Authors: Barrett
Tags: #Gay & Lesbian, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #Genre Fiction, #Lesbian, #Lesbian Romance, #Literature & Fiction
“Just before I left, I decided that I will go back in a few months and take Diane up on her offer. Two months down there will give me time to see if it’s feasible. Again, it all depends on what Rachel decides to do.”
Kirin leaned forward with both arms on the table. “What kind of take
out food do you have around here?”
Silke smiled. “Let’s see, Chinese, Italian, and, of course, German. What do you feel like?”
“I had Italian last night, so either of the other two is fine with me.”
“German is a little heavy for a summer night, let’s go with the Chi
nese,” Silke said. “There’s a menu in the drawer by the sink.”
THE RIDE HOME seemed long because Kirin was tired. After they stuffed themselves on a variety of Chinese entrees, Silke had insisted they
run out for custard at midnight. It was almost two a.m. when Kirin reluc
tantly said good night.
As tired as she was, she also felt peaceful and almost joyful. The simi
lar qualities she and Silke shared astounded her. They briefly talked about their hopes and dreams. Silke talked about a brief marriage in graduate school. Their spiritual and political philosophies even dovetailed. Kirin
smiled as she remembered Silke’s stories about how close she and a broth
er were when they were young. They sounded like little terrors.
The only niggling worry was the subtle change in her feelings. Ever since their time in Belize, she’d felt a friendly closeness and a natural affinity that she’d attributed to their shared situation. But the few times they’d been together since returning, made her realize that the physical attraction was growing.
Silke exuded a sensuality that was almost irresistible. Her movements had a musical quality, like a dancer, and she had a wonderful comfort about touching. At first, Kirin attributed that to her vision and need for balance. But now . . . now those touches felt intentional. A warm sensation filled her as she thought about them sitting on the back porch in the moonlight. Silke’s fingers found ways to touch Kirin’s hair, neck, shoulder, and bare thigh. It was probably innocent, but the result was incredibly arousing.
She opened the windows further. The breeze lifted her damp hair from her forehead. She pictured the fan in the studio blowing air across Silke’s face—a vision of her sitting on the drafting chair with her eyes closed and a damp sheen of perspiration on her wide chest and shoulders. Without a bra, the damp tank top molded to her body. At that moment, her desire nearly overwhelmed her sense of reason.
The rhythmic pulsation in her chest surprised her, and she remembered her own words. “A body wants what a body wants.”
No kidding
.
The image faded and her breathing return to normal as the left-brain begged to be rational. Silke Dyson was in a very bad situation. She was vulnerable, confused, and needy. She also had a rather volatile partner.
This is not—emphasize not—the time to even think about a romantic relationship.
As she unlocked her front door, Kirin thought a cold shower might be in order. If she didn’t have one, she wasn’t sure she could get to sleep.
Chapter Thirty-three
“ARE YOU SURE you’re all right, honey?” Her mother held her arm as she careened across the parking lot.
“I’m okay, just blinder than usual,” Silke said. “He had to dilate my eyes so I’ll be pretty useless for a couple of hours.”
She managed to buckle the seat belt.
Her mom started the car. “Where would you like to have lunch?”
“Wherever you choose will be just fine.”
“I will never get over how crowded this place has gotten over the last few years,” her mom said. “I remember when people came to the Medical College because they had no money. Now look, it’s like a small city.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Silke teased. “I’m glad they make the follow-up appointments the same time or I’d never get in.”
“Dr. Patel seems very nice and he’s awfully good to you. What did he have to say this time?”
Even with her sunglasses, the glare seemed brighter than usual, and Silke pulled down the visor. “He’ll wait for the radiologist’s report, but he’s cautiously optimistic. He said that the blood vessels around the optic nerve have better circulation than the last time. When he did the automated perimetry, I thought I could see more of the light flashes.” She opened her eyes and focused on the windshield, hoping to see her mother seated on her left. The best she could do was the corner of the rearview mirror, the visor, and the dashboard. Even those things were just shapes. “He’s convinced that a slight improvement might be positive. Because it means it’s not getting worse.”
“That sounds like wonderful news, sweetie,” her mom said. “I know these things take time, and I’d be impatient, too. When does he want to see you again?”
“In another two months. Wasn’t that little French patisserie on Water
town Plank?”
