The Game of Denial

by Brenda Adcock

  "Brad's so in love with Fran he'd agree to anything she wanted."

  "Charmaine also said Carmichael Industries was willing to lease the space for the next year as a wedding gift."

  "Brad has had a problem with that," Evey said. "He wants to be able to pay for it himself."

  "It's a risky proposition in such a small town. Personally, I would rather have her test the waters before they invested any of their own money. If it doesn't work out, Carmichael Industries can write it off as a business investment. That would take care of the property expense. Fran and Brad would be responsible for the utilities and acquiring inventory. That should make Brad feel like he's got a monetary interest in it as well."

  Joan looked out the side window to take her eyes off Evey's alluring face. Her stomach churned with her need to be close to Evey. Lou parked the limo and opened the back door. Evey laughed when she stepped from the vehicle and saw the small diner. It looked like a converted Airstream travel trailer and was covered with a blanket of Christmas lights.

  "It's not much, but it's some of the best home-cooking around," Joan said as she stood next to Evey.

  "I can personally recommend the brisket and coleslaw," Lou said.

  "Lou, I'm sorry," Joan said. "I'm such a clod. This is Fran's mother-in-law, Evelyn Chase. Evey, my driver, Louise Marshall. Care to join us for dinner, Lou?" Joan asked.

  "I've already eaten, Mrs. C, but I wouldn't turn down a cup of coffee and a slice of Marco's homemade pie," Lou said, patting her belly. "Like I really need it."

  Joan placed her hand on the small of Evey's back and escorted her into the diner, throwing a quick wave to a large black man behind the counter. After a filling meal punctuated by talk and laughter, they finished off with a cup of coffee and a slice of pie. When they stepped out of the diner, Evey said, "That was fun. Thank you for a wonderful meal."

  "My pleasure," Joan said as they strolled toward the limo. "Do you ice skate?"

  "When I was much younger."

  "Would you like to take a spin around the ice rink at Rockefeller Center? I haven't been in years, but am game if you are."

  "Promise not to laugh when I bust my ass?" Evey teased as she bumped her shoulder against Joan.

  "Scout's honor."

  Joan asked Lou to meet them across the street from Rockefeller Center. They slowly walked the two blocks to the rink and rented skates.

  "Actually, I'm not much of a skater," Joan said as she laced her boots. "We used to bring the kids down every year to watch the lighting of the tree and they skated afterward. You'd be amazed how good you look next to a five-year-old. Practically Olympic quality."

  After nearly an hour of slipping and sliding and being passed on the ice by small children, they gave up and Joan carried their skates back to the counter. When she returned she asked, "How about a walk to get your legs back under you?"

  "Do yours still feel tingly and wobbly, too?" Evey asked.

  "A little. We can cross here and take the walking path that runs in a semi-circle. It comes out about two or three blocks south. I can have Lou meet us there."

  "Is it safe in the park after dark?"

  "It's well-lit and there are a lot of people out because of the rink. It was just an idea. We don't have to do it."

  "Maybe we can find a place to make snow angels," Evey said. She smiled as she watched Joan's face light up at the idea of simply taking a walk. She waited as Joan trotted to the limo and spoke to Lou. She returned quickly as the limo pulled away.

  Joan held her gloved hand out and Evey took it as they hurried across the street. Evey curled her arm over Joan's when they entered the well-lit walking path. She breathed in the cold air and released it in a cloud of white fog.

  "Charmaine told us you've begun dating again," Evey said softly, not knowing why she'd brought it up.

  For a moment Joan looked confused, but then her disastrous evening with Monica came to mind. She cleared her throat. "I attended a charity event last month and invited Monica to accompany me, if that's what you mean. I would hardly call it a date. More of a social commitment."

  "It didn't go well?" Evey leaned forward to look at Joan's face.

  Joan cleared her throat again. "All I can say is it didn't turn out the way I expected," she said.

  Evey laughed.

  "What's so funny?" Joan asked, slightly defensive.

  "That cute little throat clearing thing you do when you're nervous." Evey waved her hand. "Anyway, about this not so successful social commitment."

