Homecoming (17 page)

Stunned, Jill stared at her. “What?”

“Don’t act like you weren’t trying to fix me up with one—or both—of the Martin brothers. Chase thought you were dropping me onto his doorstep with a ribbon tied around my neck, and Mason texts me every other day about coming over, just to ‘hang out.’” She made quote marks with her fingers, and the knowing expression on her face made it clear what she thought Mason really wanted.

“Oh, shit,” Jill moaned. “I didn’t…well, I did, but…” She took in a breath. “I’m sorry, Lizzie. I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

“I don’t need to be fixed up,” she said, her volume rising.

“I meant about the light. You said you’d help me with some yard work in exchange for electrical help, so I farmed out that part to Chase.” She looked away, embarrassed to admit how hurt her feelings had been at having her offer ignored. “I was looking forward to spending a Saturday afternoon working on the yard with you. I figured you’d have good ideas for planting.”

“I do,” she said, clearly still pouting. “I could make your backyard look like fucking Giverny.”

“I’ll call Chase and tell him you don’t need your light fixed.” She waited a few seconds, then said, “That was dumb of me to try to introduce you to guys. You just said you were having a tough time meeting people…”

Sharply, she snapped, “I don’t think I said that. Actually, I’m
sure
I didn’t say that.”

Confused, Jill tried to recall their conversation. “I remember you saying you couldn’t find anyone you wanted to be in a relationship with. I figured if you had more choices…”

“I don’t want choices,” she said quietly. “And if I did, I could find them for myself. I’m not a charity case, Jill.”

“God damn it,” she said, tempering the volume of her voice. “I tried to do something nice for you, and you act like I set you up with a serial killer.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, angrily wiping at a few tears that squeezed from her eyes as she closed them. “I just don’t need that kind of help.” Jill’s stomach was doing flips at the sadness she saw in those puffy eyes. “It seems like I’m someone you call only when you need a favor.”

“What have I done to make you think that?” Despite knowing she’d have a tough time getting up, Jill stood, then slid down the wall next to her. Lizzie’s eyes were so full of pain, it felt like a punch to the gut to look into them, knowing that she’d somehow caused it.

“Other than the last minute invitation to the ball game, you’ve never called me to make plans. We just do something if we run into each other.” Her eyebrow rose. “Is that how you treat your other friends?”

Shrugging, Jill said, “Kinda. I mean, we have fixed plans, so we don’t need to call to set things up. Bridge night, game night, birthdays…it’s just assumed.”

“Well, we don’t have that. It’s the end of July and we’ve hung out like twice.” She reached up and wiped at her eyes again. “I feel like I have to chase you, and I don’t want to do that if you don’t want to be chased. I feel like a fool,” she said quietly, the tears really rolling now.

Jill put her hand on Lizzie’s leg and gave it a reassuring pat. “I really do want to hang out with you. That’s why I called you. I thought you’d like to come to the cabin we rented.”

“Now?” she asked, her red-rimmed eyes looking up hopefully.

“Yeah. Right now. Or later today. We’ve got a spare bed that won’t be filled until Monday.”

“And you still want me to come?” she asked, her lower lip trembling. “After I acted like a big baby?”

“Yes,” Jill said, giving her amazingly firm leg another squeeze. “Especially now.”

“Okay.” She rose, gracefully, then picked up her coffee and started to take it to the dirty dish container.

“Hey! Are you throwing that away?”

“Yeah. I just like a little.”

Jill walked over and put her cup under Lizzie’s, then tipped the tepid latte inside. “I like a lot.” She draped her arm around Lizzie’s shoulders and walked her to the door. “Let’s pick up a few things and drive down together. I’ll run you back up tomorrow night.”

“No,” she said, frowning. “That’s a waste of gas. I’ll drive myself down. Can you text me the address?”

“I can.” Jill’s smile grew. “But you have to promise not to ignore it.”

***

It took Lizzie a while to get down to the cabin, but she still beat everyone else. Jill didn’t have the keys yet, but she’d taken the two-person kayak off the rack and had it lying by the steps that allowed lake access.

When Lizzie got out of her car, she looked like a new person. Her hair was shining and bobbed around her shoulders as she walked, her eyes were awake and wide-open, her light jacket covered a striped shirt, and her jeans were freshly laundered, with not a baggy knee to be found.

