Authors: Barrett
Tags: #Gay & Lesbian, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #Genre Fiction, #Lesbian, #Lesbian Romance, #Literature & Fiction
“We don’t have a schedule. Go ahead and finish what you’re doing,” Kirin said. “I’d love to watch your process.”
“I’m really done with this part and certainly ready for a shower.” Silke stood and stretched, then looked at Kirin. “I’m glad to see you. It feels like a long time. I won’t hug you until I’m presentable.”
“You look fine. I never realized that this kind of work was so physically demanding. I mean, it’s not for wimps . . .” Kirin felt her face warm with embarrassment.
“It’s okay. You’re right, the bigger the project, the greater the stamina. That’s for sure.”
“Are you nearly finished with it?” Kirin shoved her hands into her pockets.
Silke stood back and nodded. “I think so. I need to work on some of the details for the top section . . . and then a few coats of marine varnish.
It’ll look better when it’s anchored in the cement base and the lamp is at
tached.” She cocked her head and gave it a satisfied grin.
“I hope I’ll get to see it once it’s installed.” Kirin edged closer for a better view.
Silke’s expression brightened even more, her green eyes fairly twin
kled. “I can’t wait to show you.”
Kirin’s breath caught, and she held it. In one nanosecond, Silke Dyson became the most alluring woman she had ever seen. The part of her brain that allowed her to function as a relatively normal human being seemed to have locked.
Say something, anything, you look like an idiot.
Silke saved the moment by switching off her work light and putting her tools away. “Let’s go up to the house, and I’ll take a quick shower. I can hardly wait to see what you have planned for tonight.” She pulled down the bay door and locked it.
Kirin mutely followed Silke to the house as Silke commented on how dry the weather had been and how her flowers were suffering. As the sound of the shower echoed down the stairs, Kirin exhaled and slumped into a chair. Perspiration had dampened the back of her shirt.
That was awkward
. She shook her head and glanced around. The house was strangely quiet except for the sound of water running and Silke humming.
She drummed two fingers on the kitchen table as a parade of unwel
come worries crowded into her consciousness. Staying busy had kept her from thinking about Nathan’s comments. It was silly to have poured so much hope into one magazine article, but she had, and now her flagship of hope was languishing in the ether.
She pushed her hair back from her forehead and blew out a tense breath. More than once she had been tempted to call Silke, if for no other reason than to share her anxiety. But it wasn’t fair to add any more to Silke’s plate. Between the project and the breakup . . .
“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” Silke said as she trotted into the kitchen followed by the refreshing scent of soap and an herbal shampoo.
Kirin stood up. “No. You’re incredibly fast. I’m not sure how you ac
complished that.”
“At least it’s safe to give you a hug now.” Silke raised her arms.
Kirin slipped into the comfortable embrace she’d secretly craved. “I’m glad. I missed you.”
Silke’s damp hair fell across Kirin’s arm, their cheeks brushed closer, and Kirin felt Silke’s fingers on the back of her neck. She wanted to freeze this moment forever.
Silke laughed. “I didn’t realize how much I missed holding you.”
Kirin squeezed her eyes shut. “I know. Me, too.”
Silke put her hands on Kirin shoulders. They trembled as she slid her palms down to Kirin’s elbows. “Okay. I guess we should get going?”
“Yes.” Kirin cleared her throat and stepped back. “I have a fun sur
prise planned.” She hoped she sounded more excited than awkward.
All she wanted to do was spend the entire evening standing in Silke Dy
son’s kitchen holding her tightly.
“Do you think I’ll need a jacket?” Silke fussed with her hair and straightened the soft, scoop-neck tee shirt.
“Good idea, you might.” Kirin jammed her hands in her pocket and gripped her car keys.
Silke led the way out the back to Kirin’s car in the alley.
“So where are you taking me?” Silke buckled her seat belt.
Kirin started the car. “The first stop is Sendik’s to pick up our order and then will head over to the lakefront.”
Silke draped her arm across the back of Kirin’s seat. “That sounds per
fect. I feel as though I’ve been in the studio forever and that summer has passed me by. You know, it almost seems sinful to live this close to Lake Michigan and not take advantage of it.”
“I know what you mean. I feel the same way, but I have no excuse. I can take my work outside.”
