by Harper Bliss
Naomi stared at Eileen, a smile slowly forming on her face. “Well, we got that out of the way. Both of us bumping into our exes and being put on the spot.” She laughed. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough culture for one evening. Would you like to head back to my apartment for a drink? Or tea or coffee?” Naomi’s eyes fell to the glass in Eileen’s hand, still untouched.
Chapter Six
“Drink?” Naomi asked. She leaned against the kitchen counter as Eileen struggled out of her coat. “Wine? Beer? Water, perhaps?”
“Sure.” Eileen managed to dispose of her coat and, one-handedly, draped it over a chair. “It’s not as if I’m driving anywhere tonight.” She gave Naomi a hint of a smile.
Naomi remembered Eileen’s untouched glass of wine at the gallery. She was also amazed that Eileen had so easily accepted her invitation for a nightcap. Yet, part of her had also expected her to say yes. Something in the glint of her eyes had predicted it—had, perhaps, even given Naomi the courage to ask.
“I’ll have a beer, please,” Eileen said, briefly glancing at Naomi before casting her gaze about Naomi’s living room again.
“Coming right up.” Only the other day, Jane had been pleading for Naomi to forgive her, right where Eileen was standing now. It was strange to have another woman in her home so quickly.
Eileen was inspecting the antique silver teapot that stood in the middle of the dining table.
“Here you go.” Naomi walked up to her and offered her the bottle of beer.
Eileen turned to her with her good arm and accepted it. She held up the bottle and Naomi clinked her own against it.
“What are we toasting?” Emboldened by the very fact that Eileen was having a beer in her apartment, Naomi looked her straight in the eye.
“Good question.” Eileen smiled, then averted her gaze. “I love your place. It’s so cozy.”
“Thanks.” Naomi headed to the couch. “Are you staying with your family while you’re in town?” She leaned back and watched Eileen, who apparently didn’t much feel like sitting down.
“Goodness, no. I wouldn’t survive two days in the same house as my mom, let alone two months. I’ve rented an apartment close to the hospital so I can get to my physical therapy sessions easily.” She tilted her head back, exposing her long, delicate neck, and swallowed a tiny sip of beer.
Naomi reached for her phone and turned on Spotify. She glanced up at Eileen and searched for the song that had been playing in her head ever since she’d learned her name.
When the first notes started to play, Eileen turned toward her, a crooked grin on her face. “Ah, that song. The very bane of my existence.” She finally sat in the armchair opposite the couch. “Isn’t ‘Come on, Eileen’ from way before you were even born?” She fixed her green eyes on Naomi.
Naomi returned her gaze. She knew what Eileen was really asking. “Some songs are timeless classics.”
Eileen chuckled. “How old are you, Naomi?”
“Twenty-seven.” Naomi rose from the couch.
“Twenty-seven,” Eileen repeated and gave a throaty laugh. “I was correct. That song came out quite a few years before you were a twinkle in your parents’ eyes.”
“That may be so.” Naomi reached for her phone again and turned up the volume. “But that doesn’t make it any less great for dancing.” She rose from her seat and swayed her hips.
Eileen shook her head. “Twenty-seven-year-olds do have funny ideas in their heads these days.”
“Come on,” Naomi reached out her hand, “Eileen.” She swung her hips gently from left to right. “Dance with me.”
“I’m not much of a dancer. Besides,” Eileen said, “I’m trying to think of a song with Naomi in the title so I can avenge myself later.”
“No need for that.” Naomi jigged a little closer to Eileen, her hand still outstretched. The chorus of the song started again and Naomi sang along, coaxing Eileen to get up again.
At last, Eileen allowed herself to be pulled out of the chair. She stood still for a moment, getting rid of the bottle of beer, of which she had barely taken a sip, before starting to sway to the music along with Naomi.
Naomi had disclosed her age, but she still had no idea how old Eileen actually was. Definitely somewhere in her forties, Naomi guessed, but she would only know for sure if she asked her. But first, more dancing—because what did it matter, anyway?
The song was about to end. Naomi inched a little closer to Eileen, their hips softly bumping together.
