Hideaway (The Women of Vino and Veritas)

by Rachel Lacey

We went out back to say goodbye to Holly, who was sitting in the grass playing with the puppies. Then we were on our way to Taylor’s SUV. She’d been quiet since she got here, and I hoped she didn’t regret inviting me.

  “I’m looking forward to this,” I told her. “I’ve never been to a wedding this small and informal before. It seems really personal and meaningful.”

  “Really?” She glanced at me as she drove. “Because I would picture you having a big expensive wedding in the city.”

  “That’s certainly what my parents would want,” I agreed.

  “What kind of wedding would you want?”

  I shrugged, staring out the window as we passed the farm at the end of the road. Cows roamed the green grass, tails flicking from side to side. “I don’t know,” I told her. “I guess I’m not one of those girls who has her dream wedding all planned out.”

  “Prefer to keep things casual?” she asked, and I was starting to dislike the direction this conversation had taken. It almost felt like she was trying to pick a fight with me, like she wanted me to say I hated everything about marriage, proclaim my love for the city, and leave her. But I wasn’t going to give her a fight, at least not today.

  “I’m capable of love and marriage,” I told her. “What about you?”

  “Ready and waiting,” she said.

  “And what kind of wedding would you want?”

  “Something small and casual like Steven and Jill’s.”

  “It would suit you,” I told her. “And I definitely see you having dogs involved somehow. Like, I’ve seen pictures where the couple had their dog as the ring bearer. You should do that.”

  She darted a glance in my direction, her expression softer than it had been a few minutes before. “Yeah. I mean, I can’t help envisioning all the possibilities for disaster when you add dogs to a wedding ceremony, but it does sound like me.”

  “Probably no worse than having kids in your ceremony, right?” I said.

  “Right,” she agreed. “And dogs are cuter.”

  We managed to keep the conversation light the rest of the way to the park where the wedding would be held. I saw about two dozen people already gathered on the grass, women in casual dresses like mine and men in polo shirts and khaki pants. I hadn’t been lying when I told Taylor I had no idea what my wedding would look like, but I liked this. A city wedding sounded nice too, but I might like something small, maybe set against the waterfront.

  And when I pictured it, my bride looked an awful lot like Taylor…

  She parked the SUV, and we stepped out. I’d hoped she might take my hand or even wrap an arm around me as we walked toward the other guests, but she kept her hands to herself as we crossed the lawn. Obviously, we needed to have a chat about the future, and soon.

  “Taylor,” someone called, and we turned toward a couple I recognized as her parents. Aside from a few extra wrinkles, they looked more or less the same as I remembered, and I found myself smiling as we approached. I’d spent a lot of happy afternoons at their house when I was growing up.

  “Mom, Dad, you remember Phoebe,” Taylor said, still not touching me.

  “Phoebe!” Taylor’s mom exclaimed, throwing her arms out to hug me. “Well, if you aren’t a sight for sore eyes. Look at you!” She wrapped me in a tight embrace.

  “It’s good to see you too, Mrs. Donovan,” I told her.

  “Oh, please call me Debbie. We’re all adults now,” she said with a laugh, reminding me why I’d always liked her. “I’d heard you were back in town. It’s so good to see you again.”

  “You too,” I told her. “I’m so glad to be back.”

  “Such a shame about your grandma,” Debbie said, giving her head a shake. “We were all just devastated when she passed away.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Taylor says she’s got you fostering a litter of puppies?” her mom asked.

  “She does, and they’re quite a handful,” I told her with a laugh.

  “Which is why I’ve been spending plenty of time helping you with them,” Taylor said, speaking for the first time since she’d introduced me to her parents.

  “Well, it’s great to see you, Phoebe. I’m so glad you came with Taylor tonight.” Debbie glanced between us, and if I wasn’t mistaken, she seemed to put two and two together, perhaps alerted by the awkward way Taylor was acting. The two of them had always been close, or at least they had when Taylor was younger, and I assumed they still were.

  “It’s great to see you too,” I told her.

