Where the Light Plays

by C. Fonseca

  “How did you get so wise?” She smiled, pulling Koda close for a cuddle.

  “Who? You mean me, wise? Maybe I need to take some of my own advice.”

  “Your new greenie friend?”

  Luc nodded, but didn’t elaborate. He brought the conversation back to Andi. “Caitlin seems like a great lady. Take it slow, get to know her more… Who knows?” He stood, checked his watch, and headed inside. “How did it get so late? Now, I’m going to put the kettle on and make us a cuppa. Then I’m hitting the hay. I’d like to be on the road by midday, so I thought we could catch a few early waves.”

  “I’d like that. And Luc,” she called out as she reached for her phone.

  “Yeah Sis?”

  “Thank you.”

  “Hey, what are big brothers for?”

  Andi tapped out a text before she had second thoughts.

  I’m so sorry I rushed off like an idiot. Can we talk? If you’re still interested in being friends?

  Two hours later, Andi had just about given up hope of hearing from Caitlin. Feeling miserable, she crawled into bed and snuggled close to Koda.

  Startled by the sound of a late incoming text, she reached for the phone.

  I am sorry I pushed you. Yes, let’s talk. Returned to the city early. Work stuff. I’m still interested. Caitlin

  CHAPTER 11

  Isabella’s garden, filled with colourful spring blooms, reminded Caitlin of Monet’s painting—Le Jardin de Monet à Giverny. Brightly coloured patches of flowers. Informal yet balanced.

  Through the window of her second-floor bedroom, Caitlin had a bird’s eye view of her grandaunt surrounded by yellows, pinks, lilacs, vivid oranges, and reds. In her wide-brimmed straw hat and olive-green gardening gloves as she held her pruning shears, Isabella was indulging in her favourite pastime in the morning sunshine.

  Isabella seemed most at peace here, at home in her garden, similar to Monet, who spent much of his later life in his beloved sanctuary at Giverny, France.

  Caitlin turned away from the window. Following Andi’s emotional outburst and abrupt departure yesterday evening, Caitlin had felt so wound up and unsettled that she’d returned to Melbourne. When she’d arrived late last night, Caitlin had been relieved to see Andi’s text, and she’d replied immediately. She couldn’t lie to herself. Of course she was disappointed that Andi was not prepared to have a casual relationship. At least Andi’s text offered a chance of friendship, and that was a small relief.

  Caitlin’s instincts told her the attraction was mutual. Andi had said so in her own words, but she didn’t want to explore the attraction. Caitlin had to respect her wishes. If things had gone to her plan, she would be getting to know Andréa Rey in that large, comfortable bed at Kinsale right now. Yet, here she was.

  With a frustrated sigh, she grabbed her straw hat and made her way down to the garden to join Isabella.

  “Top of the morning to you, my dear,” Isabella greeted her with a radiant smile. “This is a surprise. I didn’t expect you home so soon.” She looked at Caitlin carefully and frowned.

  “Morning, Isabella. What a beautiful morning to be out in the garden.” Caitlin leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I needed to get back to confirm a few details about the loan for Edge Gallery. The opening is this Thursday, and you know how pedantic Erica Hunt can be.”

  Isabella smiled slyly and wriggled her slightly turned-up nose. “The huntress?”

  Caitlin smirked. Isabella was not wrong to call Erica the huntress. Erica had pursued her from the moment they’d met.

  Isabella chuckled. She handed Caitlin a dark red rose. “The perfume is heaven, and so is teasing you.” Her gaze met Caitlin’s. Isabella’s eyes were deep blue, a physical characteristic they shared. “It would make me deliriously happy if you found your soulmate.”

  Caitlin looked at the perfect flower in her hand and sighed. She held it to her nose and enjoyed the heady perfume. Was there really such a thing as a perfect soulmate?

  “Let’s have a cup of tea. I have some of your favourite gingernut biscuits,” Isabella said. She placed the secateurs onto the garden trolley and removed her gardening gloves. “We’ll take our tea on the veranda; it’s getting much too hot out here for me. I’m glad to see you’re wearing a hat and protecting your beautiful complexion.”

