by Radclyffe
Chapter Thirteen
Grady jumped to her feet along with everyone else in the bleachers and cheered as the home team quarterback threw a Hail Mary pass with twenty seconds left on the clock, and somehow, the wide receiver, a middling-sized guy even in all his football pads who ran like a deer, managed to catch it, threaded his way through half a dozen defenders, and crossed into the end zone with ten seconds on the clock. Courtney threw her arms around Grady and hugged her as she simultaneously jumped up and down. Laughing, Grady hugged her back.
“Up by two,” Courtney shouted. “Up by two.”
“With the extra point, even if the other team somehow manages to get into field goal range, it will only send the game into overtime,” Grady shouted back, as jubilant as if she’d had money riding on the outcome. A few hours ago she’d never laid eyes on any of these kids, and now they had somehow become her team.
“No way we’ll end in a tie,” Taylor yelled from behind them. She braced her hand on Grady’s shoulder and leaned forward to see around the big guy to Grady’s right. “Dave’s got a shotgun arm. I bet they fake the kick, and Dave passes it for two,” Taylor said.
“I wouldn’t take that bet,” Courtney said.
Grady stayed on her feet, the excitement of the crowd contagious. She hadn’t seen a live football game since she’d watched the Redskins play at FedExField five years ago on one of her rare Sundays off. Professional football had nothing on this. This was a whole town turned out to cheer for a bunch of kids.
The quarterback, Dave, faked the toss to the kicker, ran to his right, and floated a sweet pass into the end zone. The buzzer sounded and the home team won. The eruption from the home side was deafening. For a good five minutes, Grady couldn’t hear anything except shouting and foot stomping and the roar of victory. Finally everyone quieted, and she dropped down next to Courtney, breathless and weirdly exuberant.
“That was great,” Grady said.
Courtney shifted to face her, her thigh pressing against Grady’s. Her face was flushed, her eyes bright, her grin incandescent. “Totally. I’m really glad you got to see it. This was a big one.”
“Me too,” Grady said, surprised to realize she meant it. She’d had a good time when she’d thought she was only going to be killing time.
Taylor leaned forward between them, a hand on each of their shoulders. “Court, are you going to the Homestead after this?”
“After this?” Courtney laughed. “You kidding? Wouldn’t miss it. I’d give you guys a ride, but no way will you fit in the Miata.”
“No problem. We’ll find a ride.”
Margie crowded in beside Taylor. “It looks like a ride’s on the way.”
She pointed, and Grady automatically followed the direction she indicated. The bleacher crowd had slowly begun to dissipate, and Blaise climbed toward them, stepping from one empty seat to the next. Grady hadn’t expected to see her, even though she’d known exactly where she was sitting during the whole game. Whenever she’d sensed a break in the action, she’d snuck a peek in Blaise’s direction, trying to figure out who the woman sitting on Blaise’s right side was. The three of them—Blaise, Abby, and the mystery woman—were obviously together. But just friends? Had to be. Blaise had said no girlfriend. That didn’t mean no dating, though, did it? That scenario had niggled away uncomfortably at her mind as she watched the game.
Blaise was alone now, and as Grady absorbed the impact of her suddenly being right there in front of her just a few feet away, the world went silent. The lingering sounds of celebration, car horns honking as vehicles jostled to get out of the parking lot, and the occasional shout from the football field all faded away. Nothing registered but the thundering of her heart and the roaring in her ears. A totally new, somewhat mystifying, and downright fascinating development.
“Hey, Blaise,” Courtney said as Blaise stopped a row below them, her head just at Grady’s level.
They should have been looking into each other’s eyes, but Blaise focused past Grady to the teenagers behind her. “You three want a ride to the party?”
They looked at one another, and Margie spoke up. “We could wait for Dave, but you know he’ll be an hour while they review the game. So yeah, that would be cool.”
“Great. I’m in the lot, the closest corner to the field. You know the car. I’ll wait for you there.”
