Capturing Forever

by Erin Dutton

“Are you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then why can you find time to take care of Teddy and have lunch over there every day, but you won’t make time to see a house with me? The woman you’re in love with and supposedly want to live with.” Nina’s voice rose incrementally both in volume and pitch, and she yanked her hands away at the end as if emphasizing her point.

  Casey didn’t reach for her again.

  Nina nodded, seeming defeated. “I’ll come back later for the things out of my drawer.” She drove home the truth with that one word. Casey hadn’t really been able to commit to her for more than a drawer in her dresser.

  After Nina stormed out, Casey played the conversation back in her head. Nina’s ultimatum felt vaguely like the one Casey had given Jacqueline all those years ago. She’d pushed Jacqueline, expecting her to cave and draw closer, and had been surprised when Jacqueline had seemed able to walk away. But she’d just given Nina the same response—because she’d been lying. She wasn’t in love with her.

  Was that how Jacqueline had felt, too? Had she walked away because, like Casey today, she hadn’t been compelled to stay? Some part of Casey had always wondered if they’d given up too soon on a great love. But maybe Jacqueline had never felt that way. Maybe their fights over her schedule, their finances, even Elle, had just been a convenient reason to end what wasn’t going to work anyway.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Casey flipped through the on-screen guide on the television, searching for her next block of mindless entertainment. She settled on a show about people who move into ridiculously small homes. She might like that—downsizing, de-cluttering. But then she’d have to have a separate studio. She glanced at the door to her current workspace. No, she liked it only steps away. Maybe she should just go through the rest of the house and throw away some junk. She’d planned to do that when she and Nina moved but now had lost some of her motivation.

  She’d lost the drive to do a lot of things in the three weeks since she and Nina broke up. Other than work, she tended to go a bit hermit after a split. She’d still visited Teddy several times a week, but only during the day when she knew she’d be the only one. He’d worked up to walking around the block with her and seemed to be doing much better physically, though she still worried about his moments of confusion.

  When Sean came home one of the weekends, she put on a good front and didn’t think he’d suspected a thing. He was used to Nina being absent when he was around, and they didn’t talk much about her. In fact, she’d discovered, her friends and family didn’t ask about Nina, and if she simply didn’t volunteer anything, they weren’t curious.

  Nina had come and picked up her stuff. They’d made another attempt at conversation that turned into an argument. When Casey had really examined their relationship, she realized they’d been headed toward this impasse for some time. She supposed she’d rather they have figured it out now before they moved in together.

  She hadn’t seen Jacqueline at all. They still hadn’t talked about the kiss and probably wouldn’t, since so much time had passed. If she didn’t see her before then, Jacqueline would be here for Kendra’s party next week. She glanced around the house, noting the changes she’d made after Jacqueline moved out. How did she feel when she came back here?

  Maybe she should do some of that de-cluttering before she had a house full of guests next week. Maybe she’d do that tomorrow. She eyed a photo of her and Nina taken on their trip to Boston and decided that’s where she’d start. She grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl in her lap. Today, she’d take a much-needed day off.

  She’d barely moved from her spot two hours later when the front door opened. Sean loped into the room and stopped, obviously not expecting her to be there. Or perhaps he just didn’t think she’d be wrapped in a blanket, vegging out on a Saturday evening.

  “Hey. I figured you’d be out with Nina.” He flopped down on the couch next to her.

  “Not tonight.”

  He nodded, then bit his lower lip like he did when he was trying to figure something out. “Everything okay with you two?”

  Casey shook her head. “We broke up.”

  “Oh, Mom, I’m sorry.”

  She glanced at him. “You never liked her.”

  “Eh, maybe not.” He gave her the puppy-dog eyes that always coaxed a reaction from her when he was a kid, and then his expression turned serious. “But you haven’t liked all of my girlfriends. And I want you to be happy.”

  “But you knew it wouldn’t be with her.” She flipped one side of her blanket over his legs and passed him the popcorn bowl, encouraging him to settle in with her.

