Infinite Loop

by Meghan O'Brien

  Mel stared at him, incredulous. “Are you kidding me? You expect me to help you when you never bothered to help Mike and me when we were kids? You want me to support you now that you’re sick? Where was my support? Or Mike’s?” Mel’s voice trembled a little with her anger, the hint of weakness further fueling her rage. “Do you even realize how ridiculous you are? You won’t even help yourself. Are you going to stop drinking?”

  “I think you’d better be very careful about the way you talk to me, girl. Do you think you’re too old—”

  “Yes,” she answered his unfinished question in a controlled voice. “I am too old. I’m too old for you to talk to me like this, too old for your intimidation, and I’m too goddamn old for you to try and make me feel guilty anymore.” Her voice was full of venom and he flinched at her angry words.

  Blue eyes flashed and Mel tensed her body in anticipation of a violent reaction from the man across from her. She shifted closer to Regan on the couch. Fuck, I’m pushing this. The minute he explodes, we’re outta here.

  Martin Raines didn’t explode. His voice was cold now, his eyes hard and glittering. “I have always supported you. I gave you a roof over your head and food to eat. I encouraged you to work hard because I cared about you, about how you’d turn out. I’m proud of you, Laney.”

  “Don’t lie!” Mel’s voice rose for the first time. “You’ve never been proud of me. Not one day. I spent the first eighteen years of my life trying to be the best at everything I did, just to make you happy. All I ever wanted was to hear you say you were proud of me, so why am I hearing it now for the first time?”

  “Laney, I—”

  Mel didn’t let him finish. “Though I guess in a way I should be thanking you for how I turned out, right? I mean, with all your support and everything, you have been quite the influence in my life. So many miserable things about me I owe to you.”

  That was it. He exploded. “Listen, you little bitch!” He pitched forward in his chair to lean his elbows against his knees, breathing hard, before pushing himself up to tower over her and Regan. “Who the hell do you think you are, talking to me like that? I’m making an effort here, welcoming you back into my home, ignoring the fact that you’re flaunting your disgusting lifestyle in my face.” He glared over at Regan, hate darkening his eyes.

  Mel rose from the couch without hesitation, getting right into her father’s face. She gave him a cold smile when he looked away from her silent lover on the couch. “There, that’s more like it. This is what I remember. Keep going, Dad.” She folded her arms in front of her chest, refusing to break their gaze.

  I fucking dare you to try something. I’m not a kid anymore and you can’t hurt me.

  “You’ve never failed to disappoint me, Laney.” His voice grew chilly. “The one good thing you ever accomplished, becoming a cop, and you managed to screw that one up, too.”

  Disgust colored his face and Mel waited to feel the internal blow of his disapproval. It didn’t come. Instead, she felt tired. Damn tired of this all. “I don’t need you anymore, Dad. I especially don’t need your approval. I like who I am…who I’m becoming, for the first time in my life. That’s what matters. Not you.”

  Her father shook with rage. For a moment he sputtered wordlessly, as if unable to form a coherent thought, before he growled a choked, “Get the fuck out of my house, you ungrateful little cunt. Take your dyke friend with you. Don’t give me a reason to beat your queer ass again.”

  Mel held her father’s gaze for a moment, then dropped her eyes to Regan. Her lover’s outward demeanor was calm, placid, despite the muted fear Mel could see in her green eyes. Mel offered her a hand and Regan accepted it gracefully, allowing Mel to pull her to her feet. They stood side by side as Mel answered his threat in a quiet voice. “Goodbye, Dad.”

  Her entire body shook with adrenaline but she turned her back to him, something she never would have done as a child. Guiding Regan in front of her, keeping her own body between her father and her lover, Mel headed for the front door.

  They stepped outside without a word, neither turning their head at the sound of the angry voice behind them. “Don’t come back here, Laney. Ever. Not ever again.”

  Mel gave a silent nod. She didn’t even spare a glance backward as she walked away.

  *

  “You know, I think my mom would be proud of me.”

  “I think so, too,” Regan agreed. I know I am.

