Divine Solace: 8 (44 page)

“Of course. Laura Smith’s niece had her bridal shower there.
Laura told me it was a delightful place. I’ll have to go. Maybe Noah will bring
me one day.”

“We’d be delighted to have you.”

“Good. I’ll be coming. And I’m Dot, not ma’am. There’s wine,
bourbon and some fruity cocktail makings inside. Noah, make us ladies a drink.
Mona’s lying down watching the news right now. I have no idea why, because she
and I are going to be long dead before anything happening in the world affects
us, but she thinks by watching it she can control things. Ask her what she
wants, and then bring us ours.”

“You’re not supposed to have alcohol with your
prescriptions.”

She bumped his leg with her closed fist. “I’m eighty-four
years old. If I want to have a pretty strawberry daiquiri with a scoop of ice
cream, then that’s what I’ll be having. I don’t think St. Peter’s told a single
person they can’t get into heaven because they didn’t follow their doctor’s
advice. Else it’d be as empty up there as a church on discount day at the
casino.”

Gen choked on a laugh. Noah rolled his eyes, but he bent,
pressed his cheek to hers, winning a
tsk
and a light swat. “Don’t mess
up my hair. I just had it done this morning.”

Noah straightened, keeping a hand on her shoulder. “What can
I get you?” he asked Gen and Lyda.

“One of those fruity drinks sounds good,” Gen said.

“A dry white,” Lyda said. “Toss a cherry into it if you have
one.”

“We don’t go anywhere without maraschinos,” Dorothy assured
her. As Noah disappeared into the house she looked over her shoulder at him,
then glanced back at the two women. Gen had watched him leave as well, though
for different reasons. Too late, she realized she shouldn’t be ogling Dorothy’s
grandson, but the woman gave her an amused look. “He’s always been a looker,
coming and going. When he takes me to see my friends at the senior center, I
have to beat those horny old women off him with a cane. Some of them read those
cougar romances and get ideas. And I know my grandson. He’d worry about hurting
the feelings of Imelda Marcos.” She squinted. “I bet neither of you have any
idea who that is.”

Gen didn’t but Lyda did, obviously better-educated on
political history. Gen shifted uncomfortably, winning a curious look from her
Mistress, but Dorothy fortunately distracted them with two questions. “So which
of you is with him? Or hoping to be?”

Given Lyda’s moment of trepidation at the bridge, Gen was
ready to jump in with a vague but diplomatic answer. She should have known
their Mistress was at her best in the face of a challenge. Lyda met Dot’s gaze.
“The way I answer that depends on how much you know about your grandson,
regardless of what he thinks you know.”

Gen managed not to let her jaw drop. Dorothy gave Lyda an
assessing look. “I know enough to know you’re in charge.” Her gaze went to Gen.
“Of both of them, her and my grandson?”

“As long as they’re willing to let me be in charge. That’s
the way it works. At least, that’s what I’m trying to teach him. That it’s all
his choice.”

Dorothy was silent for a moment. “How’s that going?”

“Better some days. Worse on others. I’m figuring him out,
enough to know some things might not get figured out.”

“Yes.” Dot gave a brittle smile. “I don’t know how much of
that came from nature versus nurture. I do know there was a time I wanted to
kill his father, and my stupid daughter with him. Anyone who spends any time
with that boy can feel how special he is, how generous his heart.”

Gen nodded without even having to think about it. Dot’s gaze
slid to her, the smile getting a little easier, though it was tinged with the
past. “His father crushed him, you know. He could have just left it at ‘I can’t
accept your lifestyle and get out’, but oh no, that wasn’t enough. Art went
after him with everything. Told a seventeen-year-old boy someone should cut off
his privates because Noah was obviously more of a sniveling woman than a real
man. I expect he was trying to shame Noah into being what he wanted him to be.”

The hardening of Lyda’s expression told Gen she hadn’t heard
those specifics. Anger flooded her as well. Seeing it in their faces, Dot
nodded, her jaw firming.

“Any other man would have simply walked out, not let his
father keep hammering at him like that, but Noah doesn’t leave a conversation
until he’s excused. Especially from someone he deems as being in authority, no
matter how that person is treating him. So he just sat there, my daughter on
the sidelines, while Art raged at him. And when Noah didn’t respond, he started
hitting him, trying to get him to act like a man. Noah never raised a hand in
his own defense, not even to ward him off.” She met Lyda’s gaze. “You know some
of that.”

