Authors: Linda Hill
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Suspense, #Contemporary, #Lesbians, #Coming Out, #Family, #Gay, #Love
When she didn’t reply after several seconds, I opened one eye and peered at her suspiciously. She wasn’t usually so quiet.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Sara called.” I returned her steady stare and then, suddenly weary, slowly lifted myself from her shoulder. “She wants you to call her.” I took the small piece of paper from Susan’s outstretched hand and stared at the phone number scribbled there. I waited for my heart to race, but instead felt nothing.
“Did you talk to her?”
“Briefly.”
I raised an eyebrow and she squirmed a little.
“She sounded uncomfortable, and I was probably a little bitchy.”
A small smile touched my lips as I imagined the conversation.
“I talked to her today,” I whispered. “Well, actually, I think I said ‘hi,’ and that’s about all.” Briefly, I told her what had happened earlier.
We were quiet for a few moments while I looked at the phone number again. Why was I so reluctant? Why wasn’t I racing to the phone? I shook my head and dropped the piece of paper to the coffee table.
“Are you going to call her?”
I squinted at Susan and shook my head. “I don’t think so.” She stared at me for a moment, then nodded, accepting my decision without question. She reached out and slipped an arm around my shoulders. I turned and lifted my legs to the table, snuggling into her arms as I turned my attention to the television. “How’s Pam?” I asked.
“Shitty,” she replied. “We never get along any more.” I didn’t bother contradicting her.
“Leslie?”
“Hm?”
“Have you ever thought that maybe you and I should be together?”
The meteorologist was standing in the middle of the United States. “Yeah,” I admitted, “more than once.” I focused on the weather forecaster as he raved about the blizzard that was currently over the Midwest, and expected to dump up to two feet of snow in Wisconsin before continuing east. My mind drifted back to the snowstorm in Chicago, the memory of Sara laughing as a snowball splattered across my face.
I remembered chasing her down the hall, wanting to kiss her even then.
My eyes dropped to the small white sheet of paper that teased me, daring me to pick it up. I sighed deeply and reached over to take Susan’s hand.
As promised, the Midwest was completely snowed under by morning. Local and national news agencies were predicting a similar fate for Boston before the day was over. Snow had already begun falling and was expected to continue all day. I toyed with the idea of not going to work at all. The traffic reports indicated that most commuters were doing just that, and I knew that most offices would be closing early. I compromised by pulling on a pair of worn-out jeans and an oversize sweater, thinking almost everyone would probably do the same.
I opted for public transportation that morning, shivering in the thick, heavy air that lay across the city. My attitude about work was beginning to scare me. It was so unlike me not to be excited about what I was doing.
Downtown Boston felt eerily like a ghost town. Perhaps I hadn’t taken the storm warnings seriously enough. My office building was equally empty, so I puttered around in the computer room while coffee perked in the cafeteria. A full steaming cup finally in hand, I headed to my office and perched myself near the windowsill, wishing that I had brought Sara’s phone number with me. My mind was clearer now, and I felt better prepared to talk to her. I knew why I was afraid to call. I was afraid to hear the rejection from her lips. Having her so far away had helped to dull the pain. It was easier simply to know it was over without ever hearing it said. I sat staring out the window, daydreaming about calling her, wishing I knew what to do about my career and my future, wondering if I could gather the courage to tell Dennis that I needed a break too.
By ten-thirty, just as the snow began piling up in earnest on the street below, I heard rumblings down the corridor. Dennis, no doubt. Nothing would keep that man from a day’s work. I pulled myself together and decided to tell him I needed a change.
I walked down the hallway, stopping just outside Dennis’s office and peeking around the corner. He was sitting at his desk, his back toward me. I leaned against the tiled wall, gathering my courage and going over in my mind what I would say to him.
More sounds down the hallway. Someone else had decided to brave the weather. Odd sounds, like someone tossing books into an empty box. The hair on my neck began to rise as I pushed myself away from the wall and padded down the hall toward the sounds. Sara’s office. The noise was definitely coming from there.
Maybe Kenny had come back and was up to no good. I pulled myself up with that thought in mind, ready to pounce if it were him. I sneaked around the open door and stood in the doorway.
