by Rachel Lacey
“I’ll take your word for it,” I told her as I ate my cracker.
Minnie crawled between us, looking from Phoebe to me with her most pleading expression. Blue sat beside me, watching us with his head resting between his front paws. Phoebe slipped a covert pepperoni to Minnie before giving me a sheepish look, and I rolled my eyes. Generally, I toed a hard line when it came to feeding human food to my dogs, but I seemed to be soft where Phoebe was concerned.
We snacked and chatted until all the food was gone. I packed up our trash, and we lay on the blanket together. Minnie snuggled beside me, her furry head resting against my thigh. Blue lay at the edge of the blanket, preferring his own space. His leash was looped around my wrist for safekeeping.
“It looks so much the same,” Phoebe said, sliding her hand into mine. “And yet, so different.”
“More dogs?” I teased. Occasionally, we’d brought Margery’s dog Comet with us as teenagers, but usually it had been just the two of us.
“There’s that, but maybe it’s just that I feel different. I used to be so worried someone would see us. I was terrified my family would find out about us and what they’d say. It was exhausting trying to keep myself hidden.”
“How did they take it when you came out?” I asked.
“A lot better than I’d feared,” she said. “My dad went outside to work in the yard while he processed it, and my mom got really awkward and talked too much. But neither of them said anything awful, and after they’d gotten over the shock, they both told me they loved and supported me. It took them a while to get used to seeing me with another woman, but they came around eventually.”
“I’m glad.”
“Do you ever think about the fact that no one who knew us then knows we were together?” Phoebe asked.
“One person knew,” I told her.
She rolled toward me, fingertips trailing up and down my arm. “Who? Did you tell your mom?”
“It was your grandma.”
Phoebe’s eyes went wide. “Oh my God. You told her?”
I shook my head. “She guessed.”
“What? No way.” Phoebe drew back, her expression somewhere between shock and outrage.
“She didn’t know at the time,” I clarified. “It wasn’t until years later, probably around the time you came out, I guess. You’d been up for a visit, and I had made myself scarce while you were here, like I always did. After you left, Margery called me on it. She said she’d always wondered how you and I went from best friends to not speaking, and suddenly, it all made sense to her.”
“Holy shit,” Phoebe said. “I had no idea. Why didn’t she ever ask me about it or tell me she knew?”
“I think she didn’t want to overstep. She wanted you to tell her on your own.”
“I never told anyone,” Phoebe said quietly. “Not a single person, at least not until this week.”
“I never did either.”
“That’s weird, isn’t it?” She sat up, wrapping her arms around her knees. “I mean, you were so important to me. Our relationship was so foundational to me figuring out my identity. And no one knew.”
“Well, your grandma did, and I think she would approve of what we’re doing now. She always tried so hard to invite me over when you were in town,” I told her.
Phoebe glanced at me. “You think she wanted us to be together?”
“Why wouldn’t she? She adored you, and she and I were pretty close too.”
“So, are we…you know, together?” she asked, still watching me intently.
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” I crossed one ankle over the other, turning my attention to the puffy clouds drifting overhead.
“And how do you want to answer it?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. Part of me wanted to jump in with both feet and make the most of every moment we had together before Phoebe left town, but my pragmatic side wanted to hit the brakes before we’d even gotten started. We’d had our night, and it had been amazing. Memories had been made, and the safe thing to do now was to pivot back to friendship before I got my heart broken by Phoebe a second time.
“You’re doing a lot of thinking there,” she said, narrowing her eyes at me.
“Then tell me what you’re thinking,” I deflected.
“Okay,” she said with a nod. “My head says it’s a terrible idea. I’m leaving town soon, and statistically, long-distance relationships have a high probability of failure. Not to mention, I just got out of a serious relationship, which means that again, statistically, you’d be my rebound, and those don’t tend to work out either. If you look at the numbers, we’re a terrible idea. But my heart tells a different story.”
“What does your heart say?” I asked, almost terrified to hear the answer.
“My heart says we owe it to ourselves to see where this is going.” She reached over and took my hand. “You’re all I think about, Taylor. I thought I was going to spend my time in Vermont missing Sabrina and fuming about that meme, but I’ve barely thought about either since I got here. If I was truly heartbroken over losing her, I’d be miserable now. I wouldn’t have gotten over her so easily.”
“You sure seemed to get over me pretty easily last time,” I said, knowing it was a cheap shot but unable to resist taking it.
“I didn’t.” Her voice trembled as she spoke. “I was an absolute mess that fall. I spent weeks crying in my bedroom. My parents were pulling out their hair trying to figure out what was wrong, but I was too terrified to tell them. I thought they’d disown me or throw me out of the house. That was overly dramatic thinking, but in my defense, I was sixteen.”
I managed a smile. I didn’t like hearing that she’d been as heartbroken as I was, but at least I could understand the feeling.
“Anyway, I felt terrible about running off on you, and I was so afraid you’d never speak to me again, even if I worked up the courage to call you. My mind was playing all kinds of tricks on me by then. Part of me hoped that if I just didn’t think about you, I could go back to thinking I was straight. And the longer I waited to call you, the more convinced I became that you’d never be able to forgive me. I was a mess.”