Lyda shook her head. “Not those details. I knew his father
rejected him.”

“That bastard.” Dorothy’s eyes went cold as ice. “Noah took
care of me when I broke my hip. Lifted this fat body of mine more times than I
could count, handled everything around the house. Boy’s lean, but strong as an
ox. And most don’t know this, but he can fight. He has a rage button when you
hit it, and while he’ll never turn his fists on a living thing, I’ve seen him
take it out with an axe and firewood, or punch a bag I put in the backyard for
him for just that purpose. From the way he hit it, I knew somewhere along the
way, someone taught him how to fight. He could have put Art on his ass at any
time, but in Noah’s mind, that’s not what being a man’s about.”

“It’s about taking care of the one who loves you,” Lyda said
quietly.

“Exactly.” Dorothy inclined her head. “So however long you
decide to be with him, I hope you’ll remember what a treasure he is.”

She didn’t assume forever. Apparently his grandmother was a
realist about her grandson and knew his relationships didn’t last. When
footsteps heralded Noah’s return, Dorothy’s face smoothed out. She gave Gen a
wink, Lyda another direct look. “I’m blunt and up front, because I could die in
my sleep. I don’t believe in putting off what needs to be said. I also don’t
need a lot of time to see the forest for the trees. You two are the first he’s
ever brought to meet me, so I know you’re important. Pivotal.”

After that astounding statement, which had Gen and Lyda
exchanging a look, Dot tilted her head, raised her voice. “Did you put one of
those little umbrellas in it?”

“Of course I did. It’s like a fully stocked tiki bar in
there.” Noah emerged from the house. Flipping a tray from beneath the arm of
her wheelchair, he tightened it into position, putting the drink where she
could lean forward and sip through the straw. “I gave Mona her mojito. And a
cup of Cheese Nips.” When he grimaced, Dorothy bumped his hip with her gnarled
fist.

“It’s no different at the end than it is at the beginning.
You’re back to diapers, and your taste buds want what’s good, not the damn food
pyramid. Why don’t I have any Cheese Nips? And a Twinkie. The yellow kind, not
the chocolate.”

“Good God,” he said. Noah handed Lyda’s wine to her, the red
cherry a cheerful accent to the white-gold color. He looked at Gen. “I’m
bringing yours next.”

“I wouldn’t mind a handful of Cheese Nips if there’s enough
to go around. Have to keep myself soft, you know.”

His eyes sparked humor at her, and Lyda tugged her hair.
“Ow,” Gen admonished. Dorothy gazed at them as Noah went back inside.

“I want to like you two,” she decided. “I hope you won’t
give me reasons not to.”

“I wouldn’t hurt Noah for the world,” Gen said. If Dot and
Lyda were going to be blunt, she was going to join the party. Marguerite wasn’t
one to beat around the bush, after all, and—Lord in heaven—Chloe mowed right
through. When Dot did come to Tea Leaves, she and the irrepressible girl would
be fast friends in a heartbeat.

“You haven’t been together long enough to know for certain,
no matter what you tell me, but do you think you’re in love with him?”

Those Cheese Nips hadn’t taken very long. About the time Dot
asked the question, Noah returned with two snack cups of the bright orange
crackers and a Twinkie in hand, as well as Gen’s drink. He’d given her a paper
umbrella too. As he put Dot’s snacks on her tray, he shot Gen a look that told
her he was accustomed to his grandmother’s lack of social restraint and he’d
rescue her with a tactful comment if necessary. His mouth was opening, probably
to do just that.

“Yes,” she said. “I am.”

Those expressive eyes locked onto her face. She hadn’t
planned on saying it here, like this, but it had come out, just like that. What
concerned her wasn’t the environment, however, but his transfixed reaction. Had
no one ever told him…

Oh God. No one ever had.

Lyda had said no one had ever fallen in love with Noah. Gen
had assumed that meant there’d been those who’d said it to him but, like her
first two husbands, they hadn’t really known what that meant. Or lived up to
what it was supposed to mean. Apparently she was the first person who’d ever
said it, outside of family.

Dorothy touched him gently. “She’s waiting for her drink,
boy.”