  We chatted for a few more minutes, and then everyone began making their way over to the rows of white chairs that faced the gazebo in front of the lake. It was a beautiful backdrop. Steven wore a gray suit with a red rose pinned over the breast pocket, looking appropriately misty-eyed as the big moment approached.

  Taylor and I sat with her family, having been joined by her sister Kelly, her brother Luke, and their spouses. They all greeted me warmly, which was great, but the longer I sat here, the more this started to feel like high school, when Taylor and I had hidden our relationship behind the mask of our friendship. It had been necessary then, since I was still in the closet, but now it just felt awkward. I wanted to hold her hand, and I wanted to dance with her after the ceremony.

  Kelly asked me questions about Boston while we waited for the ceremony to start. She and her husband were visiting the city for a mini-vacation next month and wanted all my suggestions for what to see and do while they were in town. I had plenty of them, sharing recommendations until music began to play behind us, alerting us to the start of the ceremony.

  I turned in my seat to see the bride in a simple white dress, carrying a bouquet of brightly colored flowers. A ripple of excitement passed through the crowd, murmurs and whispers about how beautiful she looked. But when I looked at Taylor, I was surprised to find her watching me instead of the bride.

  28

  Taylor

  Phoebe was so beautiful tonight, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. As we made our way to the bar after the ceremony, I found myself watching the way the afternoon sun glinted in her hair and how perfectly the green of her dress complemented her complexion. That dress…

  It fell to her knees, hugging her figure just enough to make my throat dry without being overtly sexy. The neckline plunged in the front, causing me to fantasize about what kind of bra—if any—she might be wearing underneath. I was definitely going to find out when we got home, which would hopefully be soon.

  I didn’t plan to stay at the reception very long. It was torture having her here without telling everyone I knew that this was the woman I loved, the only woman I’d ever loved. And what was the point, when she was about to leave town?

  “What do you want to drink?” I asked her as we reached the front of the line. I saw a big bowl of some kind of punch, along with a selection of wine and beer.

  “Champagne punch?” the bartender asked.

  “Yes, please,” Phoebe said, extending a hand.

  He handed her a glass of pink punch before turning to me.

  “The same,” I told him. I rarely drank wine, and champagne even less often, but it felt appropriate at a wedding.

  We took our glasses and made our way across the grass toward my family, who had gathered at a table under the picnic shelter. Phoebe seemed at ease with them. Her smile looked genuine, and her shoulders were relaxed. I’d made things between us awkward earlier, but I didn’t know how else to act. I didn’t know how to protect my heart against her imminent departure, not when she looked at me like I was the only woman in the world and talked about simple weddings here in Vermont.

  What was I supposed to think? And how was I supposed to let her go?

  I didn’t know the answer to either question. Instead, we sat and ate with my family. By the time the cake was cut, strands of lights overhead had been lit against the growing dusk and music began to play through the park, inviting us to dance. It was probably time for Phoebe and me to leave before the ev
ening got any more complicated.

  “I’ll be right back,” Phoebe said, brushing a hand against my waist before she headed in the direction of the bathrooms.

  I made my way toward the bar to get some water, bumping into my mom on the way.

  “Is it my imagination, or are you and Phoebe more than friends?” she asked as she fell into step beside me.

  “Um.” I gave her a look, partly annoyed that she’d noticed what I’d been too afraid to tell her, but mostly relieved that she’d called me on it. “Yeah, we are.”

  Mom beamed at me. “I thought I saw something between you tonight, and then I got to thinking about how close you were the summer after you came out. It didn’t click for me then, but looking back…am I wrong?”

  “You’re not wrong,” I told her.

  She looked thoughtful for a moment. “Now I can’t believe I missed it. You two were high school sweethearts? Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

  “Phoebe wasn’t out then,” I told her. “It wasn’t my story to tell. We broke up at the end of the summer, and that was the end of it until she came back last month.”

  Mom tapped a finger against her lips. “So that’s why you two quit speaking. I always wondered.”

