by Gun Brooke
As Sheridan did so, Lark exhaled, glad Sheridan didn’t have to go back to San Antonio just yet.
“I can’t believe it.” Erica stared at Sheridan, her mouth half open.
“What?” Sheridan frowned.
“You—you remembered all their names. Just like that.”
Lark had to cough to disguise the laughter that threatened to explode. Sheridan gave her a penetrating glance before she turned back to Erica. “I know. Weird, huh?”
“Maybe not.” Erica shook hands with Lark’s parents, then stopped at Fiona’s electric wheelchair. “Nice to meet you, Fiona. What a lovely name.”
Fiona looked up at Erica, and her smile faded for a moment, only to reignite in full force within seconds. “A little too old-fashioned for me,” Fiona said with a faint blush. “But what can you do?”
“It suits you so well. ”
“Oh.” Fiona’s smile widened and she laughed, the small, breathless laughter that told Lark that she was entranced and feeling shy at the same time.
“We have drinks ready on the patio.” Sheridan motioned for everyone to move out there. “Mr. Johnson will fire up the grill soon, and Mrs. Johnson’s the best cook you could imagine.”
Once they were outside, Michael’s face lit up. “Check out the pool over there, Sean. Grandma, can we change? Please?”
“Sure, why not. You won’t let me off the hook until I say yes,” Doris grumbled good-naturedly. “Let’s go inside, guys.” She disappeared back into the house with the two boys, guided by Mrs. Johnson.
“You have a fantastic place here.” Fiona sighed and parked her wheelchair in the shade on the patio. “I could imagine living like this one day.”
“Me too,” Lark said, without thinking how her remark might sound. “I mean, I love the view and the solitude here. The grounds are so big that the nearest neighbor’s more than a mile away.”
“Quite a difference from where we grew up in Houston,” Fiona said. “We had the cutest little house, but it was almost a townhouse, built so close to the neighbors’ that they nearly leaned against each other.”
“Well, you should know.” Lark grinned. “You got stuck between our house and the neighbor’s when you were four. I had to crawl in and coax you out.”
“I was a chubby baby. You were a skinny, energetic little thing.” Fiona stuck her tongue out and laughed.
Lark noticed that Erica, who had taken the seat closest to Fiona, followed her sister’s every move.
“I was skinny because I chased you and the others around, trying to keep you in line.” Lark grinned. “You were a handful, sis.”
“I know.”
“Your mom’s always said that you were the most responsible, serious little girl in Texas,” Arthur said. “A real mini-mom to all your sisters.”
Lark shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious. “Don’t make me sound like a total bore.”
“Oh, nothing could be further from the truth. You’re anything but,” Sheridan said.
Lark hadn’t realized that Sheridan had parked her wheelchair a little behind her.
“You’re no bore. Trust me,” Sheridan said as she wheeled forward and touched Lark’s shoulder gently.
“I never meant that!” Arthur looked dismayed.
“I know, Dad,” Lark reassured him.
“We’ve been grateful so many times that Lark’s so calm and levelheaded,” Fiona said. “I wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t. I…I…” She paled. “Oh, damn it.”
Fiona’s only mobile hand began to tremble. She clung to her armrest, and Lark knew she was counting backwards from a hundred, like she’d learned to do when flashbacks hit out of nowhere like this. Lark didn’t want to add to the panic by rushing over to her, and Arthur didn’t move either. Praying that Fiona would make herself snap out of it, Lark looked over her shoulder for their mother, but saw no sign of Doris yet.
“I can’t…I can’t seem to…” Fiona’s eyes now filled with tears and her back arched in the chair.
“Hey. It’s okay, Fiona. Just relax.” Erica took Fiona’s shaking hand in her left and placed the other on her knee. “Look at me. You’re okay.”
Lark was about to tell Erica that Fiona didn’t like anyone to interfere, but her sister raised Erica’s hand to her cheek and wiped at her tears with it. The movement was beautiful and endearing, and Erica kissed Fiona’s temple.
