Pulling away, Amy frowned and said, rather self-consciously, “Don’t be silly. There was nothing anyone could have done. It was an accident.” She looked away. “Like so many things in life.”
Reaching out, Colin pulled Amy into him for a hug.
A wave of jealousy washed over Celeste. So
meday, I will be there for you. Someday, I will be able to hold you in my arms and comfort you.
Watching them, Celeste only hoped that the day would come soon.
†
A week into the vacation they arrived in Paxos, the smallest of the Ionian Islands located just south of Corfu, where they spent the day swimming and snorkeling. Eventually, they anchored at the picturesque Port of Gios and stopped at a
taverna
for a lengthy evening meal. After a few hours, they returned to the yacht and settled the children in their berths before settling themselves for the rest of the evening.
Amy sipped her orange juice as Colin dealt the cards for poker. “Why don’t you drink alcohol?” Colin asked, picking up his glass of Ouzo and lemon.
Amy looked up. From experience, she knew that Ouzo was potent, especially on top of other alcohol. Colin had drunk quite a lot of wine at dinner. Raising her eyebrows, she realized that Colin was now on his third glass. She smiled at him, certain that both Celeste and Alex were also desperate to find out about the last four years.
Feeling the tension build, Amy decided to be open. “When I left Sarasota, everything, probably for the next year, was and still is a blur.” She pointed to Colin’s glass as the reason why. She didn’t tell them how seriously she hadn’t cared whether she lived or died.
“When you left, where did you go?” Celeste asked.
“I intended to go on a journey,” Amy replied, looking from her hand to Celeste. “I wanted to visit some of the cities that my dad wanted us to see.”
Amy lowered her eyes when a look of tenderness crossed Celeste’s face.
What Amy didn’t tell them was that she didn’t manage more than a few cities, because she hooked up with a group of travelers and spent too many nights in bars and strange places trying to block out her pain. When the fire happened, she was hospitalized. It was there, drying out and recovering from her injuries, that the full realization and subsequent terror that her children and Maggie were never coming back, hit her full force.
For months, Amy barely communicated. As time slipped by, watching the nurses go about their duties and daily routines began to sooth her, made her feel that Maggie was close by. It was there she met Sandra, who was working her way across Australia. As fellow Glaswegians, Sandra worked hard to bring Amy around. As their friendship grew, Amy never shared her past with Sandra. She couldn’t, it was balled up and buried deep inside her. All Sandra knew was that she was a fellow traveler, caught up in a dreadful accident.
Colin burped. “Did you get to see the cities you wanted?”
Amy half-smiled. “Some.”
Celeste looked at Amy intently. “What made you study nursing?”
Amy looked at Celeste. “It was when I was in hospital that I knew what I wanted to do. I decided to become a nurse.”
“Why?” Alex asked.
Amy sighed, because she really didn’t want to discuss this, she kept her answer brief. “I wanted to give something back.”
I could give something back to the boys and to Maggie
. “And by being a nurse, I could be of some use.” She smiled. “Fortunately, I was accepted into second year at nursing school and the rest, as they say, is history.”
Studying her cards, Celeste asked, “Does Irene know about your burns?”
Amy looked at her for a moment. “No. No one knows.”
“Traveling, never to arrive,” Alex whispered almost to himself. “Amy, no one could find you,” he said, putting his cards down. “How did you just vanish without a trace?”
“Believe me, it’s not that difficult,” Amy said, looking at her cards intently.
Colin reached over and clasped Amy’s hand. “‘Unbelievable,” he said his voice catching. “You lost your children, your best friend, your marriage and Celeste. You suffered those horrific burns. Alone.” He hiccupped then slurred, “It’s like some fucking Greek tragedy.”
There was stunned silence.
Alex stood up and grabbed Colin’s arm. “I think you’ve had too much to drink.” He pulled Colin up. “I’m sorry, Amy, for his insensitivity.”
Colin staggered when Alex pulled him toward their cabin, lurching behind him. He called out before disappearing behind a firmly closed door, “I’m sorry, Amy. No offense was meant, honey.”
Celeste looked at Amy apprehensively, waiting for a reaction.
Amy shrugged. “What?” she said to a surprised Celeste. “He didn’t mean to offend me.” She stood. “C’mon, let’s get an early night. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”
†
It was nearing the end of their vacation. Alex sat with Celeste on the deck of the yacht. “It’s the end of July and the accident happened in November. It’ll be almost five—”
“I know Alex,” Celeste interrupted. She watched Amy and Colin play with the children in the water. “Let’s not go there today, huh.”
