Turning the Page (24 page)

"Dad..." she began.

Ben held up a hand to silence her. "No, no, T. You don't have to explain anything to me. You're a big girl." The pain in his voice was so apparent, it made Taylor wince. He looked like he

wanted to say more. Instead, he turned and made a quiet exit, feeling ten years older than he

actually was.

Taylor and Samantha stood alone in the kitchen for several awkward minutes, neither able to

meet the other's eyes.

God, how did this become such a mess? Taylor asked silently. She swallowed back the lump in

her throat, gathering up the sheet around her ankles and approaching the closed bedroom

door. She hesitated for a minute, then knocked softly.

"Melanie?" Please.

Several minutes went by with no answer.

"Melanie?" she repeated, unable to disguise the crack in her voice. "Are you okay?"

"I just need to think, Taylor," came the soft voice. "Okay? Just...give me some time to think?"

There was such confusion and uncertainty in the tone, and it filled Taylor with dread. She

leaned her forehead against the door, willing the tears not to fall until she was alone. She

cleared her throat. "Okay, sweetheart. Whatever you need. You got it. I...um...I need my

clothes, though."

There was a rustling behind the door, then it opened and Melanie handed a pile of clothing to

Taylor, her head down. She knew if she looked into those dark, loving eyes, she'd be lost

forever. She had a hard time ignoring the searing fire that shot through her at the simple

touch of Taylor's hand as she took the clothes from Melanie's grasp.

"It'll be okay," Taylor whispered softly.

The door shut again quietly. Taylor closed her eyes for a minute, then went into the bathroom

to rid herself of the sheet. She put on the clothes from the previous night, stopping when she

noticed that Melanie had put her own pale blue tank top in the pile. Taylor didn’t know if it was

by mistake or intention as she lifted the soft fabric to her nose and inhaled deeply, drawing

the scent of the woman she'd fallen head over heels for into her lungs. The action caused her

eyes to brim with tears. She shook herself, tucked the tank under her own shirt and exited

the bathroom.

Samantha was still standing quietly in the kitchen, not sure what to do next. Taylor stopped in

front of her, keeping her eyes downcast, her voice low and calm.

"I would never force anybody to do something they didn't want to. Especially not Melanie. I

was under the impression that you, as my friend, would know that."

With that, she left the carriage house. Halfway to her own house, she stopped. She looked

from one building to the other. She didn't want to face her father, though she knew she owed

him some sort of explanation. She couldn't go back to the carriage house.

She wasn't exactly welcome right now. Completely at a loss, she fished her keys out of her

pocket, unable to believe she actually had them, and headed for her car. Right now, she

needed to get the hell away from everybody.

Chapter Twenty-three

"MELLIE?"

THE SOFT voice was perfectly partnered with the soft tapping at the door. Melanie shut her

eyes and buried her face in the pillow she had wrapped in her arms. She realized the scent she

detected was a mixture of Taylor's perfume and the passion of the previous night. She was

unable to stop the flow of tears she'd been suppressing for over an hour now.

"Mellie, come on," Sam's voice pleaded. "I'm sorry. I know I was out of line."

"Way," Melanie answered angrily.

Sam felt a blend of relief at finally being acknowledged and guilt over knowing Melanie was

right. "Okay. Way out of line. You just...I was surprised. That's all. You caught me off-guard."

The blonde jumped as the door flew open unexpectedly. Melanie faced her, dressed in the

same T-shirt and a pair of paint-stained gym shorts, her blue eyes flashing with anger.

"That's a cop-out, Samantha, and you know it," she snapped as she breezed past her cousin to clean the chaotic kitchen.

"What do you mean?" Sam followed her.

"I mean, because you were surprised, that's excuse enough for you to insult somebody who's

supposed to be your friend?"

Sam shifted uncomfortably. "Oh, I did not. Taylor knows I didn't mean it."

"You cal ed her a dyke, Sam. Hell, you might as well have called her a perverted predator the

way you were talking. You don't think she might have been hurt by those remarks?"

"Hey, you shouldn't be talking about hurt. I'm not the one playing both sides of the fence."

"What the hel is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, come on, Mel ie. It was pretty obvious that Ben was hurt by what he saw. Since he knows

Taylor's into girls, I can only assume he had an interest in you, too. My, my, baby cousin.

You're a regular heartbreaker."

Melanie stopped what she was doing and looked at her cousin for a long moment, digesting the

words Samantha had carelessly tossed her way. She felt the guilt slowly seeping into her body,

like water through a sieve. What if she had seriously damaged Taylor's relationship with Ben?

What if her own inability to control herself had put a permanent strain on their father-

daughter existence? Her shoulders drooped slightly with the added weight and she sighed

heavily. Wiping her hands on a dishtowel, she gestured to the kitchen table.

"Sit down, Sam."

Sam did as she was told, unfamiliar with the steely look on her little cousin's face.

"First of all, yes, Taylor is my friend, regardless of this fiasco with Ben. Insulting my friend insults me, plain and simple. Second, your comments lead me to believe that you actually think

I'm stupid enough to let somebody get me drunk and take advantage of me.

That just pisses me off. And third, it isn't any of your fucking business who I sleep with. You

got that?"

Sam looked stunned for a split second and struggled to compose herself. "So, you did sleep

with her? You're... a lesbian?"

Melanie sighed with great weariness. "I don't know, Sam. Yes, I slept with Taylor. Because I

wanted to, not because she tricked me, not because I was trying to play some perverted game

with her and her father. Because I wanted to."

"Is this...what you want? How can you choose that kind of lifestyle?" Sam was honestly

baffled. "I mean, why would you want to be in a minority like that, with what you'll have to put up with?"

Melanie laughed harshly. "Allow me to enlighten you, my dear cousin. The whole 'it's their

choice' thing? It's a big crock of shit.

