slept with her since you and I have been together. Is that what you want to know?”
“Not at all. You and I haven’t agreed to be exclusive. We’re friends, very good friends, I hope.”
“Christ. Not again.”
Bridgette let go this time when Tory pulled away and stood to walk over to the balcony railing. She stared out into the dark. “I am so tired of hearing the let’s-be-friends speech.”
Bridgette also stood and came to rest her back against the rail to face Tory. “Our relationship has never felt like it was going anywhere beyond friendship. Not because of me, but because of you.”
Tory hung her head. That was true. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“It’s okay. We never put it into words, but your actions were always honest. I take it you’ve never had a friend you were also intimate with.”
Tory’s laugh was harsh. “You mean a fuck-buddy. No, I haven’t.”
“That’s a crude American term for it. In some other societies intimate friendships are common and highly valued.”
“I guess I’m just not as worldly as you are.”
“Tell me about Leah. Tell me why she’s such a source of pain
for you.”
Tory was quiet for a moment. It seemed weird to be talking to Bridgette about another woman, but it also felt strangely okay. “She’s cute and funny, and sarcastic and infuriating. She acts tough on the outside, but is so lost on the inside.”
“She has an energy that draws you.”
“She’s got a job offer, a buyer for the farm, and now, a place to settle her grandmother. She’s leaving. Nothing left to keep her here. End of story.”
“I see.”
The evening warmth had become a night chill, so Bridgette blew out the candle and gathered the wineglasses. “Please stay with me tonight.”
“I don’t think I’m up for that.”
“Just to sleep, Tory. You need a friend tonight. Not a fuck-buddy, as you call it, but a friend.”
They went inside and Bridgette turned the covers back and began to strip.
“I thought—”
“I never sleep in pajamas and you don’t have any with you. It’s not like we haven’t seen each other naked. Entire Eskimo families sleep together naked for warmth.”
“This isn’t Alaska,” Tory muttered, but she stripped down to her briefs.
When they settled in the bed, Tory turned on her side and pulled a spare pillow against her chest as if she could hold the pain inside. Bridgette moved to curl around her. Her skin was warm against Tory’s back, her easy breaths soft in Tory’s ear. Her presence didn’t fill the emptiness, but eased it a bit. Wedged between the pillow and Bridgette, Tory finally began to relax and drift into a troubled rest.
*
Tory woke early and quietly dressed, being careful not to wake Bridgette. She carried her shoes out to the living room and was just putting on her socks when Bridgette’s voice came from the doorway.
“You’re up early.” She was wrapped in a soft robe.
“I’m sorry. I was trying not to wake you. I just couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d go do some paperwork at the clinic.”
Bridgette watched her slide on her shoes and tie the laces.
“Thank you for last night,” Tory said.
Long Shot Page 18
