How many times was she going to think I should never have come?
From back here, Andee had the perfect vantage point of the slope of Robin’s shoulders, the way her short, brunette hairs brushed the back of her soft neck. Andee remembered how that neck tasted, and felt herself blushing beneath the heat of the sun, suddenly very glad that Robin couldn’t see her. The way that Robin hung her arm out the window, the way that Robin inclined her head to listen to Tiffany speak…they were all movements that not even ten years had been able to make Andee forget.
“So!” said Tiff loudly, grandly, gesturing to the road ahead of them with her sparkling, blue-nailed fingers. “Robin has very graciously plotted the road trip for us, so it’ll be one to remember!”
Andee said nothing. Robin glanced at her in the outside mirror, but Andee averted her eyes, watching the mountains instead, still trying to appear cool and detached.
“Don’t you want to know where we’re headed?” asked Tiff, trying to bait Andee into speaking. Andee shrugged, cleared her throat.
“Sure,” she muttered, though she wasn’t sure why she said it.
“We’re heading to the world’s largest chest!” said Tiffany, giggling wickedly.
“Why didn’t I know you were going to do that?” chuckled Robin, the rich, velvety sounds of her laughter filling the wind in the car, filling Andee’s heart and making it ache. Robin’s laugh had been one of her favorite things, and it still was, the musicality filling some empty, hollow space inside of her. Andee blinked, biting her lip as Robin turned around, glancing back at her with baby blue eyes that sent a jolt of something through Andee, all the way down to her toes. “She means the world’s largest chest of drawers,” said Robin, chuckling, rolling her eyes as Tiffany continued to giggle.
“What…what does that even mean?” said Andee, smiling in spite of herself. The laughing and giggling continued from the front seat.
“So there’s this furniture maker, here in North Carolina,” said Robin, stretching overhead before leaning one arm on the divider between the seats. She inclined her head back toward Andee, as if she was the only woman in the car. Tiffany must have heard this story already. “They wanted their store to be memorable, so they built this gigantic chest of drawers out front, like a big 3D billboard—it’s a perfect replica of a dresser, and it’s one of those attractions that tons of tourists stop at to take pictures. Even though I’ve lived here a while, I’ve never gone to see it. So I thought it’d be a sight to see.” She tossed a glance over her shoulder, and though Robin was still smiling, there was something behind her eyes. Something questioning.
“Huh,” said Andee, glancing out the side of the car again, watching the mountains in the distance. She wondered if Robin had ever climbed them. She probably had.
“So…so you’ve been good,” Robin persisted, and Andee felt her heart flutter at that. Tiffany remained silent, glancing at Andee in the back seat with a flick of her eyes from the road to the rearview mirror. She pushed her sunglasses down, then, from on top of her head to over her eyes, effectively shutting herself off from the conversation.
She wanted Andee and Robin to talk. Andee knew that.
But Andee couldn’t. Not yet.
“Yeah,” is how she answered. Robin tried a few more times, but when Andee kept up with the one-word answers, there was this oppressive silence in the car then. Tiffany tried to lift it, laughing about a license plate or a funny slogan on a semi, pointing these things out to the two quiet women in her convertible. It didn’t work, and they drove in silence.
Andee watched Robin’s hair moved by the wind, watched Robin’s hand held out against the force of the air. Robin had gotten a tattoo on her wrist. From where she sat, Andee couldn’t quite make it out. It might have been a dragonfly.
This isn’t how Andee had thought it would go. Honestly, she wasn’t exactly certainly how she’d thought it would go, but never like this. Andee supposed that she’d expected Robin to be triumphant. Triumphant and happy and boisterous, which is how Robin always was, but she was quelling those things, now, reverting to silence in the front seat. If there was something that it was difficult for Robin to be, it was silent. She loved to talk, loved to laugh, loved jokes and dirty jokes and she was being quiet because…why? Because Andee was here?
Was this Robin acting sorry?
But maybe Robin was not just as boggled to see Andee as Andee was to see Robin, because as they pulled into the parking lot of the world’s largest chest of drawers, Robin sprang out of the front seat quickly, a spring back in her step as she put her hands on her hips and stared up at the wooden monstrosity.