“I didn’t know,” I said.
“Of course you didn’t, because I never called.” Her gaze fell. “I’ll forever be sorry about that.”
“I could have called too, you know? Like you said, sixteen-year-olds aren’t exactly known for their excellent decision-making skills.”
“And that’s what makes me want to try again,” Phoebe said, raising her eyes to mine. “Don’t we owe it to ourselves to give our relationship a real chance?”
“Jesus.” I rubbed a hand over my face. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe we can get it right this time, Taylor.”
“But you live in Boston,” I reminded her.
“I do now, but that doesn’t mean I have to live there forever.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying…let’s not think about long-term logistics yet. Let’s just make the most of our time together here in Vermont and see what happens.”
“I don’t want to start a relationship that doesn’t have a chance of succeeding,” I said, hearing the gruffness in my voice. “I’m a small-town girl at heart, Phoebe. I just want a simple life here with my family and my dogs. I’d be miserable if I tried to live in the city, and you love Boston. I couldn’t ask you to give that up for me.”
“Then don’t ask,” she whispered. “I don’t know what the answer is—not yet anyway—but I know these hurdles aren’t insurmountable. So I’m asking you for a fresh start. Let’s just enjoy our time here together, and if we have something worth fighting for when it’s time for me to leave, then let’s fight for it.”
I took a deep breath and blew it out. The logistics that Phoebe was so blasé about felt like a big deal to me. Her heart would always be in Boston, and I was powerless to change that. But at the same time, I was already too emotionally invested to not kee
p sleeping with her for however long she was in Vermont. “How about a compromise?” I suggested.
“Like what?” Phoebe asked, giving my fingers another squeeze.
“A summer fling,” I said. “No regrets when it’s time for you to leave.”
“But we can reevaluate when the time comes?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Let’s not make promises we can’t keep. We’re good at summer flings, right? Maybe that’s all we’re meant for.”
“Taylor…” Her brows drew together.
“A summer fling,” I insisted.
“Fine, if that’s what you want to call it,” she said. “But I’m not sixteen anymore. I’m not going to run off without a goodbye this time. And I’m not giving up on us without a fight either.”
23
Phoebe
“Hi,” I said, not recognizing the soft, silly voice that came from my mouth.
Elizabeth the puppy squinted at me out of baby-blue eyes. She was the firstborn, the biggest, and now, the first puppy to open her eyes. I had definitely named her accurately, because she was a queen in the making. Right now, I held her on my knees, stroking her soft fur as I let her get her first good look at me.
“What do you think?” I asked the puppy. “How’s life treating you so far?”
She blinked at me, looking bored at best. I was never quite sure what to say to them, but Taylor said it was important to get them used to the sound of my voice and that I should hold them regularly to get them used to that too.
At two weeks old, Elizabeth had almost doubled her birth weight, and now that her eyes were open, she looked so much more grown up. Suddenly, I could envision her—and the rest of the puppies—barreling around the house and getting into all kinds of trouble. For now, they only crawled around their playpen, but things would change soon, probably before I was ready for them to.
That seemed like a pretty good metaphor for my life right now, actually.
After spending a few minutes with Elizabeth, I weighed her and put her back in the pen, then repeated the process with the other three puppies. While I played with them, I texted back and forth with Courtney and Emily, the way we did most days since I’d been in Vermont and couldn’t see them in person. I’d just finished weighing Cherry—who was still the smallest—when I heard Taylor knocking at the front door.
With a smile, I kissed the puppy on her little pink nose and set her back in the pen before rushing down the hall to greet Taylor. She’d come over after work every day this week, although she usually stopped at home first to drop off her dogs. It really would be easier if she could just bring them with her.
“Hey,” I said as I opened the door, greeting her with a kiss.
“Hi.” She stepped inside, bending to greet Violet, who’d joined us at the door, barking and wagging her tail. “Mm, it smells good in here.”
“I put a roast in the crockpot this morning,” I told her. “I’ve been hungry all day, smelling it while it cooked.”
“I bet,” she said. “How are the puppers?”
“Big. Oh, and Elizabeth’s eyes opened.”
“Aw.” Taylor headed toward the bedroom to see for herself while I took the roast out of the crockpot.
It practically fell apart beneath my carving knife as I sliced it. I prepared two plates with beef, turnips, and potatoes and had just placed them on the table when Taylor came back down the hall.
“She’s adorable with those little blue eyes,” she said.
“Will they stay that blue?” I asked.
“Probably not,” she said as she sat in the chair opposite mine. “They’ll probably be brown like Violet’s.”
We dug into our food, falling silent for a few minutes while we ate.
“How do you feel about coming over to my place tomorrow night?” Taylor asked.
“Sure,” I said. “Before V and V, you mean?” I wasn’t performing this week, but she and I had made plans to go together anyway, like she did every Friday night.
She nodded. “I thought I could cook for us for a change before we go out, since Holly’s going to stop by and check on Violet for you.”
“I would feel bad about asking her to do that,” I said, “but I’ve seen the way she looks at those puppies. She’s totally smitten.”