“I think you’re right, shouldn’t be too much further if memory serves.”
Her mom turned the corner and slowed.
“There, on the right, and I think that spot near the corner is open.” Silke pointed ahead.
The
Maîtres d
’ escorted them to a small table in front of the window and white café curtains. Silke was thrilled that they had her favorite,
Soupe á l’Oignon
. Her mom chose the Caesar salad.
“Has Phillip filled you in on the soap opera?” Silke thought it better to get this out in the open instead of letting her poor mother imagine the worst scenario.
“Just briefly. He said that you had made up your mind and asked for his help. I do think he had a good idea about buying the house. It’s in such a perfect location, and I always liked the house.” Her mother nervously rearranged her napkin in her lap.
“I feel a
but
coming,” Silke said. “I brought it up because I want your opinion.”
“All right then, I’ll give you my two cents.” Her mom nodded thoughtfully. “I think I understand your desire to get on with your life. It’s just that . . . well, I’m a little worried about how you’ll manage by yourself. You’ve done wonderfully, but mothers worry about their children. Your income went down when they cut your hours at the university and even though
you’re selling some of your work, you can’t depend on that. Without Ra
chel’s income, it might be really hard.”
“Of course I thought about all that,” Silke said. “I can’t do anything until Rachel makes up her mind. I’m hoping I win a grant, which could carry me for quite a while. I agree Phillip has a sensible idea. Either way, he and Barbara could use that as a rental property and make better money than having me as a tenant.”
The waiter, in a crisp white jacket, theatrically presented their entrees then returned to refill their iced tea.
“I’m toying with something else.” Silke paused to let her mom shift
gears. “Diane and Mark generously offered their recently refurbished cot
tage for a few months. I’m going to give that a try and use the time to work on another project.” She took a deep breath. “And while I’m there, I’m going to do some research about living down there.”
The soup cooled enough for her to eat and the fragrance of the cara
melized onions combined with the rich broth jolted her taste buds. Melted gruyere and Parmesan blanketed the toasted croutons. “This is heavenly.”
Her mother continued eating. Her silence meant she was thinking.
After a few mouthfuls, her mother put down her fork. “Silke, you’re a very smart woman and I have never ever known you to be impulsive or foolhardy. So I have to assume you’ve given this a lot of thought. And I do understand your affection for Diane and the wonderful business they’ve built. But I also think you’ve spent years in a very rewarding profession
and I would hate to see you walk away from all that because of one hor
rible experience.”
“You’re right. When I say it aloud it sounds a little rash. Believe me I understand the university worrying about liability because of my vision. It’s just doing lectures instead of studio work is not my strength.” Silke broke off a piece of bread and buttered it. “I don’t know if I’ll actually do
it or if it’ll be something I can do for a few months a year. But the motiva
tion comes from a place deep inside, and I’m not sure I can explain it. But whenever I’m down there, something inside of me loosens and it gives me access to a new level of creativity. It’s like life is just simpler, and without the worries I can focus on what’s really important to me.” She poked at the cheese and stirred it into the soup. “I’ve enjoyed teaching and I’m pleased that my work is selling. It’s just I want to try something different. I don’t
plan on cutting ties in town or at the university. In fact, this year I’m eli
gible for a sabbatical and hopefully they’ll grant it.”
Her mother smiled. “I knew you’d given it a lot of thought.”
“I have.” Silke shrugged. “Of course, the whole thing hinges on if the results of today’s tests and the one in two months. If my vision worsens, I’ll have to make some serious course corrections, because I won’t be working at all and I won’t be able to stay by myself.”
EXHAUSTION PRODDED SILKE upstairs to change clothes. She hung up her blouse and noticed the closet looked different. She hadn’t paid attention in the morning but clearly, a lot more hangers were empty.
She shook her head. Rachel had taken over half her wardrobe on this four-
day business trip. Curious. Something must have happened after their talk. Was she already moving out? More importantly, if she was, where was she going?
She shut the door and stretched out on the bed. Just closing her eyes felt good. On impulse, she opened them and glanced at the dresser. The sculpture of the seagull in flight sat in the center reflected by the mirror. She loved the implied action in the bird’s posture. She also loved Kirin’s thoughtfulness at knowing exactly what she wanted. Her smile lingered, as her eyelids grew heavier.
