Mac moved over her like a master harpist, strumming her body awake from a long and lonely sleep. She cherished the quivering tips of her breasts with her lips and tongue, then returned to her mouth for a searching, heated kiss. When she finally parted Abby’s legs and touched her center, Abby gasped and turned her head on Mac’s arm, unprepared for the intensity of this first pleasure.
“Shhh, babe, be patient.”
Even through her closed eyes, Abby could feel Mac watching her face, timing her expertly, the skillful swirl of her fingers in her wetness quickening, then slowing again. It was the simplest way one woman could love another, pure and somehow deeply feminine, and Abby had imagined these very sensations for long nights.
She tried to control her breathing, but then gave up the effort because she loved the carnal wave rising in her, almost frightening in its intimate power. It crested with unstoppable swiftness, and Mac carried her into the most exquisite physical pleasure she had ever known.
It took a while to recover. Mac stroked her body soft again while she lay there panting, and then cradled Abby’s head on her shoulder.
“My goodness,” Abby gasped.
“I know.” Mac sounded proud, and so deservedly so Abby couldn’t even tease her for it.
It had been everything she’d imagined. That’s what surprised Abby most. She wasn’t used to having her fantasies fulfilled to their every nuance, but then before she met Mac she hadn’t fantasized much. She shivered happily and turned to Mac, draping one arm over her lean waist. “My goodness.”
“I know. I’m pretty damn hot.”
Abby slapped her stomach lightly and then rubbed her side with the palm of her hand. “I would like very much to make you feel like this, Macawai…”
“And you will.” Mac kissed the top of her head. “Over many nights. But this was wonderful for me, and I’m more than content. We both need sleep. Will you stay?”
“I really should brush my teeth.” Abby snickered as Mac started to protest, her eyes already drifting closed again. “Thank you for the sweet dreams to come.”
“I thank you back, querida.”
Abby’s sleep was pure and deep. She swam awake only once, near dawn, her head still resting on Mac’s shoulder. Even in the near dark she could tell that Mac was awake, motionless, staring at the ceiling.
Chapter Fourteen
“How could I tell my parents?” Tina was weeping softly, her fingers twined in those of Jo, who sat close beside her. “I spent all those years trying to convince my family that two women together is a healthy and good thing. They were just starting to accept me. How could I tell them Fran was slapping me around all the time?”
The circle was silent, a fitting response to Tina’s grief. Mac kept steady watch on the eight women’s faces, their body language, measuring how what they were hearing was affecting them. Abby, who was co-facilitating this group, was monitoring carefully too, and Mac knew she realized this was an important night.
Tina and Jo had been there for several months when Mac arrived. Tina was always caring and supportive in group when the other women talked about their pain, but tonight was the first time she was sharing her own.
“And we don’t live in a big city. Our lesbian community’s real small.” Tina lifted her tear-streaked face. “Some of my friends didn’t even believe me. They said women aren’t like guys, we’re not violent. Jo believed me, though. She’s the one who convinced me that I’m a good person and I don’t deserve to get hurt or be scared all the time.”
The look that passed between Tina and Jo was rich with love, and Mac checked the faces around them again. Degale was watching the two women with compassion, which surprised Mac not at all. So were most of the others, which pleased her. Even Inez, the traditional Catholic, was listening respectfully.
“But now, see, Jo has lost all her friends too. We can’t tell anyone where we are because they might let it slip to Fran, and she’d come after us.”
“Real friends will still be there for you, baby, even if they can’t help you right now.” Degale rocked gently in the hickory rocking chair. “Don’t you give up on them yet.”
“Yeah, and even if they can’t help, you’re the nicest girl in this place, Tina.” Danny spoke up, a rare and encouraging event. “You’ll make friends wherever you go. Jo sucks, of course, but everyone loves you.”
A ripple of warm laughter eased the room, because everyone knew the friendship that was starting to form between Danny and Jo allowed such kidding. Tina laughed too, and then slumped back in her chair with a look of relief. Mac caught her eye and winked, congratulating her on finding the courage to speak, and Tina smiled back.