Alex nodded. “Those burns,” he said, picking up a bottle of sunscreen. “God, I can’t believe she went through all that on her own.”
Swinging her long legs off the edge of the deck, Celeste whispered, “Don’t, Alex.” Pulling her knees in, she hugged them. “Please, I can’t bear the thought of her going through that on her own.”
Applying the lotion to his arms, Alex stopped, and said in surprise, “You’ve seen much worse than that.”
“I know,” Celeste said. “But it’s not just the burns, Alex. It’s the associated trauma that goes with injuries like hers that is often the problem.” Celeste fell silent.
“Go on,” Alex said, snapping the cap on the sunscreen bottle closed.
“The burns are treatable,” Celeste said, pressing her chin into her knees. “It’s the psychological impact that’s extremely difficult. Severe depression is common.”
“At least the burns aren’t debilitating, and she can cover them up easily enough.”
Celeste lifted her chin. “But she was at the lowest point in her life, and to suffer that alone given her loss.” She shook her head and whispered, “Why didn’t she tell someone?”
“She didn’t tell anyone, honey,” Alex said, rubbing the lotion between his toes, “because the girl believes she deserves them. They’re her punishment.”
The children shouted for them to watch them being thrown into the water by Colin and Amy, for the umpteenth time. Waving, Alex frowned. “Since the accident, there has been little happiness in her life. I think she’s been determined not to let it back in.”
“Alex,” Celeste said, hugging her legs. “I want to be with her so much that I can’t even begin to describe it.” She closed her eyes. “When I saw the scars, I wanted to taste them.” She opened her eyes and looked at him. “Does that sound strange?” she asked, sounding genuinely confused.
Alex raised his brows. “Touching her wasn’t enough,” he said tenderly. “You wanted to taste it, so that you could absorb her pain.”
Celeste arched an eyebrow. “I think I’m losing the plot.”
Alex waved a hand. “Oh, don’t worry about it.” He smiled. “It’s commonplace in literature. You know, needing to absorb the pain.” He teased. “It’s written in the rules.”
Celeste smiled briefly. Resting her chin on her knees, she gazed at Amy. “I want her in my life, Alex,” she said. “So badly, that sometimes I can’t breathe because I panic at the thought of losing her again.” She drew in a deep breath then exhaled slowly. “I want to find out where she’s been and what she’s been doing for the last few years.” She looked at him. “I want to know everything, every detail, regardless of how small.”
“I know.” Alex sighed. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea to push.”
Celeste nodded. “For the last few weeks, I’ve never been happier.” She looked at Amy. “She means everything to me. But I’m scared that if I show any emotion she’ll run.” She closed her eyes. “And I’m terrified that I’ll never be able to break down those barriers.”
“I know,” Alex said, moving closer to her. “But, for now, you’ll have to be careful or there is a real chance that Amy might bolt. She’s been to hell and back,” he said, touching her arm. “She’s dealing with a lot of emotional baggage. Right now, she needs her friends around her. She needs to be cared for and nurtured. Things will turn out good, for sure, Celeste. I can feel it. Just give it some time, all it needs is time.”
“I hope so, Alex,” Celeste said. “God, I hope so, because I can’t lose her again.”
Celeste, Amy, and the children were at the airport, seeing off Alex and Colin who were heading for Italy before returning home. Celeste and the children were due to fly back home the following Saturday. Their time, Celeste thought regretfully, was up. She was due back at work and the kids at school.
Alex hugged Amy. “It’s been wonderful seeing you,” he said. “And I want you to promise that you’ll come back to the States for Christmas. You must.” He hugged her tightly. “I’m determined not to accept anything other than yes for an answer. And if I have to,” he warned, “I’ll catch a flight all the way over here and drag your sorry ass back. And that’s a promise.” Smiling, he looked at her. “Seriously, Amy, stay in touch.” He hugged her one more time. “Okay!”
Celeste watched Amy smile at Alex but say nothing. Since they had arrived, Amy had spent a lot of her free time with them. Just a few pleading cries, Celeste happily acknowledged, from the children was enough to make her concede every time.
With several more rounds of hugs and kisses, and a few more subtle threats from Alex, then Colin, for Amy to visit, they eventually waved them through the departure gate.
“What do you want to do today?” Celeste asked Amy as they left the airport.
“Well,” Amy responded, then smiled at Naomi when she took her hand. “I really need to do some house stuff.” She looked at Celeste. “What do you think about visiting some scrap yards,” she asked. “I want to get a dining table made from railway sleepers. Do you think the kids would like that?”
