The Hat Trick

by Tara Wimble

  This is happening now.

  Slipping her hands around Robin’s elbows and testing the touch of their lips, warm together, cold apart as she whimpers, now. The gasp builds and Lexie leads after a while. Robin’s hand turns to her neck, pulling her close while Lexie kisses her bottom lip, running her teeth over it a second time.

  She wants to pull back and see the tiny dent in her cheek. The lines of her smile and the colors of the lights reflecting off her skin. She wants to do all that and more but she can’t seem to stop kissing her to do that.

  They don’t stumble for support, though Lexie’s knees weaken, when Robin utters a thin groan that sings to them both. But the sound shatters the sheet of ice they’ve encased themselves in and Robin’s last click of their lips together tears them apart.

  God. She’s blinding. The night hides everything that she doesn’t need to see, but it reveals, even through the haze of feelings she’s floating on, something that she wishes she hadn’t.

  Robin’s chest rises and falls faster and Lexie can see it flying in her eyes and she grabs hold of the front of her jacket. The panic.

  “Don’t run.” She pleads. “Not yet.”

  “I’m not running away from you.” Robin murmurs, trying to settle. “I’m trying to come back to you.”

  Lexie knows as soon as she lets go they’ll part ways. Lexie to her room, Robin to Janice. It won’t be running but she’ll feel like Robin is sprinting. She doesn’t want to let go and feel Robin slipping through her fingers again. Not when she’s tasted this. Not when Robin has given her this.

  “Just stay here for a second and let me-” Lexie feels the quickness. “I know that maybe I’m not doing this the right way but Jesus Robin, I know this isn’t just me in this. You have to know that.”

  Robin is still shaking, from cold and kiss alike, but she manages a smile. “This isn’t just you. But it needs to be me before there’s an us.”

  Lexie keeps hold of her.

  Robin places her hands over Lexie’s knuckles. “I want us.”

  A heartbeat. A secret.

  “I just don’t know how ready I am for us.”

  So she’ll run and pray and Lexie will watch her steal glances and wonder.

  “I want to be ready.”

  Lexie pulls her hands together and runs her fingers over the zip of Robin’s jacket. “I’ll be here, you know that.”

  “Yeah.” It’s cold and this feels sadder than Lexie imagined it would turn out. She feels like she’s losing Robin when she leans in and kisses her once, a last time, and doesn’t open her eyes until she’s a step away. “Merry Christmas, Lexie.”

  Lexie let’s go.

  Robin runs.

  Chapter 7

  “You’re miles away right now aren’t you?”

  Lexie jolts back into the car. The slow hum of the heater and her sister’s smooth driving had lulled her into a trance of sorts, gazing out of the window as they got closer and closer to campus again. “Sorry.”

  Jeri gives her a glance sideways. “You’ve been quiet all holiday.”

  “Have I?” Lexie sighs.

  “Lexie.” Jeri brings the car to stop by some lights. “What’s going on?”

  What was going on?

  Not touching the gingerbread flavorings at Starbucks when they stopped on the way home before Christmas. Not looking twice at her sister’s holiday pictures of her on the beach. Hating the feel of the cold side of her bed at home. Wanting to panic at every noise her phone made, good news or not.

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing.” Jeri starts up moving again. “I believe that even less than mom and dad did when they gave you your present. Don’t lie to me, Lexie.”

  Lexie turns the small key over in her hand again. It’s for a lock that’s currently chaining her Christmas present, a 2013 Fuji Feather single speed, to the back of Jeri’s car.

  It’s not a bike she could make, not any time soon anyway, nor is it a bike she’d ever have asked for on her own but her parents had surprised her. Her dad had pulled out the crumpled magazine clipping of it she’d kept in her tool box with a proud grin that he’d gotten it so right before taking her to it in the garage.

  All black with a single line of pink running down the frame.

  She’d been speechless, spluttering out her attempt at thanks until her parent’s gesture moved her to actual tears.