He started as if out of a sleep. Gen took the glass from
him, along with the Cheese Nips. Regardless of their audience, she touched his
face. She gave him a searching look. “It’s okay,” she mouthed, because his body
blocked her from Dot. Lyda touched his other arm. He looked between them.

“Sit down next to your grandmother,” Lyda said in a quiet,
firm tone.

The command seemed to knock him back on his axis, but as he
sank down on the ramp next to Dot, his gaze remained on Gen, his thoughts
obviously a confused snarl. Dot laid a deformed hand on his shoulder, stroked
the hair at his temple.

“You keep hanging out with them,” she said. “I think they’re
pretty good for you.”

* * * * *

They left Dorothy with plans to meet the following night for
the walk Noah had warned them about. As they walked down the hill, Noah was
quiet. So was Gen.

His reaction to her declaration had shifted things off the
third member of their relationship, such that Lyda had never been required to
answer the same question. But Lyda kept her own counsel on emotions that
strong, and wasn’t likely to be called out on them until she was good and
ready. Gen wasn’t sure if Lyda was the type of person who would say it at all.
If she felt it, she’d probably express it a different way.

Would she be the type to show a permanent commitment with a
collar? The way he’d reacted to Gen saying she was in love with him made her
wonder if a gesture like that from Lyda might help resolve some of Noah’s
“choice” issues. Lyda had made it clear she preferred action to words, and that
probably applied to symbols as well. But Noah might be worth a different
strategy, right? Or Gen could be using pop psychology on a deeply rooted
psychosis, a recipe for disaster.

“Chairlift,” Lyda said, pointing at it. “We’ll have dinner
afterward.”

Gen tuned in to the distant contraption. Wires strung
between towering poles funneled the colorful chairs up and down the mountain
backdrop for the town. When they’d been sitting with Dorothy, they’d watched
the continuous loop, people carried up to the overlook and down again.

“Um…I’m not great with heights.”

“You’ll be with us, rabbit,” Lyda said, unconcerned. “You’ll
be fine.”

“So when the cable snaps, you’ll use your super-Domme powers
to fly us out of harm’s way. Or Noah will parasail us safely to the ground with
his shirt.”

“Absolutely,” Lyda responded. “Don’t be such a girl.”

“I am a girl. So are you.”

“Thank God,” Noah said. Gen glanced his way. It was his
first attempt at levity since they’d left Dot’s. Meeting Lyda’s gaze, Gen saw
the veiled message there.
We need to loosen him up a little.

Fine. But a chairlift? She’d said she was in love with him.
She wasn’t sure if she was
that
in love with him.

“I’ll do it if you both hold my hand the whole way. That
includes you,” she said to Lyda. “No playing the Domme card.”

“Pussy.”

“Yeah, I have one. You seem to like it.”

Noah snorted. Lyda narrowed her eyes, though Gen saw her
lips quiver. “Watch yourself. That cable isn’t the only thing that can snap on
your ass.”

They returned to their cottage, retrieved the car and drove
down the hill, working through the main strip traffic to get to a parking area
for the ride, which Noah pointed out was called Sky Lift. Gen found she
preferred the generic term of chairlift, since “Sky Lift” only emphasized she
was leaving solid earth to ride it.

After they paid for their ride, they hit another snag. “Only
two adults per chair,” the operator said, with apologetic courtesy.

Standing at the base, staring up the side of the mountain,
Gen was all for using that as her escape card, letting Lyda and Noah go without
her. She’d provide moral support with her feet on the ground. Lyda slid her arm
through Noah’s. “Can’t you tell he’s our child? His ass, superior though it is,
probably isn’t wider than a twelve-year-old’s.”

The operator gave a nervous chuckle, as flustered by Lyda’s
beauty as anything else with testosterone, but shook his head. “As much as I’d
like to let you all go up all together, logistically it doesn’t work. I can put
one of you in the chair right ahead or behind, though. Whichever you prefer.”

“All right,” Lyda said. “The two of them will go up in one.”

“You promised,” Gen said. It was irrational, since she
understood what the operator was saying, but she truly was afraid of heights.
What she’d been able to joke about on the walk to the cottage was no longer
amusing as she looked up the steep reality of the mountain, the tiny size of
the chairlift all the way at the top. The idea of getting in one of the chairs
without Lyda’s commanding presence was a deal-breaker.