“Actually, it’s more than that,” Taylor said. “Remember how I told you about her senior dog who’d gotten too grumpy to let her foster anymore?”
I had a feeling this story was about to take a sad turn. “Yeah.”
“Well, she found out last week that Candy has metastatic lung cancer.”
“Oh no.” My stomach swooped. I’d never met Holly’s dog, but from the way she talked about her, I knew she loved Candy so much.
Taylor frowned at her plate. “It’s the hardest part of pet ownership, you know? We’re meant to outlive them, but that doesn’t make it any easier. But between you and me, she’s scoping out Violet’s puppies for herself.”
“She’s going to adopt one?”
“She hasn’t officially decided yet, but unofficially…yes.”
“Oh, that makes me so happy,” I said, then flinched. “I mean, not about Candy, obviously. But I’m glad one of the puppies will go home with her. They’ll have the best life.”
Taylor smiled as she cut a bite of her roast. “Yeah, I think it’s going to work out perfectly. Hopefully a new puppy will help her through her grief.”
“I hope so too. What about the other three? Has anyone applied to adopt them?”
“We’ve had a handful of applications, but nothing’s official yet. I like to wait until the puppies are older and let people interact with them before we make a match.”
“Makes sense,” I told her. “And Holly should get first pick.”
“She will,” Taylor told me.
My phone chimed with an incoming text, and I glanced at it as I took another bite of the roast. Then I almost choked as I saw Sabrina’s name gleaming on the screen. When I looked up, Taylor was staring at my phone.
“I didn’t know you and Sabrina were still in touch,” she said.
I swallowed my food and reached for my glass of water. My cheeks were hot, even though I hadn’t done anything wrong. “We’re not.”
Taylor said nothing, turning her attention to her plate.
“She’s texted me a few times since I got here, asking to talk,” I explained. “I haven’t responded.”
“Maybe you should,” Taylor said.
“I didn’t know what to say, and I still don’t.”
“So you left town without a word?” Taylor said. “Sounds familiar.”
“Whoa.” I held my hands up. “No. She broke up with me, remember? She dumped me because she was upset about all the attention I was getting from that meme.”
“Sorry,” Taylor said. “That was uncalled for. Still, it seems like maybe you two should talk.”
I clicked on Sabrina’s text, revealing the words I’m sorry on the screen. “Maybe we should grab a coffee sometime when I’m back in Boston and have a civilized conversation for closure’s sake, but it’s over between us, Taylor.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Yes.” Unlike my split from Taylor, this one was meant to be. To prove my point, I composed a quick text to Sabrina, telling her all the things I’d just told Taylor. “I’m glad she’s realized she was an asshole for dumping me the way she did, but I’ve moved on.”
Taylor gave me a hesitant smile. “Good for you.”
I took her hand across the table. “So, your place tomorrow night?”
The following evening, I hopped in my car, headed for Taylor’s apartment. I was curious to see it. So far, she’d always come to me, mostly because of Violet. I drove down Mountain Laurel Road and made a right. Ten minutes later, the big white colonial she’d told me to look for came into view. I spotted her SUV in the driveway where it wrapped around behind the house, and I pulled in behind her.
The house had a large yard with a swi
ng set in back and various kids’ toys scattered across the grass. I followed the walkway behind the house and descended three steps to the door to Taylor’s basement apartment. I knocked and was greeted by Minnie’s booming bark from inside. Moments later, her furry face appeared in the window, bouncing excitedly.
Taylor pulled the door open, waving me in. “Hi.”
“Hey.” I stepped into her arms and gave her a kiss, lingering there until Minnie’s paws landed on my thigh. “Jealous much?” I asked the dog.
She barked, tail sweeping back and forth across the floor.
“I guess we’re both excited to see you.” Taylor hooked her hands into the back pockets of my jeans and grinned at me.
“Well, I’m excited to see you both too, one of you more than the other. No offense, Minnie.”
“She’s devastated,” Taylor whispered as she tugged me closer.
“So I see.” I brought my lips to hers as Minnie whined at my feet. We kissed, seemingly ravenous for each other, until I was gasping for breath and aching with need for her.
“Um,” Taylor said when we came up for air, hazel eyes dancing with lust and amusement. “Do you want a tour, or should I take you straight to bed?”
“Funny.” I nudged my forehead against hers. “Actually, I don’t care about the tour right now.”
“Good.” She took my hand and tugged me through a door on the far side of the living room. I glimpsed wood-paneled walls and a row of small windows near the ceiling before she’d pushed me onto the bed. We scrambled out of our clothes in record time, and then Taylor settled herself against me, straddling my thigh as she bent her head to kiss me.
We’d been like this all week as we caught up on thirteen years of pent-up sexual tension. Often, sex was awkward the first few times with someone new, while we got to know each other’s bodies, but that hadn’t been the case with Taylor. We just dove in headfirst, and everything so far had been great.
She brought her hand between my thighs as she began to rock against me. My gasp mingled with her moan in the otherwise quiet bedroom. Taylor moved herself against my thigh while she stroked me with her fingers, and I basically just hung on for the ride, because damn, this was really working for me.
