Christi brought over the drink, and he took a sip. “Perfect.”
Angie nursed her beer, and in the mirror above the bar, watched the couples behind them dance.
“See anyone you like?” Sage asked.
“Some of us aren’t sluts, you know.”
“Ouch. That hurt.” Then he laughed. “Not really.”
“Dating anyone new?”
“As a matter of fact, I had a fabulous time with a fine young gentleman last night.”
“Oh yeah? What was his name?”
Sage scrunched up his face. “‘Baby,’ ‘honey,’ ‘sugar.’ Something like that.”
“Of course it was.”
“I just know he was superb.” He perked up and pointed at the mirror. “Speaking of the big hunk, there he is now.” Sage jumped off the stool and grabbed his drink. “Hate to drink and run on you, but duty calls.”
“Go on. Have some fun.” As he walked away, Angie yelled, “But be safe, okay?”
Sage waved. “Always, sweetie, always.”
Angie sat at the bar chatting with Christi. A hand brushed across her back. Then lips pressed close to her ear.
“Hey, darlin’. Fancy seeing you tonight.”
Pam slipped in beside her. She wore a tight blue tank top and a pair of hip-hugging, faded blue jeans.
“Hey.” Angie thought Pam might have already had a few drinks. “Where’s Leona?”
Pam frowned. “You had to bring that up. We decided to chill out for a while.”
Angie didn’t like Pam’s expression. She’d seen it before, and every time, it meant trouble.
“Can I get you anything, Pam?” Christi asked.
“You know, I hoped I could talk Angie into renewing our little contest.”
Pam’s meaning didn’t register at first; then it hit her. “Oh, no no no. I’m out of practice and wouldn’t last long against you.”
“Come on, sport. I know you can hold your own.” Pam motioned to Christi. “How about a bottle of Jack Daniels, two shot glasses, and what beer for you tonight, Angie? You normally drink Coronas, but it needs to be something on tap.”
“I said no—”
Pam hopped up on the stool next to Angie. “Give me your hand and help me stand up on this thing so I don’t fall.”
Angie held onto Pam’s waist while she teetered on the stool.
“Everybody!” Pam shouted. “It’s time we renew the Ellison-Cantinnini Chaser Contest, don’t you think?”
Everyone roared their approval and pushed their way toward the bar.
“What the hell’s gotten into you?” Angie tilted her head to peer up at her ex.
“You,” Pam pointed at Angie, “need to loosen up. And who knows where this might lead?”
Angie remembered where it had led most other times they’d had this contest—straight home to bed and a drunken tussle under the sheets. She didn’t want that.
“Help me down.”
Angie put her hands under Pam’s arms and helped her off the stool.
“What’ll it be? Pick your poison.” Pam leaned in close to Angie’s lips. “You don’t want to disappoint all of these lovely ladies now, do you?”
Angie felt a tingling in her groin. Damn. “Buds. Make it Budweiser.”
Pam shot her fist up in the air. “Yesss! Ladies, we have a contest.”
Everyone hooted and clapped. Christi put two shot glasses in front of them and two Budweisers from the tap.
“You remember the rules?” Pam asked. “It’s been a couple of years, but—”
“I remember the damn rules,” Angie said under her breath.
“For those of you who aren’t aware of the rules, it’s simple,” Pam shouted. “Each of us starts by chugging a beer and of course chasing it with a shot of Jack. We keep going until one of us can go no more, but here’s the added twist.” Pam threw her arm around Angie as she spoke. “After every shot of Jack, we each have to repeat the following: ‘She sells seashells by the seashore.’”
The crowd broke out in laughter.
Pam held up her hand to silence everyone. “I know, I know. That’s hard enough sober, but I had to come up with something new because Angie Cantinnini here never gets beat in this game by the drinking alone.” Pam turned to Angie. “Are you ready?”
In answer, Angie wrapped her fingers around the cold glass of Budweiser.
“Go!”
They both downed the beer and swooped up the shots of Jack Daniels. The whiskey burned the back of Angie’s throat, but she finished it in one gulp.
