The Game of Denial

by Brenda Adcock

  "Looks like Monica's turning up the heat," a low voice said, bringing Evey's attention back to her table. Millie and Harlan were gone, but Charmaine was now seated next to her.

  "What do you mean?" Evey asked.

  "Monica might get lucky tonight. Mom's put away several glasses of this excellent wine and it's been a very long time since she's been...with anyone," Charmaine said as she lifted her glass to her lips. She watched as Monica slid her hand down Joan's arm to lead her away from the celebration. "Mom will hate herself in the morning," Charmaine said into her glass.

  "Excuse me," Evey said politely, standing and straightening the skirt of her dress before walking in the direction Joan and Monica had taken. She moved carefully in the dark, the area barely lit by a sliver of the moon. She could hear the sound of the music behind her. She was preparing to return to the reception when she heard voices to her left. She stepped behind a large flowering bush at the edge of the grove. She sucked in a deep breath when she saw Monica pressed tightly against Joan. The redhead appeared to be nuzzling her face into Joan's neck as her hands worked at the vest buttons again.

  "You look incredibly desirable in this suit, but it has entirely too many buttons," Monica's low voice complained.

  "Please stop, Monica," Joan said. She gently pushed Monica away and held her at arm's length.

  "You've been teasing me too long, Joan," Monica said. "You know how much I want you."

  "I have never led you on or done anything to make you believe I was interested in you romantically or any other way."

  "Martine wouldn't have wanted you to stop living after she was gone, honey."

  "Don't tell me what Martine would or would not have wanted," Joan said.

  "She was my best friend and I will never believe she wanted you to spend the rest of your life alone and untouched."

  "And you would be more than glad to make me feel better, is that what you're saying?"

  "And be touched by you," Monica said in a low, sultry voice. "I dream about what it would be like to feel your hands and mouth on my body."

  "What you want should be done by someone who cares about you. I'm sorry, but I'm not that person."

  "I could be if you gave me a chance."

  Joan shook her head and brought her hand to her forehead. "Actually, even though the wine tonight is wonderful, I've probably gone over my limit," she said with a chuckle. "I'd like to believe I can trust you not to take advantage of the situation."

  Evey sensed a cue from Joan and stepped from behind the bush, strolling toward the two women. "There you are!" she announced cheerfully. "You promised me the next dance."

  Joan leaned back against the nearest tree and took a deep breath. Monica looked less than thrilled that her planned seduction had failed. She shook her head and crossed her arms over her inviting chest. She turned her attention back to Joan. "I don't want to see you again when we return to New York," she said.

  Joan reached out and placed a consoling hand on Monica's arm. "I'm sorry," she said.

  Joan and Evey watched Monica make her way back toward the after-wedding party.

  "How does coffee sound?" Evey asked.

  "Like a gift from the gods," Joan sighed. "Where did they get that wine? It's delicious, but should come with a warning label."

  Joan pushed away from the tree and took a shaky step forward. Evey reached out and took her arm to steady her. "Sorry," Joan said. "I usually hold my liquor better than this."

  "I meant to tell you earlier that you look very...dashing in that tuxedo," Evey said.

  "Thank you. I haven't worn it in a long time."

  "Not since your...wife passed away?"

  "She chose it for me." Joan cleared her throat and looked down at Evey. "You look beautiful in that gown, by the way. It complements your hair and eyes wonderfully."

  "I'm glad you like it. Fran said you would when she helped me pick it out." Evey smiled.

  "Would you honor me with a dance before the coffee?" Joan asked, groaning at how formal the invitation sounded.

  "I would be delighted," Evey said, performing a slight curtsy and eliciting a chuckle from Joan.

