True Confessions

by P. J. Trebelhorn

  “Hey, Jess.” Lynn’s sultry, low voice hummed in her ear, and Jessie closed her eyes, letting the sound warm her much like the alcohol had done. “How’s my favorite person in the whole world?”

  “Better now,” Jessie replied with a smile. It surprised her that she did indeed feel calmer just from hearing the sound of Lynn’s voice. “Are you in town?”

  “Yep, and I’m all settled in at Casa Patrick.” Lynn laughed. “God, you have no idea what it’s like spending three weeks with my parents. I love them, but they do get on my nerves. And then there’s Mom, always trying to orchestrate my love life. She’s hoping I’ll find a nice woman in town and settle down.”

  “Would that really be so bad?” Jessie asked, thinking it would be nice to have Lynn around all the time. She had begun looking forward to December more each year, because she loved the time they spent together. “Moving back here, I mean.”

  “No, not if I found the right woman, I guess.” Lynn’s voice sounded almost wistful, and Jessie wondered why. She chuckled softly when she heard Lynn’s mother’s muffled voice in the background. Lynn apparently took the phone from her ear and put a hand over the mouthpiece. “Just a minute, Mom.” Jessie waited patiently, amused at the way some things never changed. “Christ, I can’t even get a minute of peace in the bathroom.”

  “You can come stay with me if you want.” Jessie made the offer before her brain had the opportunity to engage, but the stillness from the other end gave her time to think about her proposal. It wasn’t a bad idea, really. She had an extra bedroom and would feel infinitely better having another adult in the house.

  “What about Wayne?” Lynn finally asked.

  “He’s working in Las Vegas for a few weeks.” Charlie had undoubtedly already given his sister that bit of information, judging by the twinkle in his eye when she’d told him the other day in the grocery store. “He’s not supposed to be back until the second or third week in January.”

  “It’s very tempting, but I’m not sure my mother would be happy about it. And, trust me, when Mama Patrick isn’t happy, nobody’s happy. Besides, for some reason she likes having me around. Can we talk about it over dinner tomorrow night?”

  “My place at six?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Jessie pushed the End Call button and wondered why her stomach was fluttering. She reacted that way a lot when she had plans with Lynn. She shook her head and started to put the phone in her purse, but frowned when she brushed the cold steel of the .38 caliber gun she kept in there. She jerked away and studied her hands, which had totally lost their golden summer tan. She tried to compose herself when Sarah took a seat across from her once again.

  “When are you going to see her?” Sarah asked.

  “She’s coming for dinner tomorrow.” Jessie took a swallow of her drink and tried to make her hands stop shaking.

  “Did you tell her what happened?”

  “No, and I’m not planning to.” Jessie stared at Sarah defiantly. “Promise me you won’t say anything either.”

  “Hon, she’ll see the scar on your cheek and notice that you favor your left arm. Why not let her know what happened?”

  “Did Karen ever tell you about the time when Lynn stood up to our father?” Jessie waited until Sarah shook her head, then continued. “We were juniors in high school, and Karen had just come out to them. He caught Lynn and me in the backyard hugging. She was holding me because I was so upset about my father kicking Karen out and my mother doing nothing to stop it. He came out there yelling at the top of his lungs about what perverts we were. Lynn let go of me, then stepped between my father and me. He called Lynn a fucking dyke, and when she didn’t deny it, he got even more pissed off. He reached for me, but she grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm until he fell to his knees.”

  “Oh, shit,” Sarah murmured with a grimace, obviously knowing what was coming next.

  “Yeah.” Jessie laughed humorlessly. “As soon as she let go, he got up and punched her in the face. God, she had a black eye for weeks. Anyway, he obviously thought he’d won, but she was on him again so quick, he didn’t know how to react. He wasn’t used to a woman fighting back—especially a sixteen-year-old girl. I was scared out of my mind, because she had him by the shirt collar and they fell backward, Lynn sitting on his chest. She told him that if he ever laid a finger on me again, she’d kill him herself. Her parents pressed charges against him when they found out what happened, and things actually did get better for me after that. He decided to take out all of his frustrations on my mother instead.”