  “I suspected.”

  “How?”

  “She’s too much like Mama.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He shrugged. “She wanted you to support her, not financially, but at home. Like everything you do should come second to her.”

  “Mama’s not like that,” she said, more for his benefit than because it was true. She didn’t want him to have a bad impression of Jacqueline. She might have given up a part of herself for Jacqueline, but she’d done it willingly at the time.

  “That’s why you’re changing your schedule to look after Poppa.”

  “I do that because I love him.” His words touched a wound still fresh from her confrontation with Nina.

  “I know. He’s like your second father.” His casual acknowledgement of her connection to Teddy almost tipped her over the emotional edge she’d been riding lately. “Nah. I just mean, you’ve been putting everyone else first all your life—Mama, me, Elle, the boys.”

  Her heart clenched at the mention of the sibling boys, ages six and eight, she’d fostered a few years after she and Jacqueline broke up. They were eventually placed with their maternal grandmother, who’d been resisting raising her daughter’s kids because she thought she was too old. But she couldn’t handle seeing them in foster care, so she took them in. Casey kept in touch with their grandmother and received periodic updates and photos as the boys aged. She’d shared the photos with Sean so he’d feel less disconnected from the brothers he’d bonded with.

  “It’s about time you got to come first. And now that I’m out of the house—”

  “You don’t look very out of the house.” She nudged him with her knee. “You didn’t tell me you were coming home this weekend. Did you bring me your laundry?”

  “I mean, while I’m here…” He glanced guiltily toward the door, where he’d dropped his duffle bag. He lifted his hands palm up and shrugged.

  She touched his shoulder, turning their conversation serious once more. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Nina and I weren’t meant to be.”

  “She didn’t deserve you anyway.”

  She smiled. “When did my baby boy grow up?”

  He bent his head in a halfhearted attempt to avoid her ruffling his hair.

  “In fact, you’re so grown up, you should do your own laundry this weekend.”

  He burrowed closer into the couch, pulled more of the blanket off her, and nodded at the television. “After this episode.”

  *

  Jacqueline knocked on the door of Casey’s house thirty minutes before the guests were scheduled to arrive. The white SUV in the driveway bore the logo of the company she’d hired to cater the party. She was relieved to see Kendra’s car beside it, since she’d be less likely to be alone with Casey.

  But when the door opened, Casey stood in the threshold. Jacqueline swept a glance over Casey’s tight jeans, black tuxedo-style vest, and white button-down shirt but didn’t let her gaze linger.

  “Sorry, I’m a little late. And I know I said I’d help you get things ready. So put me to work.” She followed Casey in, looking at the gentle waves of her casually styled hair instead of the way her jeans hugged her ass. Damn it, even after so many years, Jacqueline didn’t have to think very hard to recall the way that ass felt in her hands. She shook her head, chastising her idiot brain, which
had apparently lost a purposely constructed filter or two in the midst of that kiss several weeks ago.

  Casey turned around and caught her shaking her head. “What’s wrong?”

  “Hmm? Nothing.”

  Casey led her to her studio. “I figured we’d play poker in here because it required the least amount of rearranging to make room for the poker table. I told the caterers to set up over there.” She pointed to the far wall, where two long tables already held a row of chafing dishes. “They’re in the kitchen, and I’m trying to stay out of the way. Kendra’s in my bedroom touching up her face.”

  Casey turned quickly, and Jacqueline stopped right in front of her. This close, she could tell that Casey had put on a little bit of eye makeup, and her lips shone with lip gloss. Jacqueline managed to stifle the urge to ask if it was peppermint-flavored.

  “Casey, I—”

  “Kendra’s so excited about this party.” Casey’s tone sounded forced, but her intention was clear—distance.

  “I prefer to think of it as a wedding shower.” Jacqueline went along, thinking avoidance was probably better than bringing up their kiss right before being forced to spend several hours with each other.

  “I told you to stop calling it that,” Kendra said as she entered the room. The atmosphere between them lightened just a little with the introduction of a neutral party. “A van with a party-rental logo is in the driveway.”