For a second, Grady thought Blaise was going to turn around and walk away without even acknowledging her. Invisibility was a rare sensation for her. She didn’t like it. “Hi, Blaise. Great game, huh?” She flinched inwardly. Not the greatest line of all time, but if it got Blaise to give her a look, she’d take it. Somehow, that connection felt important.
Blaise’s expression didn’t change for a second, as if she was considering whether to stop or keep going, and then she smiled. Her smile changed everything and made every lame line in the world worth trying, just for a glimpse of that light in her eyes.
Grady held her breath, as if the next words were the most important ones she would ever hear.
“It was. Terrific.” For a few seconds that stretched to eternity, Blaise held Grady’s gaze. Her eyes were not blue. They were what blue should be but rarely was—vibrant and warm and crystalline bright.
When Blaise glanced at Courtney, Grady felt the link between them snap with the sharp pang of a broken bone.
Blaise’s smile shadowed as she said to Courtney, “Good way to introduce her to all the excitement around here.”
Courtney laughed. “It’s a start. Next up is the after-game party. That ought to really cement the town’s reputation as a jumping place.”
“No doubt,” Blaise said with a hint of coolness returning to her tone.
Grady winced inwardly. No way was Blaise not going to think she and Courtney were together in some way. Blaise had to know that Courtney was into women, and she definitely knew Grady was. Anyone would get four out of two and two under those circumstances. She could hardly blurt out, It’s not a date, we’ve just met. That wouldn’t work, considering she hadn’t known Blaise all that much longer, even though every cell of her being lit up at the mere thought of her. Actually being near her was excruciating in a very good way.
“Court’s been kind enough to introduce me to the local entertainment.” Grady instantly wanted to close her eyes and rewind the whole conversation, because that didn’t come out all wrong at all.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll have a great time. I’ve never been to anything out at the Homestead that wasn’t fabulous.” Blaise motioned to the kids. “Meet me at the car. We’ve got room for a few more if you find anyone else along the way who needs a lift.”
With that she turned, walked down the nearly empty bleachers, and disappeared.
“Sorry I didn’t actually check with you about the party,” Court said. “I just assumed you’d want to go. Really, though, you should. It’ll be fun, and I guarantee great food.”
“Is food the primary source of bribe around here?” Grady asked, still off-balance from the less than stellar exchange with Blaise. When had she gotten so lame around women?
“Usually works, and it’s an innocent vice.”
Grady grinned. Time to get back on her game—at least acting like it. “I’m not so sure. I’ve only been here a few days and I’m going to have to start running a whole lot more than I have been.”
Courtney gave her a slow once-over. “I dunno. You look pretty…fit to me.”
One of the kids behind them gave a little snort.
Courtney laughed again, totally confident and amused. She held out her hand to Grady. “Come on. Let’s go before we end up behind twenty cars and can’t find anyplace to park when we get there except in the middle of the cornfield.”
Grady took her hand because it would’ve been churlish not to, and Courtney pulled her to her feet, gave her hand a little squeeze, and let go. The teens trooped down behind them.
Halfway to the lot, a dark-haired boy in pale blue shorts, a red T-shi
rt, and sockless running shoes called out, “Hey, Margie,” and jogged over to join the others.
“Hi, Court,” he said and nodded to Grady. “Hi. I’m Blake.”
“Grady McClure.”
Blake broke into a blazing smile and stuck out his hand. “You’re one of the new staff. I’m an extern in the ER. My mom’s—”
“The boss.” Grady shook his hand. “I see the resemblance now.”
Blake’s smile was shy and maybe a bit pleased. “Well, I hope I get to work with you.”
“Suck-up,” Margie muttered just loud enough to be heard, and Blake laughed.
“Margie’s an extern too. We usually share shifts.”
Grady grinned. “I’m sure we’ll spend plenty of time together.”
Blake tossed an arm around Tim’s shoulders and looped the other around Taylor. Margie walked backward as the four drifted over to where Blaise leaned against her Suburban, watching them with an amused smile as they all drew near.
