Just as suddenly as JoAnn had started, she pulled away. She took Tess’s glass and set it, along with her own, back on the tray. Then her mouth covered Tess’s again, this time more fervently.
Eyes closed, Tess lost herself in the kiss. Then Dusty was there—right there, kissing her, touching her, making her…
JoAnn moaned.
“Wait.” Tess sighed against JoAnn’s mouth. She pressed her hand against her shoulder. She pushed. “I can’t.”
JoAnn flopped back against the sofa, her eyes shut. “Okay.”
Tess tried to get control of her mind and body. She wanted release—needed release—so badly. She liked JoAnn, was attracted to her, and JoAnn was right here, wanting her. Why couldn’t she get Dusty out of her thoughts, out of her fantasies, out of her heart? And yet, she couldn’t go to bed with JoAnn thinking of Dusty. She wouldn’t. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
JoAnn waved a hand. “No, you’ve been clear. I’m the one who should be sorry.” JoAnn smiled up at the ceiling. “But I’m not. That was incredible, feeling your passion. I know it’s going to be so amazing.”
“No, really, JoAnn. I shouldn’t have. It’s not you. It’s—”
“It’s Boo Radley,” JoAnn said softly.
“What?”
“It’s Boo Radley.” JoAnn turned to face her. “It’s the woman at the Halloween party dressed as Boo Radley. I don’t know who she is, and I don’t think I want to, but I know she’s the reason you’re holding back.”
She knows? Tess stared at her. “Wh—what? How?”
“I saw the way you were looking at her. I know you’re in love with her.”
Tess felt the heat of a deep blush flood her face and chest, hotter than the arousal that had already claimed her. It was the heat of shame. She knew? Tess started to rise. “I’m so sorry.”
JoAnn grabbed her hand and pulled her back down. “Please don’t go. Not like this.”
Tess averted her gaze. She wanted to run.
“Just relax. It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay.” Tess chided herself. “I should never have started dating you until I was completely—”
“No.” JoAnn brought Tess’s fingers to her lips and kissed them. “That’s the last thing I want. Look, I don’t know what happened between you and the Boo woman, and I’ll be honest with you, I think she’s a moron. She obviously has—or had—your love and either threw it away, or didn’t know what to do with it or…something. And I’m grateful for her stupidity. Tess, I promise you, I am going to love you so well that someday you’re going to look at me the way you were looking at her.”
Tess was still stunned, confused, and embarrassed, but she had to say something. “JoAnn, I don’t want you to think you have to compete—”
“I will. I’ll do whatever I need to do to show you how happy you can be with me. I’ve been in love with you for a long time, and I know we could be good together. We are good together.”
Tess heard the words, but they were too much. She wasn’t ready for professions of love, not from JoAnn. Not yet. “I’m not going to deny it. Yes, I was involved with her. It was a strange thing, and somewhere along the way I fell in love. And no, she doesn’t feel the same. I am working out my feelings, but it isn’t really fair for me to date you—”
“I’m going to interrupt you every time you head in that direction,” JoAnn said. “I don’t want anything to change between us. Well, I do. But not in the way you’re talking about. I just wanted you to know that I knew and that you don’t need to hide it. I’m willing to wait.” She brushed her lips across Tess’s. “As I said, I know it’s going to be amazing.”
“JoAnn, she lives with me,” Tess said. If all was being shared, she might as well truly let it be all.
“What?”
“Not with me, but in the house. She lives at Maggie’s.”
JoAnn hesitated. “Are you getting over her?”
Tess looked down to where their fingers intertwined. “It’s been more difficult than I’m sure it would have been under different circumstances, but yes, I think I am.” Was that true, or was it merely her intention to do so?
“I could probably help with that,” JoAnn said, flirtation back in her voice. “If you’d let me.”