  Caitlin held out her arm and helped Isabella onto the shady veranda.

  She carried the laden tea tray and set it down on the small table. She sat across from Isabella, who had selected her favourite high-backed cane chair.

  “Sitting here at this time of year reminds me very much of a tea party in colonial India.” Isabella shook her head from side to side; she had a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Surrounded by flowering jasmine, palm fronds, and geraniums. On our holiday in 1956, Maggie and I were entertained by a very handsome young maharajah.” Her wicked laugh echoed through the garden. “He was terribly gay of course. We had such a fabulous time that Maggie wanted to recreate part of his tea garden.”

  “I have memories of Maggie here; I loved watching her paint. It was my first trip to Australia, and I must have been about ten. It was the first time I visited my fairy godmothers Down Under.”

  “We had to keep a close eye on you even then.” Isabella chuckled as she reached for a buttery ginger biscuit. “You were such a high-spirited young miss, always up to mischief.”

  “I can’t recall that part.” Caitlin smiled. “Shall I pour the tea?”

  “Please.”

  They sat together companionably. The sun was high in the sky, and streams of light made patterns under the wide, spreading branches of the elm tree. Caitlin picked up the Belleek bone china teapot with its dainty, hand-painted shamrocks and poured the tea. She passed the delicate cup and saucer to Isabella. “I remember you serving tea to Ma, Da, and me in these beautiful cups all that time ago. I was really nervous and felt so awkward handling this precious china.”

  “Ah, but you always had an appreciation for beautiful things, Caitlin. Maggie brought the tea set from Ireland a long, long time ago. This set meant so much to her, and when she shared it with me, it felt like a wedding present.”

  “Oh, you are a hopeless romantic. Don’t you worry about breakages?”

  “In all these years, we’ve had only a few losses. The original set had thirty-four pieces, but we still have enough of them to enjoy. There are a lot of treasures in the house, Caitlin, and I trust you to take care of them.” She pushed her cup towards Caitlin for a refill. “Now, help yourself to one of Marion’s gingernuts before I eat them all, and tell me why you really came back early.”

  The cane chair squeaked as Caitlin shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She looked down into her teacup and then raised her head. Isabella was watching her intently.

  “You don’t have to read the tea leaves, darling. Has your melancholy got something to do with a particular young artist?”

  Caitlin drummed her fingernails on the teacup. “I’d hoped to see her again, and I did. I invited Andi and her brother to Kinsale for dinner.” Caitlin pushed her hands through her hair. “Then yesterday, Andi and I had lunch together at Big Blue in Lorne and spent the afternoon walking at Sheoak Falls.”

  “Sounds like you had a marvellous time. Which makes me all the more curious; why did you cut short your visit?”

  Caitlin had thought Andi wanted the same thing, but she clearly didn’t. Yesterday evening, when Andi had rejected Caitlin, her beautifully expressive eyes were close to tears. She’d caught her lip between her teeth and lowered her eyes.

  What did she expect after two dinners and a day spent together? An affair? Why should Andi risk her emotions for physical pleasure? Caitlin’s inner voice chastised her.

  “I guess I want something I can’t have,” Caitlin said.

  “Oh really? You’ll have to tell me more. It’s not like you to give up so quickly on something you want.” Isabella’s observation was correct, but Caitlin knew she might not have a choice this time.
/>   “Andi is hesitant to take a step forward, and I don’t know how I feel.” She drew in a breath and exhaled slowly. Caitlin wanted to sleep with Andi. Dammit. But was she willing to offer more? “I usually know what I want. Casual has always worked for me.”

  “So Andréa…Andi, is not willing? You haven’t known her very long, so that does seem reasonable,” Isabella said.

  Caitlin shook her head. “I suppose that is true.”

  “Casual has been your modus operandi for the last few years, hasn’t it?”

  “I moved around a lot after my relationship with Rachel ended. A year in Paris, three months in Italy, and then New York for almost a year. As I knew I wasn’t staying, it was easier not to get too involved with anyone.”

  Isabella nodded and gently patted Caitlin’s forearm. “But you did meet and spend…time with many different people over the years, I gather? Surely some of those women wanted more of a commitment from you?”

