The pool was heated, but the water was still much colder than her body temperature, and the air escaped Andee in a rise of bubbles as she felt the weight of the water around her, heard the muted chatter and laughter of Tiffany distorted beneath the surface. She held her breath for as long as she could, as long as her lungs could bear, and then she came back up, spluttering as she pushed the hair off of her face and blinked the chlorine out of her eyes.
“Emily, honey, yes, of course I miss you,” sighed Tiffany with a smile, her cell phone pressed to her ear. She was sitting in one of the pool chairs, legs crossed, and Jill was standing beside the pool, glancing down at it with her hands on her hips, one brow raised, as if her mind was elsewhere. “Baby, you know I can’t talk about that right now, but just think about all of the stuff I want to do to you,” laughed Tiffany, even as Robin groaned and rolled her eyes, her hands on top of the water. “Hey, guys, I think I need to go take this upstairs,” said Tiffany, then, her hand over the phone as she rose, winking at them. “Emily really misses me.”
“Thank you for taking it upstairs!” Robin joked.
Even from across the pool, Andee and Robin could hear Jill’s stomach growl.
“All I can think about is that pizza. I promise I’ll only eat exactly one quarter,” said Jill with a sly grin, walking backwards, and as it finally dawned on Andee exactly what it was Tiffany and Jill were doing, they’d each already backed out of the poolroom, the door shutting with a final-sounding echo behind them.
And Andee and Robin stood in the pool.
Alone.
Andee sighed for a long moment, sinking down until only her head was out of the water. She glanced at Robin.
“Hey,” said Robin then, frowning now, biting her lip. “Can we talk?”
Dreaded words that Andee did not want to hear.
“Uh, I don’t—”
“Look,” said Robin, moving quietly over to Andee, the water lapping against the skin of her arms as she stood beside her, staring at her with her bright blue eyes. The mischief that was usually in them was gone, replaced by a deep sadness that twisted Andee’s heart. “If you…if you don’t—I mean…” Robin raked her hand through her hair, sighed out, frustrated, trying to find the right words.
And for a single heartbeat, Andee knew that she was going to do it. There were too many emotions moving through her, too much water around her. Everything was warm and heavy and still. Andee was going to take a single step forward, and she was going to kiss Robin’s wet lips. She was going to put her arms around Robin’s shoulders, and their bodies would meet in the water. Andee’s heart thundered as she stared up at the beautiful woman she knew she still loved.
And then there was a dull beep as a keycard was used on the lock for the poolroom, followed by a lot of screaming, as three small children ran, bellowing with delight, into the room, followed by two women chatting with one another, fully clothed, obviously with no intention of going into the pool. The children ran in with their brightly colored floats and all but leapt into the water, laughing.
Andee breathed out miserably. The moment was gone.
She turned from Robin, and Robin turned from her. And then they began the methodical process of swimming laps, just as they’d done all those years ago in the college pool. It wasn’t until after the fifth lap, Andee’s muscles aching as she took a break in the deep end, her hand gripping the edge, that she realized they’d fallen into their old routine without thinking.
Just like always.
“Pizza’s getting cold,” said Robin, pausing beside her. Andee nodded, and together, they left the pool and the screaming children behind, taking towels from the rack as they shivered and dried themselves off. Andee felt Robin’s gaze on her, but she didn’t dare look back up into those bright blue eyes. She wrapped a towel around her body, took her cover-up and her own keycard, shoved on her flip flops, and then Robin and she made their squishy, noisy way to the elevator.
There was no one else on the elevator. They moved inside, and Andee pressed the button for the fourth floor.
And then Robin stepped forward, her hand over Andee’s, as she held down that fourth floor button.
“What are you doing?” Andee whispered, Robin’s body so close and so warm to hers that she felt a shiver move through her.
“It’s a trick. If you hold the button down, the elevator won’t stop until it reaches that floor,” Robin whispered into her ear, her breath warm, another shiver moving through Andee.
“What are you—”
“Whatever you feel, if you’re still angry at me…I need you to know something.” Robin’s voice was dark and pained as she swallowed, shook her head, the number on the elevator shifting from two to three. It flashed four as Robin leaned forward, as she whispered into Andee’s ear, “I still love you.” And then Robin stepped back. She bit her lip, searching Andee’s face.