Tess smiled, considering the thought. Perhaps it was true. Spending more time with JoAnn had helped Tess keep her feelings for Dusty at bay, had kept thoughts of a life with her from filling her mind. Maybe JoAnn’s touch, her kisses, her responses to Tess’s, could chase away her desire for Dusty. Who was to say, though, that her dates and time with JoAnn were really helping her free herself from her feelings, or if they just offered a distraction and kept her out of the same house? Besides, if JoAnn’s caresses and arousal were enough to overcome Tess’s desire, this very moment wouldn’t have happened and the evening would already be ending much differently. But maybe soon. “Not yet,” was all Tess said.
“But you thought about it.” JoAnn flashed a grin of victory.
Tess laughed. “Yes, I thought about it.”
“I take that as encouragement,” JoAnn said, coaxing Tess into her arms. “I’m going to make you happy, Tess. I’m going to make you forget all about Boo Radley, I promise.” She kissed Tess tenderly.
Later, as Tess walked up the stairs to her own bedroom, she remembered JoAnn’s words and wondered about such a promise—wondered about promises, in general. Hadn’t Addison promised to be faithful to Maggie? Tess had promised Alicia she would never let anything happen to her. Alicia had promised they would grow old together. Tess had promised herself she would only have sex with Dusty. All these, and many more, had been made in sincerity, and yet all had been broken. Now, here was JoAnn, promising she would make Tess forget.
At the top of the steps, Tess paused outside Dusty’s door. Oh, that JoAnn’s promise had already been fulfilled, or the one before it, or even the ones before that. If any of them had been, she wouldn’t be standing here wanting so much to turn the knob and go inside, to slip into Dusty’s bed, and just let herself love her.
Chapter Nineteen
The doorbell sounded. “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction.”
Maggie stared out the glass wall of her living room and up the mountainside. Maybe she should change that. She had agreed to the Rolling Stones because they were Addison’s all-time favorite band, but that particular song now brought up questions, the answers to which Maggie wasn’t sure she wanted to know. How long had Addison felt unsatisfied? Was she getting satisfaction now? Clearly, the answer to the latter was yes. Maggie could keep the Stones until she saw how things would unfold, and maybe just change the song. Change it to what, though? “It’s All Over Now?” That was worse. Maybe “Mixed Emotions.” She didn’t move.
It had been a long day and an even longer previous night. Pete had released his final breath at four thirty-seven that morning. It had been quiet, so quiet. Later had come all the usual activity, including the arrival of the funeral home personnel and the transport of Pete’s body. And that had been followed by assisting Ricardo and the family with some cleaning up, the final arrangements for services, and sitting for a while just sharing feelings.
The doorbell chimed again.
This time, Baxter lifted his large head from her knee and cocked it to one side. He let out a soft whine.
Maggie sighed. “All right, laddie,” she told him as she heaved herself out of the chair. “Are you expectin’ someone?” Who even rings the doorbell? She tried to imagine. Everyone she knew simply let themselves in. “Maybe it’s a package,” she said to the dog. She shot a longing glance up the stairs toward her bath and bed as she stepped into the foyer.
The chimes sounded once more.
Maggie turned the knob and opened the door. “I’m right h—” She stared in disbelief. “Here.”
Baxter rushed past her, wagging his stub of a tail along with his whole back end.
“I’m sorry,” Addison said. She bent and greeted Baxter with a vigorous scratch
ing of his ears. “I know sometimes it’s hard to hear the bell from the third floor. Hey, Bax, how ya doin’?”
Yes, she would know that. She was the one who insisted on no doorbell extender up there. What was she doing here, and why was she using the bell, anyway? “You don’t need to ring,” Maggie said, thankful for something to say. “This is still your home, unless you’ve decided otherwise.”
Addison hesitated. “It didn’t seem right not to.” She shrugged. “I’m not sure why.”
Guilt, Maggie knew. “Would you like to come in?” Her heart pounded. Why was Addison here after two and a half weeks without so much as an e-mail? Maggie couldn’t help hoping she had come home, but somehow she knew better.
A slight smile touched the corners of Addison’s mouth. “I’d like that.” When they were settled in the living room, she looked around her. Her body relaxed into the sofa cushions, and she released a sigh.