  “That’s why.”

  “And now you’re back together,” she said. “Is it serious?”

  “I don’t know.” And that was basically the whole problem. “I think it could be…but she’s headed back to Boston soon, so I just don’t see a future for us.”

  “There’s no possibility of her staying?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Sounds like you two need to have a talk about it.” Mom shifted her gaze to look over my shoulder, letting me know that Phoebe was on her way back. Sure enough, she slid in beside me a few moments later, and this time, I took her hand. It seemed pointless to deny what my mom—and who knew who else—had already figured out.

  “Want to dance?” I asked her.

  Her whole expression brightened. “I’d love to.”

  We excused ourselves from my mom and walked to the part of the lawn where other couples were dancing. There wasn’t a dance floor, so we were limited by our ability to dance on grass, but Phoebe and I were up for the challenge. After a few minutes, a ballad began to play, and we moved closer to each other.

  “I’m sorry I was trying to hold you at arm’s length tonight,” I said as I took her hands in mine, tugging her in for a kiss as we began to sway to the music.

  Her eyes widened, reflecting the bulbs overhead like stars in the night sky. “Well, I’m glad you changed your mind.”

  “Me too.” I slid an arm around her waist, and she settled against me, her cheek resting against mine, or more like against the side of my chin. Our height difference was more pronounced when she wore flats.

  “What changed your mind?” she asked, looking up at me.

  “I hated not touching you, for one thing,” I told her. “But also, my mom figured it out anyway.”

  Phoebe’s lips curved in a smile before she ducked her head, resting it in the crook of my neck. “Why does that not surprise me?”

  “She’s pretty observant,” I agreed.

  “And you’re okay with it?”

  “Sure. It’s not like I didn’t want people to know we’re together. I just…I’m scared of you leaving.”

  “Well, I’m not leaving tonight,” she said quietly. “I might not leave at all if you’d quit pushing me away.”

  “What?” I drew back to look at her.

  She met my gaze head-on. “Things will have to change, it’s true. I don’t own the cabin, and my dad’s getting antsy for me to finish up so he can rent it out. Not to mention, I’m paying for a condo in Boston that’s sitting empty. But change doesn’t have to be a bad thing, and it certainly doesn’t mean we have to break up.”

  “I want to believe that.” With my hands resting on her waist, the warmth of her body beneath my fingers, and the full force of those chocolate eyes on mine, I wanted forever with this woman.

  “Then let’s just go with the flow and see what happens,” she said.

  “I don’t know if that’s enough for me, but I’m trying.”

  “What part of it isn’t enough?” she asked.

  “The part where you go back to Boston, whenever and however it happens.”

  “I’m trying to tell you that maybe I won’t go,” she whispered, pressing a kiss against my neck. “I’d have to find a job here…and a home, and those are big things to think about when you and I have only been together a few weeks. I won’t make promises I can’t keep, but I want to make this work, Taylor.”

  I pulled her closer. “I’m sorry for pushing you away earlier.”

  “I know you’re afraid of getting hurt,” she said. “But don’t you see that I’m afraid of the same thing? This is scary for me too. Boston is my home. I don’t know if I can build a life for myself here in Vermont, but I’m trying.”

  “And I really appreciate that,” I said. “Because I know I could never live in Boston.”

  “Not even for me?” She rested her head on my shoulder, peering up at me.

  “I could say yes,” I told her, deciding to be as honest with her as she’d just been with me. “I could move to Boston, but I’d never truly be happy there, and sooner or later, it would poison our relationship.”

  “Fair enough,” she said. “Well, I love Boston, and my friends and family are there, but I like it here too. I can’t get the same kind of job here that I had there, but I could expand my job search to the Burlington area and see if there’s anything here that could work.”

  “Really? You’d do that for me?”

  She smiled, wrapping her arms around me as we swayed to the music. “Yeah, I would.”

  My throat tightened, and tears glazed my vision. “That’s a pretty big deal, Phoebe Shaw.”