Andee swallowed, her heart pounding so loudly that it was all she could hear. Her legs were weak from the laps, but that wasn’t what made them quake now.
Slowly, methodically, Andee pressed the button for the fourteenth floor—the top floor. And she held it down.
She reached out with her other hand, took hold of Robin’s sports bikini top and brought the woman to her, Robin stepping forward so that their bodies met. But Robin’s mouth was turned up into a grin, her eyes flashing brightly as she put a hand on either side of Andee’s shoulders, against the wall of the elevator, their hearts pressing together; Andee’s breath came so quickly that she thought she might see stars.
But Andee pulled tighter, feeling Robin’s skin beneath her fingers as she angled up her face and pressed her mouth to Robin’s, felt the weight of Robin against her, her arms around her, as the elevator dinged for the fourteenth floor, time moving, suddenly, far too fast.
There was no one on the fourteenth floor waiting for the elevator. Andee pressed the button for the fourth floor again, her heart still pounding, the euphoria of the moment moving through her in rhythm to the beat of her pulse.
“I have a lot to think about,” she whispered up to Robin, as Robin searched her eyes, as the elevator numbers counted down.
Robin pressed her mouth to Andee’s once more, a soft, lingering kiss, a brush of lips against her own.
They said nothing when the elevator dinged open on the fourth floor. Andee straightened her towel, and Robin tried to hide her smile as the two women stepped off of the elevator, as they walked toward the hotel room.
For a lingering heartbeat, Andee felt Robin’s hand brush the small of her back.
Andee didn’t know what to do. The panic hadn’t set in yet. All of her reservations hadn’t been considered yet. All of her memories had been stomped down, forgotten, in order to make room for that kiss.
Andee fumbled with the keycard at the hotel door, realizing she was grinning too widely. She didn’t need the keycard, though. As if Tiffany had been watching for them, waiting for them, she opened the door beneath Andee’s touch.
And she took one glance at Andee, and that sly smile was back.
Somehow, Tiffany knew.
---
“Really, Robin?”
Tiffany paused, her fingers poised on the GPS as she glanced witheringly into the backseat at Robin. Robin, who had assumed a posture of perfect innocence, as if a halo might materialize on top of her head at any moment. Then she grinned mischievously at Tiffany.
“It’ll be fun!”
“Oh, my God. Is there anyone else who thinks riding in an Amish buggy would be fun?” Tiffany tossed a glance at Jill—who was valiantly trying to remain neutral and shrugging her shoulders—and Andee, who just shook her head and laughed.
“I don’t know. It might be,” she said, in Robin’s defense.
“I mean, people build entire vacations around visiting Amish country,” said Robin. “For the millionth time, I’d like to remind you guys that you are the ones who asked me to plan this road trip,” she said, leaning forward and resting her elbo
ws on her knees as she raised an eyebrow.
“I haven’t had enough coffee for this,” said Tiffany, sighing as she gazed out of the parking garage, at the not-so-stunning view of the side of the Holiday Inn building. “And it’s too early for this.”
“Okay, we can bypass the Amish if you guys aren’t sold on the idea of shoo-fly pie and really amazing quilts.”
“Honey, the words ‘really amazing’ should go in front of the word ‘sex,’ not ‘quilts,’” said Tiffany, snorting as she started the engine. “Let’s go to a coffee shop and decide if we’re heading to Amish country or not.”
“I think we should take a vote,” said Robin, brow still up as she glanced sidelong at Andee, who had blushed more deeply every single time Robin had looked her way this morning. She couldn’t help it. When Robin glanced at her, her eyes flashing with mischief, her mouth turned up at the corners, Andee knew that she was thinking about their adventure in the elevator. Which Andee could hardly even believe had happened.
But she was very, very glad that it had.
“So, where would we go if we decided to sort-of drive through Amish country and not really stay but consider buying a shoo-insect pie, or whatever you call it, and take a buggy ride or two?” asked Jill, putting the GPS in the convertible’s glove compartment as Tiffany backed up the car, the spark of coffee lust flashing in her eyes.