It took a moment for her image to sink in. Sara was there, her narrow back toward me as she lifted books from the bookshelf on the far wall and dumped them without ceremony into an open box. I placed a hand on the doorjamb to steady myself, my head and fingertips beginning to tingle as I became overwhelmed with anxiety. Her hair was longer, the curls made softer by its weight.
It was loosely tied back with a single ribbon and reached all the way down between her shoulder blades. She was thinner than I’d remembered, her tight jeans easily two sizes smaller than my own. She wore a dark blue sweater, its sleeves pushed up over her forearms.
Mesmerized, I watched her clear two entire shelves before I found my voice.
“Hey.” She jumped as the word left my lips, whirling quickly, instantly on the defense. I watched closely as recognition crossed her features, her face softening as a slow, tentative smile found her lips.
“Hi.” The single word was like a caress, turning my knees to jelly.
“You look good.”
What a stupid thing to say.
“Thanks.” She dropped the book she’d been holding and leaned against her desk, fingers playing absently with a pen. Her eyes roved quickly across my body. “You look tired.”
Ouch.
My smile was lame as I struggled for words. “What are you doing here?” I winced, knowing how cold my words sounded.
“I mean, the storm. I thought you were stranded.” Sara practically shuddered. “As soon as I realized how bad it was going to be, I headed for the airport. I was going stir-crazy.” She gave me an old knowing look. “You know how it gets. . .” The image of me chasing her down the hallway of the hotel in Chicago swam in my mind. Then another image replaced it.
Sara in a hotel room, in bed with a man. Too late, I realized by the frown that tugged between her brows that I was grimacing.
“Did Susan tell you I called?”
Sheepishly, I nodded.
“You didn’t call back, did you?” She actually looked hurt. “I left a message and my flight number at the front desk for you.” I was incredulous. I suppose she had expected me to jump up as soon as she called and meet her at the airport. My chin lifted involuntarily as I shrugged. “I figured that waiting a few hours for me to call was nothing compared to the two months I waited to hear from you.” It felt good to say the words, even though I regretted each one as they left my mouth.
Her lips were pursed together in a straight line.
“I suppose I deserve that.” She looked defeated. “I’m sorry. I know I should have called you a long time ago.”
“Oh? To tell me what? About the guy you’re sleeping with?” My voice was quiet, mocking. “That’s old news. It’s all I’ve heard about for a month now.” I was trying to hurt her, all the while praying she would deny the accusations. She returned my stare steadily, without blinking.
Deny it! Deny it!
My heart sank. The rumors had been true after all.
“Kenny.” She sounded resigned. She shook her head slowly, then met my gaze squarely. “This isn’t quite going the way that I’d planned.” She stepped over a box and made her way toward me. “We need to talk.”
My back stiffened. I’d heard enough. Her lack of denial spoke volumes.
“Hey! You found her!” Dennis was standing behind me, bellowing over my shoulder before squeezing into the doorway beside me. “Did she tell you? I convinced her to take a leave of absence and think it over instead of resigning.” My eyes swept the room, taking in the boxes filled with Sara’s personal belongings. Who did he think he was kidding?
This didn’t look like a temporary move to me. My eyes focused again on Sara, who was following me with her eyes and biting her tongue. Dennis was saying that he needed to talk to her, and I excused myself, backing out of the office and tearing my eyes away from hers.
After three steps, my temples began throbbing violently, and I rubbed them as I made my way down the hall to my office.
Without a second thought, I grabbed my ski jacket and headed outside.
The snow plows were focused on the main streets downtown, and the sidewalks remained untouched. Snow clung to my ankles as I trudged up one street and then the next with no destination in mind. I was filled with anger and frustration. All the feelings I had carefully tucked away were flooding back.
Unresolved anger bubbled in my throat. Snow flakes whipped around me and tiny pellets of ice stung my face as I stumbled through the silent city.
The buildings along the wharf beckoned me until I found myself at ocean’s edge, watching the whitecaps crash against the moorings. The wind whipped and swirled the snow into deep drifts and caused the bells on the tethered ships to clank in protest.
As I watched the ocean slapping against the docks, my thoughts returned to Sara.