  Jacqueline grinned at Casey, and they wordlessly agreed to let Kendra in on the plan for the party. “That’ll be the poker table and the dealer we hired.”

  “No way!” Kendra flung an arm around each of them and yanked them close. “You two rock.”

  Casey reached out to steady herself and grasped Jacqueline’s forearm. Without meaning to, Jacqueline, off-balance herself, had grabbed Casey’s hip. Jacqueline looked at her own hand, then met Casey’s eyes and found confusion and panic. No doubt she worried Nina would come in and see them like this.

  Jacqueline jerked free of Kendra and stepped back. “I’ll go show them in here.”

  She reached the driveway just as an older woman pulled a large aluminum briefcase from the van. The woman couldn’t have been more than five feet tall, and that included her salon-set, snow-white hair.

  “Hey, let me get that for you.” Jacqueline reached for the case.

  “Oh, it’s no problem.” She set it on the ground and extended a handle. “It’s got wheels.” She left the case near the van door. “But you can help me wrestle out this table.” She indicated a folded poker table stowed in the back of the vehicle.

  “No problem.”

  “I’m Mabel. I’ll be your dealer.”

  “I’m Jacqueline, the host of the party.” She grasped Mabel’s hand, finding a strong, sure grip. “Let’s get this inside and I’ll introduce you to the guest of honor.”

  Together they managed to carry the table into the studio. After she introduced Mabel to Casey and Kendra, they offered to help. Mabel sent them out to the van for folding chairs while she and Jacqueline set up the table. Then, while Mabel directed the placement of the chairs, Jacqueline ran back out for the aluminum case.

  She brought Mabel the case and hovered for a moment, awaiting further instructions. Mabel opened it and unpacked a deck of cards and a dealer button. She started removing chips of varying denominations and colors.

  Mabel waved her away. “I’m all set until you girls are ready to start playing.”

  “Thanks. I’ll let you know when the rest of the guests arrive.” Jacqueline found Casey and Kendra in the living room. Casey, her back to Jacqueline, lit a candle on one end of the mantle.

  “Where’s Nina?” Kendra asked at the exact moment Jacqueline approached. Jacqueline almost turned around and walked away, but Casey’s response stopped her.

  “She’s not coming.”

  “Really? She’s taking this jealousy thing a bit too far, isn’t she?” Kendra propped her hands on her hips.

  Casey turned toward Kendra and her eyes met Jacqueline’s instead. Something flashed in them, but before Jacqueline could figure out what it was, she’d jerked her gaze back to Kendra’s face. “That’s not—”

  “Today’s not really about her. You’d think she could just suck it up and—”

  “We broke up.” Casey cut off the tirade that Jacqueline knew Kendra was winding up for. Casey’s abrupt statement kicked Jacqueline in the chest, and she might have gasped out loud.

  “Oh, honey, I’m sorry.” Kendra pulled Casey into a hug so tight that her chin rested on Kendra’s shoulder and she physically couldn’t turn away from Jacqueline.

  Jacqueline looked at the floor, wishing now that she’d walked away at the beginning of this conversation. She hated the look of unhappiness on Casey’s face and felt guilty for the part of her that was glad Nina was out of Casey’s life.

  Kendra released Casey so quickly that she practically stumbled forward. “I’m going to get us some drinks. We’ll have more fun without her anyway.”

  “Hey, I’m sorry about Nina.” Jacqueline filled the awkward silence left by Kendra’s departure.

  “You looked surprised. I thought Sean would have told you.”

  Jacqueline shook her head. “You didn’t break up because we—”

  “No.”

  “Because it was my fault, and if she couldn’t forgive you for something you had no—”

  “I didn’t tell her.”

  “Oh. Do we need to talk about—”

  “I’d really rather not.”

  “Okay.”

  “Anyway, that wasn’t the reason.”

  “Okay. Was it recent?”

  Casey shrugged. “A few weeks ago.”

