by Lyn Denison
“You were enjoying kissing me,” Shann said, her heart sinking.
“You’re very good at it but—” She shrugged.
“Better than Evan Radford?” Shann said in a half-hearted attempt at a joke, but she felt far from amused.
“I haven’t kissed him yet.”
“Yet? Do you intend to?”
Leigh shrugged again.
“What about us?”
“We’re friends.”
Shann gave a derisive laugh. “Friends don’t kiss like that.”
“We won’t be doing it again.”
“You don’t mean that.” Shann said flatly. “Do you?”
“Shann, I can’t . . . I don’t want to be, well, that different. I need to . . .” She stopped and looked helplessly at Shann.
“Conform?” Shann finished bitterly.
“Call it what you like. I just think we should forget this ever happened.”
“Can you?” Shann asked her, the ache of tears in her throat. She knew it was impossible on her part, and she suspected Leigh wouldn’t find it as easy as she thought it would.
“We have to forget it if we still want to be friends.”
And it was a whole year before Shann kissed Leigh again.
Shann sighed. For a long time she’d regretted that she’d allowed Leigh to dictate the terms of their relationship. Or non-relationship. But what could she have done? She hadn’t wanted to lose Leigh altogether.
She’d had to stand by and watch as Leigh went out first with Lex Ellis and then, after she broke up with him, with Evan Radford.
Yet all the while Leigh found small ways to touch Shann. An arm around her waist. Leaning against her as they watched Angie play softball. Getting Shann to teach her to slow dance. It had been exquisite torture for Shann. She’d told herself she was a fool to allow Leigh to get to her, but Shann was in love with her.
Then Leigh had had an argument with Evan, and she’d cried on Shann’s shoulder. Shann had hugged her comfortingly and after a while, Leigh’s tears had stopped. She’d looked at Shann for long moments before leaning forward and kissing her. After that when they managed some time alone they’d kiss and cuddle. Sometimes Leigh would let Shann caress her breasts, but anything below the waist was taboo. After all, Leigh explained, she wasn’t a lesbian.
The breeze gusted again, and Shann shivered. She should get to bed. She was weary from driving and emotionally exhausted from her meeting with her father. It had gone so much better than she’d anticipated, and she was so grateful for that. Still it had worn her out.
She straightened from the window, but as she did she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. Someone was moving on the Callahans’ back deck. The figure crossed to the railings, and Shann drew instinctively back into the shadows. She recognized the tall figure immediately. She still wore the dark jeans and the light gray sweatshirt. Her short fair hair gleamed in the moonlight.
Angie Callahan had her hands in her pockets, and there was an air of defeat in her stance as she leaned against the veranda post. As Shann watched she turned and walked slowly back toward the door. Pausing for a moment, she touched the hammock, making it swing slowly back and forward before she continued on, disappearing into the house. The light in what used to be Leigh’s bedroom came on and then went off.
Shann let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
Chapter Three
As the next few days passed Shann and Corey settled in with their family. Shann enrolled Corey in her old school, and he had already made some new friends, including a little girl who lived down the street.
Shann met the capable woman from a family assist group who came each morning to help her father with his shower and Derek, the young physiotherapist who worked with her father three times a week. She supposed she would describe her new relationship with her father as an armed truce. They both walked carefully, fearful of upsetting their newfound suspension of hostilities.
Corey was definitely their saving grace. With each passing day she could see that grandfather and grandson grew closer. Not that she was surprised. Corey was a joy to have around. He was interested in anything and everything and had a wacky sense of humor.
Liz was saying as much as they sat on the back deck sharing a pot of tea. Corey was at school, and their father was resting after his physio session.
“Corey’s so special, Shann,” Liz said. “And did you notice Gerard actually held a conversation with him last night? I was speechless.” Liz’s son had arrived home the day before.
Shann chuckled. “I think Gerard was amazed that Corey even knew what orienteering was. I couldn’t believe how much like Pat Gerard looks.”
