Grace was trying hard to compromise, and Liv loved her for it. She wanted to smack herself for not thinking of Grace’s fears when putting things together for the wedding. She should have remembered that big crowds were a huge problem for her.
Liv tightened her grip before pulling away from Grace. She kissed her lips and said, “I’ll break up the list. Maybe we can have an extra party the day before we leave for our honeymoon. Sound like a plan?”
“Perfect.”
“I love you,” Liv said.
“I love you, too.”
Chapter Ten
Once a month, Pot O’ Gold held a ladies-only dance night. The pub was pretty much known as a lesbian bar, but most weekends there was a mixed crowd. However, the first Friday of the month belonged to the ladies, and Sara loved it. She ordered their drinks and joined Bren, Liv, and Grace at their usual booth, far enough from the dance floor to be able to speak above the music but close enough she could see the dancers.
She tapped her feet to the latest Adele song and smiled when Bren leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Want to dance?”
“You have to ask?” Sara jumped up, held Bren’s hand, and pulled her to the dance floor.
Bren molded herself to Sara, and their bodies gyrated as one. Their hips rubbed together in the most pleasant way, and Sara wondered how long her libido would last. She wanted to dance all night, yet the look in Bren’s eyes told her she had more on her mind than dancing.
Was it her youth that brought out the sex maniac in Sara? She’d done casual many, many times in her life, but this was something different. There was something about Bren that kept her wanting more. At the same time, she couldn’t. Because, ultimately, they weren’t right for each other. She and Bren were good right now but not in the long term. But the sex—whoa. Sara tingled all over thinking about how their night would end.
The music stopped while the DJ took a quick break. Sara held Bren’s hand as they left the dance floor. They slipped back into the booth, and Sara took a long, slow drink of her beer.
“I love ladies night,” Bren said with a huge grin. “We should have these every night.”
“Amen to that.” Liv clinked beer mugs with her. She turned to Grace when a slow song started up. “C’mon, babe. We need to dance to this one.”
“We need to?” Grace asked.
“Yep. I need to dance with my future wife. Get some practice in for the wedding.”
“In that case…” Grace laughed and allowed Liv to pull her to the dance floor.
Sara watched them hold each other, eyes locked in a way that said no one else existed. She wanted to have someone look at her like that again.
She pulled her gaze away from Liv and Grace and took note of the women at the bar. The place was steadily filling up, and for a split second, she thought she saw a very familiar woman wearing blue glasses and a distinctive leather jacket. But it couldn’t be, right? Terry never came to the pub anymore. Not since their breakup. At least, Sara didn’t think she did. Not after those pictures her father-in-law had.
But she knew Terry as well as she knew herself, and she was damn sure it was her at the bar. Several women now swarmed the area she’d seen Terry in, yelling out orders.
“Hey, you okay?” Bren rested her hand lightly on Sara’s thigh. “You’ve been staring at the bar a long time. Do you need me to get you something?”
“No. I thought I saw Terry. Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Bren removed her hand, and her eyes reflected sadness. “You want to go see if it was her?”
“Yes, but I’m not going to.” Sara put her hand over Bren’s. “I’m not here with her. I’m here with you. That’s important to me.”
“You’re sweet. You know that?”
Sara shrugged. “It’d be super rude to leave you sitting here so I can chase down my ex, don’t you think?”
“Maybe. But I’d understand.”
“No. I got my closure with her, Bren. That’s done now.”
Bren squeezed her hand. “No, it’s not. Sara, we haven’t known each other very long, but you have to know that you’re very easy to read. I mean you practically telegraph your thoughts with your facial expressions.” She brought Sara’s hand to her lips and kissed her fingers. “Yes, you talked with Terry. But it was more a fight than anything else. I don’t think you got any closure. I think it confused you more.”
“How old are you?” Sara teased her. “You sound like Gracie. Have you two been talking?”
“Nope. I’m just very observant. And practical.”
“Don’t forget adorable.” Sara touched the side of Bren’s face with her fingertips, wishing she could fall into those sweet eyes of hers. But she couldn’t because Bren was right. No matter what happened between them, she was still very much in love with Terry.
“I might be adorable, but you’re beautiful and you’ve got the attention of a lot of women in here. Especially that knockout at the bar.”
“You’re full of shit. No one notices me unless I’m up there dancing and making a fool of myself in the process. Not that I care, mind you.”
“I’m serious,” Bren said and pointed to the woman in question. “She’s been staring at us for the last couple minutes.”
At the bar, sipping a glass of wine, sat Angel. She was indeed watching them. More like glaring at them, Sara thought. She didn’t acknowledge her and turned away. “Fuck.”
“Who is she?”
Sara considered her response. Bren reminded her a bit of Liv when it came to that protective streak. She wasn’t as bad as Liv—few people were. Though she wondered what Bren might do. “Promise me you won’t go near her.”
“Is she the one that dumped you out of her car? That’s Angel Harrison?”
“Dammit. Yes. Promise me you won’t go over there. Do not engage her, Bren. I’m serious.”