Private conversations began to emerge among the women. Mac looked at Abby and raised her eyebrows, asking if this was a good time to stop. Abby glanced at the grandfather clock and nodded. They read each other’s silent signals easily now. Then Mac held Abby’s gaze for just a shade too long, the few seconds it took for the group to melt away and leave them alone in the room. The corner of Abby’s mouth lifted, and Mac knew she could read the banked desire in her eyes.
“Okay.” Mac pulled her attention to the clock as it chimed the hour. “Thanks for some good work tonight, everybody. Remember, we can still use some help unloading our grocery run tomorrow. Have a nice evening.”
The murmuring dismissal that followed was friendly and relaxed, one sign of a group meeting well spent. Some of the women helped Mac and Abby return the chairs to the storage closet, while others collected coffee mugs to take to the kitchen. Danny was doing a great job keeping the lower level clean, and the hardwood floor gleamed with polish, but Mac appreciated everyone pitching in.
Mac stood at the bay window over the breakfast nook, letting Abby usher the last of the residents out of the house. The sun was lingering longer now as Virginia’s winter faded, but judging by the rose tint in the sky, twilight was close. Mac went to the hall closet in the entry for her denim jacket.
Abby strolled over to her. “If you heard that growling during group, it was my stomach, not a lurking cougar. I thought we’d heat up that nice ham Scratch brought us Sunday.”
“Sounds bueno. Sandwiches for weeks.” Mac shook her hair out from under her collar. “I’m going to go spring Cleo from the kids’ room, then I thought I’d take a walk.”
“Dinner will be waiting when you get back.” Abby touched Mac’s arm. “Unless you’d like some company, on your walk? You look very thoughtful this evening.”
“Good thoughts, mostly.” Mac slid her arms around Abby’s waist. Heated glances in group aside, they didn’t share even mild expressions of affection when residents were present, and it was nice to have the privacy to do so again. “Thoughts about a certain wild woman in my bed.”
“Oh, those thoughts.” Abby relaxed against her. “Yes, your bed has occurred to me too. Several times, in the past few days. During the most inopportune moments, might I add.”
Mac dipped her head and brushed her lips against Abby’s throat. “We’re getting pretty vocal in there, these nights. We might need to consider putting in some insulation, what with Cleo and Danny and God and everyone right down the hall.”
Abby lifted her chin, and Mac skimmed her lips toward her ear. “Oh, let them pay admission to listen at your door. We can hang a little donation box outside your room.” Abby laughed softly, then pressed against Mac’s chest. Mac lifted her head and looked at her. “Thank you for the two roses I found on my desk this morning, Macawai. You have the nicest instincts for romance.”
“You know, I really haven’t, before now.” Mac thought about this, rocking Abby slightly. She couldn’t remember making many romantic gestures when she was with Hattie. So far, she and Abby were blending together as easily as the leaves of one of Abby’s finer teas. “I can’t say I’ve ever been that great with love poems and flowers and such. But something about you must be bringing out my sappier side.”
“I bring out your sap?” Abby frowned. “That’s y
our notion of a romantic line?”
“I also left wild daisies in your enema bag.” Mac stopped Abby’s snort of laughter with a kiss, and Abby’s arms grew more snug around her waist. Mac had only intended a light peck, but the kiss stretched and grew and took on a rather sordid life of its own, and they both gasped when Mac finally raised her head.
“I think I should either go on that walk,” Mac murmured, “or both of us should go upstairs for an hour, and let the ham be damned.”
“Go, go.” Abby tapped Mac’s shoulders, and she released her. “I’d rather have your undivided attention after lights out.”
“Yes’m.” Mac kissed her forehead, then went to the front door.
“Hey?” Abby clasped her hands behind her and leaned back against the entry post. “You’re not limited to sharing only the good thoughts, Mac.”
“Hmm?”
“If anything’s troubling you.” Abby lifted her shoulder. “I just want you to know I’d like to listen.”