There is no choice." Her voice cracked, much to her dismay, putting a chink in her calm

demeanor. "And now I need to deal with all of this, and I'm not sure exactly how." She

squeezed her eyes shut against the sudden vision of Taylor's concerned face. God, how she

wanted to be with her right now. But, not like this. Not when she was so messed up in her own

head.

She'd never expected the hostility they'd received from Samantha, not in a million years. And

Ben. Poor Ben. Finding out like that. She could kick herself for letting things go as far as they

had with him. That was just cruel. And now, she'd put a wedge between him and Taylor— even

Sam saw it. That only made her feel infinitely worse.

"I need to get out of here for a while," she said suddenly. She'd just get away...out of

everybody's hair. It was the only solution.

Ben and Taylor could work things out. Samantha could go back to her life...whatever that was.

And Melanie would have the thinking space she so desperately needed. She strode with

purpose to the bedroom, dragging out her suitcase and throwing things in without folding

them.

Samantha followed her into the small room and watched silently for several minutes without

speaking. This was so much for her to absorb. She felt guilty now that she had left Melanie on

her own in a strange city for so long. She still stung from Rob's brush-off and was infinitely

embarrassed that Taylor had struck the nail directly on the head in her assumptions.

"You know, Mellie, you can come back any time you want." Samantha tried to keep her voice

light as her eyes traveled around the room, anything to avoid looking directly at her cousin. "I know this hasn't been the greatest vacation for you, and I'm sorry. Can we try it again?"

Melanie hardly seemed to hear her and kept right on packing. Going back to Chicago

immediately was something of which she was sure, the only thing of which she was sure, and

she clung to it with both hands. "Oh, I'm coming back. Some time next week. I've got the

bookstore to contend with."

Sam blew out a relieved breath, much more relaxed to be talking about familiar things again.

She waved a hand nonchalantly.

"Oh, that. Don't worry about it."

Melanie stopped what she was doing and met her cousin's eyes.

"Really, Mel ie," Sam continued. "I've been thinking. I'm gonna take a second look at it and see if maybe I can give it one more try, ya know?"

Shit. This was all she needed. When it rains, it pours, isn't that what they say? She finished

tossing items into the suitcase, fastened it shut, and sat on the bed with yet another heavy

sigh, patting the space next to her with her hand.

"Sit down, Sam."

TAYLOR WATCHED AS the fourth plane took off from the runway. The day was clear. The

sky was blue. The planes were moving right on schedule. Part of her wished she were on one of

them.

She sighed and leaned her head back against the headrest of the driver's seat. This was a

place she frequented when she needed to get away. It was a small clearing about a hundred

and fifty yards from the main runway of the Rochester International Airport, tucked away

between an abandoned field and a small wooded area. She'd pull her car right up to the fence

and watch the airplanes come and go, forgetting about her life for a while. Not many people

knew how to get to it...back roads that were tough to find...and she usually had it to herself.

Occasionally, some other car would make its way to the chain link fence, but today, the little

red Honda sat alone like a drop of blood on a plain piece of cloth, facing the runway.

How had such a beautiful thing gotten so terribly messed up so fast? Taylor had hoped to

come here to clear her head for a bit, but the same question kept popping up. How could she

fix this before it became irrevocably damaged?

Melanie needed some space. She understood that. She didn't like it, but she understood it.

Coming to terms with your alternative sexuality was never an easy thing. Melanie's being over

thirty wasn't going to make it any easier for her. Taylor had never been somebody's first, and

she'd avoided it for this very reason. Too much turmoil, too much insecurity, too much fear on

the part of the first-timer. People rarely stayed with their firsts. More likely, they grew

apart from them and eventually moved on. That thought terrified Taylor almost as much as

never having Melanie in the first place.

This morning hadn't been exactly the way Taylor pictured it. She hadn't put a lot of thought

into how they would reveal their relationship to the people close to them, but her father

walking in on them when they were both half-naked had not been on her list of ideal situations.

The pain on his face was stil crystal clear in Taylor's mind, the pain and the look of betrayal.

It was only a brief flash, but it was there, making Taylor feel as if she'd stolen something

right out from under his nose. And the anger Sam had radiated...Taylor shook her head, still in

shock over that one. Something must have definitely happened between her and Rob.

Samantha was flighty and self-centered, but prejudiced was not a word commonly used to

describe her.

Her thoughts returned to the gorgeous auburn-haired woman she'd made love to less than

twenty-four hours ago. Taylor could still smell Melanie's scent on her fingers, could still taste

the salty tang on the back of her tongue. They had made music together last night, there was

no denying it. She had known exactly where to touch Melanie, when, and how. In Taylor's eyes,

that was simply further testament to the fact that they were supposed to be together. She

was never one to subscribe to the beliefs of destiny and fate and people being meant for each

other. She was actually something of a cynic when it came to such things. That is, until Melanie

had entered her life. Taylor knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the two of them were

supposed to be together. She didn't know how she knew. She just knew.

She swallowed hard and got out of the car. Moving around to the front, she slid herself onto

the hood, tilted her head back and looked up at the clear, blue sky. Taylor did not consider

herself a religious person by any means, but at this point, she was ready to appeal to whoever

was willing to listen.

"Okay, look," she said aloud, feeling infinitely sil y. "I know I don't talk to you all that much, but I'm at a loss here. I need a little guidance. See, I'm in love with this person...of course, I

suppose if you actually do exist, you already know the details." She studied her hands for

several minutes. "I have never felt so close to somebody, so connected to another person. I've

never fallen so hard or so fast for anybody in my life. I'm not proud of that, mind you. I

just...I really, really don't want to lose her, but I feel like it's out of my hands. I don't know