by Jae
“You’re not everyone, Leo. We were best friends.”
“Yeah, but this is your business. You need to make a living, and I can imagine that it’s not easy to stay afloat in such a small town.”
“I’m doing great,” Ash said.
“Well, I’m not exactly a starving artist either. I can afford to pay for the flowers, you know?”
“This isn’t about money. Let me do this for you and your father.”
Leo hesitated. Since she had left Fair Oaks, she had learned that most seemingly selfless favors like that came with a hefty price tag later. People always wanted something in return, even when they pretended otherwise. But maybe it wasn’t always this way. It wasn’t with Holly.
“Thank you,” she finally said. “That’s very generous of you.”
Ash reached out and squeezed her arm. “If there’s anything else I can do for you…anything at all…”
There was something in her voice and in her eyes that made Leo wonder if that offer included a far more personal form of comfort than flowers. To her own surprise, she wasn’t tempted to find out.
“Thanks. Will I see you at the funeral?” With Ashley, she meant the question exactly as she had asked it, not hoping for an earlier time to see her.
Ash’s hand was still on her arm. “I’ll be there.”
“See you on Monday, then.” Gently, Leo freed herself of Ash’s grip and walked to the door without looking back.
Holly walked into her house and went straight to her laptop, which she had left on the couch on Thursday evening. It felt like weeks, not barely two days ago, and she hadn’t fully processed everything that had happened since then.
As soon as her laptop was open, she clicked on the Skype icon in the task bar and logged in.
Meg should be back from her business trip by now, but that didn’t mean she was hanging out online.
Please be home. Please be home.
She scrolled through her online contacts. A green tick was displayed next to Meg’s avatar, indicating that she was online.
Yes! Hopefully, Meg would be by her computer. She clicked on the contact and then on the call icon.
On the second ring, Meg’s smiling face popped up on her laptop screen. Her hair, which was always carefully spiked, stuck to her head on one side.
Normally, Holly would have teased her friend about losing the battle with her hairbrush, but “normal” had gone out of the window the moment Leo had returned to Fair Oaks.
“Hi, Nerdy Nurse,” Meg said.
Holly didn’t bother with pleasantries. “I did something really stupid,” she blurted out.
Meg groaned. “God, please don’t tell me you got back together with that closeted flower girl!”
“What? No. It has nothing to do with her.”
“Phew.” Meg wiped imaginary sweat off her brow. “What is it, then?”
How could she sum up what had happened during the last few days? “Leo’s father died yesterday, and I got her down from the roof and then I slept with her, and now I don’t—”
“Wait a minute!” If she were a cartoon character, Meg’s eyes would have bulged out of their sockets. “You did what?”
Holly mentally reviewed what she had just said. “Oh. Oh no. No, not like that. We slept—just slept—in the same bed. She didn’t want to be alone, and I…I wanted to be there for her in whatever way she needed.”
“And Leo would be…who? Jeez, Holly, I go on a business trip for two weeks, and I don’t know what’s what in your life anymore.” Meg waved her arm like a drowning person wanting someone to throw her a lifeline. “Catch me up, please. Leo…Is that the woman who owns the bakery?”
“Bakery? No, that’s my friend Sasha. Leo is…” Holly stopped herself. Should she really tell Meg? Well, she trusted her, and it wasn’t as if Leo’s full name was a big secret. It was even on Wikipedia. Still, she fixed a gaze on Meg that would have terrified a hardened criminal. “This has to stay between you and me, okay? You can’t tell a soul.”
Meg’s eyes widened. “Not even Jo?”
“Um, you can tell her, but no one else. And tell Jo to keep quiet about it too.”
“O-kay.” Meg drew out the word carefully. “Now I’m almost afraid of what you have to tell me. I don’t have to sell a kidney to bail you out of jail or something like that, do I?”
Holly shook her head. “It’s not a kidney thing. It’s more of a heart thing.”
“You’re in love with this mysterious Leo?” Meg’s voice came out in a squeak.
“No, no, no. Not love.” It wasn’t…couldn’t be, right? Not this fast. “But…”
Meg held up both hands. “I really think you should start at the beginning. Who is this Leo? Does she live in Fair Oaks?”
“No, and that’s part of the problem. She…” Holly lowered her voice, even though no one could overhear her. “Her full name is Leontyne Jenna Blake. She is—”
“Holy fucking unicorn!” Meg screamed so loudly that Holly turned down the volume on the laptop and shushed her. “Jenna Blake? The Jenna Blake?”
“The one and only.”
Meg inflated her cheeks and then blew out a breath. “So you and Jenna Blake are…?”
“Not me and Jenna. Me and Leo.”
A blur of motion filled the screen as Meg waved her hand. “So you and Leo are…? You became close? Like, romantically close?”
Holly bit her lip and nodded.
“Wow.” Meg sank against the back of her chair. “How did that happen?”