  The small band was returning from its break when Joan and Evey entered the gathering. They had performed an acceptable combination of fast and slow tunes and began their second set with a slow clarinet piece, Joan recognized as Kenny G's "Forever In Love." Joan looked at Evey and offered her hand. When Evey accepted it, her touch was soft and as light as a feather. They joined a few other couples on the floor and Joan took Evey in her arms, holding her at a respectful distance, even though she wanted to bring her closer, much closer. As if she wanted the same thing, Evey slid her hand from Joan's shoulder to the back of her neck and stepped closer, stroking absently at the short hair along the nape of her neck as Joan's hand moved from the center to the small of her back. Joan looked down at Evey and smiled. She struggled to take a breath and longed to feel Evey's head against her chest. When the music faded away, Joan hesitated before releasing the woman who fit so well in her arms.

  Joan accompanied Evey into the house and plopped down in a chair at the kitchen table while Evey prepared the coffeemaker. She rotated her neck as far as it would turn in either direction and leaned her head back, bringing a hand up to massage her shoulder. Evey dried her hands on a towel that was folded on the counter. She stepped behind Joan and lightly placed her hands on her shoulders. She began kneading the tight muscles beneath the clothing and skin. Joan's head fell forward and she groaned softly. Gradually she lowered her head to the table and smiled.

  "Slip your coat off," Evey said.

  Without a moment of hesitation Joan shook the jacket from her shoulders and down her arms. Evey took it and hung it on the back of a nearby chair.

  "Can you also unbutton your vest? The fabric is pulling across your back and I don't want to damage it," Evey said.

  Joan kept her eyes closed as she released the buttons and dropped the vest from her shoulders to join the jacket. She loosened her necktie and collar and rested her head on the small table. Without the layers of clothing to protect her, Joan cringed the first time Evey's fingers manipulated the tense muscles along her shoulders and began moving down her spine in small increments. Evey located a bundle of knots near the bottom of Joan's right shoulder blade. She used the heel of her right hand and worked it in a clockwise movement while her left hand gripped Joan's shoulder.

  "Am I hurting you?" Evey asked.

  Joan moved her head on the table. "No. Your fingers are absolute magic," she said.

  "This was supposed to be an enjoyable time for you and your family," Evey said. "It doesn't seem to be working out that way for you."

  Joan propped herself on her elbows as she sat up and cleared her throat. "It was until Thursday."

  "When Miss Ashford arrived?"

  Joan sat back and looked at Evey. "Monica has made it clear to me, and anyone else who might listen, that she believes she and I would be an ideal couple." Joan shrugged. "I've made it equally clear that I am not interested in her that way. She has always been a very good friend, but I have no physical or emotional interest in her. I can't give her what she wants and refuse to take advantage of her for my own satisfaction."

  "That's a very noble answer," Evey said.

  Joan stood up quickly and grabbed her vest. "There's nothing noble about it. I simply don't feel that kind of attraction to Monica."

  "So sex for the sake of physical release is out of the question?"

  "It's not who I am. I see no need to ruin a perfectly good friendship."

  Their conversation was interrupted by Meg rushing into the kitchen. "Frannie and Brad are coming to the house to change," she announced excitedly.

  FRAN STOOD NEAR the bottom of the staircase, turned her back to the anxious group of women standing behind her, and tossed her bouquet over her shoulder. She and Brad had a reservation at a bed and breakfast not too far from Meadowbrook Farm and would leave for a longer stay in the Caribb
ean the following day. The happiness Joan saw on Fran's face threatened to bring tears to her eyes. Everything had seemed so simple when Tucker married, but losing one of their girls struck Joan hard for some reason. As if on cue, the group awaiting the bouquet parted and let it fall into Charmaine's hands.

  "Very funny," Charmaine said. "I'm not quite ready to give up my freedom yet. Why should I when I have all the best benefits of marriage without the responsibility?"

  The women around Charmaine pushed her and whispered what Joan guessed were smarmy comments about her active and well-documented sexual exploits.

  "Are you all right?" Evey asked, running her hand across Joan's back in a circular pattern that felt like a caress.

  "I think I might need a drink," Joan said.

  "I saved a bottle of champagne, thinking I might feel the same way once the dust settled." Evey crooked her index finger, signaling Joan should follow.