  Or so they assumed when she started crying because she couldn’t bring herself to say that she was upset because she couldn’t tell the one person who would freak out over this as much as she would.

  “Then don’t ask me to answer something that I don’t want to.”

  “Stop being such a brat.”

  “You’re the one who insisted on taking me back.” Lexie fires back. “If you wanted to talk to me you could have thought of a better way.”

  Jeri turns. “Or you could grow up and tell me because you’ve been moping all Christmas and no one knows why.”

  Lexie bites the inside of her cheek.

  “Did you fail a class or something?”

  “No.” Lexie replies.

  Jeri sighs. “Lexie, I’m just trying to help. You know that. I hate seeing you upset.”

  She wants to yell that she’s not upset and she’s not moping but she can’t because ever since she saw Robin running from her, Lexie feels like she’s been mourning something that she never truly got to have. And with the lack of messages from Robin, other than to wish her ‘Merry Christmas’, her grieving hasn’t been interrupted.

  “I-”

  She knows that it would help to talk about it to someone other than Janice or Laurel. Not that either of them know that they kissed, just that Robin admitted to wanting to be with her before she bolted. But she hasn’t come out to Jeri, or her mom, or her dad yet and the idea of sitting down for that conversation scares her. The ground beneath her has shifted enough for one day. Lexie needs pedals and a motion on her side for things to work out. The right moment will come.

  “Did you have a fight with one of your friends?”

  “No.”

  “Who was it?”

  “Jeri, I didn’t-”

  “You replied.”

  Lexie breathes out loudly through her nose and she can see Jeri’s grin of victory. She’s got one over on her and she knows it. The weight on her chest begs to be lifted and Lexie is weakened from keeping this up all break.

  “Robin.”

  “Robin?” Jeri questions. “I haven’t heard you talk about him much.”

  “No, Robin-” Him, she said. “Robin’s a girl.”

  Jeri taps her hands on the steering wheel. There’s an awkward silence. “Oh right, odd name. So what did she do?”

  “Nothing. She- we just had a-” She doesn’t want to use the phrase ‘falling out’ because other than her heart hitting the floor, nothing has fallen. “-thing that didn’t turn out the way I wanted.”

  “What thing?” Jeri’s voice turns a little strangely and Lexie swallows.

  “I was helping out at this Christian union night and it didn’t go so well and we haven’t been talking.” It’s vague enough for Jeri to not give her that voice again but true enough that she’s not lying. Things didn’t go well and they didn’t turn out the way she wanted and Robin hasn’t spoken to her.

  And it’s killing her to be driving back to campus not knowing where they stand.

  Lexie slips her phone out while Jeri tries to give her some sort of advice that can’t Hope to help her because the situation is so much worse than Jeri is prepared to deal with. “Have you tried talking to her?”

  “No.”

  She types in Janice’s name.

  “Then how can you know that you’re in a fight or whatever if you haven’t spoken to her?” Jeri asks. “I’m sure if you talked it out...”

  Her phone buzzes.

  ‘I’m just getting back now but I don’t think she’s bk yet. Her bike isn’t here.’

  “...you’d be alright ag
ain.”

  Lexie stares at Janice’s response.

  ‘thx anyway.’ She taps out.

  “So?” Jeri’s voice ends on a standstill and Lexie has to acknowledge the advice somehow.

  “I don’t think it’ll be that easy.” She replies. This isn’t even about her or wanting to be with Robin. It’s about Robin wanting to be with her and how she can reconcile that with herself. Faith isn’t something Lexie thinks about a lot, but for someone who sleeps with a bible under her pillow or on her bedside desk, Robin’s approach to it means more to her. Lexie respects that. The sick empty feeling in her stomach wishes she wouldn’t.

  “When you actually decide to take my advice and sort this out, remember to call me and say thanks.”

  “Just so you can say ‘I told you so’?”

  The car pulls into the drop off beside Lexie’s building and before she can jump out and escape her sister’s good wishes, Jeri grabs her arm. “Hey.”