“That’s true.” Silke nodded. “I’ve been dying to ask you what’s going on with your publisher and that great article you wrote. I was sure there would be something in the Sunday supplement book section.”
Kirin’s chest ached from the imagined weight pressing on it. She turned into Sendik’s parking lot. “I guess it’s kind of in limbo right now. Long story. I’ll be right back.”
Chapter Forty-one
FROM ACROSS THE parking lot, Silke watched as Kirin headed back to the car with a large shopping bag. The strong athletic gait belied her sedentary job as a writer. Must be the swimming.
Kirin waved at Silke, flashed a mischievous smile, and slipped on her sunglasses.
The warm sensation in her chest surprised Silke, and it took her a mo
ment to realize it was happiness—something lacking in her life’s events of late. The dark cloud of Rachel Bates had briefly darkened her joy.
“What’s in the bag?” she asked as Kirin placed the large bag on the floor in the backseat.
“It’s a succulent surprise supper, for which you must wait a few more
minutes,” Kirin said. “We’re almost there. Since we’re going to be spend
ing a fair amount of time in the car next weekend, I thought we’d stick close to home.”
“That sounds like a good plan, and it looks like the clouds are disappearing, so it should be a nice evening.” Silke clasped her fingers behind her neck.
Kirin drove a few blocks south and turned onto Lake Park.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever visited this park.” Silke turned sideways to face Kirin. “Isn’t it a shame to live in a nice city like Milwaukee and not take advantage of so many of its wonderful attractions? I’ll bet it would take a week just to see all the historical sites and another week or more for all the summer festivals on the lakefront.” She sighed with some residual sadness. “What have I been doing all these years that I didn’t see the wonderful things around me?”
They turned onto a long driveway.
“Stop.” Silke pulled off her sunglasses and gazed at the tall white struc
ture looming above the trees.
Kirin laughed. “I hope you like our picnic location.”
Silke unbuckled her seat belt and got out. She had to see it without obstruction.
Another hidden gem, the North Point Lighthouse stood only a few miles from her house, and she’d forgotten about it. Pristine and regal, the
lighthouse and the caretaker’s cottage had been overlooking Lake Michi
gan
since 1888. The contrast of the colors was blindingly beautiful. The sur
rounding trees and grass glittered in shades of emerald green. Clear blue skies made rich by the angle of the setting sun accentuated the bright white buildings with contrasting red roofs.
She pressed her hand to her chest. “It’s perfect, just perfect.”
“Hop in, and we’ll park the car,” Kirin said.
“I am so touched that you picked this place. It’s lovely, and a perfect place for a picnic,” Silke said. “You think it’s open?”
“I’m afraid they only allow visitors on weekends, but I brought my
camera in case you wanted some pictures.” Kirin parked the car in a park
ing lot and got out.
Silke pulled the shopping bag from the backseat, and waited as Kirin removed a blanket and a small Styrofoam cooler from the trunk. They crossed the lot to an open area west of the buildings.
Kirin spread the blanket under a large shade tree.
Silke stood transfixed by the lighthouse. She had never been this close to it and was amazed that the impregnable seven-story structure still stood so regally. “I am just speechless.”
Kirin came up behind her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
Silke turned and hugged her tightly. “Thank you so much.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Kirin said. “You want to eat or would you rather wait?”
Silke stepped back slightly embarrassed. “I want to eat, and I’m dying of curiosity about what’s in that bag. But tell me. Why did you choose this site?”
Kirin went to the blanket. “I was thinking about how impressed I was by your project the first time I saw it. I tried to visualize how impressive it would look on a bluff overlooking the lake. You know, how welcoming it would look.” She pointed to the gleaming glass top of the lighthouse. “It got me thinking about the notion of using lights and beacons to signal a welcome to people.” She laughed. “I suppose it seems kind of silly, but I remembered this lighthouse and how beautiful it was.”
Silke sat down next to her, and they looked up at the tower. “You’re
right. I suppose ever since someone discovered fire, we’ve used it to illu
minate.” She leaned back on her outstretched arms.