  “Most of the time, no. It was mutually beneficial for both, or so I thought. A couple of times, it got a bit uncomfortable, and I knew it was time to move on. But I have kept in touch with a few women, and they’ve remained good friends.”

  “No strings attached?” asked Isabella in a gentle tone. “I’ve never really understood the term. Don’t get me wrong, I can understand when you’re in a good place with your career and social life, and all that’s missing is sex—it may work. But for how long?”

  Caitlin raised her eyebrows. “I guess it has worked for me. But I admit it’s not ever like that—no strings. There is a difference between a hook-up and a casual relationship.”

  “What is the difference? How would you define a casual relationship?” Isabella asked.

  “I like to think that in any relationship, even when it is casual, you share a friendship, fun, companionship—and respect.”

  “If Andi is saying she doesn’t want a casual relationship, how do you feel about that?”

  Caitlin stood up and leaned against the veranda post. She stared out into the garden. “I’m not sure, Isabella. I’m restless. Apart from the fact that Andi is beautiful and passionate about her art—she speaks to me.” She turned to her grandaunt. “Even though we haven’t known each other long, I must admit I am beginning to question what I do want. And…” She looked down at her feet.

  “And?”

  “Andi is young, she is only thirty.”

  Isabella laughed. “And you are thirty-eight—so what?”

  “She was hurt, only a year ago, when her girlfriend went home to Germany and cut off all contact.” Caitlin avoided the question about Andi’s age. Why did it matter?

  “Of course Andi is scared to take a risk. If you want to deepen your friendship, you’ll have to be patient.” She coaxed Caitlin back into the chair beside her. “If life was a script…we would know what came next, and we could plan accordingly. But my darling, it isn’t scripted, and you know what? It wouldn’t be half the adventure if it were. So…”

  “So?” repeated Caitlin.

  Isabella’s face was calm and serene as she looked at Caitlin. “I have no doubt that you can attract all the company you want, but everything worth having takes patience. Here’s the secret, Caitlin; you have to take the risk. You have to open your heart.”

  Caitlin laughed. “I’d prefer to be in the driver’s seat when it comes to my emotions.”

  “Are you scared of feeling more than just a superficial physical attraction?” Isabella asked.

  “It appears that I am.” She stared at her hands. “Being here for a relatively short time, I don’t want my life to be complicated. And I don’t want to complicate Andi’s life, either.”

  Isabella tossed her hands in the air. “Complicated, Caitlin. Isn’t that what makes life richer? You’re going to have to take one day at a time. Keep in contact. Use all those twenty-first century, thingy-me what’s-its. Texts, emails, video chat.” She slapped her knee. “I have an excellent idea. In two weeks, the Women in Arts Foundation is having their annual fundraiser. We always support the event. Why don’t you send young Andi a couple of tickets to the dance? Four hundred women, she might enjoy a night on the tiles.”

  Caitlin wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good idea. Four hundred women…with Andi?

  “Two weeks gives you time to get to know her a little better. It gives you a chance to practice verbal communication skills, for a change.” Isabella grinned.

  Two weeks—would Andi even accept her invitation?

  CHAPTER 12

  “The waves are huge today,” Ellie called as she paddled out before duck-diving under the breakers.

  Andi passed smoothly through the swell, surfaced, and yelled out over the booming surf, “Yep, we’ve been lucky so far, but the ocean will go flat now between sets. Do you want to sit around out here and wait for another?”

  They had caught a couple of good sets earlier, when the waves had peaked at over four feet. Andi knew to avoid the rip current that could pull a less experienced surfer out to sea. They’d started the day with a seven kilometre run along the cliffs, and now, after two hours in the water, she was satisfied that her muscles had taken enough of a workout.

  “Let’s head in. I could use some lunch,” Ellie replied.

  Andi gave her the thumbs-up and approached the lineup just outside the breakers. She swung the nose of her board left to catch an oncoming wave. As it approached, she turned towards the beach, lay down flat, and started paddling. With practiced style, she pushed up with her arms and stood. Finding her balance on the shortboard, she caught the glassy wave and glided gently towards the shore.