  “Are you—”

  “I’m okay.”

  “I know we’re not really friends, but if you need to talk, I’m here.”

  Casey laughed. “Talk to my ex about another ex. Sure. Maybe you guys can form a little support group or something.”

  “I’m just trying to—”

  “I said I’m fine. It was basically mutual and long overdue.”

  “All right. Got it.” Jacqueline held up her hands and took a step back, physically representing her retreat from the conversation. But her mind was still spinning with this new piece of information. She’d been beating herself up for weeks over kissing an unavailable woman—not that being single made Casey more attainable.

  “I found tequila.” Kendra held up a bottle and a salt shaker. “No limes. We’ll have to rough it.”

  “Oh, me, please.” Jacqueline raised her hand, then took one of the shot glasses from Kendra.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Casey was well aware that Jacqueline tended to get in trouble with copious amounts of tequila. In fact, she’d practically carried her home on more than one occasion during their time together.

  Eager to put the previous awkwardness behind them, Jacqueline grinned and winked at her. “Just one shot.”

  “I’ve heard that before.” Casey took the shot Kendra offered. She licked the back of her hand at the base of her thumb and said, “Salt me.”

  Jacqueline watched as Kendra shook salt onto that spot, unable to pull her eyes away even as Casey swiped her tongue over her skin and tossed back the shot. She licked her own hand and did the same. As the numbing warmth spread through her chest, she thought Casey might have been right that this wasn’t a good idea.

  *

  Casey fiddled with her poker chips, separating them into two small towers, then shuffling them back together, only to do it all over again. She hadn’t played poker in years, but her fingers seemed to remember the motions ingrained through hours spent sitting at a table with most of the women around her now. In fact, several of them had gone on weekend trips to Tunica and one big vacation to Las Vegas together. The group had changed some over the years, but Kendra was very good at keeping her friends in her life—not everyone did that.

  Casey’s own social group had changed with her lifestyle. When
Sean was younger, she’d gravitated toward parents with children the same age. But Kendra had never let her drift away completely, even when she’d split with Jacqueline. Some of their mutual friends had seemed to think they had to choose sides. Kendra had known Jacqueline first and had roomed with her in college, so Casey wouldn’t have been surprised to lose her. Yet over the years, Kendra had remained impressively neutral no matter how Casey and Jacqueline related to each other.

  Casey continued to toy with her chips, waiting her turn to bet on the two sevens she’d been dealt. She glanced up and caught Jacqueline watching her hand. Her fingers slipped, throwing the chips off balance, but she recovered in time to keep them from toppling. Watching Jacqueline’s face, she continued to manipulate them. She lifted one off the top of the pile. They were actually good chips, casino-quality, nice clay-weight and feel, not like the cheap plastic ones they used to play with. She flipped it across the back of her knuckles and pulled it back into her palm. Jacqueline’s eyes changed, and even from across the table Casey recognized the build-up of arousal in them. She used to love witnessing the slow burn of Jacqueline’s reaction almost as much as the times when Jacqueline flashed-over, hot and fast.

  When the two players before Casey folded, she placed a stack of chips in front of her, indicating a moderate bet. Kendra folded, as did the woman to her right. Jacqueline and three other players called her, staying in the hand. Mabel counted out three cards in a neat stack, then turned it faceup on the table. She slid the cards out side by side, revealing all three. Casey liked to watch a good dealer work, finding beauty in the fluidity of the motions. She’d study the details of their hands—manicures and nail color, rings, scars—and try to imagine the stories behind them.

  The cards—a queen, a ten, and a seven—included two hearts and a diamond. When her turn came, Casey pushed forward another bet on her three-of-a-kind, and two more players folded. The next card, the nine of clubs, didn’t change Casey’s hand, but it did put a straight draw on the board. There were now several other combinations of cards that could beat her sevens. By the time the dealer turned the last card, the four of hearts, only Casey and Jacqueline remained. Careful of both the straight and flush draws now on the board, Casey checked her hand, putting the play in Jacqueline’s hands.