“That’s the world’s largest chest of drawers all right,” is what she said, grinning, as the other two women got out of the car, then, shielding their eyes against the glare of the morning sun to stare up at the sculpture.
The gigantic chest of drawers, Andee noted, had a gigantic sock sticking out of the one of the drawers.
It looked like any dresser Andee had ever seen…but super-sized.
“Well, that sure was something to see,” Tiff quipped, opening her car door back up.
“Oh, heck no,” said Robin, grinning over her shoulder as she slid a little camera out of her pocket. “I’ve got to document this! For posterity’s sake! It’s our first official stop on the road trip!”
“I am not standing in front of that thing,” said Tiff primly, adjusting her sunglasses in her rearview mirror.
Robin turned to Andee, one brow up.
Robin could influence the rotation of the earth around the sun with that single eyebrow. She’d always been able to get Andee to do anything with her wry little smile, one brow raised, as if to say “hey, it’ll be fun…” Even all those times when it decidedly wasn’t fun, was—in fact—much more dangerous than anything “fun” had a right to be (that time they’d skinny dipped in the city park’s river, for one, during the day). But still, Andee had done it because Robin had raised up her one brow, and impishly asked her to do it.
And it was happening again. Over ten years later, Andee found her feet moving of their own accord, dragging her across the half-filled parking lot to stand in front of the monstrously huge chest of drawers. And the one lone, unfortunate giant sock.
“Say ‘hotdogs!’” said Robin, holding up the camera.
Andee did not, in fact, say “hotdogs.” She pointed upward at the chest of drawers and did her best to smile. Which looked like a grimace. But Robin said nothing, only glanced at her when she lowered the camera, sticking it back into her pockets with a wide grin that was almost infectious as Andee got back in the car, trying to keep the smile from her own face.
Tiffany grinned at her in the rearview mirror before adjusting it and pushing the sunglasses up her nose. “All right, ladies!” she said, starting the engine. “And we’re off!”
The car’s tires screeched the pavement as they took off out of the parking lot of the world’s largest chest (of drawers).
---
“…so then I say to her, ‘Emily, honey, if you’re going to ask me to marry you, I want you to actually ask.’ And Emily’s like ‘All right!’ and goes out and buys this,” said Tiff, thrusting her left hand under Robin’s nose, causing the car to swerve into the right lane. Robin’s brows went up, but she looked dutifully down at the small diamond on Tiffany’s ring finger.
“It’s very beautiful,” said Robin, which made Tiff preen a bit, and actually get back into the lane she’d recently vacated.
“I was never one for marriage, you know? I mean, why the hell would I want it? Straight people didn’t seem to want to give it up,” Tiff snorted, pushing her sunglasses up onto her nose. “But then all of this gay marriage stuff started coming up, and I’ve been with Emily for five years, and yeah we fight—I mean, oh my God, who doesn’t fight, right? But we fight about stupid little shit, like who should feed the cats, or who’s going to cook dinner. I love her, Rob,” she said, glancing sidelong at Robin with a grin.
Andee watched this exchange quietly, peeling at the edge of her coffee cup with a fingernail. They were getting close to Blacksburg, and—mercifully—Tiffany had carried the entire conversation here, across state lines. It was early afternoon and the sun beating down on the three women had taken a blessed reprieve as clouds scuttled across its face. It was actually threatening rain.
“I’m really happy for you, Tiff,” said Robin, grinning sidelong at her front seat companion. The way that Robin said those words, the tilt of her head…Andee knew she meant them. Tiffany and Emily were really good for each other, and though they said they were going to be in the planning stages of the wedding for about five years (knowing Tiff, it might actually be closer to another decade…), being engaged made Tiffany glow. Anyone who knew her or loved her could tell. Heck, even people who just met her were often regaled with the story of her ring. It was well known that if you went to Tiffany White’s bakery and talked to her long enough about engagement, marriage equality and exactly how sparkly that diamond on her finger was, you might walk out with a free croissant.
