“No, thanks. I’m good.” Brittany sat on the couch mostly to relieve her shaky knees.
Erika joined her on the couch and leaned on her.
“Do you think you’ll be hungry soon?” Brittany asked as she slid her arm around her.
“Probably. What do you have in mind?”
“I’ve got some homemade lasagna in my refrigerator, if you’re interested.”
“That sounds great,” Erika said. “I’ll just change and we can go.”
Brittany missed her as soon as she left the couch. What would it be like when she left for good?
“Homemade lasagna. Did you make it?” Erika took her hand as they walked.
“I did. I like cooking. I cook a lot in the fall to fill the freezer for the winter. I took it out this morning before I left hoping you were a lasagna fan.”
Erika stopped walking and tugged her off the path. “Look.” She pointed to the seagulls soaring in circles above the water. Their calls grew louder as they passed close to the shore and quieted while they ascended toward the clouds. A gentle breeze rustled the young spring leaves on the water’s edge and brought the scent of the water as the swells washed onto the shoreline. Erika wound her arm around her waist and pulled her close for a few minutes before she spoke. “This is a beautiful spot.”
“It’s one of my favorites.” Brittany gently squeezed her hand. “You’ve probably seen the shores of Greece. I bet this doesn’t really compare.”
“I have. And Ireland, and Italy, and Australia, and many others, but this shore has become my favorite.” Erika looked wistful as she gazed over the water.
Brittany waited for her to say more, but she remained quiet. “Of all the world’s shorelines and coasts you’ve seen, why is this one your favorite?”
She smiled and raised their joined hands to kiss her fingers. “Because you’re here with me.”
Chapter Thirty-four
Erika watched Brit slide the lasagna pan into the oven, then retrieve a large plastic salad bowl and fill it with greens from the refrigerator. She was as efficient in the kitchen as anyone she’d ever seen. “You’re pretty good at that.” She sipped her wine and winked.
“I’ve been cooking since I was a kid. Mom and Dad always worked, so I started dinner nearly every day.”
“I remember. It was pretty cool, so I asked my mom if I could start doing that, and she freaked out. She said I couldn’t take the chance of hurting myself.” Erika froze. “Oh, God, I’m sorry, Brit. I didn’t think before I spoke.” She set her glass down and wrapped her arms around her.
“It’s okay. I got over being sensitive about it long ago.”
She picked up her glass and took a drink, considering her next words. “I never did find out what happened to you. Do you mind telling me?”
“No, I don’t mind. The lasagna’s done. Shall we talk while we eat?” Brit set the food on the table.
Erika filled water glasses hoping the heavy topic wouldn’t be disturbing dinner conversation.
Brit took a bite of food and swallowed before speaking. “My mom worked late on Fridays at the diner, so I was starting dinner. I had a pot of water boiling, and I reached for the spaghetti on the top cupboard. I couldn’t reach them, so I pulled one of our wooden kitchen chairs over to the stove and stood on it. It just happened to be the one with the wobbly leg, so it tipped when I reached the box of spaghetti. I slid off, and the box caught the pot handle as I fell.” Brit stopped speaking, and a look of fear passed over her face. She took a few bites of food and sat quietly for a moment before continuing. “It dumped on me, and I lay on the floor going in and out of consciousness for about an hour before my mom got home. It’s funny, well, not funny, but my mom always told me to remember to put a little oil in the water so it wouldn’t boil over. It sure didn’t keep it from tipping over. The doctor said the oil was probably the reason I sustained third degree burns.” She took a bite of food with a trembling hand.
Erika couldn’t imagine the pain and fear she must have experienced. “It must’ve been awful. I’m so sorry that happened to you.” She reached to hold Brit’s hand.
“Thanks. I spent three months in the burn unit. You’ve seen what that’s like, and it took another three months of healing and learning to care for my scarring on a daily basis at home. I missed about six months of school.”
“I remember when you got back.” She tensed with guilt. “And then we compounded your pain with our taunting and teasing.” She released Brit’s hand.