Eileen lost her balance and her right side landed against Naomi’s chest.
Reflexively, Naomi wrapped her arms around Eileen to steady her as well as to regain her own balance.
The song ended and they stood face-to-face in the silence that followed. Naomi didn’t think. She just did what came naturally now that she had this gorgeous woman in her arms. She leaned in and planted her lips on Eileen’s. Her arms drew Eileen a little closer and soon she felt Eileen yield in her embrace.
Their lips opened as the kiss grew more fevered, and Naomi brought a hand to Eileen’s cheek. They broke their lip-lock for an instant, gazing into each other’s eyes, only for their lips to meet again in another passionate kiss.
Eileen’s left arm snaked up Naomi’s shoulder, caressing her neck. Then Naomi felt Eileen stiffen in her embrace.
Eileen had a funny look in her eyes. “I’m forty-nine,” she said. “Which makes this a bit ludicrous.” She took a step back, breaking all physical contact between them.
“Does it, really?” Naomi asked. “Because I don’t think so.”
“You kissed me before you knew my age.” Eileen leaned against the armrest of the chair she’d sat in earlier.
Naomi shook her head. “I would have kissed you either way.”
“Easy enough to say.” Eileen narrowed her eyes.
With Eileen in front of her like that, her delicious lips a little swollen and a pink flush on her cheeks, Naomi couldn’t care less that Eileen was almost twice her age. She just wanted to kiss her again—as quickly as possible.
“Well then, now that I know, why don’t I kiss you again?” Naomi drew up her eyebrows.
Eileen’s lips curved into a wide smile. “I’m not sure. I feel like I should be the wiser one.”
“This has nothing to do with wisdom or age or anything like that.” Naomi scooted closer, gently putting a hand on Eileen’s shoulder. “This is just two women meeting and… giving in to the desperate urge to kiss each other. Again and again.” With that, she slanted forward and first kissed Eileen on the cheek. She planted another light kiss just above the corner of her mouth, then found her lips again.
Eileen’s lips opened up to hers eagerly, not displaying any of the doubts she had just put into words.
Naomi pressed herself against Eileen, feeling her warmth radiate onto her body. She could kiss Eileen for a good while longer, but she wanted to check in with her first. “Just to clarify, that was me kissing you knowing exactly how old you are.” She kept her hips pressed against Eileen’s.
Eileen chuckled briefly only to break out into a deep sigh. Her cheeks were still flushed but the eagerness had left her eyes.
“We don’t have to kiss. We could just talk,” Naomi said, but didn’t move an inch.
“Look, Naomi, my life’s very complicated. And I’m just passing through Derby. I have no intention of staying here—and certainly not of starting an affair with a twenty-seven-year-old.” She shook her head.
Naomi did step back now. She tried to ignore the sting of rejection. “I just figured you could do with someone to talk to.” She looked around for her previously discarded bottle of beer.
“I certainly don’t need your pity,” Eileen snapped.
“Good thing I’m not the type to pity people then.”
“Ha, says the girl who volunteers at the children’s cancer ward.”
“That has absolutely nothing to do with pity. Those kids are the most courageous people I’ve ever
met.” Naomi fixed her gaze firmly on Eileen. “In fact, they could teach you a thing or two.”
“Excuse me?” Eileen pushed herself up. “Who are you to tell me I’m not brave?” She walked over to where her coat was hanging. “What does a twenty-seven-year-old who has spent her entire life in Derby know about bravery?”
Naomi ignored Eileen’s snide remark. “You haven’t even had the guts to tell me what happened to you. What happened to your arm?”
“Maybe that’s because I only met you about two minutes ago.” Eileen snagged her coat off the chair.
“It sure was long enough for you to let me kiss you though.” Naomi regretted her harsh words instantly.
“That was clearly a mistake.” Eileen looked at her.
To Naomi’s surprise, it wasn’t only frustration that she saw in her glance.