“I remember several years ago I did a piece about the rugged fisher folks who live in the Outer Hebrides of Scotland.” Kirin pulled several
sealed containers from the paper bag. “Truly, it’s a place time has forgot
ten. They are an amazingly resilient people who have clung to the old ways,
and many still speak Gaelic. The old people and the language are dis
ap
pearing as the younger generation moves away and abandons the hard
scrabble existence along with their native tongue.” She paused and sighed wistfully. “At one of my final stops during the trip, I interviewed an old woman whose family had lived there for generations. Through a translator, she painstakingly described some of the traditions based on old Norse customs.” She lay back on the blanket and folded her hands behind her neck.
Silke smiled at the way Kirin’s voice began to lilt, almost brogue-like.
“In one of them, she described the Beltane tradition of lighting bale
fires on the highest points along the coast. Originally they would have their cattle pass between two fires to purify and protect them, as well as bring good fortune to the farmer. The fires provided the signal to all within view. After many years, it became a welcoming beacon for the fishermen.”
Silke sat up and clasped her hands together. “That’s perfect. I’m going to name my piece
Balefire
because that’s exactly what it will represent, a welcoming beacon.”
“That’s a terrific idea,” Kirin said. “I’m sure your client will love it.”
Kirin looked at the containers on the blanket. “I wasn’t sure what your
taste was, but I figured you’d be hungry. There’s some grilled lemon pep
per chicken, sliced honey baked ham, red potato salad, broccoli salad with sunflower seeds, fresh fruit salad, and Sendik’s home-baked brownies.”
She pulled a bottle of wine from the cooler. “My personal sommelier se
lected this delightful Prairie Fumè from our own Wallersheim Winery in Prairie Du Sac, Wisconsin.”
Silke laughed at the grand gesture. “I believe you have thought of everything. It is a perfect meal, a perfect location, a perfectly lovely eve
ning—and the perfect company.”
Kirin grinned proudly and handed Silke the bottle. “If you don’t mind opening this, I’ll get the rest of the food set up.”
Silke felt relaxed and peaceful as she stretched out on the blanket. The sun slipped farther behind the horizon, leaving an almost peach-colored tint on the majestic white lighthouse. She glanced at Kirin, who was lying on her back with her eyes closed. She couldn’t get over how two people, who had spent relatively little time together, could achieve such an affinity.
The warm sensations in her chest seemed to permeate every cell. She tentatively stroked the top of Kirin’s arm and interlocked their fingers. As the sky darkened and stars appeared, they lay side by side silently. Without warning, the beacon above them moved. Kirin squeezed Silke’s hand as the silent sentry rotated slowly.
“I’m so glad to have you in my life,” Silke whispered and kissed Ki
rin’s forehead.
“I feel the same way.” Kirin smiled and gazed at the beacon. “You
haven’t said anything about Rachel, and of course that’s none of my busi
ness. It’s just that I—”
“I should have.” Silke sighed. “I didn’t want to ruin a perfect evening with unpleasantness. We can talk about it if you want, but it’s over. She’s gone. I’m tired of worrying and I’m tired of crying.”
Kirin rolled up on her side and faced Silke. “I understand grieving the loss is personal. I respect that. And when you feel you’re ready . . . I want to be there.” She stroked Silke’s cheek with warm fingers. “I want to be
with you in every way that you’ll have me, but I don’t want to push some
thing you may not be ready for, and I don’t want to do anything to lose your friendship.”
Silke felt tears roll down her cheeks. The unexpected tenderness in Kirin’s voice squeezed her heart with painful pleasure. In that moment,
she knew she had denied herself even the possibility of that hope. The
bright reassuring happiness she had felt the moment she had grabbed Kirin’s hand during the storm-tossed flight to Belize was real.
Her throat burned with a mixture of sadness and joy. “You have no idea how much that means to me and how important you are.”
Kirin slid closer, put her arm around Silke’s waist, and pulled her into an embrace. The warmth between their bodies felt magnetic. Silke allowed herself to relax into a tender embrace and promising caresses of Kirin’s arms.
The tender kiss was like coming home.
Chapter Forty-two
“THANKS FOR COMING over on your day off. I’ve got my hands full, trying to get this project done so I can leave town for a few days.” Silke held the door for Phillip.
“The timing was good,” Phillip said. “I was trying to find an excuse to keep from driving into the office for some files. Do we have time to go see that project?”
“Sure, if you want. Rachel couldn’t pick up the rental truck until ten.”
Silke rolled up the bay door to the studio.