She bent her head and Brit stepped behind her chair and wrapped her arms around her. “That’s all in the past. It’s a new day and we have a lot to be grateful for.”
Her breath was warm against her ear and she quaked with desire. She placed her hands over Brit’s but resisted repositioning them to her breasts. Brit had just relived a traumatic event in her life, and she didn’t want to take advantage of her vulnerability. Brit hesitated before she returned to her seat.
“This was a wonderful day.” Erika settled shoulder to shoulder with Brit on the couch after they’d cleaned the dinner dishes.
“It was. I’m glad you were here to share an important part of my life.” Brit snuggled into her side when she put her arm around her. “My visits to the burn unit help me continue to heal emotionally and remind me to maintain an attitude of gratitude. Those kids remember the terror of whatever happened to them. Then, they have to go through the pain of being torn away from their family. The critical ones see the walls of plastic surrounding them as their future. They don’t understand about a sterile healing environment. All they know is that they’re scared, in pain, and trapped. They believe they’ll be there forever, and I suspect the younger ones feel as if they’re being punished for causing what happened to them. Their days and nights blend together, and if it weren’t for the nurses checking on them, they’d believe they were alone in the world. And the flashbacks linger for a long time.” Brit wiped away tears with her hand. “I like to think when I visit and they hear what happened to me, it helps them know there will be an end to their suffering. They’ll get out of there eventually, grow up, and have a life worth living. Does that make sense?”
Erika wiped tears from her own eyes before attempting to answer. “It makes a lot of sense. Thank you for sharing all that with me.” She kissed her forehead and pulled her close. The story Brit relayed was probably her own, and Erika’s tears rose again when she pictured young Brit trapped inside a sterile plastic world.
“How about a movie?” Brittany rose from the couch and opened a cabinet lined with several DVDs. “I’ve got comedies, romance, and probably every movie Meryl Streep is in.”
Erika looked at her watch, surprised to see how late it was. “It’s almost eleven o’clock. I should go.” She stood to stretch.
Brit rested her hands on her hips. “I have a new T-shirt you can use to sleep in.”
Erika noticed the slight quiver of Brit’s fingers, and her shy smile made up her mind. “Well, it is late, and it’s a long walk back to the hotel.”
Brit took her hand and led her to the bedroom. “You know where the bathroom is, and I have a pair of shorts that will probably fit you.” She set a pair of jersey shorts and her new T-shirt on the bed. “Oh. I sleep on the left side of the bed. Are you okay with that?” She fidgeted with her hands while she looked away.
“It’s fine, sweetheart. Do you have an extra toothbrush?”
Brit opened a closet and retrieved a towel, washcloth, and toothbrush with a tiny sample tube of toothpaste. “Let me know if you need anything else.” She handed her the pile.
Erika slid into bed after her shower. Brit faced away from her and breathed softly. She suppressed her stirring desire. Brit probably needed to feel safe and cared about, not lusted over. She could wait and see what feelings developed between them. If there was time before she had to leave. She nestled against her back and enveloped her with one arm. A feeling of fierce protectiveness was the last thing she remembered as sleep
overtook her.
* * *
Erika woke to the scent of bacon. She sat up confused until memories of last night and Brit’s disclosure of her accident washed over her. She reached for Brit but the sheets on Brit’s side of the bed were cold. She rose and stretched before heading toward the smell of breakfast.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Brit smiled and flipped the pieces of bacon. “Are scrambled eggs and bacon okay?”
“Are you kidding? It sounds wonderful and smells even better.” She spotted the full coffeepot and poured herself a cup. “What time do you have to work today?”
“I’m going in to help George clean stalls in about an hour. I’ll be done for the day after that unless Ben calls me in for something. You want to go back into town for more shopping later?”
“You say shopping, and I’m there.” She grinned, set her coffee cup on the table, and wrapped her arms around Brit from behind. “You doing all right this morning?”