“There you go. You’re all right now. Just breathe and it’ll go away.” Erica cupped Fiona’s neck under her long hair. “I used to get panic attacks when I was a teenager. You’ll be fine. Trust me.”
“I’ll be damned,” Sheridan breathed behind Lark. “Who would’ve guessed? Look at Fiona. Whatever Erica’s doing, it seems to be helping.”
“Never seen an attack avoided so quickly.” Lark glanced at Sheridan. “You’re right. Who would’ve guessed?”
The sound of the two boys running out of the house and crossing the patio to reach the pool area, followed by their slightly ruffled grandmother, broke the magical mood.
“Arthur, will you volunteer to watch them while they swim?” Doris asked and plopped down in a deck chair. “Just helping them change took most of my strength.”
“Sure. I always volunteer, don’t I?” Arthur chuckled and walked toward the pool.
Doris reached for a glass of orange juice, then looked searchingly at Fiona as she sipped it. “You all right, darling?” she asked as she placed the glass on the armrest.
“Yes. I’m fine,” Fiona replied. That Fiona was still clutching Erica’s hand didn’t escape Doris’s attention.
“So I see,” Doris said slowly, but not unkindly. “Excellent.”
A wonderful scent of grilling meat and vegetables spread over the patio. Lark relaxed back in the deck chair and watched her family, all the time conscious of Sheridan’s presence next to her.
Sheridan ran her fingers up and down Lark’s arm, twice, as if she sensed Lark’s thoughts. “I like your family. A lot.”
“I’m glad. So do I.”
“Fiona’s smiling again.”
“I see that. I got nervous.”
Sheridan squeezed Lark’s hand out of sight of the others. “I know. But she’s doing great now. Look at her. She has Erica eating out of her hand.”
Lark giggled quietly at the last comment. It was true. Erica looked transfixed.
“Shows how much I notice about my employees,” Sheridan huffed.
“What do you mean?”
“Surely you see why Erica’s so interested. She’s smitten.”
Lark scrutinized the two women across the table. “You’re right!” she whispered. “But Fiona, she’s not—”
Lark stopped talking when she looked over at her sister, who now boasted pink, glowing cheeks and sparkling blue eyes. Her dark hair flowed around her shoulders in a soft cloud, and she gestured emphatically as she spoke with Erica. “Actually, I don’t know if she could find a woman attractive. She’s never had either a boyfriend or a girlfriend, as far as I know.”
“Then let’s just see what happens. I may not have picked up on Erica’s vibes,” Sheridan whispered, “but I know she’s a good person. Very patient.”
“She would have to be, to work for you.” Lark’s grin turned into a giggle at the sight of Sheridan’s surprise. “I speak from experience, you see.” Lark wiggled her eyebrows. “I know what I’m talking about, and speaking of that, Erica and I would probably have a lot to talk about.”
Sheridan leaned closer, a devilish gleam in her eyes. “There’s just one thing you can’t compare. I’ve never kissed Erica.”
Lark couldn’t help but blush, and as she did, she looked up and noticed Fiona watching her with something between helplessness and exhilaration in her eyes. Oh, sis, I know so well how that feels. I do.
*
Sheri_star: Hey, long time no see.
Grey_bird: Been working, actually.
Sheri_star: Good for you. Happy with your new job?
Grey_bird: Yes
, this new boss is much better.
Sheri_star: Guy or gal?
Grey_bird: Gal. Classy and very nice, once you get to know her. How about you?
Sheri_star: I’m in a bit of a bind.
Grey_bird: Oh?
Sheri_star: You remember the woman I fired. My PT?
Grey_bird: Sure.
Sheri_star: Well, believe it or not, we made out.
Grey_bird: What? You did? Oh, my.
Sheri_star:Exactly. It only happened once, really. But there’s been lots of discreet touching, you know. In passing. And, God, the way she looks at me.
Grey_bird: How does she look at you?
Sheri_star: Like she really cares.
Grey_bird: You mean, on a personal level?
Sheri_star: I think so. I hope so.
Grey_bird: Tricky situation. What do you want from this?