Liz nodded. “But he’s quiet like Rhys. Getting information out of them both is like pulling teeth. I learned more about his week away listening to his conversation with Corey than I did questioning him when I picked him up.” Liz looked up and waved. “Morning, Angie.”
Shann turned in her seat to see Angie Callahan on the deck next door.
“Feel like a cuppa?” Liz called, and Angie nodded.
She jogged easily down the steps, vaulted the low fence and walked up onto their deck. “This is very civilized,” she said with a grin. “Taking tea in the fresh air.”
Today she wore a pair of dark gray slacks and a white tailored shirt, open at the throat, the V of her neckline disappearing into the tantalizing shadow of her cleavage.
“Morning, Shann.” She smiled, her eyes crinkling, and Shann felt that same disquieting spark of attraction.
As Angie sat down Liz went inside to get another teacup.
“Settled in all right?” Angie asked Shann easily, and Shann pulled herself together to reply.
“Just about. Seems a bit weird though. Sometimes I feel as though the last ten years never happened. Then I look in the mirror,” Shann laughed derisively. “That brings everything into perspective.”
Angie’s gaze moved over Shann’s face. “As I said before you haven’t changed that much. Your hair’s longer. That’s about it.”
“Don’t forget the character lines.”
Angie laughed softly again.
And once again that low, so enticing sound played havoc with Shann’s composure. A small fire began inside her, tingling along her nerve endings, awakening feelings she thought would lay dormant forever.
“Character lines? Now what can I say to that?” Angie appealed. “Whatever I say you’d end up either wrinkled or characterless. And you’re neither.”
“Thank you, you charmer, you.” Shann inclined her head. “But you’re the one who’s changed, you know.”
“You mean I’ve grown up?”
Shann shook her head. “Not just that. You were always so, well—” She sought a description that accurately defined the young girl Angie had been ten years earlier.
“So dull and boring?” Angie suggested.
“No. Definitely not dull, or boring. I was thinking shy, quiet, and retiring.”
“Well, she’s not shy and retiring now,” stated Liz as she rejoined them.
“Absolutely not retiring,” Angie agreed. “And everyone probably wishes I was still quiet.”
Liz handed Angie a cup of tea. “So how come you’re not hard at work?”
Angie rolled her eyes. “Mike’s playing golf, and Ann’s got a dental appointment so I’m babysitting the dog from hell for a couple of hours.” She motioned toward the deck, and Shann noticed Tiger sprawled out in a patch of sun, fast asleep. “I took him for a run, and now he’s resting. I’ve showered and have to get back to work. Apparently it is a dog’s life.”
“You must have an understanding boss if you can have time off work when you want it,” Shann said, and Liz and Angie burst out laughing.
“I guess I do,” Angie said still grinning.
“Shann, Angie is the boss,” Liz explained, and Shann stared at the other girl in surprise.
“You are? I drove by the shop. It’s huge now.”<
br />
“Not only is she the boss, but she’s the owner of the whole kit and caboodle.”
“You own it?” Shann was now totally astounded.
Angie nodded. “Lock, stock, and overdraft.”
“How long . . . What made you want to own a hardware store?”
“I worked there part time when I was going to Uni. Then the owners said they were going to close the place down and retire. Well, there were a lot of jobs that would be lost, and I had the opportunity to buy it,” Angie shrugged. “So I did.”
“But it used to be a small corner store. When did they extend it?” Shann asked.
“I did that. I acquired a couple of properties adjacent to the shop and extended the building. It was a much-needed extension, too. It was necessary to augment the stock, diversify, if you like, for me to stay competitive.” She gave Shann another of her level looks. “You’ll have to call in, and I’ll give you a guided tour.”
“I’ll hold you to that. I love hardware stores.” Shann flushed a little. “Corey always ends up having to drag me out of them.”
“Oh,” said Angie, continuing to hold Shann’s gaze as she lifted her teacup to her mouth.
