by Jae
Nothing. Rae caught the ball, then threw it again.
Oh, come on. Rae had to be seeing her, even without turning her head. There was no way she wasn’t at least in Rae’s peripheral vision. Rae was ignoring her! Steph couldn’t believe it. Were they really down to playing childish games already, just two days after moving in with each other? So much for apologizing! Forget it.
Steph whirled around and marched to the bathroom for a quick shower before heading out to her gig at a bowling alley bar.
When her doctor had first suggested tossing around a tennis ball, Rae had thought it would be boring as hell. But now she had to admit that there was something almost hypnotic about it. Granted, it wasn’t quite as soothing as swimming laps, getting lost in the feel of the water and the rhythm of her stroke, but it would have to do until she worked up the courage to jump into the pool again. Rae challenged herself by throwing the ball faster and faster until it was a yellow blur, then altered the angle to see if her brain could keep up.
When she missed and the tennis ball hit her in the nose, she decided she had practiced her hand-eye coordination enough for one day. She pulled out her earbuds and dropped them into the drawer of her nightstand along with the ball.
Time to get ready for work. She grabbed a fresh pair of black dress pants, shirt, and tie. Except for the lack of a badge or rank insignia, her work clothes weren’t all that different from the uniform she had worn for fourteen years, yet somehow it felt worlds apart.
With a sigh, she pushed the bathroom door open—and froze.
She had thought Steph was still out and about, but apparently, she had returned while Rae had been practicing with the tennis ball. Now she was in the bathroom, her clothes strewn carelessly around her, leaving her in only a black bra and a pair of panties that didn’t match.
Weird what kind of details Rae’s brain latched on to when on overload—and it definitely was. It had been a while since she’d seen a woman in this state of undress, and this one…wow. Her skin was fair despite the California sun, with only her arms and face tanned a light gold tone. Her navel piercing twinkled, drawing attention to her flat belly, and her full breasts rose softly over the cups of her bra as she sucked in a surprised breath.
For several seconds, both stood there, staring at each other.
Then Rae gave herself a mental kick, whirled around, and pulled the door closed behind her. “Sorry,” she called through the door. “I didn’t know you were…”
“Were what?” Steph asked when Rae fell silent.
Yeah, what? So beautiful? “Home,” Rae said. She shook herself out of her strange daze. It didn’t matter one bit what Steph looked like. She was a pain in the ass, even though she was kind of attractive.
“Oh, come on.”
Rae swallowed. She hadn’t said that beautiful bit out loud, had she? “Um, what’s that supposed to mean?”
“I just stood in your doorway, waving like a maniac for a full minute, and now you follow me into the bathroom because you didn’t know I was home? Yeah, right.”
Rae clenched her teeth until her jaw muscles hurt. “I didn’t see you. I swear.” Even she could hear how unlikely that sounded. She knew she should tell her, but something held her back. Maybe it was pride—Kim had always said it would be her downfall one day—or maybe something else. She wanted Steph to see her as whole, not as someone to pity.
Everything stayed silent in the bathroom.
Rae leaned against the door. Why was she even bothering? This roommate thing was so not working out.
Then Steph sighed audibly. “All right. I believe you.”
Just like that? It had been a while since someone had taken Rae at her word. The brass sure hadn’t when she had told them she could still do her job. Steph’s unexpected words made a lump form in her throat. Annoyed, she swallowed it down.
“Um, Rae?” Steph said after a moment. “While you’re still dazzled by the sight of my hotness, this might be a good moment to apologize for having an overnight guest our first night in the new apartment. I’ll try to be more considerate in the future.”
Now she had managed to stun Rae a second time. “Um, thanks. I appreciate it.” She stepped away from the door. “I’m gonna go get ready in my room. Bathroom’s all yours.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Amusement colored Steph’s voice.
Rae turned around. “Forgetting?”
“You dropped your clothes.” The door opened a few inches, and Steph’s grinning face peered out. “Here.” She passed the bundle of clothes through the gap.
