Chapter Twenty-seven
The statement hung between
them. These weren't words Rona had expected to hear anytime soon, if ever. She
wanted to say something, but Anna's declaration caught her completely off
guard. She wasn't sure how to respond.
Anna stepped away. "Too
soon, huh? I'm sorry."
Rona tried to speak, but still
nothing came. She had seen the look of hurt on Anna's face as she turned from
her.
"Why don't you finish
with the ice chest and I'll clean up out here?" Anna turned away without
waiting for her to agree.
Rona went back into the kitchen
and stood staring into space. Anna had opened the door to the next step in
their relationship, but she hadn't been able to step in. Why couldn't she say
the words? She felt strongly for Anna and wanted their relationship to mature.
Was she not ready to make that commitment? She tried to form the words in her
head and visualize saying them to Anna, but they scampered around like leaves
caught in a whirlwind.
"We did a decent job
packing the eggs," Anna said as she walked in holding the bowl. "It
looks like two or three are cracked, but they're salvageable." She set the
bowl on the counter without looking at Rona. "I'm going to bring in the
wood and start a fire. It'll get chilly now that the sun has gone down."
Rona watched her walk away.
There was already a chill in the air and it had nothing to do with the weather.
Not knowing what else to do, she finished putting away the items in the ice
chest.
For the next hour, they both
kept their distance. When Anna came in with the wood and started building a fire,
Rona went to unpack her bag. She left to put away the ice chest when Anna came
in to unpack. She was boiling water for spaghetti when Anna came out a few
minutes later.
"Are we going to spend
the entire weekend avoiding each other?" Anna asked.
Rona shook her head.
"I'm sorry about what I'm
said."
An odd queasiness hit Rona's
stomach. She turned off the boiling water. "I didn't know what to
say," she admitted. Anna turned away before Rona could see her face.
"I wasn't expecting you to say ... that."
"It was just one of those
spur-of-moment things," Anna said as she knelt down and began stoking the
fire. "It's not like I was about to ask you to marry me or anything."
"Right," Rona said
with a chuckle that stuck in her throat and made her cough. She saw Anna's hand
brush against her cheek as she pretended to push her hair back from her face.
"We're going to need more
wood," Anna said as she rushed out of the cabin.
Rona leaned her head against
the refrigerator door. Why couldn't she just say the damn words? She cared
deeply for Anna. Mary was the only other person she'd ever felt this way about.
I f she loved Mary, then the feelings she was having for Anna must be ... the
same thing. Frustrated, she gave her head a sharp rap on the refrigerator door.
She couldn't even think the words. Needing
something
to do, she turned the water back on before dumping the ice out of the ice
chest. When the water was again boiling, she added the pasta and poured the
leftover spaghetti sauce into a saucepan to heat. Anna still had not returned
when Rona started putting together a small salad. The sauce was simmering and
the pasta was draining when Anna finally came back.
"I'm sorry," Rona
said as soon as Anna put the wood down.
Anna shook her head. "You
didn't do anything. I shouldn't have..."
"I care for you deeply,
but I'm not ready—"
Anna held up her hand.
"Can we please just forget it happened?"
Rona nodded. "If you can
forget I thought you were a bear?"
Anna smiled, and the tension
between them began to melt. "What possessed you to think I was a
bear?"
Embarrassed but relieved that
they were speaking again, Rona told her what the man from the store had told
her.
"That old fart told me the
same thing the first time I stopped in there. Luckily, I knew he was full of
stuffing."
"So, there really aren't
any bears around here?"
Anna shook her head. "I
think you'd have to go all the way to West Texas to find a bear."
"You must have thought I was
some kind of idiot." She quickly turned away, but not before she saw
Anna's face soften.
"We'll blame your
nervousness on low blood sugar," she said as she started removing dishes
from the cabinet. "The spaghetti smells wonderful. I packed a couple of bottles
of wine. They're in that box over in the corner, if you'd like to open
one."
Their conversation remained
forced all through dinner. It wasn't until after they moved to the living room
and curled up on the sofa together that things began to return to normal. They
shared the routine everyday stories of their lives that no one other than a
lover wants to hear. It was well after midnight when Rona pulled Anna into her
arms and kissed her. In the warm glow of the firelight, she spread a blanket
out on the floor. She slowly removed Anna's clothes before taking off her own
and stretching out alongside her. At first, their touches were guarded, but as
passion took over, they became more insistent. When Rona slipped her fingers
deep into Anna, Anna surprised her by rolling over onto her and sitting up. She
drove Rona's fingers deeper inside her as she began a slow rhythmic rocking
motion.
With her hand imprisoned, Rona
used the thumb of her other hand to help stroke her lover to orgasm. She
watched as Anna came with her head thrown back and her body arched and
practically vibrating as waves of pleasure shook her, leaving in their wake
that special soft afterglow of dreamy eyes and a faint smile. Rona wrapped her
arms around her and held her tight. With eyes squeezed shut to stop the tears
that threatened, she finally allowed herself to admit how much she did love
this woman. She tried to say the words aloud, to tell Anna how she wanted to
spend a lifetime with her, but to do so might tempt fate. Instead, she held
her. When Anna tried to move to make love to her, Rona whispered, "Just
let me hold you."
The fire slowly burned down.
When the night air took on a chill, Rona pulled the edges of the blanket around
them and continued to hold her. The eastern sky was already beginning to grow
light before Rona finally drifted off to sleep.
The smell of freshly brewed
coffee dragged her eyes open to reveal Anna sitting on the floor beside her
holding out a cup.
"I knew this was the only
thing that would wake you," Anna said and smiled.