  She could feel the nervous energy rolling off Mel in waves, and she felt an answering thrum in her own body. The quiet they shared as they drove away from Mel’s childhood home was comfortable, an acknowledgement that no words were needed, but the atmosphere was electric. Something had changed and they both seemed to know it.

  Regan stopped in front of a park, killing the engine without a word. She and Mel both opened their doors and hopped out of the truck, walking around to meet in front of it in a fierce embrace.

  “Mel, you were incredible,” Regan whispered. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m more than okay. I’m happy,” Mel affirmed. “So happy. Thank you.”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “Yes, you did. You believed in me. You stood by me. You’ll never know how much that means to me.” She cupped Regan’s face in both hands, holding her gaze with serious eyes. “You mean the world to me, Regan O’Riley.”

  Mel swallowed Regan’s small cry at the declaration, leaning forward and taking her mouth in a passionate kiss. Regan groaned low in her throat. The kiss told her a million things Mel hadn’t yet spoken aloud, and it invited her to feel completely safe and loved. She was panting when they broke apart, leaning her forehead against Mel’s, overcome by bliss.

  “Thank you for trusting me.” Regan paused, considering. “I…you mean the world to me, too, Mel. I always want to be there for you.”

  Mel took Regan by the hand and led them around a chain-link fence that separated the park from the street, then to a playground that adjoined a small elementary school. A large swing-set sat abandoned and still in the moonlight, its row of plastic swings suspended by glinting silver chains. Mel released Regan’s hand and claimed the end swing, plopping down with a grin before wrapping her hands around the metallic links that framed her body.

  Regan sat down on the swing to Mel’s left, pushing off with her feet to sway back and forth. For a moment the only sound was the gentle creaking of the swing and the scraping of her Doc Martens in the soft dirt beneath their feet.

  “He really is an asshole, isn’t he?” Mel asked after a moment.

  Regan gave Mel a sympathetic nod. “Yes.”

  “When I saw him, I don’t know…” Mel pushed her own swing into gentle motion. “I can’t believe I gave him so much power over me.”

  “He’s your father,” Regan said. “That’s why he had that kind of power.”

  “I know. I know that being hurt by what he did is natural. I was a defenseless kid. But it’s over now. If I let him continue hurting me as an adult, that’s my fault. So I won’t. Not anymore.”

  Regan gave her a tender smile. After a moment, she said, “I have to admit that I was a little scared. He really hated seeing me, huh?”

  “You were scared? I thought I was going pass out. I don’t know if I could have done what I just did if you hadn’t been there.”

  Regan snapped her head up to catch Mel’s eyes. “You could have. You would have.”

  Mel reached up and grabbed the chains of Regan’s swing, arresting it so they could face one another. Leaning forward, she brought her mouth to Regan’s. “Don’t argue with me,” she whispered against Regan’s lips. “Feeling you there…it was like everything became clear. I really looked at him. And he was just a sick, pathetic old man and not a terrifying monster, the one from when I was a kid.” Mel flashed her a shy grin. “You saved me.”

  Regan leaned forward to deepen the kiss, tracing the outline of Mel’s mouth before dipping inside. Their kiss was slow and unhurried, a gentle explorat
ion that felt so much like the first time it set Regan’s heart racing. She tangled one hand in Mel’s dark hair and slid the other to the back of her neck, caressing gently. When she finally broke away for a lungful of air, she looked around at their surroundings with a dreamy smile. Empty playing fields and a paved blacktop with basketball hoops rounded out the school’s lot. “So this is where little Mel went to elementary school?”

  “Indeed it is.” Mel turned her head and pointed to a spot next to the squat brown building beside them. “In fact, I believe it was right there that I gave Jimmy Duncan a bloody nose.”

  “And what did poor Jimmy do to deserve that?”

  “I let him kiss me, and then I punched him when he tried to feel me up.”

  “Did you even have anything to feel up?” Regan asked, smirking at Mel’s chest.

  “Well, that was about fifth grade, so I had enough to be enticing, I guess.”

