Triple Exposure

by Jackie Calhoun

  Again the adrenaline raced through Nicky, making her wonder how much stimulation her heart could assimilate. To divert Beth from her new scent, which could no doubt be attributed to Meg, she slipped out of Beth’s embrace and kissed her neck, her breasts, her belly—moving toward the mound of dark curls.

  “I don’t want to do it that way. I want to see your face. I want to kiss you,” Beth said, then gasped as Nicky’s tongue touched her gently.

  The first coupling was a frantic heads-to-tails. The second went slower, accomplished by the experienced touch of gentle, teasing fingers. They murmured their pleasure into each other’s mouths, intermingling the words with kisses. Nicky forgot everything but the moment at hand, until she and Beth lay exhausted on the damp bed.

  “Let’s shower,” she said, remembering Meg’s hidden presence. Getting to her feet, she pulled Beth upright.

  When they emerged from the shower and went outside, Meg waved to them from the pasture. She put Brittle into a slow canter and rode to where Beth and Nicky hung on the fence.

  “Glad to see you back on a horse, Meg,” Beth remarked.

  “Thanks,” Meg said, her eyes bright. “And it’s good to see you here, Beth.”

  “It feels good to be here.” Beth smiled at Nicky.

  Nicky met Meg’s gaze with a sheepish grin. A hot flush worked its way upward from her toes, suffusing her skin. Meg threw back her head and laughed, and Nicky, feeling terribly disloyal, laughed with her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The snow swirls of the previous day were gone. Brittle had arrived home on a cold, sunny day. And Meg, sitting him bareback with Tater pressed against his flank, explained, “I just had to get on him for a few minutes.”

  “Well, now that we’ve said hello we’re going inside.” Nicky, ashamed by her outburst of laughter, added, “If you want to join us, feel free. It’s frigid out here.”

  “I should go home,” Meg said without enthusiasm.

  Nicky knew that going home was on the bottom of her list of places to go and things to do, but she needed to talk with Beth. Still, her heart went out to Meg. “You’re always welcome. You know that.”

  Inside, she put some water on to heat and pulled out a couple of chairs at the kitchen table. Scrappy settled on her feet. He felt ridiculously light and wonderfully warm. “Why did you come here today?”

  Beth shrugged and gave her a wistful smile. “I just couldn’t stay away any longer. I’m on the other side of thirty-five and I’ve been sneaking around as if I’m a teenager. I told Mark I was going to see you.”

  Nicky got up to set cups of hot chocolate on the table. “What does that mean?”

  “It’s a step, don’t you think?” Beth took a deep breath. “I thought I had more courage than I do. If I leave Mark, I have to start over in some other firm. I made some discreet inquiries. There’s Robson, Brown and Jensen. They’re women and they’re interested in me. They handle a lot of divorces, custody cases, some personal injury, some criminal cases.”

  Reaching across the table, Nicky took Beth’s hands in hers. Beth’s efforts to break from Mark surprised her. Her own reaction surprised her more. She found herself questioning what she had thought she wanted, which was a live-in relationship with Beth. Having been on her own since leaving the university, she had never had to answer to anyone, hadn’t had to temper her friendships. But she was jumping the gun. Beth hadn’t suggested moving in with her, just finding a different place of employment. She should be enormously pleased.

  “And Matt?”

  Beth’s eyes swam with tears, her chin quivered and her voice shook. “I don’t know. Maybe he won’t even want to live with me.” Looking down at her hands, she drew another deep breath. “We’ll just have to see. I can’t stay there for that reason alone. It’s not healthy for him.” She snorted. “It’s not healthy for any of us. All that angry tension when Matt’s within hearing, the fierce little fights when he’s out of the room. It’s an explosive situation.”

  Nicky was reminded of Meg and Denise. “If you move out, will you come here?”

  “Nicky, I can’t live with you. Please understand. Not right away anyway. If I have a place of my own, I might get Matt at least part of the time.”

  Hiding her relief behind sympathy, she replied quickly, “Hey, it’s okay. At least we’ll get to spend more time together, and we’ll be able to talk on the phone whenever we want.” They could do neither of those things now, not without covert action. Such freedom would feel like luxury. “How long can you stay?”