Bren’s eyes were on Angel. Sara saw the indecision and was glad she was blocking Bren from sliding out of the booth. Bren said, “I will tonight. But I can’t say I won’t respond if I see her somewhere else. Like on the street or something.”
“Thanks, but don’t waste your time on her. Okay? She’s so not worth it.” She pulled Bren’s attention back to her with a kiss. “Let’s do some more dancing. We came here to have fun. Let’s not allow that bitch to ruin it, okay?”
“Sure.” Bren motioned for Sara to get up, and they returned to the dance floor. Bren pulled Sara so close there wasn’t air between them. “Better?”
“Much,” Sara said and leaned into her. She closed her eyes and allowed Bren to lead her to the beat of another slow song as she shut out all thoughts of Angel and Terry and tried very hard to be present for the sweet, kind woman who held her in a loving embrace.
****
Terry went to the restroom at the pub, closed herself into a stall, and leaned against the door. What did she honestly expect? That Sara would be sitting at home pining away for her? She was a vivacious, fun-loving woman who deserved to move on with her life. She deserved to be happy.
The blue-haired girl with Sara was damn cute, and the way they danced together very much reminded Terry of the way she and Sara danced. Sara loved to be all sexy and fun with her movements, and she was. Damn. She certainly hadn’t lost that talent.
Terry was torn between being happy for Sara and being angry she’d moved on. It was obvious she and the girl were together, sharing little touches and kisses as they sat at the booth with Liv and Grace. Terry felt like a damn stalker watching them, but it was hard to pull her gaze away. It was perfect timing when that crowd of women came to the bar. She was pretty sure Sara had seen her.
Terry cursed her mother for being so insistent she go out tonight. The pub was the last place she wanted to be, but it was also the only place she felt even a little comfortable going to. She’d taken a cab here, as always, and hoped William no longer had someone following her. Still, even if she had one drink she wouldn’t chanc
e driving home.
But the beer caused her stomach to roil and threatened to make her puke. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks as she realized she wasn’t ready for any of this. It was hard enough to date after Ann. Even harder to think of doing it after Sara. And really, how could she? No one would ever replace Ann, though Sara certainly filled that hole in Terry’s life quite well. Now it was empty again, and she didn’t think she’d ever want to fill it.
She was probably being overly dramatic, but Terry’s feelings spilled out as she sobbed. She covered her mouth to stifle the sound when she heard someone come into the restroom.
She closed her eyes, held her breath for a moment, and forced herself to get a grip. This was not the place to fall apart. If she were going to do that, she should do so at home when Felicia was asleep. Or maybe in her car in the driveway. That always seemed to work.
The woman who entered the restroom finished her business and left. Terry opened the door of the stall and went to the sink to splash cold water on her face. Her reflection mirrored how she felt inside. Miserable. And without friends to talk it over with.
She took a deep breath and released it slowly. It was time to leave. No sense her staying there and wallowing in self pity. She could do that at home.
Terry reached for the bathroom door and nearly ran into Liv Templeton. “Sorry,” she mumbled and kept going.
Liv stopped her. “Hey, you okay?” She looked at Terry for a very long moment, her brow furrowed.
“No. I’m not.”
“I know it might not be comfortable, but you can join us if you’d like. You don’t have to be here alone.”
Terry gave her a tight smile. “I can’t. Sorry, Liv. Being around me—let’s just say that’s not what Sara wants or needs right now.”
“But what do you need?” Liv asked. Her concern was clear, and for a moment, Terry considered whether Liv was someone she could talk to. But as Sara’s best friend…she didn’t think it’d be a good idea to cry on Liv’s shoulder.
“I don’t know. Probably time to figure out what the hell I’m going to do with my life.”
She made another move to leave, but Liv stepped in front of her, gently pushing her aside to let someone else through the door. “Terry, you don’t have to do this alone. We’re friends, right?”
“You’re Sara’s best friend.”
“But I’m your friend, too. I mean, I’d like to be.”
Terry patted Liv on the shoulder, this time maneuvering to open the door. “You’re a good person, Liv. I’d like to think of you as a friend, yes.”
“Then use me as one, too. You’ve got my number. If you need to talk, call me.”
“I will. Have a fun night,” Terry said and got the hell out of that restroom. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and tapped the app to call a cab. She couldn’t help watching Sara and her girlfriend as she passed them. Grace was there as well, and the three of them were having a good time.
Terry heard the sound of Sara’s laughter in her memory and held onto it as she left the pub to wait for her cab.
****
Monday came around and offered Terry a fresh start to her week. She’d put the weekend behind her and looked forward to the work she’d be doing at one of TNT’s claims. It was a rare piece of land that had yet to be mined, and she couldn’t wait to get out there and survey the area. Even in the frozen ground they could drill through it to get a good sample of dirt. Her job was to find the dirt they needed to drill through.
Her mind was pulled away from that bit of excitement when the office phone rang.
“This is Terry,” she answered.
“Terry,” Warrick Shue said, “can you come up here next Monday? We’d like to go over your reports to take back to the board of directors. If Frank can come as well, that’d be great. I want to talk about the work he did last year and compare it to what you found.”