  The two women heard the shouts of the wedding guests as they strolled across the lawn toward the reception area. The band was taking a smoke break during the departure of the bride and groom. Their services had been paid for until midnight. Two more hours.

  Evey stepped behind one of the two bar areas and rummaged around for a moment before triumphantly raising an unopened bottle of champagne. She picked up two champagne flutes and motioned to Joan with her head. "I need to enjoy this without the racket caused by the younger set," she said.

  When they reached the far stable area, Joan dragged two hay bales into the walkway and settled them close enough to a wall to allow them to lean back. Evey handed Joan the champagne bottle and they both laughed when the sound of the popping cork caused a chorus of whinnies from the horses attempting to sleep. The two women silently sipped their champagne and listened to the remaining guests returning to the reception area for another round of celebration.

  Joan finished her flute of champagne. "Maybe tomorrow your life can return to normal," she said.

  "Hmmm. Whatever normal is," Evey said. "What's normal for you?"

  Joan shrugged. "Going to work, going home, going to sleep. Very exciting stuff."

  Evey turned her head and stared at Joan. "That's interesting, the way you said that."

  "What?"

  "Most people would say "˜go to work, come home, go to bed.' Not go to sleep."

  Joan rested her elbows on her knees. "I've had a difficult time falling asleep since I've been alone. It's not a rarity for me to fall asleep on the couch or in my recliner. It's usually morning when I wake up."

  "That's kind of sad in a way."

  "Could be. What's normal for you?"

  "Pretty much the same things, except I always fall asleep in bed."

  "I envy you."

  Evey put her hand on Joan's arm. "Oh, listen. I love this song. Would you dance with me again?"

  "If you want."

  Evey stood up and finished her champagne. "You've danced with just about every other woman here multiple times. I feel a little neglected and dancing with Tully or Harlan isn't much to write home about. Tully sort of sways in the same place the whole time and Harlan knows the basic box step."

  Joan nodded. She unbuttoned her tuxedo jacket and removed it one arm at a time. "Do you mind?" she asked.

  "Make yourself comfortable."

  The words had barely left Evey's mouth when Joan took her hand and slid an arm around her waist, drawing Evey closer than she had the first time they danced. Evey draped her arm across Joan's shoulder.

  "You smell wonderful," Evey mumbled against Joan's chest. "What's it called?"

  "Insatiable," Joan answered, clearing her throat.

  Evey laughed at Joan's apparent discomfort.

  A few moments later, Joan shivered slightly as Evey's fingers found their way into her hair and brushed up the close cut along her neckline.

  "It feels like sable," Evey commented softly.

  Joan's hand moved up Evey's back and pressed her closer. She cleared her throat when the music stopped and stepped back.

  "Why are you so nervous, Joan?"

  "I'm not."

  "Yes. You are. You always clear your throat when you're nervous about something."

  "An unconscious habit. Sorry."

  "You don't need to apologize. I didn't mean to make you nervous."

  "You haven't. Sometimes I manage to make myself nervous."

  Evey raised a hand and pressed it against Joan's cheek. "Do I make you nervous?"

  "No." Joan closed her eyes, absorbing the softness against her skin.

  Evey moved her hand to Joan's neck and pressed until Joan lowered her head. Joan was startled when Evey's lips brushed against hers. "Does that make you nervous?" Evey said.

  "Extremely," Joan choked out.

  "Why?"

  Joan opened her eyes and looked into Evey's. "Because it makes me wish for things that aren't a good idea." Evey watched as the brown irises of Joan's eyes seemed to melt into a smoky, liquid chocolate she longed to devour.

  "I practically begged you to kiss me a few days ago, but I was distraught. Tonight I'm not."

  Joan leaned forward and moved closer as her lips kissed softly at the edges of Evey's mouth. She smiled when she saw Evey's lips part with each teasing touch, expecting more.

  "Damn, you're a tease," Evey said as Joan's lips began a slow trail to her ear.

  "You're so beautiful," Joan breathed. "Please tell me to stop."

  "I can't." Evey encircled Joan's neck and held her.