It took Rona a second to
realize that the light was coming from the kitchen and not the sun. "What
time is it?" she asked.
"A little after
six."
"Why are you up so
early?"
"Because there's
something I want to show you and we have to rush or we'll miss it. So hurry and
get dressed," Anna said as she stood.
"Wait a minute,"
Rona protested. "Where are you going with my coffee?"
"I'm going to put it in a
travel mug. Get dressed. We really do have to hurry."
Rona tried to shake the
cobwebs of sleep from her head and concentrate on tying her sneakers. She was
buttoning her shirt when Anna returned.
"I brought you a pullover
and your jacket. You'll need to wear them both. It's cool out."
Rona picked up the blanket and
started to fold it.
"We'll do that
later," Anna insisted. "Please, hurry."
Rona grabbed the pullover and
yanked it over her head before getting her jacket and heading for the door.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" she called back to Anna. "We
have to hurry." She started out the front door.
"No, this way," Anna
called as she headed out onto the balcony.
Rona followed her down the
steps of the balcony. "Where are we going?" she asked as she rushed
to catch up.
"Over there." Anna
pointed to the far side of the lake. "You're about to see one of the most
fantastic sunrises of your life. It looks like the entire lake catches
fire."
Rona stopped sharply.
"How are we going to get there?"
"In that."
In the dim light, it took Rona
a minute before she noticed the small rowboat. She swallowed her groan.
"The next thing I know, she'll be wanting to fish," she grumbled as
she started running to catch up. She needed that coffee.
When they reached the boat,
Anna finally handed over Rona's cup. "Hop in and I'll push off."
Rona climbed in and held on
while Anna scrambled into the boat. She took time to grab a quick swallow of
coffee, then picked up the oars and started rowing across the lake.
"Hey, you seem to know
what you're doing," Anna said as Rona's long smooth stroke sent them
skimming across the lake. "I guess you've rowed a boat before."
"Please." Rona
pretended to be offended. "I am from Michigan. You know, where there are
real lakes, not just these little man-made things you Texans have."
"Excuse my ignorance.
You're absolutely right." Just when Rona was about to feel smug, Anna
added, "Are there any bears in Michigan?"
Rona rolled her eyes and
sighed as Anna's laughter danced across the lake.
Chapter Twenty-eight
On Monday morning, Rona
stepped off the bus and walked toward the music store. She couldn't remember
the last time she felt this relaxed and happy. She and Anna spent the entire
weekend hiking around the lake or exploring it in the rowboat. The sunrise was
as beautiful as Anna promised, as were the sunsets. Each night they talked
until a playful touch or kiss led them to the bedroom. The weekend was so
fantastic she hadn't even spent time worrying about coming back and starting a
new job today. Her only regret was that because of the difference in their
hours, she would no longer be riding with Anna. Riding the bus worked well for
her. Even though the trip took almost an hour, she only had to make one
transfer and the store was less than two blocks from the bus stop.
A closed sign still hung in
the window, but Rona could see Verna inside dusting. She tapped on the window
and smiled when Verna looked surprised. "You didn't think I was coming
back, did you?" Rona asked when she went in. The store smelled of fine
furniture polish.
"It was a toss-up,"
the older woman admitted.
Rona handed her the employment
forms Verna had given her the day she hired her.
"Let me give you the
grand tour. If your lunch needs to be refrigerated," she said, gesturing
to the small bag Rona was toting, "we have a small fridge in the back
storeroom." The showroom consisted of one enormous area, with the various
types of instruments claiming their own spaces. Large tables holding wooden
boxes filled with sheet music made up the back of the room. Display cases
exhibiting small musical accessories sat near the appropriate instruments. The
walls held framed posters of famous musicians and ad posters hawking everything
from harmonicas to baby grand pianos. As Verna gave her a tour of the sales
floor, she also recited the history of the store. Rona's interest didn't pique
until she mentioned that the store catered to professional musicians.
"I didn't realize San
Antonio had that many professionals," Rona said, knowing that Austin was
better known for its music scene.
"You'd be
surprised," Verna replied as she led the way back to the front. "Most
of them aren't household names like the headlines they perform with." She
turned and sniffed. "Not every musician in Texas lives in Austin, you
know." She began to arrange a display case filled with harmonicas.
"Before my husband, Sam, died, the courtyard would be packed every
Saturday night. Attendance was by invitation only. Let me tell you, an
invitation from Sam Holland was a guarantee that you were about to be noticed
by some of the top music people around. We had music people from Nashville, Los
Angeles and Seattle calling us."
"Where's the
Courtyard?" Rona asked, thinking she was talking about a club.
"Out behind the
store." She nodded toward the back.
"There's a club behind
here?"
Verna looked at her as though
she was daft. "No, there's a courtyard."
"Oh," Rona said,
even though she still wasn't certain she understood.
"We'd also have an open
mike night once a month." She covered her ears and cringed. "Some of
those people were horrible, but every once in a while a jewel would come
along."
A tapping on the front glass
interrupted them. "That's Jerry. That boy is always late. Would you mind
letting him in? The keys are in the door."
Rona trotted to the door and
opened it. She wanted to hear more about the courtyard. Before she could bring
the conversation back around to it, customers started trickling in. Business
wasn't booming, but it was steady. Whenever they had free time, Jerry showed
her how to ring up sales and helped her become acquainted with the stock. At
first, she wasn't sure how she was going to get along with the boisterous and
gossipy twenty-year-old. As she spent more time with him, she began to realize
that most of his posturing was an attempt to cover his deep insecurities of an
already receding hairline and the ravages of a severe case of childhood acne.