  “I know, and like I said, I’m not making any promises. I’m just keeping all my options open right now, okay?”

  I nodded, feeling hopeful for the first time since she’d come back into my life. “Okay.”

  I woke in Phoebe’s bed the next morning, wrapped in the welcome warmth of her body. Except…Phoebe wasn’t usually a snuggler. Since I’d started sleeping here after Cherry’s surgery, I’d generally woken on one side of the bed, while she was curled on the other. I opened my eyes to discover Violet pressed against me, fast asleep with her head on the pillow. “Oh boy,” I whispered.

  “What?” Phoebe mumbled from the far side of the bed.

  “I think someone’s ready to join the adults.” I reached out to rub Violet. Her eyes popped open, and her tail started wagging.

  Phoebe’s arm slid around my waist as she rolled to face me. “Oh my God. What is she doing in the bed?”

  “Her bed is full of small nursing creatures who’ve got their baby teeth in now?” I suggested, giving Violet another rub.

  “Yikes,” Phoebe murmured. “Do they bite her when they nurse?”

  “I don’t know, but they’re old enough that it’s fine for her to want some time away from them.”

  The puppies were cute, but they were kind of a mood killer, because instead of fooling around in bed with Phoebe like I wanted to, we had to get up and take them outside. Even so, the pads in the whelping pen were a mess and had to be swapped out. Four weeks old was a challenging age. They were old enough to play, almost ready to start eating solid food, and they could go to the bathroom on their own now but weren’t old enough to have any real bladder control.

  “Yuck,” Phoebe said, echoing my thoughts as we cleaned out the pen together. “No wonder Violet got in bed with us. I wouldn’t want to sleep in here either.”

  The situation was made more complicated by Cherry, who still had to be separated from the rest of her siblings unless one of us could supervise. The good news was that she’d get her staples out in two days. The bad news was that her current T-shirt was soaked in pee. I removed it and carried her outside to see i
f she’d pee again on her own before I cleaned her up.

  Then I bottle fed her while Phoebe took the other puppies outside. By the time I’d finished, Phoebe had started a pot of coffee and gated the puppies in the kitchen with her, where they were currently rolling each other across the floor, yipping and playing. Violet was on the other side of the room, eating her breakfast.

  “I liked them better when they stayed in one place,” Phoebe said, brushing a curl out of her face with the back of her hand. “This is insanity.”

  “It is,” I agreed. “But it only lasts a few weeks.”

  “I don’t know why anyone would voluntarily sign up for this.” She narrowed her eyes at the puppies.

  “Because they’re cute?” I scooped Blaze off the floor and held him out to her. He wriggled in my hands, leaning forward to lick her face.

  She smiled, shaking her head. “They’re cute, but oh my God, please grow up already so we can send them to their new homes.”

  “Soon.” I was already fielding adoption applications for them and hoped to finalize their forever homes in the next week or so. I’d been dragging my feet a bit, waiting for Holly to make her pick, knowing I wouldn’t have trouble placing the other three. Puppies were easy that way. Violet would be harder to place, but if she and Minnie got along, I could take her in as my new foster after the puppies were weaned, unless Phoebe was still here.

  If Phoebe was still here. If Phoebe wanted to keep fostering her.

  If…

  Last night, she’d sounded like she wanted to stay. This morning, she was side-eyeing the puppies in her kitchen like she couldn’t get out of here fast enough. I’d basically moved in with her after Cherry’s surgery, and now I was hesitant to leave, since I’d brought this puppy chaos into her life. Maybe Kelly could keep Minnie until these guys were fully weaned.

  But what would happen after the puppies were adopted?

  29

  Phoebe

  The next three weeks passed in a blur of puppy-related chaos. There were holes chewed in blankets, pee-soaked floors, and a plenty of super-cute antics that at least partly made up for the mess and destruction. Cherry got her staples out and rejoined her siblings with a clean bill of health, and Holly made her adoption official. She’d be going home on Friday. They all would. Taylor had worked hard to find amazing homes for them.