  "That's all it was. There's not much more to tell." Joan raised her chin. "Besides, I'm not one to kiss and tell."

  "Oh, so you kissed her," Evey said.

  Joan stopped. "I didn't say that."

  "Well, did you or didn't you?"

  "Why does it matter?" Joan asked. It was nothing like the kiss between us before I ran away. Okay so I admit I ran away. It was the right thing to do.

  Evey shrugged. "It doesn't. I was just being nosey." After they had strolled silently for several minutes Evey said, "I didn't mean to upset you."

  "You didn't," Joan said looking down at her.

  Evey rubbed a hand up and down Joan's arm. "What are you thinking about?"

  Suddenly Joan felt overwhelmed by what she was feeling being so close to Evey again. It felt so natural. She had hoped her attraction to Evey Chase had been a passing fantasy. Now she was certain it wasn't. She took Evey's hand and pulled her into a small stand of evergreens off the walkway. "I wasn't really sorry the last time," she whispered as she leaned forward and brushed her lips against Evey's. She was surprised as the lips beneath hers parted immediately in invitation. Joan groaned as her arms enclosed Evey's body and sought to deepen the kiss. She wanted Evey so much. Then Evey pushed away and stared at her.

  "This cannot happen," Evey said, shaking her head and turning away.

  Joan moved behind her and wrapped her arms around Evey. "But it did," Joan said. "And it was wonderful."

  "It can't happen again," Evey said tightly.

  "I know you wanted it as badly as I did."

  Evey pulled Joan's arms away and turned to face her. Joan wasn't sure how to read what she saw in Evey's eyes. "Don't presume to think you know what I want," Evey said fiercely. "I have a family! I can't do this to them! It doesn't matter what I want!" Tears ran down her cheeks and she wiped them away angrily.

  Joan stood stiffly. "I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to offend you. I've obviously made a horrible mistake and suffered from an appalling lack of judgment. I was enjoying our evening together and got carried away. It will never happen again."

  "Stop talking," Evey said. "Please, just don't talk."

  Joan nodded. "Lou should be no more than a few yards away."

  The ride back to Evey's hotel was deafeningly silent. Every time Joan tried to convey again how sorry she was, Evey held her hand out to stop her and continued staring out the window. As soon as the hotel doorman opened the back door of the limo, without looking back, Evey said, "Goodbye, Joan," and bolted from the car.

  "Where to now, boss?" Lou asked, gazing at Joan through the rearview mirror.

  "Home," Joan answered softly, stubbornly fighting back her tears.

  TEARS RAN DOWN Evey's face and she wiped them away with the back of her hand as she leaned against the back of the elevator. It had been a wonderful evening. She hadn't laughed so much and felt so free in years. She had never felt lips as soft and tender before. She wanted Joan to kiss her. She had dreamed about Joan's lips touching hers again since the wedding. She knew she wanted it and knew she was incapable of not responding to the emotions buried inside her. She wanted a kiss that would tell her she was desirable, wanted, cherished. She had never known such a feeling. And how had she reacted? She cruelly drove away the very thing she wanted. She had hurt a woman who had never treated her with anything but respect. Evey exited the elevator and walked quickly to her room. As soon as she closed the door, sobs racked her body and she couldn't stop the
tears. She would never be able to make things right with Joan and she had allowed the brass ring to slip through her fingers once again. Joan must think she was a terrible tease. All evening they had found ways to touch one another innocently, all the while knowing they were far from innocent. Joan's kiss had been her response to those touches, letting Evey know that she welcomed them. Evey lay back on her bed and prayed she would relive those few moments surrounded by the evergreens in her dreams. Her thoughts were interrupted by the shrill ringing of the telephone next to her bed. She sat up and cleared her throat before she picked up the receiver.

  "Hello," she said flatly.

  "You're back," Tully's voice announced the obvious.

  "I told you I would be back early."

  "Are you alone?"

  "Of course I am."

  "I thought Fran's mother might have gotten her filthy hands on you and you couldn't say no," Tully hissed into the receiver. "You looked pretty cozy this afternoon."