  “And that’s why you won’t tell her about Wayne putting you in the hospital for over a week?” Sarah didn’t seem to understand where Jessie was coming from. Jessie sighed and took another drink. “I’m sorry, honey, I know that was an awful thing that happened, but I still think you should let her know.”

  “Why, Sarah? So she can go after Wayne and threaten to kill him too? Or, worse, actually do it? Hasn’t there been enough violence in my life?” Jessie had to work at keeping her voice down because of the lack of background noise to drown out their conversation. She leaned toward Sarah and spoke more quietly. “Jesus, I know Wayne. He wouldn’t be content with only a black eye.”

  “Jess, give her a little more credit than that. Even though a brash sixteen-year-old did something that reckless, a thirty-three-year-old woman wouldn’t necessarily do something equally stupid. And if you had someone else on your side through this, we’d all feel a lot better about where things are going with him.”

  “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to her.” There. She’d said it out loud. “She hates him, Sarah. And he certainly isn’t fond of her either. He hated it when she came home for three weeks every year.”

  “Yet you look forward to it,” Sarah said gently. Jessie met her eyes and waited for more, but nothing followed.

  “I miss her. I’d feel a lot better if my best friend lived close by.”

  “Are you sure that’s all she is to you?”

  “What are you getting at?” They stared at each other—Jessie waiting for some kind of explanation and Sarah obviously waiting for her meaning to dawn on Jessie. It struck her then what Sarah was saying, and her cheeks warmed. “Are you insinuating that I might feel more for her than friendship?”

  “I’m not insinuating anything.” Sarah’s smug smile hinted otherwise, and Jessie wasn’t sure if she should be angry or embarrassed. “I’m only saying you should think about it. I can see where you might be confused, having an overbearing father and given the experience Karen went through when she came out. If you had ever experienced any feelings like that, it would have been natural to suppress them.”

  “Jesus Christ.” Jessie folded her arms on the table and rested her forehead on them, shaking her head slowly. “I’ve finally stopped my mother from trying to persuade me to work harder at pleasing Wayne, and now you’re trying to drag me out of a closet I’m not in.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Sarah was grinning when Jessie raised her head again. “I’ve seen the way some of these women look at you in here, and I’ve even watched you look back at a few. You can’t tell me it’s never crossed your mind.”

  It had crossed Jessie’s mind, on more than one occasion, but she’d never shared it with anyone. Should she confide in Sarah? Well, what did she have to lose? She took a deep breath.

  “If I tell you something I’ve never told another living soul, will you promise it’ll go no further than this table?” Jessie waited, and Sarah nodded. “Not even Karen can know.”

  “Ooh, this is juicy. I can’t wait.” Sarah rubbed her hands together. When Jessie grabbed her forearm and stared at her, Sarah finally nodded again. She even crossed her heart. “I promise.”

  “During our senior year in high school, when Lynn told me she was a lesbian, I kissed her.” Jessie waited for the ribbing to start, but she saw nothing other than surprise in Sarah’s eyes. “Say something.”

  “I�
��m…” Sarah stammered as she shrugged and shook her head. Jessie had finally silenced the ever-witty Sarah, who always seemed to have a comeback for everything thrown her way. “Wow. I definitely did not see that coming. How was it?”

  “Horrible.” Jessie laughed and released her hold on Sarah’s arm. “It was awkward, and sloppy, and neither one of us ever mentioned it again.”

  “Was it your first kiss?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hers too?”

  “I don’t know. I never asked.”

  “Wow,” Sarah said again. “Your first kiss was with a girl. See, you just might be in that closet. I’m sure since then you’ve both gotten better at kissing—at least I’d hope so. Maybe you should give it another shot before you completely rule it out.”

  “I am not in the closet.” Jessie said in a dismissive tone—and volume—as she yanked on her jacket and headed for the door.

  “But if you find out that you are, I want to be the first to know,” Sarah called to her.

  Jessie stepped aside when a woman came through the doors to the bar. Before she could stop herself, she watched her saunter past, drawn in by the way her hips moved. She glanced back at a smirking Sarah, shook her head, and flipped Sarah the bird before leaving the bar.