  “What’s for supper?” Beth grinned.

  “Besides me?” Nicky inquired with an answering grin. “Ragu spaghetti.”

  “Even that sounds good. God, I’ve missed you. It got me going, this enforced separation. I wanted to have something to offer you when I saw you again.”

  “You sure surprised me,” Nicky remarked wryly.

  Now that Beth had made up her mind to move, she astonished Nicky by speedily putting her plans into action. She took the offer from Robson, Brown and Jensen, gave notice at Forrester & Forrester. She said over the phone, “I doubt if there ever would have been three Forresters on the sign.” She had never told Nicky she wanted to be made a partner.

  “Well, maybe there’ll be a Forrester at the end of Robson, Brown and Jensen someday. Or are you taking back your maiden name?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m known in the profession by my married name.”

  Beth would be moving at the end of the month. She had found a two-bedroom apartment. Until then, she and Mark were sleeping in separate rooms and staying out of each other’s way. She didn’t want the expense of the house, she said. Matthew would stay with her only on weekends, which, Nicky realized, would limit her time with Beth to mostly weeknights.

  December arrived and Beth’s hired movers loaded her belongings in a Ryder truck during a snowstorm and carried them to her new place. Nicky and Meg helped unload and arrange the furniture to suit Beth. They moved the couch three times, the double bed twice, the hutch four times, the television to every wall and corner in the living room.

  Nicky said crossly, “How can you make so many major decisions and not know where to put the TV? For Christ’s sake, Beth, make up your mind. I’m worn out.”

  “I’ll give you a massage later,” Beth whispered in her ear.

  “What about Meg?”

  “She’ll have to settle for pizza,” Beth said.

  Nicky looked at Meg’s flushed cheeks and smiling gray eyes and became confused. She was happiest when Meg was with them. She wasn’t sure when that had happened and didn’t want to consider what it meant. She didn’t admire Meg the way she did Beth, but she loved Meg’s sense of fun.

  There’s always a snag, she thought. Where Beth was decisive, Meg waffled. It drove Nicky crazy to watch Meg make up her mind to leave Denise after a particularly bad fight, only to change it when Denise was contrite.

  That night, while the wind howled mournfully outside the windows, driving snow in blinding sheets, Beth cried uncontrollably in Nicky’s arms. Meg had departed early in order to feed and check on the horses and to make sure Natalie was around to take care of Scrappy.

  “You can always go back to him,” Nicky murmured, meaning only to comfort. She gave up any hope for the promised massage, sure that Beth had forgotten.

  “You don’t understand. I can’t go back. I don’t even want to,” Beth wailed, her words punctuated by sobs. “I left my son. This is his first night without me.” She curled into an inconsolable ball.

  “I’m sorry.” Nicky wondered why she had thought this would be a beginning for them. There was all this grieving to get through. Rolling onto her back, she put her arms over her face. Maybe they should just try to sleep. But hearing the wind beat snow against the windows, she got up and went to look.

  The raging storm made her feel wrapped in a white cocoon. She hoped Tater and Brittle had had enough sense to seek shelter. Perhaps Meg had shut them in the lot with ope
n access to the barn. She could see nothing beyond the moving wall of snow outside the glass, its cold penetrating the pane.

  “I don’t want you to think I’m blaming you> Nicky.”

  She turned to see Beth raised on an elbow, looking at her out of red-rimmed eyes. She had given a lot of thought to this and didn’t hold herself responsible. “Beth, you can go against your nature only so long. You could stay and try to make Mark and Matthew happy, but it won’t work if you’re not happy, if it’s not what you want.”

  “But maybe I didn’t try hard enough.” When Nicky shook her head and smiled sadly, she said, “I know you’re right. I just feel shitty and selfish.”

  Nicky returned to sit on the edge of the bed. “Maybe this is kinder than hanging on and giving Mark hope and a half-assed relationship. He can find himself a woman who wants him.”

  Beth pulled her flat on the bed and kissed her. “You should have become a shrink.”

  “Oh, sure.” She laughed derisively, thinking that she was the one who needed counseling. Here she was with Beth, missing Meg. Did she miss Beth when she was with Meg? She tried to recall.