Chapter Thirty-four
KIRIN REREAD THE e-mail from Silke. She sounded optimistic about the doctor’s comments, which was great news. She replied and hoped for an invitation. It had only been a few days, and she knew was silly to be missing her. She rationalized that Silke was busy with her project and all the stress with her partner. The last thing she wanted to do was be a pest. Maybe Rachel had come home early . . .
She closed the computer and looked up at the clock. She had prom
ised Melissa to help her move a few boxes from storage to Steffi’s house.
She went through the house one more time to make sure she boxed up all of Melissa’s belongings. In the kitchen she found more of Melissa’s unique coffee mugs and an enviable collection of ramen noodles. She laughed as she packed them up. She had to admit that she’d miss some of Melissa’s impulsive antics.
Melissa was happy and excited to show off her new digs. Steffi had
graciously invited Kirin to join a couple of people from work to an im
promptu open house to meet Melissa.
Before closing the box, she went to the pantry and picked out a good white zinfandel as a housewarming present, because it was one the few wines Melissa would drink. That and champagne.
“I THINK THIS one will fit the backseat,” Kirin said.
Melissa had thoughtfully lined up all the boxes in the storage place, which made packing them in the car much easier.
“I can’t thank you enough,” Melissa said, as they got into the car. “It’s not that I can’t lift boxes, it’s just that I’ve been so discombobulated—you know nervous and excited and worried. I really like Steffi a lot and I don’t wanna blow it.”
“I’m sure you’ve won her over with your charm or she wouldn’t have asked you to live with her. What time does she get off work?” Kirin merged the car onto the expressway.
“I think she said five-thirty. I told her I’d make the appetizers because she was going to stop for some more beer.” Melissa refocused the rearview mirror. “You think I look all right?”
“You look really nice,” Kirin said. “I meant to tell you that the toned down look is very attractive. It makes you look more professional. I think we’ll have plenty of time and I can help you with the appetizers.”
Melissa squeezed her arm. “You are the best and don’t worry, I already explained to Steffi that I sometimes work for you, so she shouldn’t worry. She said that was just fine.”
“I’m really happy for you.” Kirin flashed her a smile. “You’ve wait
ed a long time for the right person and it looks like Steffi makes you very happy. Are you worried that living out here will be a long drive to school?”
Melissa laughed. “You know I thought about that. I made a dry run during rush hour just to see. It’s not that much longer. I think I might be on the same schedule as all the brewery workers. Turn right when you get to the next intersection. It’s about halfway down the block on the right.”
“Nice area. I’ve always liked West Allis. It always feels family oriented and safe.”
“I know.” Melissa nodded. “Steffi got the house from her aunt after she died. She’s done a lot of work on it but she says she needs a woman’s touch to decorate it. That’s it. The white one with the grey trim.”
KIRIN AND MELISSA finished the appetizers and put them in the refrigerator.
“I’m home.” Steffi came into the kitchen with her arms full.
Melissa grinned and slipped her arms around Steffi. She growled a little and provided Steffi with a blistering welcome home kiss.
Kirin looked away and wiped off the all-ready immaculate counters.
“Hey, Kirin, I’m glad you could make it and I really appreciate you helping my little angel move her things.” Steffi stuck out her hand.
Kirin wiped her damp hand on her shorts and shook Steffi’s hand. “I was glad to do it. Melissa’s helped me out plenty of times.”
The sound of voices came from the front hallway.
“C’mon in, we’re all back here in the kitchen.” Steffi put the beer bot
tles in the cooler and dumped ice over them.
Four women wandered in. Kirin guessed they worked with Steffi at Harley. Melissa made introductions. She vaguely remembered faces from the weekend in Sturgeon Bay, but couldn’t remember names.
“And this is Lissa who works in HR and her friend Rachel,” Melissa said. “You remember them from Riz’s party.”
Kirin dropped the bottle opener she was holding and bent to pick it up.
Holy shit.
“Sorry. Yes, it’s good to see you both.”
“As soon as everybody’s got something to drink,” Steffi said, “let’s go to the living room, and I’ll introduce you to my awesome sound system. Baby, let me help you with those plates.”
Kirin grabbed a plate of deviled eggs, her beer, and a bag of pretzels—not so easy with trembling hands.
How the hell did this happen?
Thoughts raced across her intracranial big screen. Would they remember her talking to Silke? If so, would Rachel be worried about showing up with Lissa.