“I have no idea. I didn’t even like her when she first got here. I thought… Well, I assumed a lot of stupid things about her. But once we got past that, we started spending time together.” Holly took a deep breath and told her everything that had happened between her and Leo in the past four weeks—their argument in the rain-pelted Jeep, the evening at the bar with the gang, going on runs and getting scones together, nearly cuddling on the bed while watching Central Precinct, taking Leo to see the puppies and kittens, playing the piano together, and climbing up to Leo’s secret spot on the roof.
She couldn’t help smiling through most of her story. These were all happy memories, she realized—the happiest she had made in some time. When she came to the point where she had told Leo they couldn’t be together, all she could think of was the look in Leo’s eyes. It reflected the pain she felt herself.
“Then her father died, and everything else took a backseat,” she finally ended her story.
“Understandably. Is she okay?”
“I hope she will be,” Holly said.
“Are you okay?”
Holly ran her fingers through her hair. It didn’t help to sort out her chaotic thoughts. “Yeah. Kind of. It’s just a lot to process.”
“Hell yeah! I never thought you’d get involved with Jenna Blake!”
“We’re not involved. Not really. Like I just said, I ended it before…” Before what? Before she could hurt me? She put that thought aside for now. “And she’s not Jenna to me. She’s different, Meg. Different than how I thought she’d be. Different than Dana and Ash. She’s smart, considerate, funny, and generous.” Holly realized she was babbling and snapped her mouth shut.
“Does she know?”
The question didn’t need a qualifier. Not between them. “Yes. I told her when she first asked me out. Didn’t I mention it?”
“Nope. Apparently, you skipped the interesting part,” Meg said. “So, how did she react?”
Holly sighed. “You know how it goes. They tell you they are fine with it…until they aren’t and start to resent you.”
“Is that what happened—or what you assume will happen?”
“It’s what I know would happen if I got involved with her,” Holly said. “It happened with Dana and Ashley too.”
“You just said she
’s different from them.”
Trust Meg to beat her with her own words. “I thought you of all people would tell me it’s not worth the heartbreak and that I’m fine on my own.”
Meg gave her an impish grin. “Nah. If you want the stay-away-from-her speech, you’ve come to the wrong person. Jo always calls me the most romantic aromantic in the world.” The grin faded away, and she studied Holly with an earnest expression. “Seriously, though, the way you talk about her, it makes me think there’s something there. Why don’t you give it a chance?”
“Because it won’t work.”
“And you know that how?”
“We’re too different. I’m ace; she isn’t. I’m a nurse; she’s a superstar. I live in Fair Oaks; she lives in New York. Do I need to go on?”
Meg snorted. “You think you’re an unlikely pair? I’ve got you beat by a country mile.”
“Um, you do?”
“Sure! Hello?” Meg pointed at herself. “Aromantic, asexual, a total chatterbox, and as Irish as a pint of Guinness.” She waved her hand toward where Holly knew Jo’s room was. “Romantic, not on the ace spectrum, taciturn, and Mexican American. How’s that for differences?”
All true, and yet her friends just seemed to fit into each other’s lives so perfectly. “Yeah, but it’s not the same.”
“Why? Because our relationship is not romantic, so it can’t possibly be as important?” A look of hurt flashed across Meg’s face.
“No,” Holly said hastily. “No, of course not. I’m sorry, Mordin. You know I don’t believe that at all. I just… Ugh. I don’t know. This situation has me all messed up.” She scrubbed both hands over her face and then dropped them to her lap.
Meg’s expression softened. She leaned closer to the webcam. “When I asked Jo if she wanted to be my queerplatonic partner, I was scared out of my mind. I thought she would think it was weird or not real or something. Even when she said yes, I kept doubting her…doubting us. I thought she’d leave me as soon as she met a hot woman who could fall in love with her. I never thought it would work in the long run.” Her grin reached from one ear to the other. “Now look at us. Five years later and we couldn’t be happier. In fact…we’ll start looking at houses on Monday. We want to buy something in the burbs.”
“Wow, Meg! That’s great.” Holly beamed at her friend. “I’m so happy for you guys.”
“Thanks.” Even the less-than-stellar quality of their Skype connection couldn’t hide that Meg was flushed with happiness. Her eyes shone.
In moments like this, Holly struggled to understand how her friends could insist they were not a traditional couple and that while they loved each other, they weren’t in love. It helped her understand how people who weren’t asexual themselves often had a hard time understanding her sexual orientation.
In the end, it didn’t matter whether she fully understood it or not, as long as it worked for her friends—and it clearly did. But what did that mean for her and Leo?
“So,” she finally said, “what’s your advice, Dear Abby?”
Meg laughed. “Why do people keep asking the aromantic for relationship advice?”
“Because you’re so good at it.”
A snort escaped Meg. “I take my wisdom from video games.”
“Oh, that reminds me.” Holly reached for the card she kept on the coffee table, ready to send out in time for Meg’s birthday next week. “I got you the autograph you wanted.”
Meg rubbed her hands together. “Great. I wanted to ask you about it, but with my business trip and all, I forgot.”
Holly opened the card and held it into the camera. “Can you read it?”
Meg’s forehead furrowed in concentration as she leaned toward the screen. “Happy birthday and many butterfly kisses,” she read out loud and wrinkled her nose. “Not that I want those. You can have them.”