Brit turned in her arms and kissed her lightly. “I am. Thank you for listening last night. I hadn’t told anyone about that day except my therapist, since it happened.” She shivered.
“I hope it helped to talk about it. I’m grateful you trusted me enough to tell me.” She stepped away and sat at the table. “Did I hear bacon and eggs?”
They finished eating and Erika cleared the table and washed the dishes while Brit got ready for work. She sat on the couch to finish her coffee.
“Before I leave, I have something for you.” Brit handed her a key on a Mackinac Island key chain. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, or go and come back. I should be done by one o’clock.” She kissed her quickly and left.
Erika leaned back on the couch to assess her feelings. She’d never had anyone serious in her life. Never anyone who’d given her a key to her home. She smiled and reveled in the feeling.
Chapter Thirty-five
“Good morning.” Brittany grabbed a broom and began to sweep the barn floor where George was working.
“Good morning.” He scooped one more shovel full before he stopped to turn toward her. “Did you have a nice day off yesterday?”
“I did. It was another volunteer day at the burn clinic.” She leaned on her broom. “How’s your wife doing?”
“Good. She’s getting anxious about our daughter heading to college this fall. Empty nest syndrome I think they call it.” He mimicked her stance by leaning on his shovel.
“How long have you two been married?”
George looked thoughtful. “It’ll be twenty years in August.” He smiled. “I picked a good one with her.”
“How’d you know, George? That she was the one.”
“That’s the question of the ages, my friend. All I can tell you is from the very beginning we fit. We laughed together, enjoyed the same music and movies, and boy can she cook.” He grinned and tipped his head. “You all right?”
“I’m fine. A little tired from my day off. Let’s get these stables done.” She began to sweep in earnest and considered George’s words. He hadn’t asked why she wanted to know about his wife, and she was unsure herself. Erika’s smile, tender touches, and her kisses caused stirring in a place she was pretty sure had been reserved for Amy years ago. She feared their time together might be ending soon and guilt rose like bile in her throat when she hoped Peter didn’t find work for her. It would mean her life as Erika James was over, but she feared it would mean the death of Amy as well. They were clearly intertwined, and it wasn’t fair of her to want to deny something so integral to who Erika was. But she couldn’t sweep away her own feelings, either. This relationship stuff was incredibly complicated. She cleaned the last stall and said good-bye to George before leaving.
She’d given Erika a key to her apartment with hopes she’d be there when she got home. That anticipation was a new feeling for her, and she wished she knew what it meant. She decided to follow her old standby and take things a day at a time.
Brittany followed the path to her apartment without giving in to her desire to swing by Erika’s hotel room to see if she was there. She hoped to find her at home. She pulled her keys out of her pocket as she got to the door but put them away and opened the door. Erika put her arms around her and kissed her. Brittany pulled her closer and caressed the firm muscles of her back. The feel of her breasts pressed against hers sent shivers of longing to her core. She decided to enjoy having Erika in her arms and let her take the lead as to where things went. A cold empty space took over when Erika pushed out of her arms. “I sure like coming home to you.” Brittany kissed her.
Erika took her hand and guided them to the couch. “Are you done for the day?”
“Yep. I’m all yours.”
“If you haven’t eaten, maybe we could go to the Gate House for lunch on our way to town.” Erika looked as if she was struggling to hold back her excitement.
“It sounds good, but let me take a shower and wash the horse smell off before we go.” She kissed her quickly and retreated to the bathroom.
She showered and put on clean clothes, then stood before the bathroom mirror. She applied sunscreen and hesitated before applying her makeup. Erika had spent the night in her bed and called her sweetheart. She’d seen her without makeup. She studied her face and tried to see what Erika had. The years had dulled the shock and pain of seeing her own deformity, but she ought to feel exposed and self-conscious that Erika had seen it, but she didn’t. Somehow, Erika had gained her trust, and Brittany liked it. She finished quickly and returned to the living room where Erika lay stretched out on the couch reading a magazine.