  Chapter Four

  Jessie already had dinner made when Lynn rang the doorbell at five minutes after six the next evening. She chuckled because Lynn never made it anywhere on time. Often, she’d jokingly told Lynn she’d be late to her own funeral. Jessie took the last sip of her glass of wine and went to open the door, ignoring the swarm of butterflies attacking her stomach.

  Lynn was grinning widely, and Jessie’s breath caught. It wasn’t possible, but Lynn looked even more attractive than Jessie remembered. If Jessie was a lesbian, as Sarah had not so subtly suggested, she wouldn’t hesitate to get involved with Lynn. But she wasn’t, of course.

  “You’re certainly a sight for sore eyes,” Lynn said. She hugged Jessie tight.

  “You too.” Jessie held on a little longer than necessary. She took a deep breath of musky cologne mingled with herbal shampoo—the scents she always associated with Lynn. After she finally pulled away she took the brown bag she assumed contained a bottle of whiskey, their drink of choice whenever they got together. “You can put your coat in the closet.”

  “Where’s my favorite little girl?” Lynn asked when she joined Jessie in the kitchen.

  “My mother took Amber on a trip to see Mickey Mouse.” Jessie grabbed a couple of plates from the cupboard and set them on the counter. She winced slightly at the lingering pain in her left shoulder, but managed to hide it from Lynn since her back was to her.

  “California or Florida?”

  “Florida. They left last night, and they’ll be gone two weeks.”

  “Nice. I’d love to go to Florida.”

  “Mom wanted me to go with them.” Jessie avoided looking directly at Lynn, because she didn’t want her to see the small, one-inch scar on her cheek. She cursed herself for not waiting until after the holidays to get her hair cut, because now it was just long enough to reach her shoulders. She’d tried to style it so it’d cover the scar below her eye, but nothing she did looked natural. It had reminded her of a balding man with a comb-over. Anyway, she was being ridiculous, because she couldn’t possibly avoid looking at Lynn the entire evening.

  “Why didn’t you?” Lynn opened the cupboard and got out two shot glasses.

  “I wanted to see you.” Her simple explanation was the truth. Jessie hadn’t really thought about it at the time, but that was indeed the reason she’d declined her mother’s invitation to join them, although she’d told her mother she needed some time alone to recharge her batteries. She wasn’t sure if she should confide in her mother about the impending divorce yet. Considering that she’d stayed with Jessie’s father for years, she might expect Jessie to do the same. Jessie did her best not to cringe at the possibility.

  “That’s nice.” Lynn’s voice was soft, and Jessie took the offered shot glass, downing the contents quickly. “Another?”

  “Not now.” Jessie turned to look at her, and the amused smile on Lynn’s face faded as her eyes settled on the spot just below Jessie’s left eye. Jessie glanced away, but Lynn put down the bottle and, with two fingers under Jessie’s chin, forced her head back to get a better look.

  “What happened to you?” Lynn’s voice was a mixture of concern and the restrained anger Jessie had come to know so well when they talked about Jessie’s parents. Jessie closed her eyes when Lynn gently rubbed her thumb along the scar.

  “It’s nothing.” Jessie’s voice caught as she recalled how the scar came to be, but she pulled away from Lynn and turned her attention back to dinner. She wasn’t surprised when her attempt to dissuade Lynn from further questioning didn’t work.

  “Jessie, please talk to me.” Lynn placed a gentle hand on Jessie’s forearm and squeezed. “What happened?”

  “I walked into a door.” Jessie forced a smile, but Lynn’s expression never changed. Jessie’s eyes watered and she shook her head. “You were right about Wayne.”

  “He hit you?” Lynn’s voice was soft, but her blue eyes conveyed anger. Jessie put a hand over Lynn’s, which was still on her arm. “When did this happen?”

  Jessie closed her eyes, trying to dispel the images of that horrible night. When she opened them again, Lynn was still studying her face.

  “About eight months ago.”

  During their awkward silence, Jessie forced herself not to look away from Lynn’s darkening stare.