“You look…” Jill bit her tongue for a moment. Some women were very prickly about being told they’d looked like hell a few hours earlier. “Great,” she finished, deciding to keep it short.

“Thanks. I hadn’t had a shower this morning. I’m surprised you recognized me.”

“Late night?”

“Yeah. One of our board members celebrated his seventy-fifth birthday at Hollyhock last night. Big, big crowd. I worked until midnight, then helped clean up.”

Jill started to walk towards the house, with Lizzie hoisting her backpack over a shoulder. “Why’d you get up so early?”

She shrugged. “I’m not very good at sleeping in. I guess I’m really a farm girl, even though I’ve never lived on a farm. Once the sun’s up, I have a heck of a time staying asleep.” She put a hand on her hip and did a slow assessment of the area. “Nice digs you’ve got here. Is this the kind of place I’ll be able to rent one day?”

“If you ingratiate your way into the club, I’m sure you’ll be invited next year.” She smiled, just thinking of how warmly her friends had spoken of Lizzie. “That won’t be hard.”

“We’ll see. I’m sure it’d cost more than I’ve got.”

“Well, you’re here now, no charge. I thought we’d go kayaking. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.” She dropped her backpack by the front door. “I’m ready to go.”

“I’ve got to pee,” Jill said. “And it’s too cold to jump into the lake to do it. I’ll just sneak off around the back. Don’t go away.”

When she returned, Lizzie had put the kayak into the water, and was sitting in the rear opening, holding onto the stairs with a hand. “Hurry up! The chop is banging the heck out of me.”

Jill ditched her shoes alongside Lizzie’s, then gingerly lowered herself into the shifting, bouncing kayak. “Whew! Almost lost it there!”

“And I wouldn’t have wanted to have to jump in to save you. The water’s
freezing
.”

“It’s a balmy sixty-four, according to a fishing site I found. Of course, with the air temperature being about that…”

“I’d freeze to save you,” Lizzie said. “My mom’s really fond of you.”

Jill started to turn around, but a wet paddle slapped at her back. “Eyes to the front,” Lizzie commanded. “I’ll provide the brawn, you guide us where you want to go.”

“I think I like having you as a partner. Everyone else makes me be in the back.”

“You call the stroke cadence, and I’ll adjust. Want to practice turning?”

“Sure. I’ll do a forward stroke on the left, and you do a reverse on the right. Good?”

“It’s good if you can keep up,” she said, letting out an evil laugh. “I’m kinda awesome strong.”

Laughing at her hyperbole, Jill started her stroke. “How am I doing? Fast enough?”

“Yeah. We’re good. Now switch so we turn the other way.” They practiced that for a minute, then Lizzie said, “I think we’re ready. Sound off.”

“Stroke, stroke, stroke, stroke,” Jill called out in a smooth cadence, raising her voice to compete with the brisk wind.

“Got it,” Lizzie said. “I can keep going at this pace, and adjust when you start to cry.”

“It’ll be a cold day in…” She turned and said, “Today it feels like it’ll always be cold, doesn’t it?”

“No,” Lizzie assured her. “Summer will be back. Guaranteed.”

***

They paddled around for almost an hour, until Jill’s hands were chapped from the cold water running down the paddle. The wind had picked up, making it tough heading into its teeth, but that was part of the fun. Jill wasn’t sure Lizzie liked testing herself against the wind and the chill, but she sure didn’t complain, which was awfully nice. She hated to acknowledge it, but most of her friends were wimps. Good-hearted, kind, bright wimps, but wimps nonetheless.

Lizzie hadn’t spoken in a while, probably because of the wind snapping their hair straight back off their faces. When she did break the silence, Jill was surprised at how clearly she heard her, despite the breeze. Her own body must have provided a break from the wind, letting Lizzie speak in a normal tone of voice.

“I’m sorry for being so bitchy this morning,” she said. She sounded so much like her mom when she tackled a subject head-on. No beating around the bush. Just apologize and move on. “I’ve had something on my mind and I’ve been mulling it over way too much. That’s not fair to you.”

“Fair?” Jill tried to catch a look at her, but as soon as her shoulders turned the boat went right along with them.

“Yeah. Fair.” She didn’t speak for another minute, with Jill pondering her choice of words. “I don’t want you to help me scrounge up dates, Jill.”