  "What I do is not your business, Tully."

  "It is when it hurts the business. How many parents do you think would be willing to shell out good money when there's a chance their instructor is a pervert?"

  "You're the one who suggested I go out tonight."

  "You could have said no."

  "If it makes you feel any better, I wasn't very good company. I'm tired. Make sure the kids are up by six so we can have breakfast before we leave for the arena."

  "I'll see you in the morning," Tully said.

  Evey stared at the phone in her hand, wondering how her other children would react if they had an inkling of how she really felt about Joan Carmichael. What could she possibly say to them? She could never tell them the secret she had hidden away for so many years. They would never believe it anyway. She barely did herself. And then the years had slipped away so quickly. There was no easy way to bring it up, let alone get them to understand. She shook her head. She would never place her happiness before theirs. She knew Tully's reaction already. The same reaction from Beth and Brad would destroy her. Anything between herself and Joan Carmichael would remain a fantasy.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  JOAN EXCUSED LOU for the night and gave her the next day off as well. She was perfectly capable of driving herself or calling a taxi. If the weather was decent she could even leave a little early and walk to work. The fresh air would probably do her good.

  She unlocked the front door of her townhouse. She dropped the key into a large carved bowl in the foyer and removed her parka, hanging it in the entry closet. She walked into the kitchen to prepare a cup of coffee. She found a note from Meg saying the youth group was having a lock-in to prepare for a project after the New Year. While she waited for her coffee, Joan rinsed a few dishes in the sink and placed them in the dishwasher. It reminded her of Evey, who had never had a dishwasher. Joan swallowed hard and wondered if everything was going to remind her of Evey Chase for the rest of her life.

  As she carried her cup upstairs to her sitting room, she wondered what the hell had gone so terribly wrong that evening. She had been happy, truly happy, for the first time since she'd lost Martine. Was it a message from her wife telling her not to bother with another woman? No, Martine had told her before she slipped away, that Joan needed someone in her life. Someone to fulfill her as a woman. It had taken ten long, lonely years and now Joan finally felt ready to at least tentatively explore the possibility of a relationship. She thought she had established a connection with Evey, but obviously Evey had no interest in her. But Joan knew she did. She had seen it in Evey's eyes, felt it as she responded to Joan's kiss. Aside from what her children might think, what else could be keeping the woman at arm's length?

  Joan rubbed her forehead and stared into the remaining embers in her sitting room fireplace. Help me out a little, babe. Tell me what to do. I'll always love you, but I'm so alone without you.

  JOAN RANG THE doorbell and stood back. It was late and she should have called first. She clenched her hands into fists after removing her lambskin gloves. She closed her eyes and ran her fingers over the soft fabric. She sucked in a breath at the feel of them. She heard the lock on the door click and waited as the door opened. Even though it was late, Monica was comfortably dressed in a lightweight lounging outfit.

  "Joan," Monica said, surprise evident in her voice.

  "May I come in?" Joan asked softly.

  "Of course," Monica replied as she stepped away from the door and allowed Joan inside. "This is a pleasant surprise, but sort of late."

  "I can go if it's too late."

  "No, it's fine. Can I get you a drink?"

  "Water is fine," Joan answered, unbuttoning her leather jacket. She looked at Monica before removing it. "May I?"

  "Certainly. Just toss it on a chair," Monica said as she left to retrieve a bottle of water. She returned a moment later and handed it to her guest. "To what do I owe the honor of your presence?" she asked, slipping her hands into the pockets of her lounging pants.

  Joan took a drink and cleared her throat. "I'm sorry it's so late, but I felt the need to apologize for our last meeting. Insulting and apologizing to beautiful women seems to be my specialty these days."

  Monica looked down for a moment. "It was nice to be needed, even for a few hours."

  "You were so beautiful. I got carried away, but didn't mean to insult you."

  Monica laughed. "Let's sit down. It's been a long day and my feet are killing me."

  Joan followed her to the sofa in the main living area and sat down. Monica sat next to the arm of the sofa and drew her feet under her. She rested an arm on the back and propped her head on her hand, looking at Joan with a smile. "Why are you really here, Joan?" she asked.