  “I can’t say I blame him,” Regan said. “I guess I’m just lucky I didn’t end up with a bloody nose the first time I tried to get to second base.”

  “Baby, I was dusting off home plate for you the moment I saw you across the room.”

  Regan’s laughter mingled with Mel’s, filling the quiet night with the sound of their shared joy. “Mom would pack the biggest picnic lunches for our days at the park,” Mel said with a wistful sigh. “I remember her applesauce the most. God, that was a treat.” She indicated the grassy field that separated them from the baseball diamond. “That’s where she brought us to tell us she was sick. I got so mad at her at first. I just didn’t understand why she’d want to leave us.”

  “That must have been so hard for her,” Regan murmured. “For everyone.”

  “I came here after she died, too. When I needed to cry.” Mel shrugged one shoulder. “When I still cried, I mean.” At Regan’s questioning look, she said, “My father didn’t believe in crying. Some of my worst beatings were for crying.”

  Tears fell from Regan’s eyes then, an unstoppable release of the anguish she felt at what Mel had endured. Mel cried too, and they held one another until the weeping abated. It was Mel who first drew back with an embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry. I think the day just caught up with me.”

  “I think more than a few years just caught up with you,” Regan acknowledged with a half-smile. “I’m in awe of your strength, baby. The more I learn about you, the more amazing you are to me.”

  “It’s mutual,” Mel said. “God, I feel so free with you. No matter how fucked-up I feel inside, you just…get me. I feel like I can tell you everything.”

  “That’s because you can,” Regan traced over Mel’s lower lip with her thumb. “And after tonight, I’d say you’re wholly and completely free.”

  Mel tipped her head back to gaze up at the night sky and Regan followed suit, searching for the Big Dipper while she waited for Mel to respond.

  “It’s incredible,” Mel finally murmured. “The one thing I do know about my future, Regan, is that I want you in it. I mean, if you still want to hang around with an emotional wreck.”

  “Of course I do.”

  Mel chuckled, relaxing into a smile. “I don’t know why you’ve put up with me this far. Or how.” She reached out and cupped Regan’s chin in her hand. “I just know that I’m very, very glad you have.”

  No thought preceded Regan’s next words. “I ‘put up’ with you, Mel, because I love you.”

  Mel was silent for a long time. There was almost no perceptible reaction at first, merely a slight widening of her eyes.

  I really said that, didn’t I? Regan kept her eyes on Mel’s face, straining to read her reaction. I meant it, though. It can’t have been wrong to say it when I mean it so much.

  Mel couldn’t quite meet her eyes, staring past Regan and then down to the ground in embarrassed silence.

  God, you’ve overwhelmed her. Regan bit back a smile, warm sympathy flooding her body at Mel’s flustered response. This really isn’t the time to tell her how cute she looks.

  Mel looked up. “Regan, I—”

  “Don’t,” Regan whispered. “Don’t say anything right now.”

  “But—”

  “This has been a hell of a day for you and I think I just ambushed you a little. I didn’t tell you because I wanted a response. I told you because I want you to know. I love you. With all my heart.” She punctuated her words with a passionate kiss.

  The kiss Mel gave her in return told Regan everything she needed to know. What she can’t say with words, God…

  Mel’s tongue stroked Regan’s, then retreated to allow Regan to explore. I want you, Regan. Mel wrapped her in a tight embrace and pulled her, swing and all, close against her. I need you, Regan. Strong hands moved over Regan’s body, caressing her back, chest, and abdomen. I love you, Regan.

  They ended up in a tight hug that lasted long after Mel’s kisses ceased. Mel pulled back to look at Regan and they shared a warm smile.

  “Thank you for telling me,” Mel whispered.

  “Thank you,” Regan said. For showing me.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mel woke up in Amarillo, Texas with a smile on her face. And why not? Her lips twitched with sleepy bliss. She loves me.

  She could feel the heat emanating from Regan’s body before she opened her eyes. Auburn hair lay across her shoulder and tickled her nose and cheek, turning her smile into a full-fledged grin. Mel beamed at the woman sleeping next to her, and then reached over to trace her thumb along one perfect eyebrow. Driving all the way to Texas overnight hadn’t even been a challenge, as wired as the whole day left her. Even when Regan surrendered to sleep for the last hour of the jaunt, Mel was content to drive in peaceful silence, stealing occasional glances at her dozing lover.