“So, Rob, what about you? Are you seeing anyone?” asked Tiff, batting her eyelashes at Robin. Robin shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and—from the backseat—Andee glared daggers at the mass of red hair that whipped around behind Tiff’s headrest.
“No, no, I’m single,” said Robin, sniffing, glancing out the window so that Andee couldn’t see her face. “I’m too busy, you know? Got too much going on. I just actually landed this really great new client,” she said, smoothly switching the subject. “I’m taking him cliff diving super soon. I think he’s going to die, personally, but once he gets over his initial fear, he’ll feel he’s never lived before,” she practically whooped, putting her hands behind her head and leaning back.
“Well, you know, I just baked a cake for…”
Andee watched the mountains move past them and tried very, very hard not to stare at the curve of Robin’s shoulder and neck, the way the light flashed in her eyes as she laughed with Tiffany.
She tried very hard not to watch Robin.
They stopped for a bathroom/refueling/oh-God-does-Tiffany-need-coffee break outside of a café chain. Andee stretched as she got out of the convertible, her hands at the small of her back, glancing up at the brightly smiling green mermaid logo that seemed to glare down at her.
“Can I get you anything?” asked Robin as Tiffany trotted in.
Leaving them alone.
Andee stared at her for a full minute, her cheeks growing hot as she tried to think of something to say. There were too many words bubbling up within her, and finally, they all burst out as Robin leaned against the car door, hands in pockets, watching her with a carefully neutral expression.
“Do I need anything,” she repeated woodenly, and Robin’s eyes narrowed.
“Did I say something wrong,” asked Robin.
Andee balled her hands into fists, rose up on her toes as Robin tilted her head toward her. The women were mere inches away, and all Andee could feel was the heartbeat pounding through her, the scent of Robin’s shampoo and cologne (Robin always wore men’s cologne) merging together with the scent of Robin’s skin and overpowering every other sense…
“You look good,” is what Robin said, then. Andee breathed out in a huff, letting herself settle back onto the balls of her feet as she became slowly deflated.
What was a good, witty, scathing response to that? Robin looked better than “good.” She looked like she’d invented the word.
And Andee was not supposed to be thinking things like this.
“Yes, well,” said Andee, stalling for time as she crossed her arms and bit her lip. “You look…yeah, you too.” It came out all in a jumble, and Robin was smiling as she pushed off from the car, her hands in her pockets, her shoulders curved toward Andee.
“Can I get you a drink?” she asked, her one eyebrow curled up, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“No,” said Andee, using every last bit of willpower she possessed to not take Robin up on this offer. Because there were things attached to accepting a drink. Things that Andee didn’t want to look at yet.
Things like forgiveness.
“It’s just a drink, And,” said Robin, and when Andee glanced up, her heartbeat began to thunder through her at the use of that innocuous little nickname—a nickname on top of a nickname, she’d always thought of it (most people forgot her real name was Andrea). But Robin could turn that one little word sultry, and she’d done so again, leaning on the car as she leaned toward Andee, too.
This was too much. Too many thoughts, feelings, emotions roaring through Andee. She made some excuse, though she couldn’t remember what, and practically fled into the coffee shop, and into the coffee shop’s bathroom that Tiffany was just vacating. Tiffany asked her something, but Andee couldn’t hear what was said as she shut and locked the door, leaning against it, feeling the cool metal beneath her hands and back.
It was all still there. The magnetism. The need. Andee put her hands against her face and wasn’t surprised to see her fingers shaking.
Okay. Okay, Andee. This was never going to do. She crossed to the mirror and stared at herself, shoving her sunglasses up and on to the top of her head. Her eyes looked wild beneath the fluorescent lights, and her skin was much too pale after having been in the sunshine for a handful of hours.
This was never going to do.
---
They pulled into the parking lot of Jill’s condo at exactly five thirty-three that afternoon. Andee knew the exact time because she’d been industriously staring at her watch for the past few hours, watching the minutes slowly--painfully slowly--go by, instead of risking looking anywhere but at her watch. Because then Robin would catch her eyes.
So Andee stared at the watch.