A blush made Holly’s cheeks burn as the memory of the two kisses she had shared with Leo flashed through her—and nearly kissing her again earlier, in the Jeep. If she had ever needed proof that sensual attraction existed, she had it now. Not kissing someone had never been so hard, but she couldn’t keep giving Leo mixed signals, or she would hurt her even more.
“Oooh!” Meg let out a wolf whistle. “Looks like you already did! You really did skip the interesting parts of your tale.”
“Read the PS,” Holly said in a stern tone and raised the card to the webcam again to hide her blush.
“PS,” Meg read what was below Leo’s signature, “Triss is way cooler than Yen.” She huffed. “Ha! I take it back. Don’t get involved with her. She clearly has no taste in women.”
“Hey, she likes me,” Holly protested.
Meg sobered. “Okay, she has no taste in fictional women. But if she’s still interested in you after finding out you won’t jump into bed with her and after you tried to discourage her at every turn, I think you’ve got a winner on your hands and should give her a chance. That’s my sage advice.”
Could she be right? Part of Holly latched on to that bit of hope and didn’t want to let go, but another part was still afraid to get hurt again.
She glanced at the clock in the task bar. Leo had probably ordered the flower arrangements by now and was back home. “I should go check on her.”
“Yeah, you do that. Keep me up to date on how you two are doing, okay?”
“Will do. And Meg? Thank you.”
Meg grinned. “You can thank me by not throwing the bridal bouquet in my direction at your wedding.”
“Wedding?” Holly spluttered. “There’ll be no wedding.”
Still grinning, Meg waved and ended the call.
Chapter 18
All this time, Leo had avoided her father, but now she found herself just as uncomfortable around her mother and wanting to do the same. They sat next to each other on the porch swing without saying a word.
When she had gotten back from the flower shop, her mother had already been out here, as if she couldn’t stand to be in the empty house by herself. How would she handle it once Leo went back to New York?
The thought made Leo feel guilty, and she resented that. She had worked hard to build her own life and to become successful. Her mother wouldn’t expect her to give that up…would she?
“Do you remember when you were a little girl?” her mother interrupted the silence. “You and your father would sit out here for hours and sing together. It was so cute that every neighbor who passed by stopped and listened.”
Leo hadn’t thought of that in years, probably decades. If she focused, she could still hear her father’s voice. Back then, he had always let her pick the songs they would sing instead of trying to force his music preferences on her. He had sung along even to nursery rhymes like “Itsy Bitsy Spider”—complete with the hand motions—and he hadn’t cared whether the neighbors had seen him do it.
What had happened to that man to turn him into the strict father she had known as a teenager?
“I can’t believe he’s gone,” her mother whispered, as if speaking any louder would really make it true.
Leo didn’t know what to say, so she reached over and put her hand on her mother’s arm.
She instantly covered Leo’s hand with her own. “I’m so glad you came home and got to see him before…” She pressed her lips together and fell silent.
“Yeah,” Leo said, “me too. We talked a little, you know? The night before he… It wasn’t overly affectionate or anything like that, but I think we mended some bridges.”
“Oh, honey!” Her mother squeezed Leo’s fingers with unexpected strength. “You don’t know how much I hoped that would happen. I know your father wasn’t always great at showing it, but I know it meant a lot to him that you came and took the time to stay so long.”
“Did he say that?” Leo asked.
“Well, not in as many words. You know
talking was a struggle for him after the second stroke.”
“What about before?” Leo couldn’t help asking. “Did he talk to you about me? About what he thought of my music and my sexual orientation?”
Her mother patted her hand. “You know how your father was.”
“No, actually, the longer I’m here, the more I find I don’t.” Her jaw felt stiff with tension. “I didn’t even know his favorite flower when I ordered the casket spray.”
“Lily,” her mother said. “It is…was the lily.”
Just like hers. But, of course, her mother wouldn’t know that. “Why didn’t you ever call?” The question surprised even her. She hadn’t planned on asking that. She hadn’t even been aware that it had been on her mind.
“I…I’m sorry,” her mother choked out. “Please don’t think I ever forgot about you.” She blinked away another tear, this time one that might be for Leo, for them, instead of for her husband.
Adding to her mom’s pain made Leo want to take back her question, but at the same time she knew they needed to finally talk about it. “Then why didn’t you call?” she repeated her question more softly.
“I was never sure you wanted me to. You were so focused on your new life and didn’t seem to want any reminders of who you were before.”
Was that really how it had been…how she had been? Leo wanted to dismiss it, but she remembered all too well how hard she had worked those first few years, how focused she had been on getting a record deal, then on recording her debut album and promoting it. There had been space for nothing else in her life.
“Maybe you’re right,” she finally said, “at least at the beginning. But why didn’t you call me when he had his first stroke…and then the one in May?” She swallowed down the lump of emotion in her throat so she could continue. “Didn’t it occur to you that I’d want to know?” Maybe now, just twenty-four hours after her father’s death, wasn’t the right moment to have this conversation, but Leo realized the question had gnawed at her for quite some time, and her mother had never really answered her when she’d asked it the first time.