  That she was free, and that she still had Regan beside her, left her fundamentally changed. It felt like some part of her she’d thought long dead was being slowly restored. Mel released a contented sigh and gazed over at Regan’s face, peaceful and relaxed as she slept.

  I feel like drawing.

  She blinked in surprise at the sudden flood of inspiration. After only a moment’s hesitation, she climbed out of bed, eliciting a sleepy grumble from Regan. She walked over to the large duffel bag she’d dumped by the door the night before and dug through it until she located her long-abandoned drawing pad and the small case containing her pencils. She ran her hands reverently over the polished wood case, unused for years, then tiptoed over to the chair next to Regan’s side of the bed. Grinning, she sat cross-legged and gazed at Regan’s sleeping form. Pale skin, smattered with freckles, auburn curls fanned out across a pristine white pillow—she had a perfect view.

  Eyes glued to her lover, she opened her drawing pad and took out a pencil. As she waited for that inspiration to start moving her hand, she tried to burn the memory of Regan like this into her brain. But she didn’t want to draw her sleeping. She closed her eyes and brought her pencil just centimeters above her drawing surface. She wanted to capture Regan unguarded like this, but smiling. It came to her in an instant, and she opened her eyes to begin sketching with bold and confident lines.

  From the loving strokes emerged a gradual outline of Regan’s face, which Mel filled in from memory. Slowly, her eyes took shape, a fine nose, and full lips that stretched into a tender smile. On occasion Mel would glance up and gaze at Regan; not because she needed a reminder, but because it made her feel good.

  After a while, she became lost in her work and even her infrequent glances at Regan ceased. She stared at the drawing with a critical eye, reaching down now and again to add some shading or detail. When she finally finished, she grinned and lifted her eyes to take in her subject.

  Sleepy green eyes peered back at her.

  “How long have you been awake?” Mel asked.

  “I dunno.” Regan reached her hands above her head and stretched like a lazy cat. “I was afraid to move around too much. I didn’t want you to stop.”

  “I was pretty deep into t
hat place where you probably wouldn’t have been able to distract me even if you’d tried.” Massaging the back of her neck, she shot Regan a smile. “Good morning.”

  “Yes, it is.” After a moment of shared silence, Regan asked, “Are you going to let me see what you were working on?”

  Mel knew that Regan had seen her at her worst, and wouldn’t make her feel funny about this. But that didn’t make it any less nerve-wracking. Bashfully, she said, “I haven’t drawn in a while, but I woke up this morning and looked at you sleeping and I guess I felt inspired.”

  “You didn’t draw me, did you?” Regan ran a self-conscious hand over her face, and groaned. “I can’t imagine I make a very compelling subject, especially dead to the world.”

  “You looked like an angel.” Blushing at her own words, Mel turned playful. “Don’t worry, I didn’t include the drool spot in the picture.”

  Regan’s eyes widened with alarm and she swiped the back of her hand over her face. When her fingers came away dry, she shot Mel a dirty look. “Jerk,” she muttered with an adoring gaze, then stretched again, causing her blanket to slip down and expose her breasts to Mel’s hungry eyes.

  “I find your drooling endearing,” Mel teased, then pointedly dropped her eyes to enjoy the sight of erect nipples against pale flesh. “And those work for me, too.”

  Regan met Mel’s gaze, one corner of her mouth lifting in a patient smile. “Please show me what you were working on.”

  Mel steeled her nerve, and handed the drawing to Regan.

  A pale hand immediately flew up to cover her lover’s open mouth, muffling a gasp. “Mel.” She shook her head, speechless.

  Mel joined Regan in her close study of the drawing. It was Regan as she’d looked at the campground outside St. Louis, moonlight playing upon her skin, wearing a contented half-smile like she held some incredible secret. She glanced up at her lover, looking for her reaction.