Sheri_star: I want to say that I don’t know. But that’s not true.
Grey_bird: Then tell me the truth.
Sheri_star: I want her. In the worst way. In my arms. In my bed.
Grey_bird: To keep or to get her out of your system?
Sheri_star: I’m not a predator, you know.
Grey_bird: Didn’t say you were. From her POV, I’d imagine this is harder, though.
Sheri_star: How so?
Grey_bird: There are pretty strict ethical rules about what goes on between caregiver and patient. If anybody found out, it would hurt her professionally.
Sheri_star: Damn, I’m such an ass. I never even thought of that!
Grey_bird: That’s why I asked. What’s your intention?
Sheri_star: She should be the one who hears that from me first, don’t you agree?
Grey_bird: Absolutely. Only meant to raise the question like a good chat-buddy.
Sheri_star: You really are. Thanks for listening to me.
Grey_bird:No problem. I’m all for happy endings.
Sheri_star: And your new lady boss, is she hot?
Grey_bird: *grin* Sizzling!
Sheri_star: Plan to make any moves?
Grey_bird: I don’t think so. I might lose my job.
Sheri_star: Anybody would be lucky to have a girl like you.
Grey_bird: How can you be so sure of that?
Sheri_star: Because you remind me of her.
Sheri_star: Bird? You there?
Sheri_star: Bird?
Grey_bird: Yeah. I’m here. Something came up. Can we chat more another evening?
Sheri_star: Sure. Time to go to sleep anyway.
Grey_bird: Sleep well.
Sheri_star: You too.
Lark logged off, staring at the screen. “Because you remind me of her,” she read out loud, her chest constricting. It would only be a matter of time before she slipped up, or Sheridan figured out what was going on. Lark covered her face with both hands and groaned. I have to tell her. But how?
Chapter Twenty
Lark stretched and tried to work out the kink in her neck. She sat on the couch next to Sheridan, browsing through old family albums where Sheridan had pointed out pictures of a much younger Mrs. D and the Johnsons. Lark had felt the closeness and seen the now-familiar affection in Sheridan’s eyes, which made her feel even worse for continuing her charade.
“Here are my mother and me, only weeks before she passed away.” Sheridan pointed at a photo showing an emaciated, black-haired woman sitting on one of the deck chairs. A very young Sheridan knelt next to her with an arm around her shoulder.
“You resemble her a lot.” Lark couldn’t stop looking. She noticed something of the “angry young woman” about Sheridan, contradicted by the ocean of tenderness directed toward her mother.
“Her name was Amanda. Amanda Louise.” Sheridan’s voice was low, warm, and tinged with remorse. “I hope I helped make her last days somewhat decent. I ditched so many classes to be with her. I sat by her side at the hospital, slept in a chair by the bed, or simply held her. Toward the end, I couldn’t do anything but hold her hand, she was in so much pain, but it was enough for her, she said. My father only came the last night of her life because I gave him an ultimatum.”
“What did you say to him?” Lark leaned her head against Sheridan’s shoulder and stroked her arm.
“I simply told him that if he didn’t come to show his wife his love and affection for her on the last day of her life, he’d lose me too. He showed up and stood by the window most of the night, staring at her or the sky, but he was there, and I think she knew it.”
“Poor man.”
“What do you mean?” Sheridan stiffened.
“To be so afraid, so locked into his own fear. Your strength was obvious, your compassion too. His was trapped inside, and if you hadn’t insisted, he’d have stayed in his ivory tower, unable to even try to reach out.” Lark smiled sorrowfully. “Do I sound like some cheesy greeting card? I don’t mean to.”
Sheridan blinked several times. “No, no. You don’t. You have a way with words, Lark. You make sense of things and seem to understand even the most unfathomable reactions.”
“Perhaps because I went through so many contradictory feelings after Fiona’s injury.”
“How do you mean, contradictory?”
“I was angry, scared, and sometimes depressed, not to mention frustrated. Overwhelmed, also, by the protectiveness that welled up in me at the oddest times, regarding all of my sisters. I joined a karate dojo and managed to earn a blue belt. I knew my self-defense and karate skills wouldn’t stop a bullet, but they made me feel less vulnerable and more in control.”