“Oh. Thanks.” Rae hadn’t even noticed. Her brain really wasn’t in full working order today. It had nothing to do with what Steph was—or rather wasn’t—wearing. This roommate thing was merely a lot to adjust to.
Steph’s chuckle followed her as she walked away. “Cute blush.”
Rae stiffened. “I’m not blushing. I haven’t blushed since 1997.”
“Yeah, right,” Steph called after her. “Hey, what happened in 1997?”
“Not a thing,” Rae shouted back. “By the way, next time, lock the door.”
“Nah. Where would the fun be in that?”
CHAPTER 8
Writing jokes was not a laughing matter—at least not when you had to come up with material for a gig in a hospital. Sure, she could use some of her usual routine, but she also wanted to come up with some new jokes that were tailored to the hospital setting.
Steph lay on her belly on the couch, dangling her bare feet in the air, and flicked through her joke book, which she used to scribble down ideas or things she’d heard that struck her as funny.
Maybe something about hospital food or the ass-free gowns. Hmm. Should she call Gabe and see if he had time to brainstorm punch lines?
Just as she reached for the phone, the doorbell rang, followed by a rap at the door.
Steph jumped up and made sure the doors to their bedrooms were closed, in case it was the Kleinbergs checking up on them.
When she looked through the peephole, a woman’s slightly distorted face appeared before her. All Steph could see was a brown eye and part of the face as the woman leaned close to the peephole, but it definitely wasn’t Mrs. Kleinberg.
Steph opened the door an inch and peeked through the gap.
The woman’s flowing, rusty brown skirt and her gauzy blouse rustled as she waved at Steph. A smile deepened the laugh lines framing her eyes and mouth. “Hey there. A downstairs neighbor let us in.”
Despite the friendly greeting, Steph was sure she’d never seen the stranger in her life. Was she a Jehovah’s Witness or a salesperson? “I don’t mean to be rude, but if you’re here to sell me something, I have to confess I’m a starving artist who considers getting a new toothbrush a high-risk investment.”
A low chuckle sounded from behind the woman, and Steph realized that the stranger wasn’t alone. The tall man who was with her seemed as unusual as his companion. His graying hair hung over his broad shoulder in a ponytail, and the part of his face that wasn’t covered by a salt-and-pepper beard was deeply tanned, looking a bit like a well-worn baseball glove. A dark blue felt beret sat tilted to one side on his head. “Don’t worry. We’ve got nothing to sell. Unless you’re interested in a twenty-five-year-old RV.”
The woman excitedly clapped her hands. A braided leather bracelet dangled from her wrist. “You’re an artist? Raelynn didn’t mention that.”
“Ah, you know her,” the man said. “She never mentions much of anything. Speaks like every word is going to cost her a dollar.”
Steph stared at them. “You know Rae?” In the two weeks they had lived together, Rae had never had any visitors before.
“I’d sure hope so.” The woman laughed. “We’re her parents.”
Wide-eyed, Steph looked from the woman’s makeup-free face to the flip-flops covering her feet
despite the—for an Angeleno—chilly November weather. “You’re shitting me,” she blurted out before she could censor herself. These two couldn’t possibly be the parents of someone as somber as Rae. But then again, most people who met Steph’s parents were convinced she must be adopted too.
“Oh, I’m serious. Twenty-three-hours-of-labor serious.” The woman pointed at her companion. “This one was about to give up on the home birth idea and take me to a hospital.”
Rae’s father tried to peek around Steph. “So is our eldest home?”
“Uh, no, but I think she’ll be home soon.” Rae was definitely a creature of habit. She disappeared around the same time every day and returned home an hour later with her sweat-drenched shirt clinging to her muscular shoulders and firm breasts. Steph always made sure to hang out in the living area around that time. No harm in looking, right?
Belatedly, Steph remembered her manners. “Please come on in.” She opened the door wider and stepped back so they could enter. As she led them into the living room, her gaze darted to the three dirty mugs and the empty package of Oreos on the coffee table and her joke book, which she had tossed facedown onto the floor when the doorbell had rung. “Please excuse the mess.”