  "It's not too late," Joan said as she nibbled at the sensitive skin below Evey's jaw.

  "Don't stop," Evey choked out as she brought Joan's mouth to meet hers.

  Joan knew it was a mistake the instant she felt Evey's lips part beneath hers, inviting her to explore. It had been so long since she'd felt anything so wonderful. She ran a hand into Evey's hair and caressed the back of her head as she plundered her mouth. She reveled in the feel of Evey's tongue vying with hers in a release of pent-up passion. She longed to crawl inside Evey's soft skin and become one with her. Finally, Joan separated from Evey to catch her breath. "I'm...I'm sorry," she said. "I'm so, so sorry."

  Evey's breathing was labored as she leaned her head against Joan's chest. "I'm sorry you're sorry," she said.

  Joan couldn't force her eyes to connect with Evey's again as she picked up her jacket and quickly left the stables.

  Chapter Sixteen

  EVEY AWOKE LATER than usual the morning after the wedding. She hadn't slept in for years. She stretched and yawned, scratching at her body as she looked out the front window overlooking the area where the wedding had taken place only a few hours earlier. When she returned to her room the night before, she had remained awake reliving the feel of soft lips against hers, gradually demanding more. She refused to take a shower before going to bed, inhaling the scent of the woman who had held in her arms.

  Evey had been disappointed after Joan left her standing in the stable walkway alone. Dressed for a return to her normal routine and thinking of a way to apologize to Ralph for leaving him with the morning chores, Evey noticed the door to Joan's room was still closed when she walked by on her way downstairs. She was surprised to see Charmaine, usually a late sleeper, dressed and holding a very large travel mug.

  "Good morning," Evey said cheerfully.

  Charmaine grimaced. "You couldn't possibly have had as much to drink last night as I did and still be able to say that."

  "It was a beautiful wedding and a wonderful celebration afterward. You, Meg, and Beth were beautiful. I can't wait to get the pictures from the photographer. Have you had breakfast?"

  Charmaine nodded as she swallowed another gulp of coffee. "We had breakfast with Meme and Uncle Ron before we drove them to the airport this morning."

  "We?"

  "Mom and I picked them up from their hotel. I brought the car back with me."

  "Did your mother go back to bed?"

  "She flew to Omaha with Meme."

  The eggs Evey held in
her hand fell to the floor as she stared at Charmaine. "Damn! I...I didn't know she was planning to fly to Omaha."

  "Last minute decision. Some bullshit about needing to get back to the office to deal with an emergency and using the flight to spend a little more time with Meme." Charmaine smirked. "It never seemed important to her before and now she gets all mushy about Meme, who treats her like total shit and hates who she is." Charmaine squeezed water from a sponge and helped Evey clean up the slimy mess. "Personally," Charmaine started as she wiped the floor, "I think something happened last night that scared the crap out of my mother."

  "I don't understand..." Evey said.

  Charmaine laughed out loud. "You didn't have to understand, Mrs. Chase. My mother has been alone, and I mean alone alone, for ten long years. Maybe Monica finally made a chip in that armor she refuses to take off." Charmaine rinsed the sponge in the sink and returned to kneel next to Evey. "Maybe she thinks she'd be betraying Mama somehow if she became involved with someone else. I was eighteen when Mama died and I knew her pretty well. She wouldn't have stayed alone ten months, let alone ten years if it had been Mom who died. I mean, she was French, for God's sake!"

  Charmaine stood and tossed the sponge in the sink. "Well, I should start packing and I guess I'm responsible for making sure Meg does, too. After they drop Mom off, she's sending the plane back for Brad and Fran tomorrow morning. Then it will return for the rest of us. That poor plane will probably need an overhaul after all the trips it's making. Oh, yeah," she said patting the pockets of her pants, "Mom asked me to give this to you."

  Evey's hand shook slightly as she took an envelope from Charmaine. She tried to say thank you, but the words refused to leave her mouth. She felt tears threatening to burst over the boundaries of her eyelids and covered her eyes as she turned to lean over the sink.