“Ever had to use them?”
Lark shrugged. “One reason I didn’t want to work in a private home any more was that I longed to have real workmates. You know. A lunchroom to eat in and the chance to focus on more than one patient, spread my care around a bit so it wouldn’t all be so personal. And more than once, male members of the family I worked with thought I should include extracurricular duties on my schedule.”
Sheridan gasped and stared at Lark. “You’re kidding!”
“No.”
“And…oh…” Sheridan suddenly looked flustered. “I haven’t been much better, have I?” She pulled back while lowering her darkening eyes.
“Sheridan. No. Don’t think that. Please!” Appalled at how the conversation had derailed, she pulled Sheridan’s stiff body to her. “You’re nothing like those guys. Not even by a long shot. Anything that happened between us, especially here by the lake, was completely mutual. I…I really care about you.” It wasn’t a declaration of love, but it was as close as Lark had ever come. She explored Sheridan’s features for any signs that she understood.
“Mutual.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes. Mutual.” Lark pushed her jumbled thoughts away. All that mattered right now was to reassure Sheridan. She leaned forward, slowly, and brushed her lips against Sheridan’s, feather light. “Mmm, mutual,” Lark murmured against Sheridan’s mouth. Parting Sheridan’s lips, she slid her tongue just inside and explored the softness there.
Sheridan whimpered, a thoroughly sexy sound, stemming from the same helpless desire that permeated Lark. Not knowing if this was the last time she’d have the pleasure of feeling Sheridan pressed against her, Lark angled her head and deepened the kiss. Sheridan returned the feverish caresses and sucked Lark’s tongue deeper into her mouth. Lark knew she’d never wanted another woman like she wanted Sheridan right then. They were both trembling, and Lark felt small drops of sweat run down her throat and between her breasts.
“I need to…touch you,” Sheridan moaned. “You feel so amazing, so soft and sexy. I never meant for this to be wrong—”
“It isn’t!” Lark said and moved up on Sheridan’s lap, careful to not put all her weight on her legs. “It’s fine. Better than fine.”
“Better?”
Lark could sense Sheridan smiling against her skin. “Yes. Much better.”
Sheridan bit gently on Lark’s neck, painting wet, scorching traces along her skin
with her tongue. “I’m glad. Very glad.”
“How glad, would you say?” Lark smiled and tipped her head back. “Glad enough to take this up a notch?” She looked at Sheridan between her eyelashes. If she locks those amazing eyes on me, I’ll self-combust.
“I’ll take it anywhere you want.” Sheridan played with a button on Lark’s denim shirt. “I can’t remember ever wanting anything this much. I have to look at you. I have to.”
Lark raised her hands and unfastened the three top buttons. “Like this?” She glanced down and saw that Sheridan had an unobstructed view of the top curve of her breasts. She wore only a small sports bra, which pushed her breasts up and together.
“God, yes. But it won’t be enough for long.” Sheridan was breathing harder now. She ran her hand along the exposed skin, then slipped two fingers under the sports bra and barely grazed a nipple.
Lark couldn’t look away from the expression of desire on Sheridan’s face. Her cheeks were flushed and her white teeth glistened between her half-open lips.
“Then I may just have to do this,” Lark breathed and undid one more button. “I don’t want to disappoint you. If you want to see more, feel more…here.” Lark tugged the shirt off her own shoulder and saw an immediate response in Sheridan’s eyes.
“You’re like gold. Your hair, your eyes, your skin.” Sheridan ran her tongue along Lark’s shoulders. “You’re beautiful.”
“So are you.” Lark thought Sheridan looked like a goddess fashioned of silver and ebony. Her skin glittered as perspiration made it shiny. She tugged gently on the zipper of Sheridan’s black hooded jacket, and Sheridan ran her fingers through Lark’s hair as she tugged the zipper down, revealing a black top. Hard nipples poked the satin enticingly as Sheridan moved her arms.