Oh, this is not good, not good at all.
Steffi kept the party moving with music, conversation, food, and beer. Thank heaven. Melissa was on top of her game, entertaining everyone and making sure everyone had food and drink.
Kirin tried to be discreet, but it was a small living room and she couldn’t help noticing that Rachel and Lissa seem to be much more familiar with each other than they were the last time. It was embarrassing to watch and it made her a little sad. She wondered if Silke knew about this other woman. If she did, that would explain why she wanted this legal entanglement settled. Their PDA made her more and more uncomfortable.
Just as they all started their second round of drinks, Dawn Rizzoli showed up with a stunning Latina several years her junior. “Sorry we’re late. Theresa had a late rehearsal.”
Relief washed over Kirin as a new center of attention appeared. She slipped out to the kitchen as the group fussed over the new arrival. She desperately wanted to call Silke but had not one clue of what to tell her.
This may be a case where discretion was the better part of valor.
The appetizers were half gone and the beer was flowing.
Melissa walked into the kitchen.
“I’m going to head out,” Kirin said. “I’m beat and I have a long day tomorrow.”
“Do you have to go?” Melissa asked. “I’m bummed, but I think it’s neat you got to meet everybody. Will you come again?”
“I think you’re going to be just fine here. If you ever need anything, call me.”
Steffi walked in.
“Kirin has to leave.” Melissa took Steffi’s arm and looked pitiful.
“Are you sure?” Steffi asked. “Things are warming up now that Riz is here.”
“I’m sure. Thanks for inviting me. We’ll be in touch, I’m sure.” Kirin waved and snuck out the front door.
The whole drive home, she thought about Silke and the betrayal going on behind her back with their mutual friends. Her anger simmered. Rachel was a very attractive woman and clearly a player. The juvenile part of her wanted
to turn the car around and punch the daylights out of her for her callous dis
regard. The other voice reminded her that it was none of her business.
Chapter Thirty-five
SILKE UNTIED THE bandanna that kept the perspiration from her eyes. The project was moving along faster than she had expected. She glanced at the large school clock above the workbench. It was already mid-afternoon and she hadn’t heard from Rachel. Yesterday’s e-mail said something about a meeting. Whatever. She dipped the bandanna into the cold water in the cooler and swabbed her face and neck before re-tying it.
She and Roger had lined up the two sections for the lighthouse. They had to shorten the galvanized pipe because it was too difficult to feed the entire length. That took most of Friday. Fortunately, the bored-out channel was the correct diameter. Today she wanted to score the circumferential markings so she could begin chiseling the faux thatched shingle siding. The mock windows would be last. It looked good.
For the last few days, nervous energy drove her work. A faxed copy of the new agreement as well as a second piece containing Phillips offer lay on her workbench. She debated the wisdom of having him come to the house this weekend, or for them to go to his house, or just go to his office during the week. Wasted energy, since she had no idea how Rachel would react. She pushed her knuckles into the small of her back and flexed her shoulders.
She donned her safety goggles and turned on the power chisel. She made a uniform, shallow V cut around the log, following her marker line. To maintain accurate control she cut a third of the log at a time. After each cut, she repositioned the calipers and turned the log.
Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She quickly turned off the chisel, hoping it would be Kirin. “Hello.”
“It’s me.”
Rachel.
“Are you in the studio?”
“Yes, working on the project.” Dread settled in her chest like a winter cold.
“Well, when you’re ready I brought some Chinese for dinner and I know you wanted to talk . . .”
She took a deep breath and held it then exhaled. “Let me just finish up this section and I’ll be in.” She started to put the phone back in her pocket and made a quick mental argument about whether or not to text Kirin. She didn’t know what she wanted to say and stuck the phone back in her pocket.
It took an hour to finish the lines but she was satisfied. All the time she worked, she agonized about the myriad of scenarios that might play out with Rachel and finally gave up, exhausted.
Rachel was on the phone when she walked in, so she just pointed up
stairs and mouthed the word shower. Rachel nodded.
The cool water did wonders for her flushed hot skin as well as her nervous exhaustion. The temptation to linger was great, but finally she thought,
just do it
.
She slipped on clean shorts and a tee shirt, combed her hair back, and let it hang loose until it dried. The damp hair cooled the back of her shirt in the air-conditioned house.