“I heard you,” she said, cursing under her breath when she turned and sent the kayak skittering off towards New York. She had to face forward and let Lizzie talk, even though she didn’t know what the hell she was getting at.

“I know who I want.” As the seconds ticked away, Jill knew exactly what the next sentence was going to be. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she could have said it for her. “I want you,” Lizzie said, her voice now dropping down to a lower, softer register.

Frozen, Jill stopped stroking, her hands shaking so hard she could barely keep a grip on her paddle.

“I assume you’d make yourself heard if this was good news,” she added, with Jill hearing the sadness enter her lovely voice.

Damn it to hell!
She turned, not caring if they capsized. “Can we go back to shore? Like now?”

“Yeah,” she said, grim-faced. Jill picked up the pace and Lizzie followed right along, stroking decisively through the chop until they finally made it a good fifteen minutes later. Now Jill’s arms and chest were burning with fatigue. So badly she wasn’t sure she’d be able to hoist herself out. But Lizzie got out with her usual nimble grace, then knelt down and held the kayak with both hands, pressing it hard against the dock.

Jill clung onto the ladder with all of her flagging strength and pulled herself up and out, to stand, shivering from head to toe, on the shore.

Lizzie put her hands on her shoulders, concern filling her face. “Did you get wet? You’re shaking like a leaf.”

“No, no.” She put her hands into the pockets of her khakis and tried to stop shaking. But it was futile. She was terrified as well as exhausted, feeling like every nerve was about to snap. “I just need to…warm up…or rest…or something.” She knew she was almost talking gibberish, but she couldn’t form cogent sentences. Making her way to her car, she wrestled her suitcase from the trunk and opened it to find a red and black plaid wool jacket. As she put it on, she realized she was wearing a mash-up of her mother’s dual season wardrobe, and she fought to dismiss the thought and get her head on straight. “That’s better. Maybe we should walk. Get our blood moving.”

“God,” Lizzie breathed, her cheeks pale. “I had no idea you’d be so…whatever you are. I thought…” For the second time that day, tears sprang from her eyes, once again making Jill feel like an ogre.

“We need to talk about this,” Jill said firmly. “You can’t know how I feel because I don’t. I’ve got to let this sink in.”

With her cold, stiff hand, she grasped Lizzie’s slightly warmer one and started to walk. In a few dozen yards they reached a path that meandered through the woods. As soon as they entered the lightly forested land the wind died appreciably, making it much easier to talk. But Jill couldn’t think of a single word to say.

Lizzie took control and continued on with what she probably wanted to say when they were on the lake. “I thought it would take me a long, long time to get over Jon,” she said quietly as notes of pitch and pine enveloped them. It was amazingly quiet after the slap of the water and the wind snapping their clothing around their bodies. That let her hear Lizzie’s soft, firm declaration perfectly. “But you’re the one, and I can’t ignore my feelings.”

“The one?” She sounded like a kid being told she was about to do something terrifying—and alluring.

“Yes.” Lizzie pulled her to a halt and stared directly into her eyes. “You’re the person I’ve been looking for. I was sure of it the night we went dancing.”

“Lots of people can dance,” Jill said, sounding like she was being strangled.

“This isn’t about dancing,” she said, her gaze unwavering.

Lizzie was still holding Jill’s hand, despite it now being covered with sweat. Jill wiped her other hand on her slacks, even though that really wouldn’t help. Summoning all of her thoughts, she said, “We can’t get involved, Lizzie. We really can’t.”

“Of course we can.” Then, more quietly, she added, “If you’re attracted to me.”

Jill looked at her as the dappled sun fell onto her shoulders. If Lizzie was a woman she’d just met that summer… She couldn’t even imagine how hard she’d be working to convince her to go to bed with her—right then. Lizzie had everything Jill wanted, even if you didn’t consider how she looked. But when you added her intelligence, her good heart, her sense of humor, her energy and her maturity to that gorgeous auburn hair the sun was burnishing a deep wine-red, and those lovely greenish eyes, she felt her knees grow weak. But Lizzie wasn’t someone she’d just met. And that cast everything in a different light.

Jill pulled Lizzie’s hand to her chest and squeezed it close. “Of course I’m attracted to you. But it took me until just this second to realize that. I don’t think of you like that. I don’t and I
shouldn’t
.”