Courtney’s small yellow sports car was parked not far away, and as the kids piled into the Suburban, Grady felt Blaise’s eyes on her back as she and Courtney waved and kept going, together, to Courtney’s car. When she looked back, though, Blaise had gotten into the Suburban and closed the door.
Dismissed.
“Did you forget something?” Court asked, and Grady realized she’d stopped walking.
Yes. I forgot to say any of the things that mattered. Like, I can’t stop thinking about you, and I really, really want to see you…alone…again, and would you mind very much if I kissed you?
“Nope,” Grady said, picking up her pace and climbing into the passenger seat of the sports coupe. “All good.”
Courtney pulled out before Blaise and a line of slower moving vehicles, and once they’d cleared the congestion right around the high school and reached the two-lane leaving town, she let the little car loose. Grady powered her windows down, Courtney did the same, and they zoomed through the night. Cool air tinged with the scent of hay and corn and cows whipped through the small interior. A few miles from town, the inky sky blanketed them in black velvet and wisps of moonlight. They were alone, not just in the close interior of the car, but alone in the whole universe, it seemed. Grady couldn’t help notice the sense of intimacy and anticipation that wrapped them in the night.
“So,” Courtney said as she passed a slow-moving vehicle without reducing her speed and pulled back onto her side of the highway in a smooth, unhurried move, “what I was saying earlier, about wanting your company?”
Grady pressed both hands flat on her thighs. She never liked having these conversations about expectations, although she always did. Usually she started them. “Yeah?”
“I meant that.”
“Okay.” Grady waited, noting the past tense.
“But now I’m thinking,” Courtney said, turning her head to glance in Grady’s direction. She only lingered for a second or two before looking back at the road, but in the reflected light off the dash, her expression was clear. She’d gone from open and friendly and casual to intense and seductive. “I think I might like something a little more personal.”
“Courtney…”
“Not tonight. I’m not asking for a hookup.” Court laughed. “I’m way past that, believe me. And I’m not getting those vibes from you, anyhow. But I’d like to see you again, not just as friends.”
Grady let out a breath. “Can we slow things down just a bit? There’s the little matter of you being a resident and me being staff.”
“Oh, come on. I’m twenty-seven. You’re what, thirty-one?”
“Almost thirty-two.”
“That makes us grown-ups. You’re not my supervisor or the program director. I suppose you could get me in some kind of trouble if you really tried, but”—she lifted a shoulder—“I’m kind of, you know, the hometown girl, and it gives me an edge.”
Grady laughed. “What you are is very sure of yourself.”
“Okay, that too.” Courtney’s smile was visible even though she still watched the road as they shot down the highway. “So let’s just be adult. Do I hear a maybe?”
“For tonight, let’s keep it the way we started.”
“All right. For tonight.”
Court turned left onto a dirt road that, Grady realized after a few seconds when they rounded a bend, was actually an approach road to a rambling four-story farmhouse with dozens of glowing windows nestled in a semicircle of huge trees. Cars parked two deep beside a big barn silhouetted in moonlight a bit past the house, and lined either side of the road, which she guessed was a driveway, although she’d never seen anything so long considered a driveway.
For tonight, Court had said. That was about as far ahead as she could plan. In fact, her life seemed to change hour by hour, and wasn’t that totally strange. A month ago, even, she wouldn’t have hesitated to say yes to Court’s offer.
She had no real reason to hesitate now, and she’d always followed her instincts where women were concerned. Courtney was exactly the kind of woman she usually pursued. And she liked her. And it’d been a long time. All perfectly good reasons. She should have said yes. Weirdly, she wasn’t sorry. And she had plenty of time to change her mind.