Celeste smiled. “Yes.”
Amy nodded. “Good.”
That afternoon, to Celeste’s delight, the kids seemed to enjoy traipsing around scrap yards, particularly Daniel. Amy was good for him, Celeste thought. She spent a lot of time encouraging him to sketch, encouraging his artistic side.
As they looked around the yard, Amy told her that this was familiar territory. When she was at college she did a sculpting and welding course and, over the years, had spent many afternoons scouring these yards looking for things to use. At the third scrap yard, she found wood in good enough condition and ordered it to be cut to size and delivered to an ironmonger for fitting.
Celeste watched Amy make arrangements with the site owner and wondered if she missed being an architect, missed the creative element. She has such talent, she thought, as she watched Daniel stand next to Amy and listen intently as the man spoke in his broad Glaswegian dialect.
Celeste smiled. She could see by the look on Daniel’s face that he didn’t understand a word the guy was saying, but it was clear that he was determined to stand by Amy, and every time she nodded, he nodded too.
He has such talent. Help me Amy. Help me nurture his talent.
By the time they were ready to go home, it was early evening and time for food. The children decided that they would go back to Amy’s apartment, rent a movie and order takeout.
†
Celeste woke with a start when a foot thudded into the side of her ribs and a hand smacked her face. She realized she was in the middle of the sofa, squashed between Daniel and Naomi. Gently, she extricated herself. Smiling, she tried to remember at what point in the movie she had fallen asleep.
Standing, Celeste looked at Amy who was stretched out on the floor. She knelt down next to her and gently woke her up.
Sitting up, Amy rubbed her eyes and, yawning, stretched out. She looked over at the sleeping children. “I think it’s probably best that you all stay here tonight.”
“Are you sure?” Celeste asked uncertainly.
Amy nodded and whispered, “Just give me a few moments to make up the bed in the spare room.”
“Do you need a hand?” Celeste whispered back.
Smiling gently, Amy whispered, “If you like.”
Celeste nodded eagerly.
After the bed was made, they carried the children through, stripped them to their underwear, tucked them in and kissed them goodnight. Thankfully, neither stirred.
Amy closed the bedroom door behind her, and Celeste’s stomach twisted when she grinned and winked at her.
“That was easy,” Amy said, before turning and walking down the hall. “I think that the bed is too wee for everyone to sleep in?” She asked over her shoulder, “Do you mind sleeping on the couch?”
“No,” Celeste replied, following her.
Pointing to her bedroom, Amy told her, “There’s a spare duvet in the top cupboard in my bedroom. I’ll get a sheet from the linen cupboard, if you’ll get the duvet.”
Entering Amy’s bedroom Celeste’s nostrils flared when the blonde’s lingering scent hit her. The apartment that she lived in was in an old tenement block with high ceilings; Glasgow was famous for them. Locating the cupboard, Celeste reached up to the handle. She stretched her full length but couldn’t reach. Looking around for something to stand on, she noticed how sparse the room was.
When Celeste had first visited Amy she was surprised that the apartment had nothing more than basic amenities, so basic, Amy bought a TV and media player when the kids couldn’t hide their horror that she didn’t have either.
When she first entered this apartment, Celeste had hoped to see some artwork adorning the walls. Amy’s home in South Venice was filled with it, filled with color and life, but this apartment carried none of that color or that creativity.
A deep sadness filled Celeste as she looked around and realized that Amy probably hadn’t touched a canvas in years. Standing in the room, she hoped that somehow Daniel would be able to bridge the gap and encourage her to paint again.
Noticing a wicker chair near the window Celeste pulled it over to the cupboard to stand on. Trying to balance her weight on the wobbly chair, she reached for the handle. Grasping it, she pulled on it. The door creaked as it opened and, feeling pleased, she grinned—just as her foot shot through the center of the chair. Falling to the ground she hit the floor with a thud.
“What happened?” Amy asked, moving into the room hurriedly.
Celeste looked at the chair, then at Amy.
Isn’t it obvious?
But to make amends said, “I think I’ve ruined your chair. She grimaced as she tried to nudge her foot loose. “I used it to get to the cupboard.”
“Let me help,” Amy said and gently helped Celeste remove her foot. “I’ll help you onto the bed.”
Standing, Celeste leaned on Amy and hobbled to the edge of the bed. Sitting, she removed her left shoe and sock. Leaning forward, she gently touched the area around her ankle. “It’s only a slight twist,” she said, moving it from side to side.
“Good,” Amy replied, sounding relieved.