  “Don’t be a stranger this term. I know you’re having fun and everything but it’d be nice to hear how you’re doing for those of us who are still living at home.” Jeri let’s go of her and Lexie lingers. “And also because I’ll need to say I told you so.”

  Lexie laughs.

  “C’mon then, I guess I’ll help you sort your shit out.”

  The simplest option. Just talk to her.

  She’s given her enough space over Christmas and spent three miserable weeks in her room because of it. She misses Robin. She misses seeing her, hearing her voice and being acknowledged in general by her. Selfish as it is, and whether or not it’s a good idea, she wants to see her and not just replay the scene of them kissing over and over in her head.

  Well, she knows what she’s doing for the rest of the day.

  **

  It’s still cold when she steps off the plane in L.A and although it’s not as cold as she’s used to her mom refuses to let her take off the coat that she’d been stuffed into back in Georgia. Janice may be a good thousand miles away but she’s not about to take this damn coat off until she’s somewhere her mom can’t come and find her.

  That means though that she’s still wearing the coat after throwing all of her stuff in her room and frowning over Robin being missing when she gets Hope’s text.

  It also means that she ends up sitting on the steps of Hope’s porch after a short cab ride, still wearing the coat, and looking like some sort of winter munchkin that Hope bursts out laughing over the minute she sees her.

  “I am so sorry.” She says, sounding not sorry at all in Janice’s opinion.

  “Ignore it.”

  “Did your mom make you wear that?”

  “Do you really want me to answer that question and have all of my sexual appeal diminish right before your very eyes?”

  Hope pushes her key into the door and gives her a look that works in her favor when she comments that; “Taking clothes off usually helps throw you back in the right direction.”

  Christmas has been a good space for them, it seems.

  Hope pushes the door open and ushers herself in first. Janice lingers momentarily by the door until Hope looks back. “You can come in. Just take your shoes off.”

  Janice’s tempted to call her out on acting like a mom but that would screw with her head too much. She wanders in and pushes the door closed as Hope takes off her first layer, leaving a grey zip hoodie underneath, and hangs it up. She glances back at Janice when she’s finished. “Sorry about the mess.”

  She doesn’t actually notice.

  The hallway is short and the only thing with clutter on it is the small desk to the side of the door where Hope drops her keys before she walks past her.

  Janice shucks off her shoes quickly and toes them in line with the other pairs there. The space is making things easy for now but Janice knows they have a lot of things to get through before she’ll feel comfortable asking if Hope has roommates. Quickly she pulls the hideous pink coat from her arms and flings it in the direction of the stairs. So long!

  She follows Hope with the question on her tongue for later and let’s her envy rise as they come through to Hope’s kitchen. Janice ignores that Hope busies herself with settling into her house, putting down her bag, putting away the food she brought from her car, while she just takes in the kitchen. It’s spotless, Janice isn’t sure that this place has ever seen dirt no matter what Hope tells her, and she’s kind of jealous.

  Not that she hasn’t poured over the pictures of her future apartment’s kitchen a million times over. But it doesn’t really compare to black marble countertops and an island stove.

  “Do you want anything to drink?” Hope breaks her awed silence and Janice feels herself retreat.

  “Um, maybe in a little bit?” Janice stutters. “I kind of just,” She stops and actually let’s herself look at Hope for a second. To the lack of a uniform for once, to the way the hoodie clings further to the right side of her body than to her left, just letting her peek at the red shirt underneath it. She looks good and Janice’s just hit with how much she’s missed her. “Hi.”

  Hope places the glass that she was going to fill for Janice down. “Hey. Did you have a good Christmas?”

  She felt the dodge coming and stood strong. “Yes and no.”

  ‘“No?” Hope echoes with concern.

  “I’ve been worrying about this for a while.” Every day since they parted ways after Press’ bakery and more at night when there wasn’t the tasks of putting up decorations and entertaining family to distract her from the thought of standing here. She wasn’t the one who had to explain even.