Maggie waited. She wanted Addison to speak first. She would have liked to ask her how she was doing, but if the answer involved anything to do with her affair, Maggie really didn’t want to hear it. She did care how Addison was, though.
“I heard about Pete,” Addison said finally, saving Maggie from her dilemma. It seemed Addison didn’t want to open the subject of how Maggie was either. “How’s Ricardo?”
“He’s okay. He has some grievin’ to finish up, but he’s relieved it’s over for Pete. That’s such a cruel disease.” She shifted in her chair and tucked one foot beneath her.
Addison nodded. “It is.” She fingered the crease of her black slacks. “Were you there when he went?”
“Yes. I was holdin’ his hand. I felt him go.” Maggie remembered the intimacy of the moment. “He was peaceful.”
“Are you okay?” Addison asked, her voice tender.
The question startled Maggie. She looked at Addison. “Of course. This isn’t my first time. You know that.”
“I know. I just thought since it was someone you knew, a friend, it might’ve been more difficult.” Addison paused. “I was just concerned about you, that’s all.”
Concerned about me. Anger began to uncoil in her stomach like a waking dragon stretching its neck. About whether or not I’m okay with a friend finally getting to leave his disease-riddled body and be free? Not concerned about how I might be doin’ after findin’ you in our bedroom with another woman between your legs and not hearin’ from you since you walked out the door that night? Even though those thoughts were in her head, that wasn’t who she wanted to be. She commanded the dragon to settle again. “I’m fine,” she said instead. “I’ll miss him, but he’s finally free, and I’m happy for him.”
“Good.” Addison glanced around. “I’m glad you’re okay.” She ran her hands down her thighs. “I was concerned.”
“Yes, you said that.”
Addison exhaled a deep sigh. “God, this is hard. I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have come.” She stared at the floor.
Maggie could see—could feel—Addison’s discomfort, her struggle. She realized Addison had no obligation to come over this afternoon, and the fact that she had showed that she truly had been thinking of Maggie. She’d always been the one Maggie wanted to have hold her after one of her patients left this earthly plane. She’d always been the one to help Maggie get anchored once more into daily life, and here she was, in the midst of everything else, offering that again. Maggie softened. “Yes, it is hard, but I thank you for comin’. We had to face each other for the first time at some point.”
“I suppose.” She looked at Maggie. “Does that mean it’ll be easier from now on?”
“From now on?”
“Yeah. You know. Next time?” Something that looked like hope flickered in Addison’s eyes. “There’ll be a next time, won’t there?”
Would there be? It had taken a friend dying for this moment to take place. They had a lot of friends, but most of them were relatively healthy. In her fatigued state, the thought struck Maggie as humorous. She laughed softly.
“What’s funny?” Addison asked, a questioning smile playing on her lips.
“Nothin’. I’m very tired. My thinkin’ isn’t right.” Maggie watched as Addison absently petted Baxter. She considered how good it would feel to have Addison’s hands massaging her neck and shoulders, stroking her back. She wanted so much to ask her to hold her, but it was all too confusing. She knew she would break down in Addison’s arms and she wouldn’t be able to control what came out—the dragon, the tears…or who knew what? “Of course there will be a next time. And yes, it will be easier.”
Addison nodded then looked down at Baxter. “When is Pete’s service?”
“Saturday.” Maggie was relieved at the change of subject. “Ricardo’s sister was still workin’ out the time when I left.”
Addison hesitated. “Would you like to go together?” Her voice was low, barely above a whisper.
Maggie wasn’t sure she had heard correctly. “Together? You and me?” she asked.
“No, you’re right,” Addison said quickly. “It’d probably be too—”
“Yes,” Maggie interrupted. “That would be nice.”
Addison looked up and smiled. “Great. Just let me know what time, and I’ll pick you up.”
“I will. Thank you.”
Their eyes met and for just an instant the characteristic ease of their relationship enveloped them. The next instant it was gone. An awkward silence stretched between them.