“Only to see the greatest single thing in all of Pennsylvania. But…I’m afraid I’ll be vetoed again!” said Robin, shrugging as she spread her hands expansively. “Maybe I should just give you the address and not tell you what’s in store.”
“Oh, my God. It has something to do with aliens, doesn’t it?” sighed Tiffany, dropping the sunglasses down from the top of her head to sit primly on her little upturned nose. “I know that tone, Robin Barnes.”
“Aliens? In Pennsylvania? I thought it was the most boring state in the country,” said Andee, intrigued in spite of herself, as Tiffany flashed the hotel pass at the parking garage meter, and it sprang up to let the car out onto the sunny Baltimore streets.
“Alas, Tiffany knows me too well,” laughed Robin, steepling her fingers and leaning back on the bench seat. “Yes, it has to do with aliens.”
“Knew it!” Tiffany hooted, considering a red light before she decided to slow down for it.
“So, it’s Amish or aliens?” said Jill.
“Amish and aliens,” replied Robin, confidently.
Tiffany sighed. “I think I’m getting overruled! I need coffee to handle this much mutiny.”
“Darling, we need coffee to handle your driving,” snorted Robin, but she patted Tiff’s shoulder as she chuckled.
“Fair enough,” said Tiff, winking into the rearview mirror as she slammed her foot on the gas.
---
“How do you know so much about all of these places?” asked Andee, when they were on the road and aiming toward what Tiffany had taken to calling “buggy and quilt country.” Baltimore shone behind them as they sat in the speeding convertible, coffee cups in hand.
Robin grinned, stretching out, her arm along the back of the bench seat, her fingers grazing Andee’s shoulder. The slight contact made Andee shiver, and she smiled softly at her backseat companion.
“I’m paid to do this, remember?” said Robin, tossing her blue-brown hair out of her eyes. “It’s what I do. I take people on adventures.”
“I will bet you ten shiny dollars that you never took anyone on an adventure to the Museum of Dentistry,” snorted Tiffany, chugging down her coffee as if it were a lifeline.
Robin laughed, the sound warm and bright, like the peal of bells, Andee thought. She’d always loved the sound of Robin’s laugh, and Robin laughed very easily. “No, no, I have to admit—that one was a wildcard,” she said, winking sidelong at Andee. “Didn’t it woo you ladies, what with all of those dentures and teeth removal devices? Sexy stuff, am I right?”
“Oh, my God. I pity whatever poor woman falls for you,” said Tiffany, grinning wickedly as she looked pointedly into the rearview mirror at Andee—who blushed and glanced away.
“But I’ll probably take a client or two there in the future,” said Robin, head to the side. “My clients come to me because they want to go places they’ve never gone, have experiences they’ve never had… Live a little. And yeah, we do death-defying stuff. We skydive… You know, whatever you’d think of when you think of typical death-defying things. But we also do what scares them most, or just some things that broaden their horizons—like horseback riding or yoga or scuba diving or visiting museums. They trust me to show them a new world they’ve never known, never thought to know. And I do show them that,” said Robin, leaning back. “And I love it.”
As Robin spoke about her job, Andee noticed that her face changed. Robin was always animated, but she looked even brighter, glowing, when she spoke of her work.
“It must be wonderful,” said Andee softly, studying Robin’s face as Robin turned to her, pushed her sunglasses up on her head so that she could gaze into Andee’s eyes.
“Tell me about what you do,” said Robin, then, looking intensely at Andee’s face, even as Andee gazed at her.
“I’m just a dog groomer,” said Andee, shaking her head as her heart rate began to rise. Robin’s eyes were so blue, her gaze so…so deep. Andee licked her lips. “I own my own business, though, which is nice. Except at tax time.” She wrinkled her nose and chuckled a little, worry eating at her words. Her life sounded so boring compared to Robin’s! “I have my favorite clients,” she continued, clearing her throat after a moment, “and I really love the dogs. It makes me happy,” she said, glancing up at Robin.
“Do you have a dog?” Robin leaned forward, putting her chin in her hands.