Chapter Fourteen
Blaise pulled out of the parking lot three cars behind Courtney’s very recognizable yellow Miata. From the vantage point of her high-riding SUV, she couldn’t actually see Grady and Courtney, but she could imagine them, inches apart, enjoying the first stages of getting to know one another. It might’ve been a long time since she’d actually experienced that herself, but she certainly remembered the exhilaration and excitement that the promise of someone new brought with them. Never mind that was exactly how she’d felt after a silly cup of coffee and a doughnut with Grady earlier that morning. She’d felt that same rush then and spent the hours after pretending that she hadn’t. But that was on her. Maybe she couldn’t always control what she felt, but she certainly could control what she did about it—which did not include chasing after the source of the excitement without considering the consequences. That was a lesson learned long ago.
Once on the two lane, she fell well behind the Miata and soon lost sight of it as Courtney sped away. No surprise there. If she had a car like that, she’d be driving with the wind as well. All the same, she wasn’t that far behind when she pulled down the long drive to the Homestead. Courtney and Grady were just getting out of the Miata, which Courtney had adroitly wedged between a couple of larger trucks pulled off on the side of the drive. They were walking close together, but at least they weren’t holding hands.
Blaise mentally slapped herself in the forehead. She really had to stop regressing to the stage where hormones dictated her actions. Hadn’t she put that well behind her after Taylor came along?
She pulled over adjacent to the curving stone walk that wended through the sloping lawn encircling the house. A dozen people exited cars and headed for the back porch, the unofficial main door.
Turning on the seat, she said, “All right, you know the drill. If you plan on going elsewhere later, you’ll need to check in with all parents. I’ll come back and pick you up if you’re calling it a night, or I can drop you off at your next destination. But if it’s a house party somewhere else—no deal. It needs to be at one of your places.”
“Mom,” Taylor said with exaggerated exasperation, “we’ve heard this before. We all know.”
She couldn’t see Taylor’s face very well in the shadowy back seat, but she could feel the eye roll.
“Besides,” Margie said, reaching over the seat to pluck at Blaise’s sleeve, “you’re coming in now, right? You have to get something to eat at least.”
“Well,” Blaise said hesitantly, wondering just exactly how much she didn’t want to see any more of Courtney and Grady together. As soon as she thought it, she knew that was ridiculous. Absolutely irrational knee-jerk reaction to a situation that not only had nothing to do with her, but might not even be what she th
ought.
Ha. As if it was going to be something else. Really.
“Well,” she said again, still weighing practicality versus potential discomfort. She was pretty hungry, and was she really willing to put herself out just so she could avoid what she couldn’t change anyhow? She’d come a lot further than that, hadn’t she? She jumped at a rap on her half-open side window and twisted around.
Flann peered in. “Y’all coming in, or what?”
Blaise decided she was far outnumbered and couldn’t even come up with a good reason to herself, let alone her friends, as to why she wouldn’t go in. She didn’t have to stay. She wouldn’t stay. With any luck, Ida had made cornbread, and one slice of that and maybe, with even more luck, some chili or mac and cheese, and she could sneak away. Have a cold beer. Deal.
She cracked her door, Flann stepped back, and she jumped out as the teens piled out behind her. The kids took off as she fell in beside Flann.
“How you doing, Flann,” she said.
“Great. Where’s Abby? I thought she was with you.”
“She was supposed to text you,” Blaise said as they walked around to the back porch. No one ever used front doors, all of which opened into formal living areas that also didn’t get all that much use, except sometimes on holidays or when distant family or casual acquaintances came to visit. But for everyday use, for family and friends, the kitchen—inevitably accessed by the back door—was the heart of the house. The Riverses’ back porch was as long and wide as some front porches, without the formality of colonnades and elaborate woodworking. Plain wide plank floor, unadorned posts, and a sturdy railing just made for behinds to rest upon—and showing the decades of wear to prove it. A number of rockers, other comfortable chairs, and side tables were scattered about, many of them already filled with folks.
“I didn’t get anything from her,” Flann said, after pulling her phone from her back pocket and checking the screen.
“I’m not surprised,” Blaise said. “You know how bad the cell reception is in that part of town. Anyway, Marcus Winston’s mother fell, and he contacted Abby to come in and see her.”