Naomi hurried toward Eileen. She didn’t touch her, just stood close enough to get her point across. “I may only be twenty-seven and have never left the country, but I’ve been through a thing or two. You don’t have to leave Derby to witness how cruel life can be—nor to see how strong and courageous even little kids can be.”
Naomi scanned Eileen’s face, hoping against hope.
“You’re a nice girl, Naomi. And I like you, but this—” She shrugged. “This can’t be a thing. Do us both a favor, and forget about that kiss. Pretend it never happened. That’s what I’ll be doing.” Eileen turned around and walked out.
For the second time that week Naomi stood watching her front door close. She ignored the lump in her throat and the unmistakable knot that started coiling in her stomach. She could see Eileen’s pain—it was obvious—but clearly the woman didn’t want to be helped. And maybe she was right. Maybe Naomi should forget about that kiss as soon as she possibly could.
But Eileen’s perfume still hung in the air, and the bottle of beer she’d drunk from still stood on the table.
“Snap out of it,” Naomi told herself. Eileen certainly was right about one thing, they had only met about two minutes ago. For that reason alone, that lump in her throat was ridiculous. A good night’s sleep was all she needed. And tomorrow, she’d get started on the Thanksgiving decorations at the hospital.
She picked up Eileen’s almost-full beer bottle and knocked back its contents. Then she tossed it in the bin and swiftly got rid of the last reminder of Eileen.
Chapter Seven
The church bells started to clang at six in the morning and Eileen groaned and yanked a down pillow over her head. The most infuriating part was they didn’t ring six times to mark the hour, but eighteen. Half a dozen intrusions wouldn’t be such a hard thing to ignore. But eighteen tolls every time the clock struck six in the morning, noon and six in the evening were intrusive. She couldn’t stop herself from fully waking. And once awake, Eileen wasn’t the type who could roll over and drift back into dreamworld.
She didn’t have anywhere to be until many hours later and after last night’s restless sleep, after a handful of nights of barely sleeping, she’d hoped to stay in bed until at least eight. The same hope she’d had every morning all week, but the bells had other ideas. The goddamned bells.
She was supposed to be convalescing after all and wasn’t sleep supposed to be important to the healing process? Someone needed to tell the priest. Or God.
Even though the bells had stilled minutes earlier, the sound still reverberated in her mind. She clicked the Spotify app on her iPhone, not caring what song played, just as long as it wasn’t church music.
Propped up on her back with the covers yanked up almost to her chin, she contemplated her agenda for the day and deflated when she could only conjure up one pressing appointment: physical therapy with Mack. There was no way she’d miss that, even if the man insisted on asinine exercises that Eileen couldn’t decide were helping or not. At least they gave her a purpose. Something to channel her mind on and not…
Eileen shifted her mind like a car from first to second gear to contemplate what had become of her. For as long as she could remember, she’d always dashed from one assignment to the next, cursing there were never enough hours in the day and not enough days in the week. And now all she had to do that day was a thirty-minute physical therapy appointment that wouldn’t even cause her to break into a sweat. How had this happened?
“You got old, that’s what happened,” Eileen said aloud, her voice echoing in the darkness of the room.
Maybe not too old, because Naomi had shown an interest in her.
Or, perhaps the young woman simply pitied her and trying to seduce Eileen was her good deed for the holidays. Naomi had said she didn’t do pity, but how could Eileen trust someone so young whom she barely knew?
Was that why Eileen had put on the brakes, sensing what she thought was Naomi’s true motivation? Had Eileen suspected it would only be a pity fuck, but couldn’t bring herself to call that out? Instead she’d drawn attention to the bigger elephant in the room, so laser-focused on the obvious, in order to stop what could have happened.
What could have happened, though?
What would it be like to feel Naomi’s skin against her own? She groaned, mentally kicking herself. What forty-nine-year-old in her right mind wouldn’t want to sleep with a much younger gorgeous woman?
Would it have been so bad to jump into bed with Naomi no matter her reasons? Who cared if it had been a pity fuck? It would have made Eileen feel alive again, which was something missing from her life, not only since the event.