Terry paused to consider this. The timing was awful. Dresden was a thirty-hour drive from Whitehorse. She’d have to fly even if she didn’t want the expense of it. Jackie wasn’t yet sure when the mediation with William was going to take place. Could she afford to be gone a couple of days? Could she afford not to be?
“Let me get with Frank, though I doubt he’s got anything going on,” she finally said. “I’ll be happy to come up there and go over the reports. I’d need to return on Wednesday. Would that be okay?”
“Perfect. We’ll meet with you on Monday and do a site visit on Tuesday.” She heard him typing on his computer. “I’ll book hotel rooms for both of you.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it, Mr. Shue. I’ll get with Frank and send you an email.”
“Excellent. Have a good day.”
“You, too.” Terry hung up and sighed. No way would she let anything slip with this contract. They paid very well, and that would increase if her findings were correct. And she was sure they were. She sort of wished she was a miner and could get busy digging up diamonds for herself. A handful ought to be enough to get her through this damn mediation and keep William off her back.
She dialed Jackie’s number, left a message, and did the same with Frank. For a retired guy, he was busier than she was. She considered calling her mom, but that thought was derailed by a call coming in from Felicia’s school.
“This is Terry.”
“Hi, Terry, Sally Johnson here. I’m sorry to call you, but there’s been an incident with Felicia.”
“An incident?”
“Yes. You remember when she kissed Bryce Preston?”
“I do.”
Sally hesitated. “Something happened and Bryce shoved her. He said some hurtful things, and Felicia shut down. She won’t speak to anyone.”
“Do you know what he said?” Terry asked, already tossing paperwork into her briefcase.
“One of the teachers overheard Bryce calling her ugly names. Referring to her as a retard. I’ve already called his parents, and they’re on the way.”
“So am I. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” Terry locked her office door and raced to her truck. On the way, she noticed someone across the street, watching her. The woman was bundled up in a thick winter coat, her face obscured by the fur-lined hood, but Terry thought she knew her somehow. She brushed the thought aside and left.
She arrived at the school in record time and went directly to Sally’s office. Sally gestured her to come in and closed the door behind her. Felicia was seated on a chair in front of Sally’s desk.
Terry went to her child. She knelt in front of her and put a hand on her knee. Hazel eyes tracked to her face, and she saw the pain in them. “Hi, sweetie. Bad day?”
Felicia nodded.
“Mrs. Johnson told me what happened with Bryce.”
Felicia didn’t blink; she kept her eyes on Terry. Terry waited, knowing the wheels were turning in Felicia’s brain as she tried to figure out what to say. Or not say.
“You don’t have to talk right now. I’m going to take you home, but I need to talk to Bryce’s parents first. That okay with you?”
“Yeah,” Felicia said, her voice softer than usual.
Terry pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head. “I love you, baby. You wait here for me. I won’t be long.”
Felicia hugged her back for all she was worth, put her hands in her lap, and went back to staring straight ahead. Terry stood and motioned for Sally to step outside the office. Once the door was closed behind them, Terry said, “Are his parents here?”
“They got in just after you. They’re in with Principal Gillam right now.”
“Can I speak to them?” Terry asked, nearly biting her tongue to stay calm. She really wanted to hit something.
“I think it’s best we all sit down to discuss this.” Sally put her hand gently on Terry’s arm. “Are you sure you’re up for it? We can take a few minutes if you need to.”
“No. I want to get it over with so I can take Felicia home. Please?”
Mr. Gillam was seated behind his desk, a man and woman across from him in faux-leather chairs. Sally moved two more chairs to the desk, and they sat down after brief introductions were made.
Mr. Gillam was in his late sixties; a hint of grey stubble lined the bottom of his bald scalp. His dark brown eyes were sharp as they took in the group seated before him. He folded his hands on his desk, his face a mask as he spoke.
“I want to say, first off, that Whitehorse Elementary has a zero tolerance policy. This applies to the use of epithets such as the one used by Bryce. What I find most disturbing is his lack of empathy at the use of such a word. I’m going to suspend him immediately.”
Mrs. Preston, a short, round woman, looked as though she was going to cry. She said, “Mr. Gillam, is that really necessary? He’s only eight. How does he know what that word means? He must have heard some other children using it.”
“That is entirely possible, but I can’t allow this to happen. Zero tolerance, Mrs. Preston, doesn’t have an age limit.”
Mr. Preston spoke up. “This is bullshit.” His hands were balled into fists in his lap, his angry expression directed at Terry. She returned the anger. The man was a behemoth, but Terry didn’t blink. “My kid called her kid a retard. So what? Doesn’t mean anything. Besides, she is a retard so what’s the big-ass deal?”
Terry opened her mouth to speak, but Mr. Gillam stopped her. “The big deal is that your son deliberately used that word to hurt Felicia. And he doesn’t seem to understand why she’s hurt or care that he did it. I’m sorry, Mr. Preston, but that’s an issue we need to address. He must understand one cannot use such words.”
“Why? Not politically correct? Is that it?” His glare never left Terry, even though he was addressing Mr. Gillam. “Why the hell is she here anyway? She needs to go to one of those special schools.”
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