“Woo-hoo!” Angie heard Sage’s unmistakable voice in the rear. He held his drink up in the air.
“And now the added challenge.” Pam pointed at Angie, and she recited the tongue twister with ease. Pam followed with no problem. “Okay, another, barkeep.”
Christi poured the drinks. They went through the same regimen, and both recited the words again without stumbling over them.
“Hey, wait, ladies.” Sage pushed himself to the front of the spectators. “You haven’t said what the prize is for the winner.”
“Why don’t we let that be a surprise?” Pam leered at Angie.
Oh Lord, what does she have in mind?
“More drinks, Christi,” Pam shouted.
It continued. Beer. Chaser. Beer. Chaser. Angie was feeling the effects of the alcohol. They were up to their sixth beer and shot of Jack Daniels.
“I’ll start it this time.” Pam carefully enunciated each word of the tongue twister. “And now you.” She pointed at Angie.
Angie was almost through it when Pam winked at her and ran her tongue across her upper lip—which is how “seashore” became “shesore.”
“Yes!” Pam shouted.
Angie glared at Pam. She could have protested. But what would she say? My ex-girlfriend picked the opportune moment to play a dirty trick and do something that drove me wild when we were together?
The whole bar cheered. Someone started the chant, “Prize! Prize! Prize!” Soon, everyone joined in.
Angie braced herself. Pam moved closer. She spun the stool around and pushed Angie’s knees apart.
“You’re not scared of little old me, are you?” Pam asked. She moved so she snuggled in between Angie’s legs. Angie felt the familiar pulsing desire in her groin where Pam pressed into her body. Pam’s eyes flicked down to her lips. She ran her fingers to the back of Angie’s neck, captured Angie’s mouth, and thrust her tongue inside.
Initially, Angie went along with the kiss, appeasing the women who’d gathered around, whistling and clapping in unison. But then it all switched over to another place and time. She wasn’t kissing Pam Ellison, her ex of two years. It was Meryl. They were in Angie’s room at Lehigh, exploring and discovering their bodies together.
Angie pulled Pam closer. She felt Pam’s sharp intake of breath, but ignored it. She ran her hands along Pam’s sides and stopped below her breasts. Pam moaned, which snapped Angie back to reality. That was Pam’s sound of surrender—she remembered it well.
Angie withdrew from the kiss. Pam stood in front of her, flushed, her chest rising up and down. She at first smiled at Angie, but the smile slowly faded. “It wasn’t me, was it?”
Pandemonium erupted around them. Women slapped Angie on the back and jostled her. Pam appeared dazed while she accepted the congratulations of the women who pushed against them.
“I always knew you were a stud!” Sage shouted. He again raised his mimosa in the air.
Angie felt like she was in a dream, because the tall blonde standing behind him sure looked like a dead ringer for Meryl McClain.
“No, it can’t be.” Her vision cleared enough to focus on the blonde’s striking blue-green eyes. “Oh my God.”
Meryl stared at her for an instant longer and pushed her way past the women toward the door. Angie held onto the bar as she unsteadily rose to her feet.
Pam took hold of her arm. “Where you going?”
Angie ignored her. She cut a swath through the crowd. She cra
ned her neck, trying to find Meryl. Angie shot through the door onto bustling Duval. If there was ever a time she hated the popularity of the resort town, it was now. Blondes were everywhere on the street. But then one of them turned around.
* * *
Meryl quickened her step. That couldn’t have been Angie. Not like this. Please, God, not like this.
“Meryl, wait!”
Yes. That’s her voice. Meryl glanced over her shoulder and saw Angie hurrying toward her. A man bumped into Angie, and she stumbled and fell to the pavement.
“Shit!”
Meryl turned and started back just as the man helped Angie to her feet.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m all right.” Angie brushed off her jeans. She raised her head as Meryl approached.
The man hovered nearby, but he might as well have been invisible.
“It’s okay,” Meryl told him, never looking away from Angie. “I can take care of this.”
The man touched Angie’s arm. “Again, I apologize.” He continued down the street.
Meryl felt the full force of Angie’s presence. The hair on her arms stood on end.