Straightening, Celeste pointed to the cupboard. “How do you normally get up there?”
Amy looked at the cupboard. “Some eejit who owned the flat before me must have moved the original handles and now they’re too high. So I use a ladder when I need to get up there.”
Celeste raised her eyebrows in consternation and wondered where the hell the ladder was now.
“Somehow,” Amy said, lips twitching. “I thought you would’ve been tall enough to reach.” Looking at Celeste’s foot, she added drolly, “But obviously not.” She moved to the door. “Let me bind that for you. Do you want some painkillers?”
Celeste nodded, and feeling slightly queasy lay down. After a few minutes, Amy returned and handed her a glass of water with two painkillers. “I checked on the kids, they didn’t hear a thing,” she said. “They’re sound asleep.”
“Good,” Celeste replied. Accepting the painkillers, she placed them in her mouth and looked up at Amy, then closed her eyes. All day she had been intensely aware of her. The need to have some physical contact with her was growing. She called on all her resolve not to do anything that would threaten the harmony that had been with them all day.
Sitting up, Celeste sipped some water. Chinking the ice in the glass, she lay back down and rubbed it against her forehead. She inhaled deeply when Amy gently stretched out her leg.
Resting Celeste’s leg between her thighs, Amy slid up the leg of her jeans before carefully positioning the crepe bandage over her toes.
Amy’s touch was unnerving. Celeste swallowed hard. Biting her bottom lip she pressed the glass against her forehead, all too aware that, right now, being around this woman was beginning to drive her absolutely crazy. Since her arrival in Scotland, she had struggled every day to hide her feelings, but today it had been particularly hard. Today, there seemed to be a special connection between them.
“You’ll feel just a little pressure as I move it up your leg,” Amy advised.
Celeste nodded and closing her eyes, groaned in dismay when Amy’s feathery touch made her groin clench.
Halting, Amy asked, “Are you okay?”
Celeste squeaked, “Yes.” Her eyes flew open and she quickly cleared her throat. “Yes,” she replied more firmly this time. “I’m great, thanks.” She coughed lightly. “I’ve just got a tickle at the back of my throat.”
Raising her eyebrows, Amy looked at her as she finished. “All done”
Not moving, Celeste looked up at her.
“Are you okay?” Amy asked, leaning over her.
“Yes,” Celeste responded. Desperate for Amy not to find out the truth, she added quickly, “I’m just feeling a little shaky, that’s all.”
Standing, Amy looked at her closely. “You do look a bit pale.” Frowning, she asked, “Did you hit your head?”
Heart hammering, Celeste shook her head.
Amy looked at Celeste for a moment. “C’mon,” she said, taking the glass from her. “Let’s get you into bed. I think it’s best that you have the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
In no mood to argue, Celeste nodded and allowed Amy to remove her other shoe, then sock, before lifting her legs from the floor onto the bed.
Removing pajamas from a drawer Amy said, “Celeste, take your jeans off.”
Celeste’s eyes widened. She didn’t want to get undressed.
Holding the pajamas, Amy looked at her and frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Uhmm…Nothing.” It’ll appear stupid to make a fuss, Celeste thought. She unbuckled her belt and popped open the buttons. She tried to pull her jeans off quickly, but was slowed by her injured foot. Grimacing, she looked up in surprise when Amy took over, pulling her jeans down and gently off. This was the last thing she expected. Fighting the urge to pull Amy into her arms, she covered her face with her hands.
“Sorry,” Amy said quietly. “I should have let you take them off yourself. Automatic reaction, I’m afraid. Blame it on my nurse training,” she handed Celeste her pajamas. “You should manage to get into these all right.”
Feeling sick, Celeste turned on her side, and folded into a fetal position.
Concerned, Amy leaned over her and placed a hand on her forehead, it was cold and clammy. She looked at Celeste. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head when you fell?”
Celeste didn’t answer.
“Can you turn on your back?” Amy asked. Frowning, she watched Celeste hesitate. “Please,” she added, beginning to worry.
Celeste took a deep breath, and nodding, lay on her back.
Worried, Amy looked into Celeste’s eyes, and checked her pupils. Satisfied, she looked at her.
This is dangerous. She’s fine. Just get up and get the hell out of here!
Removing her hand, Amy croaked, “You seem to be fine.”
Amy looked at Celeste and her heart clenched. Lying there, she looked so exposed, with evident desire and longing shining in her eyes. Amy’s gut tightened and a surprising twist of desire knotted through it. The whole moment took on a surreal quality. Unable to resist, she reached out and gently stroked Celeste’s face.