  "I'm not sure," Joan answered.

  Monica puffed her cheeks out and expelled a loud breath. "I should have given you what you needed that night," she said.

  "And what was that?"

  "I've never seen anyone who needed to be touched so much," Monica answered.

  "I'm sorry I was so obvious."

  "It broke my heart to turn you away, but I wanted more." Monica reached out and took Joan's hand, bringing it to her lips to kiss it lightly. "I still do."

  "Monica, I can't promise you--"

  "Martine was my friend, Joan. We talked about you many times. She was so in love with you and so gloriously happy. I have to admit I was jealous. I've never had that with anyone." She grinned. "And believe me, honey, it wasn't from lack of trying."

  Joan smiled. "You have a lot to offer anyone with the brains to acknowledge it. Which makes me seem a little retarded."

  Monica took another deep breath. "Maybe I wanted to replace Martine in your life, but no one will ever be able to do that. I know that. Maybe I wanted you to see something special in me. I'm not Martine, but I might have been a suitable substitute."

  "No one should ever have to believe they're nothing more than a substitute. It would be a horrible way to see yourself."

  "Your memories of Martine will always be there, lurking."

  Joan looked at Monica. "Memories have their place, but even they fade."

  "Are you afraid they'll eventually fade away, cease to exist?"

  "I don't know anymore," Joan answered softly. She glanced at Monica before speaking again. "I know you and Martine were friends." She smiled. "I think I was always jealous that Martine had someone as a confidante, someone she could talk to when she needed it. I've never had that. I'm sure Martine spoke to you after we had arguments. God knows I was never perfect, but for some reason I never figured out, she loved me."

  "And you worshipped her," Monica said.

  "Yes, I did. Did you know there was never another woman in my life?" Joan shrugged. "I mean, I had slept around a little, but Martine was the only woman who ever took the time to make me appreciate another woman's body." Joan laughed. "I'm sure my previous partners still cringe at how crudely I behaved."

  Monica lowered her hand and hesitated before resting it on
the back of Joan's neck, slowly massaging along her hairline. "You should stay here tonight," she said. She leaned close to Joan's ear and whispered, "Come with me." She stood and took Joan's hand. When Joan looked up at her Monica saw tears hovering at the edges of her eyelids. "It'll be all right, baby. I promise."

  Joan waited as Monica turned the lights off and then followed her down the hallway. Monica opened the door to her guest bedroom. "I'm sure I have something you can sleep in," she said as she flipped on the light switch. Monica stopped and turned to face her. Joan brought her hands up to caress Monica's face. Monica inhaled a slow deep breath as she ran her hands up Joan's arms.

  "Please touch me," Joan said as she pulled the auburn-haired beauty closer and found her lips. Gentle kisses soon turned into passionate demands as Joan's fingers raked into Monica's hair. Without breaking their connection, Joan unzipped Monica's soft top and pushed it over her shoulders. Tears rolled down her face as she lowered her mouth to the creamy temptation beneath. She released the front clasp of Monica's lacy brassiere to expose full breasts and rosy nipples that were already hardened. She pressed her mouth over one nipple and sucked it into her mouth, feeling the quick intake of Monica's breath.

  "Tell me what you want," Monica said as she brought Joan's mouth up to meet hers again. "I'll give you anything you need."

  "I want you to touch me," Joan said as she held Monica in her arms.

  Joan riveted her eyes on Monica's as she removed her shirt. Her abdomen tightened as Monica unzipped and pushed her slacks over her hips. After what seemed like a flurry of touching and kissing, Joan fought to control herself as Monica led her to the bed.

  JOAN DIDN'T KNOW what time it was when bright light finally penetrated her eyelids. She didn't really care as she felt her skin touch the warm body curled against her. She tightened her arm to draw the warmth closer and buried her face in the sweet smell of soft hair and inhaled deeply. She groaned as the body rolled over and soft breasts pressed into her own. Her hand floated lightly down the curve of a full hip and lips touched hers.