“Hey, ladies!” said Jill, getting up from her condo steps where she’d been waiting, brushing off the bottoms of her immaculately tailored suit pants. Jill’s hair, prematurely graying, was held back in a high, glossy ponytail, and her perfectly make-upped face crinkled into a smile as she stared down at the three women, her hands on her hips. Jill had always made an impressive, imposing figure, but as she’d grown into her own power and moved up at her job at—what was it? Andee always had a difficult time remembering. Oh, yes—the advertising agency (something about online sales. Andee’s eyes often glazed over when Jill talked about it, not because it was, in and of itself, a very boring job, but because Jill was so impassioned about her work that she was liable to talk about web banners, pop-ups and click through rates for hours, if you’d let her go on unchecked).
“Jillie,” said Robin happily, enfolding the woman in her arms as Jill clicked down the last few steps in her heels, her mouth in a wide grin as she reached out and embraced Robin tightly. And then Tiffany.
And then Andee, squeezing her close as she whispered in her ear: “are you okay, sweetheart?”
“Yeah, Jillie,” said Andee, grinning up at her. Jill had always treated Andee like her little sister, always watching over her. Though Jill and Robin still continued to be best friends, Jill had never stopped loving Andee just as much.
It’s how all of their friendships in the “Adventure Lezzies” had been able to continue after the big fissure. The women all loved one another, and if Andee and Robin were at odds, well, then, the rest of them could love both women equally without “officially” choosing a side. (Something that had hurt Andee very much at the time, but she’d grown to accept it over the years.)
“You’re looking sexy like a fox,” laughed Robin, raising an eyebrow and shaking her head with a grin. “Leila’s a lucky lady.” Robin winked as Jill put her hands on her hips again, staring down at the convertible as she bit her lip, didn’t acknowledge the compliment. Not the normal Jill reaction at all.
“Let’s get the bags inside,” said Jill quietly, clearing her throat.
Tiffany stared at her with wide eyes behind her sunglasses. “Jillie, what’s t
he matter…?”
“It’s no big deal, seriously,” she said quietly, smoothing the front of her blazer and licking her lips. “But I guess you need to know. Leila moved out last night.”
“What?” whispered Robin and Tiffany, but Andee just stood there, dumbstruck.
“Oh my God…I’m so sorry…” began Robin, but Jill held up her hand, shook her head.
And then Jill Lewis, strong, confidant, always-together Jill fell apart in front of them, put her face in her hands and began to weep.
“Oh my God, Jillie,” whispered Andee, stepping forward and enfolding the woman in a tight embrace. The other two women stepped forward, too, and then they were all hugging and holding Jill at the center, just like ten years hadn’t passed.
Leila and Jill had been together for almost that long.
Ten years of relationship, gone in an instant. Andee swallowed, stepped back as Jill brought a handkerchief out of her blazer pocket, dabbed at her eyes and blew delicately into it, her gaze still rooted to the sidewalk and not looking at the other women. “Let’s just get everything inside, shall we?” she asked with false brightness, sniffing. “I want to get really fucking drunk.”
“I’ll drink to that,” said Robin heartily, grinning at Jill as she grabbed her backpack from the trunk quickly, lifting out Tiffany’s hot pink roller suitcase, and Andee’s smaller suitcase, too. When she handed it to Andee, her fingers brushed Andee’s hand, and Andee swallowed. It wasn’t important. There would be days and days of this, and she had to get less sensitive, and anyway, the really important thing right now was Jill.
“Do you want to talk about it?” asked Robin as the three women followed Jill up her steps to the condo door. Jill turned the knob, pushed it open and held it for them as Tiffany, Robin and Andee went past her, into the condo.
Jill’s aesthetic (and Leila’s), had always tended toward modern, and they’d decorated the condo together in very elegant lines, lots of black and white and extremely modern furniture, like the couch in the center of the room that Andee always refused to sit on because it was made to be looked at, not actually used (or so it felt under her rump). But Jill flopped down on the extremely white couch, now, tossing off her heels as they clunked against the wood floor.
The Thousand Mile Love Story Page 4