Rae’s mother waved her hand. She radiated acceptance, and again Steph couldn’t help comparing her to her brooding daughter. “Relax. We’re not the cleaning police. I always say a messy home is a happy home.”
Despite her reassurance, Steph brushed a few cookie crumbs off the couch. “Please, take a seat, Mr. and Mrs. Coleman.”
“Willett, actually,” Rae’s father said. “We’re not married. But please, call me Lonnie. And that’s my beautiful partner, CC.”
“CC?” Steph repeated. She felt as if her brain was stuck in slow motion.
When she went to take a seat on the worn armchair Rae had contributed to their furniture, Rae’s parents drew her down on the couch between them.
Rae’s mother shrugged. Her eyes—the same brown color as her daughter’s, just less intense—twinkled as she grinned. “Well, it’s Celeste, really, but that’s a bit of a mouthful to shout out in certain situations, so CC stuck.”
Oh God. Was Rae’s mother talking about sex? Steph decided she didn’t want to know.
CC leaned back on the couch and looked immediately at home. “So you’re a painter?”
Lonnie reached across Steph and gently poked CC. “Why would you think that? She said she’s an artist. You know there are other art forms out there, right? She could be a poet.”
Steph felt as if she had stepped into an old, good-natured argument. Was that what Rae’s parents were—a painter and a poet? “Actually, I’m neither. I’m a stand-up comedian.”
Silence spread through the living room.
Steph refused to lower her gaze. She had trained herself not to care whether people believed her job was a valid profession or not.
“Wow,” CC said. “That must be so rewarding. To create something that makes people feel such strong emotions that they burst out laughing… How powerful!”
Lonnie nodded. “Probably not that different from being a poet. I bet you put as much of yourself into your routine as I put into my poems—or CC into her paintings.”
It took a few seconds for Steph to make her vocal cords work. “I guess so.” She had never seen herself as a creative artist on the same level as a poet or a painter, but maybe they were right. “The best comedy comes from real life, so you have to make it personal.”
CC and Lonnie nodded as if they really understood.
“So is that how you met Raelynn?” CC asked. “Through your work?”
Steph tried not to giggle any time she heard Rae’s first name. “Yes. We met in the comedy club where she works.” These two were so easy to talk to that she had to cut herself off before she could tell them about asking Rae to be her fake girlfriend to fool the landlord.
“Don’t worry.” CC patted Steph’s hand. “We’re not going to judge. So what if you moved in with each other within days of meeting? Love has a way of making time irrelevant.”
Steph nearly slid from the couch. “L-love?”
Lonnie laughed. “Or lust.”
“No, no, I…we…we don’t…”
“No need for embarrassment.” Lonnie’s beard parted in a soft smile. “Love is love, as far as we are concerned. Doesn’t matter if it’s between a man and a woman, two women, or two men.”
“Or more than two people,” CC added. “We’re happy that Raelynn found someone after everything she’s been through this year.”
Steph reined in the impulse to ask about what had happened to Rae. First, she needed to clear up the misunderstanding, or Rae would kill her if she walked in and found her parents basically welcoming her as their new daughter-in-law. “Um, Rae and I, we’re just roommates.”
“Yeah, that’s what she told us when she called to tell us she moved to a new place,” CC said with a grin. Then she sobered. “Oh, wait. You mean, you’re actually just roommates?”
Wasn’t that what she had just said? Steph nodded.
“Oh. We thought…” CC slapped her forehead and chuckled. “Our daughter can be a little…repressed, so when she told us she’s moving in with a roommate”—she painted quotation marks in the air with her fingers—“we thought it was her way of telling us she had finally stopped keeping everyone at arm’s length and had taken a lover.”
Even though Steph wasn’t one to embarrass easily, her cheeks heated. “No. We share the rent, not a bed.”