“Honey, what makes you think something’s bothering me?” Mac realized she was pulling open the front door even as she spoke. “I’m a little stiff after an hour on that folding chair, that’s all. Everything’s fine.”
“Okay.” Abby nodded. “It’s just that you haven’t slept very well, the last few nights. Just when I’ve conquered my own insomnia, it seems to have claimed you. Maybe a good brisk walk will tire you out a bit.”
“If it doesn’t, maybe you can take care of tiring me out a bit later.” Mac waited until Abby smiled, and then she winked and closed the door behind her.
Mac stepped down off the front deck and thrust her hands in her pockets against the lingering chill in the air. She wondered, as she walked toward the east wing, if there was a correct way to explain to her practical new lover that she was having dreams about a ghost.
Not nightmares, just crazy, disorienting dreamscapes, filled with noise. Mac found it impossible to describe, even to herself. She heard words in these dreams, but no voices. And either the words were nonsensical or she couldn’t remember them in the morning. She didn’t doubt she was tossing and turning enough to disturb Abby.
“Hi, Mac!”
“Hi, Lena-Angelina.” Mac rested her hand on the little girl’s head as she and Inez passed her on their way out of the playroom. Most of the kids had already been picked up by their mothers after group, but Mac could see little Waymon was still there, and he was still an unrepentant knee hugger.
Cleo folded her arms and sighed in feigned martyrdom as Degale peeled her grandson off her lower leg. “Night, Waymon.”
“Bye, Cleeeee-owe!” Waymon apparently loved Cleo’s name, and hooted it at every opportunity.
“Come on, little man.” Degale grasped Waymon’s pudgy hand. “You’re gonna help me pick up the toys in your bedroom before we have supper.”
“Yes!” Waymon agreed promptly, probably not fully understanding his grandmother’s agenda, but an unstoppably sunny child nonetheless. Mac waved to them as she and Cleo started straightening the cluttered room.
“Well, I didn’t resort to spiking their orange juice with Nyquil, but it was a close call.” Cleo flipped open a toy chest and tossed a few blocks inside. “I swear, Macky-wai, we need a child advocate on this staff before these kids give me cholesterol.”
Mac made sure the windows were locked as she listened to Cleo crab on, sympathetic but unconcerned, knowing the kids were in excellent hands when Cleo watched them. The three of them tried to rotate evening childcare duties to accommodate support groups or other necessary appointments, and it could be damn tiring to run herd on a room full of them at the end of a long workday.
“Abby’s lighting a fire under that ham, up at the house.” Mac snapped off the lights, and Cleo shook out her keys and locked the playroom. “Go dig in. But leave a few tattered shreds of pork for me, please, I’ll be back soon.”
“You want ham, be at the table.” Cleo slipped her hoodie over her head. “You can have whatever Abby leaves of her half.”
Mac watched Cleo walk toward the house. “Cleo?”
Cleo turned back to her and rolled her eyes, a wicked Danny imitation. “Yes, glutton, we’ll save you some pork.” Then she snickered, acknowledging Mac might have more on her mind than dinner, and waited until she joined her in the open yard. The breeze wasn’t strong, but it was very cold for late March, and they both huddled with crossed arms.
Mac studied Cleo’s face, and saw nothing but friendly interest. “You know what’s happening between me and Abby, right?”
“You mean what’s been happening since the day you moved in? Right.”
Mac grinned. “I believe you warned me against this, on my first day. Professional boundaries, and all that.”
“Oh, hell.” Cleo turned to take in the sunset over the ridge of trees bordering the west end of their property. “Who am I to slam anyone on professional boundaries? And who knew Abby was going to turn out to be a sister? That girl didn’t give off a single gay vibe for months. I’m good, I’d have noticed.”
“Cleo.” Mac appreciated her light tone. “We need to talk about how this thing between Abby and me might affect Fireside. And you. It already has, in small ways, just the last few weeks.”
“Like how?”
“Like you leaving the house more often at night, to give us time alone.”
“Just how do you know I don’t have a hot mama in Fredericksburg?”