“Angie.” Meryl drew in a breath. She’d pictured this moment so many times in her mind, yet nothing prepared her for the electric current of emotion surging through her body.
“Meryl.” Angie swayed a little and seemed to have trouble focusing. “It’s really you.”
Meryl held out her hand to keep Angie from stumbling forward.
Angie took hold of her hand. “Still so soft,” she whispered.
Meryl pulled free from Angie’s grasp. “Can I take you home? I didn’t drive here, but I can hail us a cab. Do you live far?”
“Just a few blocks away.” Angie brought her fingertips to Meryl’s cheek. “My God, Meryl, I can’t believe you’re here.”
Meryl swallowed down the lump in her throat. She leaned into Angie’s palm, but pulled away. This was too much.
Angie dropped her hand. In a rush of words, she said, “She’s not my girlfriend.”
“You don’t need to explain.”
“I lost a contest. I never lose. But she… she cheated.” Angie closed her eyes as if regretting her words.
“Angie, it’s—”
“It wasn’t her I was kissing. I imagined kissing you. I’ve never forgotten you.”
Although Angie slurred the words, Meryl believed her. Standing in the middle of this street, in a town over a thousand miles away from her home, she believed her.
“Let’s not have this conversation here. Let’s get you home.” Meryl glanced around them at the onlookers.
“We can walk. I might need a little help, but like I said, it’s only a few blocks.”
“I’ll let you lead the way.”
Meryl hooked her arm in the crook of Angie’s elbow as they meandered down the street.
* * *
With each step they took, a refrain repeated itself in Angie’s mind: “I’m walking with Meryl McClain.”
They reached the gate to the white picket fence.
“This is so quaint,” Meryl said.
Angie pulled the keys out of her jeans pockets, but dropped them. She bent over to pick them up.
“Here, let me.” Meryl reached for the keys, and their fingers brushed.
Angie jumped from the contact. Meryl opened the door. Angie fumbled for the light switch.
“This is beautiful,” Meryl said as they stepped inside. “Why don’t we get you seated over there?”
Meryl guided Angie to the leather couch. She held onto her until Angie eased into the cushions.
“Are you all right?” Meryl asked.
Angie closed her eyes, but each time she opened them, Meryl still stood there. Her beauty hadn’t diminished over the years. Dressed casually, she wore a white cotton blouse tucked into a pair of black jeans. The first two buttons of her blouse were undone, and pale, freckle-adorned skin peeked out. Slight lines trailed away from Meryl’s eyes, the only evidence of the advance of years. Time had been kind to her. Very kind.
She wished she looked as good to Meryl. Angie’s bangs were still too long. She had on a faded black T-shirt with “Key West” on the chest pocket and a pair of well-worn blue jeans. The T-shirt, shrunken from its many trips through the dryer, was snug across Angie’s breasts. Her contest in the bar and her tumble in the street had left her looking anything but her best.
Meryl glanced around the living room and kitchen. “Can I fix you some coffee or something?”
“No. Please. Come sit beside me.”
Meryl complied.
“How’ve you been?” Angie hated the words the moment they left her mouth. How trite.
“I’ve been well. And you?” Meryl let out short laugh. “I can’t believe we’re just chatting like this.”
“I’ve missed you,” Angie whispered.
“I’ve dreamed of this for so long, but it’s like this isn’t real.”
They stared at each other, frozen in the moment. Angie caressed Meryl’s cheek with her thumb. She watched Meryl’s pulse in her throat, beating rapidly as if she were anticipating a kiss.
Angie scooted closer until her mouth was a breath away from Meryl’s. Just before they touched lips, Meryl pulled away. Sadness etched Meryl’s face. Angie wondered if her own expression mirrored the same sorrow. She thought she could hear Meryl’s unspoken question: What about the years we’ve lost? God, what if, what if… The recriminations hung in the air between them as if Meryl had shouted the words aloud.
Meryl lowered her head. Angie raised Meryl’s chin with her fingertips. Meryl blinked away her tears.