  Andi slowly peeled the sleeves of her Roxy springsuit to her elbows, one sleeve at a time. She turned to watch as Ellie followed her in, smoothly riding through the whitewash and manoeuvring her board onto the sand. She threw a towel towards her. “It’s been too long, Ell. We haven’t done this for ages.” Andi peeled and rolled the sodden wetsuit down her torso, then pulled it over her hips and legs in one fluid motion. She stretched, enjoying the warmth of the early afternoon sun as it touched her skin.

  Ellie leaned forward so Andi could help with her zip. She struggled to get out of her wetsuit. “I can’t remember the last time I had the luxury of three days off consecutively. My schedule at the hospital for the last twelve months has been manic.”

  Andi punched Ellie playfully on the arm. “Aww, I am touched that you chose to spend them with me.”

  “Listen, you. I haven’t heard from you for weeks, apart from a few hurried text messages. Come on, I think it’s time to head to Birdie’s so you can fill me in on what’s been going on.” Ellie grabbed her gear and walked towards the steps.

  “I’m right behind you,” Andi said. She picked up her surfboard and followed.

  She’d first met Ellie at Saint Catherine’s College in Ballarat when they were thirteen years old. They were best friends and so much more… They’d even made the local paper by being the first same-sex couple to attend their graduation ball.

  “Move along, slow coach,” Ellie called. “Why are you dawdling?”

  Andi picked up her pace and jogged up the stairs.

  * * *

  They relaxed in the sun at their table on the deck. Ellie bit into her veggie burger and caught a slice of avocado with her lips as it slipped out of the toasted bun. “Oh, I’ve missed Birdie’s cooking.”

  “I thought you were going to say you’ve missed…Birdie.”

  Ellie stuck her tongue out. “There you go again, just won’t let me forget it, will you?” Andi enjoyed poking fun at Ellie about her minor misdemeanour at a party last summer when, after a couple of drinks, she’d propositioned the very straight chef.

  “Ah-ha, whatever you say.”

  Ellie stole a handful of sweet potato fries from Andi’s plate. “Let’s not forget who we’re here to talk about.” Ellie’s dark eyebrows frowned in concern. “So I get a text from you saying, ‘I’ve blown it.’ What does that mean? Since you’ve conti
nued to be evasive on the phone, I’m here in person to find out what’s going on.” She caught Andi’s wrist. “This is about Caitlin, isn’t it?”

  Andi shrugged. “I don’t know what to do. She likes me and I like her, but I don’t want to do fleeting or temporary. So I told her I’m not going there.”

  “You mean you told her you didn’t want to see her again?” Ellie asked.

  “No, I do want to see her again. As friends.”

  “Okay. But it’s not because you’re not attracted to her, right?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Then why? Is it because she’s passing through?” Ellie narrowed her eyes. “But doesn’t Caitlin have a job in Melbourne?”

  “Yes, but she is only here in Australia for another eight months, give or take. She has a position back home as a lecturer in art history at Cork University.”

  Ellie shook her head. “Okay, that is something. But a lot can happen in eight months.”

  “Yeah, a lot can happen—and then she goes back to Ireland.” Andi lowered her eyes. “Ellie, I don’t know if Caitlin is the kind of woman I can have only a physical relationship with.” Andi looked up and shrugged. “It’s not worth it.”

  Ellie reached for Andi’s hand. “If you actually thought that, you wouldn’t be wearing your sad hat. I’ve learned that life is totally unpredictable, and sometimes we have to take chances. Have you talked to her lately?”

  Andi nodded. “I got an email this morning. It was friendly. She’d promised to send me some information for the exhibition, which she did.”

  “That’s good, then, isn’t it?”

  “Yep, it is good. I’d like to keep in touch with her.”

  Ellie rolled her eyes. “Keep in touch? Are you really sure that’s all you want?”

  Andi leaned back in her chair and looked up at the vast blue sky. “She has a way of looking at me that makes me lose concentration—it’s as though we’re sharing a secret, except I don’t know what it is. She has the most expressive eyes. They dance. And her eyebrows seem to have a life of their own. It’s as though she’s about to bubble over with laughter. And…”