  Beth rolled onto her stomach, holding herself up on her forearms. Tears gone, she looked at Nicky with loving eyes. “You know, we don’t have to rush anymore. We can make love slowly and as often as we want. Do you think it will become less exciting?”

  Nicky touched her nose. “It’s red. Why is it so disturbing when someone cries?”

  “I won’t cry anymore tonight.”

  “Come here. Let’s see if it’s less exciting.” She recalled the heart-stopping lovemaking first with Meg and then with Beth as Meg hid in the closet. She hoped she didn’t want that kind of excitement.

  Nicky and Doreen put their heads together to decide how much and what kind of film to purchase for the Quarter Horse banquet. Nicky talked to Janet Larson about what was expected. Most of her photography had been shot outside. This would be inside at night. She had to guess right about lighting.

  Meg rode with Nicky in her truck, leaving around eleven the second Saturday morning of the month. They drove to Doreen’s apartment and she followed them to Pheasant Hill Resort north of Milwaukee.

  While unloading their equipment and carrying it into the banquet hall, Nicky looked at the grounds surrounding the complex of buildings. She saw no wild game, just a well-groomed landscape with a swimming pool and golf course.

  Nicky would not have recognized Janet Larson had she not met them inside the large room and introduced herself. She looked out of character in her dressy clothes. Several familiar-looking people were decorating and getting ready for the awards ceremony.

  “It’s good you’re here early,” Janet said.

  “I’d like to take before, during and after shots,” Nicky explained.

  “What a good idea,” Janet said. “I knew you were the right person to do this.” She turned to Meg. “Glad to see you, too. I felt so bad when your horse disappeared.”

  “Thanks again for the tip. I just wish I knew who took him.”

  Janet remarked dryly, “I think we’d all like to know. It’s hard to lock a barn.”

  Nicky began photographing. They had spent a lot of money on film, perhaps too much, but this job would give them an idea of what to charge. As the hall filled up, Doreen picked up a camera and also filmed. Meg took Doreen’s job of jotting down the names of those photographed.

  They paused briefly to eat. Then the speeches and awards presentation began. Meg had to stop taking notes long enough to accept three awards: a huge traveling trophy for Amateur Rookie of the Year, smaller ones for a third place in Amateur Western Pleasure and a fourth in Amateur Horsemanship.

  During the accompanying applause, Nicky’s camera lens blurred. When it cleared, she caught Meg’s expression and thought it an interesting mix of emotions. But she didn’t have time to ask her about her feelings until they were in the truck going home late that night.

  “The support felt good, but I couldn’t help thinking how different it might have been if Brittle hadn’t disappeared.”

  “Maybe next year you’ll be All-Around Amateur.” Nicky caught glimpses of Meg in the passing headlights—her forehead and cheekbones, the halo of pale hair.

  Meg grunted. “I just want to stop worrying about Brittle disappearing again. Did you like filming the banquet?”

  “Yeah, I did.” She could see herself doing that sort of thing for a living.

  It was four a.m. when they reached the farm. In the windless night under a sky filled with stars, they stood briefly by the pasture fence picking out of the dark the forms of Brittle and Tater. Their breath froze on the icy air.

  Nicky hadn’t realized how tired she was until they went inside. Meg helped her carry in the camera, the bags of film, the tripod and extra lighting. They dumped it all in a corner of the kitchen while Scrappy danced a welcome around her.

  “I’m not going home tonight,” Meg said.

  “It’s awfully late. Why drive anymore?”

  “Exactly. But I may not go home at all, except to get my things when Denise is at work.”

  Nicky wasn’t in the mood for a discussion. “Let’s talk about it tomorrow. There’s the other bedroom downstairs here. It’s got a lot of junk in it, but there’s a bed. Why don’t you sleep there tonight?”

  The phone’s insistent ringing dragged Nicky out of sleep, and Denise’s voice demanding, “Let me speak to Meg,” brought her instantly awake. Nicky looked at the clock. Six-thirty. Still dark.

  “I’ll get her.” Crossing the living room to the other bedroom, she shook Meg awake.

  “Tell her I’m not here.”