  “Please tell me he spent time in jail for this.” Lynn’s voice had a hard edge, causing a chill to spread through Jessie’s body. “Because if he didn’t, I’ll kill him.”

  “He got permission from his parole officer to take the job in Vegas.” Jessie pulled her arm away and took a step back. She really didn’t want to discuss Wayne this evening. She also hoped that by omitting the truth—by letting Lynn think he was on parole—Lynn would assume he’d done jail time. Actually, because it was his first offense, he’d only received probation. He had to report to the courts every couple of weeks for the next year, but other than that, he was free. That was why Jessie had finally purchased a gun, something only her attorney and Karen knew about. If Wayne intended to come back and cause problems, she’d damn well be prepared to deal with him. “I have a restraining order that keeps him away, and I filed for divorce this morning. I expect he won’t be too happy about that. You know, I really don’t want to discuss it, okay? Can we just have a nice quiet dinner and talk about you tonight?”

  A myriad of emotions stormed through Lynn’s eyes, but she finally rested her hip against the counter and forced a smile. Jessie let out a sigh and turned back to preparing dinner.

  “That’s fine, but I want to hear about it sometime, so you’re only getting a temporary reprieve.” Lynn twisted the cap off a bottle of beer and took a long drink. Jessie wasn’t surprised at the declaration, but she was dreading having to admit to Lynn the severity of what Wayne had done. “And I’ll also want to hear your reasons for not telling me about this sooner.”

  *

  During dinner—Jessie’s famous pot roast with mashed potatoes and string beans—Lynn forced herself to talk about what was going on in her life. Deadlines weren’t an exciting topic, so they turned their attention to Charlie’s marital woes. But Lynn’s anger seethed just under the surface. How the hell could anyone hit Jessie? And why hadn’t anyone bothered to tell her about it when it happened?

  “Have you thought about my offer?” Jessie asked while they washed the dishes after they’d eaten. “About staying here with me for part of the month?”

  “Yeah, about that…” Lynn played with the dishtowel she held, folding and unfolding it. “I’m not sure that would be such a good idea.”

  “Why not?” Jessie laughed, but couldn’t disguise the hurt in her voice. “I’m here all alone, and I do have an extra bedroom. Your mother d
rives you crazy, so why not stay here, at least for a few days?”

  Lynn looked up and, for the first time, noticed a Rose’s Bakery box on the counter. She did a mental cheer for the diversion.

  “Oh, wow,” she said, picking it up. “Please tell me this is my favorite seven-layer chocolate cake.”

  “It is. I bought it just for you this afternoon when I was out.”

  They got plates, dished out two slices, then retreated to the living room, each with a beer in hand. When Lynn took the first bite, she closed her eyes and let the rich chocolate take over her senses.

  “Sweet Jesus, that’s delicious. If you weren’t straight, I’d ask you to marry me.” Lynn held her breath for a moment after the words escaped and chastised herself for letting the Freudian thought slip out. Neither of them said anything as they finished their dessert. Lynn sat back and watched Jessie, wondering why she had blushed at the words. When Jessie finally sat back as well, Lynn filled their shot glasses and handed one to Jessie.

  “True confessions,” Jessie said, without looking at her.

  “What?”

  “True confessions,” Jessie repeated. “We used to play it when we were kids. Please don’t tell me you don’t remember?”

  “Of course I remember.” Lynn had always hated the game. It was like truth or dare, only without the opportunity to take a dare—you only had to answer the question honestly. It was a stupid juvenile game, and—

  “I’ll even let you ask the first question.”

  Lynn looked up in mid-thought. This could be the perfect opportunity to broach the subject she needed to talk about yet had nervously avoided all evening. Not being able to find the right moment to initiate it without the game irritated her. She never had a problem letting a woman know when she was interested. When Jessie looked at her, waiting for her to ask a question, her heart rate accelerated to a dangerously high level.

  “Fine.” Lynn sat up straight, a hand on each knee, and took a deep breath to calm herself. It would be harder than she thought. Jessie’s light brown eyes bored into her, waiting for the question Lynn was having trouble putting into words. “Okay, here goes. Have you ever…have you…shit, I can’t do this.”