Addison looked back at Baxter.
“Are you goin’ to your folks’ house for Thanksgivin’ next week?” Maggie asked, trying to sound light. She hoped the question didn’t backfire on her and bring up any plans Addison might have with Victoria Fontaine, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say that didn’t have the potential for the same feared topic.
“No, they’re cruising. Besides, I haven’t mentioned…” Addison looked out the windows.
“Well, if you’ve no other plans,” Maggie said in a rush to ward off any further confessions, “you’re welcome to join us for Thanksgiving dinner.” There, she had said it. She braced herself for the answer.
Addison squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, they shimmered with tears. “I’d like that. Thank you, Maggie.”
“This is still your home, daw—” The sting of the endearment was too sharp for her to continue. Was Addison still her dawtie? She also wanted to add, for now, but she refrained. “We’ll be havin’ dinner on Friday rather than Thursday so Eve and Sammi can join us. They’ll both be with their little ones on Thursday.”
Addison raised an eyebrow. “That’s going pretty well, I gather.”
“Oh, yes. They seem quite taken with each other.” Maggie felt a twinge of envy as she remembered the two of them giggling on the sofa one evening the previous week. “Things are movin’ right along, from what I can tell.”
“That’s great.” Addison studied Maggie. “What are you doing on Thursday?” she asked.
“Tess and I are goin’ to the canyon in the mornin’ for some time in the mountains and a walk up to the waterfall. Then we’ll start on the pies when we get home.” Maggie saw a flash of resignation in Addison’s eyes. What had she been thinking? “Tess is considerin’ invitin’ JoAnn for Thanksgivin’ as well.”
“JoAnn?”
“Mm-hm. The woman she brought to the Halloween party? Remember?” The words flopped down between them like a dead bird out of the sky, the harbinger of the very moment they had both been working so hard to avoid.
“Oh.” Addison shifted on the couch. “Yeah, I remember.” She cleared her throat.
Maggie knew she was lying. She could probably count on one hand the things Addison remembered from that night and Tess’s date certainly would not be among them. “She might join us, too.”
“Is Tess getting serious about her?” Addison glanced around the room, her gaze landing anywhere but on Maggie.
“I think it’s too soon to tell, but she is enjoyin’ spendin’ ti
me with her.” Maggie needed this time with Addison to come to an end. She was glad Addison had stopped by and that they had gotten their first conversation over with. She was especially happy they would be saying good-bye to Pete together and sharing Thanksgiving—both showed promise—but she had endured all she could manage for now. She needed some sleep and some distance.
Addison seemed to feel it, too. “I should take off and let you get some rest.” She rose.
“I appreciate you stoppin’ by.” Maggie moved toward the doorway. “I’ll let you know about the service as soon as I get all the information.” She crossed the foyer and opened the front door.
Addison stepped outside. “Thank you, Maggie,” she said softly.
Maggie knew it was for more than the time of the service. She nodded. She watched Addison descend the front steps then closed the door. She couldn’t bear the sight of her driving away.
After filling Baxter’s food dish and wiping a few Fruity Pebbles off the kitchen counter—remnants, she assumed, from Dusty’s breakfast—she went upstairs, changed into one of Addison’s over-sized T-shirts she wore for sleeping, and crawled into bed. The sheets were cool, the mattress soft. Baxter curled up at her feet. She expected sleep to run her over like a speeding truck, but it held back, tailgating, but never overtaking her. She tossed and turned, reliving Addison showing up at the door, remembering how badly she had wanted to feel Addison’s arms around her, rehashing all of her conflicting thoughts and emotions about Addison’s affair, their life together, and the numerous possible futures. Finally, she gave up and headed downstairs for a glass of milk or a cup of tea, something to help her sleep.
An hour later when Dusty came in from work, Maggie sat cross-legged on the sofa with a bowl of lime wedges, a salt shaker, a shot glass, and a bottle of tequila spread out on the coffee table in front of her. Four rinds lay in a row.
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