Naomi clearly had wanted to. But, even if it hadn’t been a pity fuck for her, it still wasn’t a good idea. Twenty-somethings hadn’t learned enough about life to know it was best to tread carefully before bounding into the unknown and messing with affairs of the heart. It’d never worked all that well for Eileen in the past and frankly, she’d given up on relationships. Way too much trouble. Yes, she’d been right to stop things before it got out of hand.
Before another thought could ping-pong through her mind, the song “Come on Eileen” started on her phone.
Eileen groaned once again.
How could she stop thinking about Naomi if everything made Eileen think of her?
Unlike Naomi, Eileen had real-world problems. Those always stopped frivolous things in their tracks. The woman has silk flowers in an antique silver teapot as a centerpiece on her table. Who does that?
She should get out of bed. Right this second. Stop dillydallying, Eileen Makenna.
Was Naomi still in a warm bed? Eileen ran a finger over her lips. Naomi’s were so soft. Sweet. Sensual.
Was it wrong for Eileen to want to get to know Naomi more before… anything happened? What drove her? Made her tick? Turned her on? Eileen’s hand traveled down her front, stopping at the waistband of her pajama bottoms. This was a bad idea. Horrendous, even.
Eileen had come home to recover, not to get involved with a woman. Even a casual fling could distract her from focusing on her recovery, threatening her livelihood.
Besides, after last Friday, Naomi probably never wanted to see Eileen again.
“Get your lazy ass out of bed!” Eileen yanked the covers away with a swoop of her left hand. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she straightened her right arm as far as it would go, trying to wiggle the fingers. Eileen found Mack’s exercises silly, but she understood the need to create a new pathway to get them to cooperate.
She should apologize, at least, to Naomi for the way she’d stormed out. Then again, Naomi had started something she shouldn’t have. Eileen had been right in stopping them from making a mistake. Someone had to keep her wits about her.
In the bathroom, standing in front of the sink, she smacked her lips and focused on the task at hand. Morning breath was one of her least favorite things, and she wasn’t the type to have a sip of coffee or bite of food until after brushing her teeth and gargling with mouthwash. Even on remote assignments with no bathrooms within miles, she’d always carried a travel size toothbrush, toothpaste, and Listerine. Nothing would s
top her from having minty-fresh breath.
Eileen reached for her toothbrush with her left hand, and sighed. It was such a simple thing she did at least twice a day—usually three. Again, she attempted to straighten her right arm out completely but failed. “But no, you have to complicate the shit out of it.”
Was she losing her grip on reality? Talking to her useless arm as if it was alive with a mind of its own?
She placed her toothbrush, with the head dangling over the edge of the sink, secured it with a folded towel to stop it from rolling to the side or turning over completely. Using her good hand, she flipped open the cap of the toothpaste, and applied a dollop onto the bristles. It had taken her some time to work out the mechanics of this routine. Julia had come up with the bright idea of pouring the Listerine into a container with a loose-fitting stopper that was easily yanked out with one hand.
Eileen hated the everyday rituals that were now a burden. How had this happened to her? One step from being a helpless invalid and she wasn’t even fifty yet? Close enough, though.
Naomi’s words about the children in the cancer ward being the bravest people she’d met rattled in her mind. It was commendable, really, that Naomi volunteered. Unlike Jane who pretended to have an understanding about tragedies in the world.
Her thoughts flitted to the children in remote places around the globe she’d photographed in the worst of situations, the children desperately trying to stay alive in war zones. Did they even have toothbrushes?
Eileen stared at her reflection in the mirror. “You hate pity, so stop feeling so fucking sorry for yourself, Eileen Makenna.”
Over an hour later, Eileen nursed her third cup of coffee at the table by the window overlooking the hill. Some trees still had red, orange, and yellow leaves, with a speckling of snow. Clapboard houses were randomly tucked into the foliage, much like you’d see on a thousand-piece puzzle depicting a charming town along the East Coast. But this wasn’t a puzzle. This was where Eileen lived now or at least where she was staying until... if she recovered. Mack had said it was possible to still see improvement years from now, which he’d meant as good news. Eileen could only focus on the years part of the statement. Years…