And Shann couldn’t seem to look away. She was almost mesmerized by the way Angie’s lips pursed, sipped her tea, and then her tongue tip dampened her lips. A shaft of pure desire clutched at Shann, and she grew suddenly hot, her nerve endings clamoring. She wanted to reach out, replace that inanimate teacup with her own tingling lips. “I’ll hold you to the guided tour,” she said to diffuse some of the tension Angie must surely feel crackling in the air between them.
At that moment Tiger stumbled to his feet and gave a loud woof.
“Oh ho! My intrepid watchdog tells me either Ann is home or we’re being robbed. I’d better get home and investigate.” She glanced at her watch and stood up. “And I’d better get back to work before I’m forced to fire myself.”
“Well, don’t do it until I get my tour,” Shann said lightly enough.
“No, I won’t.” Angie laughed and lightly touched Shann’s arm.
Shann fancied she could feel the heat of that light touch burning through the flannelette of her shirt.
“Thanks for the tea, Liz. See you, Shann.” She crossed to the steps and paused, glanced back. “Call in any time, Shann,” she said, and then she was gone. She waved from the deck next door and then disappeared into the house with Tiger scrambling behind her.
“I don’t hold out much hope for that dog graduating from puppy school,” Shann remarked, and Liz grimaced.
“Well, we do have backup there. Corey’s diligently reading his How to Train Your Puppy book.” Liz refilled her cup from the large teapot.
“I’m amazed that Angie owns a hardware store.” Shann commented as casually as she could. “When did all that happen?”
“About three years ago. She inherited money from her grandmother.”
Shann raised her eyebrows. “Her grandmother? You mean, her mother’s mother? I thought she had no other relatives besides her parents and Ann and Mike.”
“So we all thought,” Liz concurred. “Angie’s mother always said her parents were dead. That’s why Angie was given into Ann and Mike’s custody when Angie’s mother went to jail.”
“Did the grandparents know about Angie?”
“Apparently not. Angie’s mother had problems with drugs as a teenager. She ran away from home when she was sixteen, and I have no idea why her parents didn’t try to find her. She was their only child.” Liz shook her head. “After the father died the mother must have had a change of heart, willed her estate to her daughter, Angie’s mother. It was a considerable estate, too.”
“When did the grandmother die?”
“A few weeks before her daughter it seems. Remember I told you Angie’s mother died about five years ago. That’s when they discovered the letter from the grandmother’s solicitors. Angie’s mother hadn’t even opened it. There were a couple of years of legal mumbo jumbo, and then Angie was recognized as the sole beneficiary. And it couldn’t have happened to a nicer kid.”
Shann nodded.
“She had a hell of a life before she came to live with the Callahans. She was taken out of her mother’s care half a dozen times and put into foster care. Every time the mother would go into drug rehab, come out, take Angie home, and it would start again.”
“What about her father? Wasn’t he Mike Callahan’s brother?”
“Stepbrother or half brother or something,” Liz frowned. “He barely acknowledged Angie’s existence from what Ann told me. He certainly didn’t marry Angie’s mother. They had an on-again off-again sort of relationship. Angie hasn’t seen him since he left when she was six. No one knows where he is or even if he’s alive.”
“No wonder Angie was such a quiet little thing.”
Liz nodded. “She was always such a good kid though, and really smart. Even with all the schooling she missed it didn’t take her long to catch up once she got settled with the Callahans, and she hasn’t looked back.”
“I remember helping her with her math once.” Shann remembered Leigh was supposed to do it, but she wanted to go down to the shopping center. They’d argued, and Shann had ended up staying with Angie. “Not that I could help her all that much.” She laughed. “It was so embarrassing. She was better than I was. She could have tutored me.”
“She has a degree in business management or something.”
Casually Shann took a sip of her now lukewarm tea. “Is she—? I didn’t notice a ring. Is she seeing anyone?”