  “She knows you are. Come on, Meg, I don’t want to be in the middle of this. Take it in the other room.” Nicky hung up the bedroom phone and burrowed under the covers. The cold floors made her feet ache. Drafts chasing through the old house chilled the rest of her. She heard Meg’s voice rising and falling, angry and plaintive.

  Then Meg was sitting on her bed, waking her again. “She’s going to tell the people at work.”

  “Tell them what?” Nicky asked, feeling drugged.

  “That I’m a lesbian.”

  “What? You could do the same to her.”

  “She says she doesn’t care, that she’ll destroy me if I leave her.” Meg looked desperate. “She makes scenes.”

  Nicky knew that. “So you stay with her?” she asked, incredulous.

  “I don’t know. Go back to sleep.”

  “I’m wide awake,” Nicky complained. “Promise me something. That you won’t leave here until I do get up.”

  “It’s a deal.”

  A few hours later, after an exhausted sleep, one look told her that Meg had not closed her eyes since Denise’s phone call. She had made coffee, though, and poured a cup for Nicky.

  “Have you come to any decisions?”

  “I’ll stay here if that’s still okay.”

  “It’ll be nice to have you.”

  Beth, however, wasn’t thrilled with the plan. “She just needs a place to stay. And you won’t live with me,” Nicky said defensively. They were at Beth’s apartment.

  “That’s the problem. I’m not there.”

  “Oh, so no one should be with me. Isn’t that generous of you?”

  “Natalie’s with you.” Beth gave her an appraising look, which Nicky met. She capitulated. “Forget it. You’re right. You shouldn’t have to live alone.”

  Nicky reached for her. Her feelings were so torn between Beth and Meg that she was riddled with guilt. And right now, perversely, she wanted to be at the farmhouse just to make sure Meg had not acceded to Denise’s demands that she go back to her.

  “Let’s go to bed, sweetie.” In all the years that Beth had lived with Mark, she and Nicky had not actually slept together, had only climbed into bed to make love, had longed to fall asleep after the loving.

  When the phone call came from Meg, Nicky half-expected to hear that she was returning to Denise.


  “I’m sorry to bother you two, but something’s wrong with Brittle, and Tater’s deathly sick. I need help.”

  “Did you call the vet?”

  “Yes. Just get here quick. Okay?”

  “I’ll come with you,” Beth said as Nicky put on the clothes she had just removed.

  “You have to work tomorrow.”

  “So does Meg and so do you. Or don’t you want me to help?”

  “Of course, I do. Meg said to hurry.”

  When Nicky and Beth burst into the barn, they found Dan and Natalie, Meg and the veterinarian, Brittle and Tater, all standing among the empty stanchions. Tater’s legs were trembling, and Brittle’s head hung nearly to the cement floor. It looked like Meg had plenty of help. “What’s wrong?”

  The vet, who was rolling up a long stomach tube and putting it in a pail, answered her. “They’re colicking. I oiled them.” He turned to Meg. “I’ll leave you some intramuscular pain medication. Keep them from rolling if you can. Call me if they get any worse. Time will tell now.” An icy wind swept inside as he went out the door.

  “We have to walk them,” Meg said bleakly, “to keep them from going down. Tater’s especially bad. We’re going to need a lot of help if anyone’s going to sleep tonight.”

  Dan seemed to be holding the pony on his feet by sheer force. “I don’t know if he’s going to make it.”

  Puzzled, Nicky asked, “But why? What happened?”

  Meg glared at her. “I wish I knew.”

  “Usually this occurs when they eat too much grain or alfalfa, or something moldy,” Dan explained patiently. “Horses have small stomachs and miles of intestines. They get impacted easily.”

  Nicky thought she had never been so cold in her entire life nor endured such a long night. Even with five of them rotating, two hours at a time, she was exhausted from the frigid temperatures and the physical effort. And Meg refused to leave Brittle for more than a short break. They dragged the horse and pony up and down and around the stanchions, whipping them to their feet whenever they went down and tried to roll.

  “Why can’t they rest?” Nicky asked, crying from fatigue and the pain she had to inflict. Tater’s legs had just crumpled under him.