“I… I should go.” Meryl rushed to her feet. “You’ll be okay, I think.” She hastened for the door.
Angie stood to follow her.
“Wait, Meryl.” Angie gently grabbed her arm. “I haven’t seen you in eleven years. You can’t leave like this.”
“I’m sorry. This is such a shock for me tonight. Maybe we can meet tomorrow when my head’s a little clearer and when you’re, well…”
“Sober.” Angie thought of where they could meet. “I own the bar we were at. We could meet there tomorrow.”
“You own the bar? That seems unlike you.” Meryl shook her head. “Listen to me. Who am I to say what you’re like after all these years?”
Meryl’s words waited for the braver one of the women to snatch them up and delve into the past. But neither took the chance.
“Yeah, I’ve owned it for the past six years,” Angie said. “We could meet there in the afternoon if you like.”
“All right.” They stood face-to-face for a few awkward seconds. “Well, I’ll walk back to the hotel. It’s not that far, and I feel safe walking alone here. ” Meryl moved toward the door.
Angie stopped herself from taking a step closer to Meryl. She motioned to the couch. “Are you sure you can’t stay and talk some more?”
Meryl ran her fingers across her lips. The gesture reminded Angie of the kiss they hadn’t shared. “Not tonight. This is all so… so…”
“Unbelievable.” Angie supplied the word for her.
“Yes,” Meryl said. “What time tomorrow?”
“How about three? It opens at four, but I can let you in.”
“I’ll see you then.”
Meryl stepped outside.
“Meryl?”
“Yes?”
“You look wonderful. You haven’t changed at all.”
“Thank you, Angie. That’s very kind. I can say the same about you.”
Angie watched Meryl make her way down the street toward Duval. She shut the door and leaned against it, closing her eyes. Then she popped them open. “Oh, shit. Zach England.”
* * *
The air had turned cooler. Meryl rubbed her arms as a chill ran through her.
“Don’t try to kid yourself,” she whispered. “It’s not the air making you shiver.”
She raised her face to t
he night sky, straining to find some stars above. Tears trickled down her cheeks. She wiped them away, but it was no use. She’d tried to hold it together while she was with Angie. Now, she gave in to all the pent up emotion.
Meryl suddenly felt faint. She stumbled to a nearby bench before her shaky legs gave out. She allowed herself a good cry sitting in the shadows, hoping no one would notice her.
What had just happened? Meryl thought it’d be so easy if she ever saw Angie again. They’d pick up right where they left off as if a great hand had erased the years apart.
How could she have been so foolish?
* * *
Angie snatched the portable phone from its cradle and punched in Ev’s number.
“’lo?” a groggy voice answered.
“Ev?”
“Angie? Is that you?”
“Something’s happened.”
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Was there an accident?”
The questions came so fast that Angie didn’t have a chance to cut in.
“Stay where you are, and we’ll come get you. Harold, wake up damn it!”
“Wait. I’m all right. There wasn’t an accident.”
“Then why are you calling me so late? Have you been drinking?”
Angie ignored the last question. “It’s Meryl.”
“Who?”
“Meryl McClain.”
“Nothing’s happened to her, has it?”
“She’s here, Ev.”
“Here as in…”
“Here as in she left my house a few minutes ago.”
“Hang on a sec.” She heard Ev talking to her husband. “Go back to sleep, Harold. Everything’s okay. I’ll take this to the living room.” She came back on the line. “All right. You got my attention on that one.”
“I was at the bar. For some stupid reason, I agreed to a chaser contest with Pam.”
“Yeah, that’s a real bright thing to do there.”
“Let me finish please.” Angie opened the French doors and stepped out onto her patio. “I lost the contest.”
“You never lose those.”
“Will you please let me finish?” Angie asked. “For winning, she got to kiss me. When we kissed, I felt as if I was kissing Meryl again. Then it hit me that it was Pam. I pull out of the kiss, glance around at the crowd, and Meryl’s there.”
“Holy crap.”
“I thought I was imagining things, or I’d had too much to drink. She fled from the bar. I followed her outside, tripped and fell—”
Come Back to Me Page 11