Andee gulped for air, breathed out slowly. “Oh, I did,” she said, and heard her voice falter. She gazed down at her hands. “His name was AJ. He was a big Husky. I loved that dog. He was so gorgeous. You would have loved him, Rob,” she murmured, the wind almost whipping away her words as she spoke Robin’s pet name—the name she’d called Robin when they were in school together.
Robin looked startled at first, but then pleased, her grin widening.
“Anyway, he died last year,” said Andee, choking out the words as she tried to stop her tears from forming. “I miss him so much. I loved that dog…” She trailed off, glanced down at her hands again. “I haven’t been able to bring myself to get another pet since. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to again. He had such a big part of my heart.”
Robin reached across the space between them and gently, so gently, took Andee’s hands into her warm palms. “I’m so sorry, And,” she murmured. “He must have been wonderful.”
“He was,” said Andee quickly, searching Robin’s face. She cleared her throat again. “What about you? You always loved dogs…”
Robin shook her head, sighed and leaned back against the seat. “My lifestyle makes it impossible to have a dog. It’d be unfair to the poor beast,” she said, squeezing Andee’s hands once before letting them go. “Not that I don’t think about it all the time,” she chuckled.
“Well,” said Andee, rushing out the words before she could think about them and second-guess herself, “maybe you could come by sometime, see my place. It’s called the Puppy Parlor, and you could meet some pretty adorable pups there.” She smiled, watching Tiffany and Jill exchange a very meaningful glance in the front seat.
“I’d love that,” said Robin earnestly. And Andee knew she meant it.
They traveled up through Maryland, though not for long. When they crossed over the Pennsylvania border, the scenery began to grow more mountainous as Tiffany followed the highway through the state.
“Do my eyes deceive me?” she called into the backseat, pointing, “or is that something vaguely Amish?”
“It’s a little more than ‘vaguely,’” Andee chuckled from the backseat as they passed an Amish buggy being driven by a trotting horse covered in sweat, dark lines of
it soaked along its bay back as it trundled along the side of the road.
“All right, so what are we doing?” asked Tiff, as she glanced down at the GPS, “because we’re apparently in the heart of Amish country right now.”
“We need to find, buy and consume shoo-fly pie and other Amish handmade goodies, because they are going to be very delicious,” said Robin, with the air of someone who knew what she was talking about, from experience. “I think that we should pay to go on an Amish buggy ride, and that we should go into at least one or two general stores or stop at a quilt shop along the road to fully appreciate the experience.”
“And then we head to…?” prompted Tiff, glancing backward. Robin sighed, taking the folded piece of paper out of her pocket.
“Then we head to Kecksburg,” she said, her head to the side as she glanced up at Tiffany. “But you can’t look on your phone and see what’s there, okay? I want this to be a surprise!”
“I’m terrified,” said Tiffany, her voice deadpan. Then she chuckled as she slowed down. They were approaching a small, old-fashioned house with a hand-painted sign out front that read “Hand-made Amish Quilts.”
“Maybe we can rent a buggy here,” said Robin, her head to the side as she gazed at the sign.
They could not, in fact, rent a buggy at the quilt shop, but the older woman in the plain blue dress and black apron was able to direct them to a house three doors down where they could. The four women thanked her profusely, bought a handmade loaf of wheat bread and a “genuine” shoo-fly pie, and drove three doors down.
“I feel sheepish,” said Robin, with a laugh. “We could have walked!”
“Or taken a buggy,” said Tiffany, gesturing to the bay gelding who stood with his head down, in full harness, hitched to a post in front of the house. He was attached to a shiny black Amish buggy.
“What a pretty boy,” said Andee softly to the horse, who pricked his ears and gazed sidelong at her, whickering through his sweet big nose. Andee stepped forward and pet it, running her finger down his velvet face and over the star on his forehead as Robin walked onto the porch and knocked at the door. Jill followed and stood beside her, and Tiffany hitched her purse up onto her shoulder, looking very out of place in her extremely short hot-pink skirt, soft white blouse, pink high heels and pink painted nails.
The Thousand Mile Love Story Page 12