“Cleo.”
“Okay.” Cleo rocked on her heels beside her, looking thoughtful. “Mac, I’m not worried about Fireside, where you and Abby are concerned. We can handle whatever comes up, and Viv will keep us honest. And maybe having another healthy couple on-site can be a good thing. Vivian and Scratch have been our only role models for too long.”
“Yeah?” Mac was surprised, and oddly unsettled. “What about you, though?”
“Not to worry about me, either. Or Danny.” Cleo lifted one finger. “As long as we don’t have to listen to you fight, if you ever do. And no coming to me with complaints about each other, either. I warn you now, I’ll never take sides.”
“That sounds fair.” Mac felt some relief. “So, you’re okay with all this?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Ah.” Mac waited.
“I’m not worried about Fireside, and I’m not worried about me. You know she’s falling in love with you, Mac.”
Mac’s mouth was dry. “Yeah. I’m falling back.”
“I got that.” Cleo nodded. “And listen, I’m behind this hard, for you and Abby both. I think you’re the best thing that could happen to each other. But I believe Abby had to call up some courage to let you and her finally happen. It took some moxie on her part. That first night together might have been easier for you. The time might come, though, when you’re gonna need to show some intestinal fortitude too.” She shrugged. “I care about you guys. It would be hard as hell to see either of you get hurt.”
Mac couldn’t form an answer, and after a moment Cleo bumped her gently with her shoulder.
“G’wan, take your walk and then come get some supper.”
Mac watched until Cleo mounted the front deck, scraped her boots on the mat, and disappeared into the house.
She followed the meandering trail that wound around the rough periphery of the property. They weren’t quite through with snow yet—muddy clumps of white still dotted the ground—but the season was beginning to change, to ebb toward spring. This was the only time of year that didn’t thrill Mac, these sodden, rainy weeks that were sure to contain a late frost or two before lasting warmth arrived.
She listened to her boots clock against the stone path as she watched the first stars emerge overhead. Drab weather aside, Fireside’s luck seemed to be holding well. They’d heard nothing from Sam Sherrill since his rude intrusion, so apparently he wasn’t going to fight Danny’s placement. He was out of jail on bond, but he’d made no effort to contact his daughter. Danny was back in school and catching up
on her work quickly, and that wary edge had begun to leave her gaze.
Abby’s blue eyes superimposed over Danny’s brown ones, in Mac’s mind.
Mac would never have predicted this. Not her falling for Abby, but her reaction to it. Teenagers were supposed to turn into slack-jawed imbeciles when they fell in love, but Mac was thirty fricking years old. Too old to duck behind the lockers when the cute girl came by, too young for the kind of hot flashes that went through her every time Abby walked into a room.
She was feeling all of it, every besotted emotion Mac had seen in her high school friends when they rhapsodized about their crushes. Astonished pleasure that Abby had seen fit to choose her. A constant, restless desire to be near her. An unseemly urge to announce their status to every citizen of Virginia.
But this wasn’t a crush, and these feelings ran deeper. One of the strongest was the soul-satisfying pride she had in Abby. Not just as a lover, but as a doctor and a friend. Her skills, her gentleness, her brave heart. It was an honor to love this woman, and Mac knew that to her bones.
But did Abby know how strong and sure this connection was beginning to feel for Mac? Or was she only aware of her misgivings—few of which had anything to do with Abby. Mac knew she was concerned about her. She needed to do a better job in the reassurance department, because Abby’s worries were groundless. Mac’s probably were too.
The happy certainty was that she and Abby shared a new love that grew richer every day. They had supportive friends who cared for them both. They were of the first, lucky generation of women who had a reasonable expectation of living together openly. Surely the first generation to confide in their employer with confidence, and see that confidence justified.
Mac remembered her conversation with Vivian Childs the week before.
“Coworkers fall in love all the time, Mac. Neither of you supervises the other, so there’s no ethical conflict. Of course, you and Abby will face a few unique challenges here, but we can make this work.”
Fireside Page 14