“I don’t think so. Not that Angie would tell us. She’s always kept that side of her life fairly private.”
“She’s so attractive, and she has such an outgoing personality you’d expect guys would be beating down her door.” Part of Shann cringed at the way she was pumping her sister for information but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.
“Oh, Angie has lots of friends but no one special I don’t think. I know Ann’s worried about her, wants to see her settled down and happy. You know what mothers are like.” Liz giggled. “I shouldn’t laugh, but not long ago Ann tried to set Angie up with the son of a friend at her bridge club. Angie was dead against it, but Ann persisted until Angie gave in and went out with the guy.”
“And?”
Liz smothered a laugh. “Angie went off on a week’s holiday next day. She told Ann she needed a week away to get over it and to cease and desist with the matchmaking.”
“So the guy didn’t measure up?”
“No. Angie told me he was a nice enough guy, but she wasn’t interested.”
“Hmmm.” Shann said noncommittally.
“You think Angie’s gay, don’t you?” Liz whispered.
“Why do you say that?” Shann asked in surprise.
“I don’t know. She doesn’t look gay. Maybe it’s that you watch her.” Liz shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “I don’t know why I asked you that. Perhaps I shouldn’t have.”
“Gay people don’t always look stereotypically gay, Liz. Apart from that, I don’t know if Angie’s a lesbian or not. I haven’t seen her for ten years, and I’m just amazed at the change in her. And apart from that, how do you know anyone’s sexual orientation just by looking at him or her? We don’t all wave rainbow flags,” Shann said, admonishing her sister.
“I suppose that’s true. You’d never know with you.” Liz paused. “You’re sure you still are?”
Shann sighed. Her sister was certainly persistent. “It’s not something you turn on and off, Liz. I can’t change even if I wanted to. Which I don’t.”
“The rational part of me knows that, but when it equates down to my little sister I, well, I worry about you. I just want you to be happy.”
“I am happy. And if someone special comes along who knows?”
“But it’s so hard for you, Shann. Life’s geared to being heterosexual. You’re just expected to meet a guy, settle down, have kids.”
“So, what�
�s wrong with meet a woman and settle down?”
“But there are people who hate gays.”
“I know. But I can’t live my life being dictated to by people like that.”
“I still worry.”
“Try not to, Liz. Look, I’m not going to shout it from the rooftops, but I’m certainly not going to deny it. Even to Dad,” she added flatly.
“He’s never spoken about it. Not to me.”
“It’s okay, Liz. I know how he feels about it. He told me in no uncertain terms years ago.”
“Shann, he was upset then, and, just for the record, he was far more upset about not knowing where you were than he was about, well, anything else.”
“You know the sad part is that when we had that last argument the only thing he accused me of that was true was being a lesbian.”
“You never really told me what happened.”
“Just the usual screaming match that fluctuated between accusations of lesbianism and loose morals and quiet denunciations that I’d let everyone down.”
“Oh Shann.” Liz’s expression was heavy with distress. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s in the past, Liz. There’s no point in dredging it up again.”
“Perhaps not.” Liz reached out and squeezed Shann’s hand. “But you know I’m here if you do need to talk.”
“Thanks, Liz.”
“So.” She rested her chin on her hands and grinned at Shann. “Are you attracted to Angie?” she asked, her voice conspiratorially low.
Taken by surprise, Shann felt herself blush. Wasn’t that the problem she kept refusing to acknowledge since she’d come face to face with Angie Callahan her first night home? She was attracted to Angie, and she had no idea what she was going to do about it. “Come on, Liz. I’m too old for her.”
“Too old? That’s rubbish,” stated Liz. “She’s only what? Three or four years younger than you? Rhys is five years older than I am. Dad was four years older than Mum, and he’s eight years older than Ruth.”
“Yes, well, let’s just agree that anyone would find Angie attractive, female or male. And talking of Ruth, when’s she actually due home?”