It’s over. Let it go. Just let it go.
I shivered and leaned over the railing just enough to watch the breakers directly below.
“I’ve been selfish.” Sara’s voice reached my ears over the howling wind. Without turning, I could feel her presence beside me. My jaw stayed carefully clamped shut.
“I know that you’re angry. You have every right to be.” I didn’t know how to reply, and I didn’t trust myself to look at her.
“Say something, Leslie.” She sounded frightened. “Yell at me. Please. Get it over with.”
I looked out over the ocean, noting that the snow was too thick to see Logan Airport across the bay. I couldn’t feel the anger anymore and I told her so. “It’s all gone.” I stole a brief glance at her, noting the way the wind whipped strands of hair across her face.
I knew she was watching me, expecting more. But I had nothing left to say. I shivered again and snuggled deeper into my coat.
“I need to explain,” she began.
“No. You don’t.” I didn’t want to hear the words. The excuses.
The justification. But she didn’t listen.
“I’ve been so caught up in myself, doing what I thought I had to do.” Her words were stilted, halting. “I didn’t even think about what this might be doing to you.”
How could she be so unfeeling? Incredulous, I finally turned to face her. “You didn’t think that it might hurt to hear that you’re seeing some guy? Do you honestly think that being with you in Atlanta meant so little to me that I wouldn’t care that you were with someone else now? Especially a man? Especially after the way you left?” I was insulted. “Did I really mean so little to you?” Her eyes mirrored my pain. She bit back her words as she reached out to lay a hand on my arm. I tried not to flinch.
“Leslie. I didn’t know what Kenny was saying to anyone back here.” A gust of wind pushed her against me, and I automatically reached out to steady her. Her green eyes never left mine as she continued. “I assumed he was spreading rumors, but I wasn’t certain. And I trusted that you would know better. I haven’t been sleeping with anyone, Leslie. I swear.”
Stunned, I watched her, uncertain that I could trust what she was telling me.
“I didn’t leave Atlanta to find someone else. I left because my life had changed overnight and I wasn’t prepared to handle the way people were reacting to that change. I didn’t know if I could live that way.” She swallowed hard and continued. “The mistake I made was thinking that I had to be away from you in order to find the answers. I was so afraid that what I was going through would come between us. I didn’t want to blame you or hurt you anymore. And I could see how much it was hurting you.” She shivered and leaned back against the railing. “I’ve been making plans and decisions and all kinds of assumptions. I had no business quitting my job or anything else until I’d talked to you.” I watched her, more, confused than ever.
“Sara, I don’t understand.” I shook my head. “What do you want from me?”
She wrapped her arms around herself. The thin wool coat she was wearing couldn’t possibly be warm. “Right now I want you to come home with me so we can talk without any more misunderstandings.”
“You want to get snowed in with me and your roommate?” I smiled ironically.
She laughed. “She moved out last month. The place is practically empty.”
I shook my head again and sighed, suddenly weary.
“What’s the point, Sara? Trying to get over you has already taken so much out of me. I can’t go through it again. It hurts too much.”
“But that’s exactly the point. I’m not over it. I never tried to get over it. I don’t want to get over it.”
“Sara. I’m telling you I can’t do it. I can’t wake up every day wondering whether or not you’ll be around or wondering if I’m just filling in until you meet the right guy.” For the first time that morning, her eyes glittered with anger.
She leaned closer, setting her jaw and lifting a finger that she pressed to my chest bone. I could feel the pressure even through the thick down jacket.
“You set me up to fail you from day one. You and all of your friends expected me to dump you. Expected me to go back to men. I gave you no reason to think that’s what I was going to do.” She dropped her hand, shoving it deep into the pocket of her coat as she continued her tirade, calmer now. “I’ve spent an awful lot of time going over this. I know that I’ve never felt closer to anyone else. I’ve never had a friend and a lover all wrapped up in one person before. I know that I could never have that with a man. And I’m certain that I never want another man to touch me. Not after making love with you. And I even know now that if you walked away from me right now, I’d still be a lesbian.” I stared at her, dumbfounded, remembering the words she had spoken that night outside the bar in Cambridge.
I’m not a
dyke. I don’t want to be a dyke.