Rae’s parents actually looked disappointed. Finally, CC smiled and shrugged. “Well, as Raelynn’s grandma used to say, it ain’t over till the fat lady sings. Maybe our daughter will grow on you.”
“Um…” For once, Steph didn’t know what to say.
Lonnie leaned forward, his checkered shirt stretching over his broad shoulders. “But you’re friends, right? You’re spending time with each other.”
“Kind of.”
“So how’s our little one?” he asked. “How’s she coping?”
Coping with what? Life with a roommate? Or were they talking about something else? Steph wasn’t sure how to answer that even if she had known what exactly they were asking. Rae wasn’t one for heartfelt confessions. Usually, their conversations revolved around who’d get the bathroom first in the morning or who the last yogurt in the fridge belonged to. “I guess she’s all right. She seems to really like the apartment.”
“Is she making friends at the new job?” CC asked.
Steph didn’t think so. The few times she’d been to The Fun Zone to try to talk the owner into giving her a spot, she hadn’t seen Rae talk about anything but work with her colleagues. “She’s very well-respected.”
Lonnie sighed. “Sometimes, I think we shouldn’t have moved so often when she was little. Raelynn never learned to make friends.”
“I don’t think it would have made a difference,” CC said. “There were always lots of kids around, wherever we went. Her brother had plenty of friends.”
Laughter shook Lonnie’s tall frame. “Oh, yeah, he was Mr. Popular. Remember when we thought he was selling drugs?”
A girlish giggle escaped CC. “We always tried to avoid processed food, even back then.” She tapped the empty package of Oreos. “Instead of crap like this, our kids got sunflower seeds and sprouted almonds.”
Steph couldn’t help making a face. So Rae’s parents and her own had at least one thing in common. Steph was the only one in her family who appreciated a juicy burger and syrup-covered waffles.
CC gave her a patient smile. “The kids learned to appreciate it. Or so we thought. Later, we found out that their grandmother, Lonnie’s mom, snuck them candy whenever she visited. Darrin—Raelynn’s younger brother—established an entire candy-trafficking ring.”
“Yeah, until Raelynn busted him.” A fond look
spread over Lonnie’s bearded face. “Always a stickler for law and order, even when she was little. Did she tell you the story about that little incident when she was seven and wanted to play cops and robbers and we wouldn’t let her have a toy gun?”
Steph shook her head and tried to imagine Rae at that age. She had probably been an earnest but totally cute kid. “What happened?”
Before Rae’s parents could answer, a key jingled in the lock, then the door swung open and Rae strode inside in sweat-drenched running clothes.
Now Steph would probably never find out what the story about seven-year-old Rae and the toy gun was. But the priceless expression on Rae’s face was worth not hearing that story. God, if only she could snap a photo! Steph leaned back on the couch and tried to become invisible so she could watch the interaction between Rae and her parents.
Rae stumbled to a stop one step into the apartment.
Even finding the entire team of the Los Angeles Rams in her living room couldn’t have surprised her as much as the sight that greeted her.
Her parents sat on the couch, leaning back as if they dropped by for a chat every day. Steph sat between them, looking as if she had thoroughly enjoyed her bonding time with CC and Lonnie.
Oh God. How long had they been here…and what had they talked about? Had they told Steph about the shooting? Rae’s stomach twisted into a hard knot. She took a tentative step into the room. “W-what are you doing here?”
Lonnie unfolded his tall frame from the couch. “Hi, Rae-Rae. Good to see you too.”
“I didn’t mean it to sound like I’m not happy to have you here.” As much as she didn’t like surprise visits, she was glad to see her parents—and to see that both looked well and neither had lost any of their vibrancy. “It’s just… I had no idea you were coming. What if no one had been home? You don’t exactly live around the corner.” She turned toward Steph. “CC and Lonnie live up in Oregon.” Wait a minute! Why was she offering information to Steph? She didn’t owe her roommate an explanation. But for some reason, she didn’t want Steph to think she was an ungrateful bitch of a daughter.