She stood for a minute, overwhelmed by a sense of peace. As if this were all planned. Erika looked content, and she enjoyed the view for a moment.
“I’m ready when you are.” Erika grinned when she caught Brittany staring at her.
They left and headed toward the restaurant.
Brittany wasn’t surprised at the crowds in the Gate House. Memorial Day was close and it meant more visitors arriving to enjoy the island. They took seats at a table for two and ordered lunch.
“You didn’t hear from Peter this morning, did you?” Brittany asked.
“No. I don’t expect to. We left it that I’d call him with my decision. I’ll give him a call Monday.”
Erika looked sad so Brittany dropped the subject.
“Are you doing okay today? You relived some painful memories yesterday.” Erika stroked her hand from across the table.
“I am. I think it does me good to remember. It happened and it changed me forever, but I’ve also healed, grown, and made a life for myself. You being here has helped, too.”
“I’m not sure how I helped, but I’m glad you think so.”
“I never thought I’d see you again, and I carried the pain and resentment of your betrayal inside for years. Your apology and explanation has helped.”
Erika looked like she was going to speak but remained quiet.
“I didn’t ask you if you slept okay last night.”
“Like a baby.” Erika grinned.
“Good. I sure conked out.” She wondered what might have happened between them if she hadn’t.
They finished their meal and she took Erika’s hand as they ambled past the shops.
Erika pulled her into the first store they passed. “What do you think?” Erika held up the fifth sweatshirt for her opinion.
“I like it.” Brittany smiled and gave her a thumbs-up. She enjoyed seeing Erika’s enthusiasm. She looked happy and it surprised her how important Erika’s happiness had become to her. She people watched while she waited for Erika to make her decision. She scrutinized the other shoppers and passersby. Nobody paid attention to a scar faced woman shopping with a beautiful fashion model. Had they all changed or was it her perception?
She chuckled when Erika took her arm and led her out of the store wearing her new sweatshirt. “You might be a bit warm in that.”
“It’ll be okay for the walk to the hotel. I like it.”
She ran her hands up and down the sleeves. “It feels great.”
“Excuse me! Hello. Are you Erika James?” A grinning, heavyset woman rushed toward them waving a magazine over her head. “Please could I have your autograph?” She glanced at Brittany and continued to try to get Erika’s attention.
Erika turned toward the woman and smiled. “Of course.” She signed the frayed magazine and chatted with the woman.
Brittany stepped into a nearby store and watched the exchange. A small part of her wished she’d introduced her. But as who? This is my friend whom I’ve kissed several times but will be leaving when I go back to New York. Erika was glowing as she engaged her fan. She smiled and listened to the woman as if she were the most important person in the world. Erika was really good at connecting with people. So unlike her.
“Sorry for the interruption,” Erika said as she stepped into the store and looked around.
“No problem.” Brittany forced a smile. “More shopping or shall we head back?”
“I’m ready to go back to the hotel.”
Brittany noted a melancholy look in Erika’s eyes as she walked her to her hotel room. She had a feeling Erika needed some time on her own, and she knew she did. She snaked her arm around her waist and pulled her close. “I’ll see you later for dinner.” She released her and headed home.
Chapter Thirty-six
Erika’s thoughts spun like a top when she returned to her hotel room. Brit had given her a key to her home. Her sanctuary. That meant a lot to her, and she wanted to be worthy of her trust. Brit hadn’t asked her to move in with her, obviously it was too soon for that, but was that what she expected at some point? She needed to decide about her future. The fan who’d recognized her verified she was still popular and a huge part of her was convinced Peter could find her work if he tried harder, but she needed to be realistic. He’d done his best, and twenty years was a good long career for a fashion model. She plopped into a parlor chair and gazed out the window. She hated to consider Naturalé’s offer. She didn’t want to do a nude spread now, and she never wanted to before. But if could lead to more work maybe she ought to try it. She hated this back and forth uncertainty.
Through Love's Eyes Page 14