  Hope’s face is calm yet Janice finds herself deciphering the twitches and the darkening eyes all the same. “Why would you worry?”

  “I don’t know what I’m meant to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything. I’m the, I asked you here.”

  “Why?”

  “To see you? To apologise.” Hope tugs her hair out of the tie she had in and everything tumbles over her shoulders.

  The urge to cross her arms is overwhelming but she doesn’t want to come off defensive when Hope looks to be thinking this through. So she lets them swing by her side, open to whatever Hope has to say to her.

  “I’m sorry that I bailed out on you and didn’t tell you why.”

  “Why did you?” Janice interrupts quickly. She wants to keep this on track.

  “Work.”

  “What about work?”

  The short clipped answers are cracking the tension between them. The more Hope talks, even shortly, the more Janice can feel the imagined distance they’ve placed for each other in their minds closing.

  “I had some trouble with someone in the department,” Hope looks down. “And I didn’t want to bring that on you.”

  “What kind of trouble?” Her mind goes to Scully and the story Hope told and department heads that couldn’t see what good Hope brought but Hope shrugs.

  Hope’s back straightens. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

  “Hope.” Janice frowns. She feels like she’s being brushed off.

  Hope touches the top of the glass on the table. “I was being harassed. It’s nothing.”

  “Harassed? Like what? Someone steal your route?” She can’t imagine someone messing with Hope, not just because she’s like a head taller than her but because she’s Hope. Tall, dark, intimidating and licensed to hold a gun.

  Yet the entire situation doesn’t seem to faze her. Hope taps her fingers on the counter and continues; “Like, someone was sneaking around my office and following me home-”

  “A guy?” Janice asks.

  Hope looks at her, directly, and her answer is there. “He’s one of Rollins’s men.”

  “Rollins’s the-” She remembers that name from somewhere. Amidst a long Google search.

  “-the guy that had me demoted. Yeah.”

  “What’s he still doing with you?”

  “Checking I’m not attempting to overthrow him? Inspire
a revolution?” Hope’s joke falls flat when her voice turns bitter. “He likes to know what I’m doing so he keeps his men around me.”

  “He sounds like a dick.” She almost feel the sleaze. How many of Rollins’s men have followed her since her demotion?

  Hope gives her an agreeable look. “Just be glad you don’t have to work with him.”

  “What if I said I wanted to be a police officer?” Janice doesn’t hide the grin but the laugh stays within her chest at the thought. She’s definitely not serious enough for Hope’s kind of work. She’s not sure she has the patience either.

  “I’d say you won’t get far with that criminal record of yours.”

  “My crimi-” Janice stalls. “Hey- I’m pretty sure I was the victim in that fight.”

  “Still had to file a report.” Hope smirks slightly and Janice can tell she wants to smile. “Could have called your mom.”

  “You want to talk about my mom now?” Janice groans. “The coat is bad enough.”

  The smile dims for a second before returning with a force. “So, did you have a good Christmas then?” Hope asks for a second time.

  Janice approaches the other side of the island in the middle and braces her hands against the counter by Hope’s side. “It was good. I missed home. They missed me. My dad golfed way too much and I spent most of my time telling Lexie to stop moping around.”

  “Is she okay?”

  Janice shrugs. She doesn’t really know. She has a feeling that Lexie is holding out on her and on what happened with Robin after their Christian Union date. If the way Lexie clammed up when Janice teased her about it was any indication then it mustn’t have been good.

  “I think so.” Janice says. “What about you?”

  Hope breathes in and suddenly looks taller, if possible. “I drove to see my parents for a while and stayed with them until after Christmas then came back and went back to work.”

  “Did you work New Years?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How was it?”

  “Boring. It’s never a good time trying to keep on top of calls when half the city seems to be roaming around.” Hope replied honestly. Janice feels a lump in her throat from reminding herself that she sat between her brother and sister as the clock counted down wishing she was here, this close to Hope, and more.