Denial

by Jackie Kennedy

  With a little coaxing, Amy showed Celeste the design plans for the house, explaining her inspirations, and detailing what was still to happen.

  Coming close to Amy, Celeste looked at the plans. “Josh mentioned the house was being put forward for some sort of award for green homes in Florida.”

  Amy nodded. “A lot of that’s due to your dad, Celeste,” she replied. “I owe him big-time. I would never have managed without his help. He gave me a crew, and he was the one that negotiated this acre of infill redevelopment.”

  “Yeah, he’s a generous guy,” Celeste said. “Tell me about the green aspects of the house.”

  “Well,” Amy began. “Most of the house is built from materials from the local area. We’ve recycled construction waste onsite to create our own mulch. We’ve saved and transplanted trees, including live oaks and magnolias, and where possible used engineered lumber made from shredded wood or junk trees.” Amy looked at Celeste, and catching her eyes blushed. “I’m sorry, I could go on forever.”

  “I want to hear more,” Celeste replied, leaning against the kitchen counter. “I’m impressed. This place is something else.”

  Amy watched Celeste’s shirt pull against her breasts as she rested her hands on the counter. “There’s a whole-house vacuum and there’s automatic faucets.”

  Suddenly aware that she was staring at Celeste’s chest, Amy focused quickly on the floor. Embarrassed, she cleared her throat. “Uhmm, and the bamboo flooring is renewable, maturing in five years rather than the typical thirty for traditional wood.”

  “Sustainability, I like it,” Celeste said staring intently at Amy.

  Amy locked eyes with Celeste.

  “Tell me more.”

  “Ermm, there’s also cork flooring throughout, which is harvested without harming the plant. The lighting,” Amy added, feeling flustered as she flicked a switch on and off, “uses less energy, generates less heat, and lasts longer than normal lighting.” She pointed upward. “There’s high-efficiency air-conditioning.”

  “It’s wonderful,” Celeste responded quietly.

  Amy’s pulse picked up. Needing to put some distance between them, she said, “Let me show you some more.” Quickly, she led the way through the house. “The pool uses natural salt for purification, taking away the need for chlorine. The photovoltaic heater will warm the pool with solar energy.”

  Aware she sounded like some sort of energy-saving zealot Amy said, as they walked back to the kitchen, “You get the gist; living in this type of house is really all about using resources and energy wisely.”

  “I didn’t realize you were such a green ambassador.”

  “This place means a lot to me,” Amy replied, genuinely, delighted that Celeste liked it. “I wanted the house to blend with its natural habitat, but I also wanted it to be sensitive… environmentally.” Amy blushed. “My father,” she said, looking at Celeste and wondering fleetingly if they would have got on, “was a keen environmentalist and many of the green elements I’ve incorporated,” she pointed to several areas on the plans, “would be constructs that would have met with his approval.”

  Celeste moved closer to Amy. “I’m sure your father would be as amazed as I am,” she said gently. “I love this house. It seems to reflect a lot of your personality, and probably his too.” She touched Amy’s arm reassuringly. “There is no doubt you have a real talent. That’s evident in your art, and in the design of this house.”

  Aware of the searing heat of Celeste’s hand on her bare skin, Amy took a deep breath.

  “Do you find it completely different from what you would have built in Scotland?”

  Eyes wide, Amy nodded. Aware of nothing but Celeste’s touch, she swallowed. “In some ways it’s very different, and in some ways not,” she said, her voice sounding weird to her ears. “Here, everything tends to be big in scale in terms of the size of property. But in reality, the homes here are notorious for having small garages and limited storage space.”

  “How so,” Celeste asked, her hand still burning Amy’s skin.

  “Uhmm,” Amy said, fighting the strong urge to pull her arm away from the intense heat. “Builders are sneaky and save on construction costs by making closets, attics, and garages smaller. With not very many basements because of the sandy soil and wet conditions you get huge houses with no storage.”

  Celeste smiled. “Is there more?”

  Suddenly aware that Celeste was engaging her but keeping conversation away from anything too personal, Amy pulled away. “Loads and loads more,” she replied. “But I won’t bore you.”

  They looked at each other for a long moment.

  Celeste moved closer. “Amy, I want to—”

  Amy jumped when her cell phone burst into life. She looked at Celeste, and tried to communicate her regret as she answered it. “Hello,” she said her eyes on Celeste.

  “Hi, Amy, it’s Mike. Look, I’m sorry I wasn’t there, but —”

  “Mike,” Amy interrupted, watching Celeste pick up her car keys. “Look, don’t worry about it,” she said hastily. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. I’ll call you. Bye.” She hung up.

  “Amy, I have to go,” Celeste said. Frowning, she looked at her watch. “I’m meeting Alex at three.” She motioned to her car. “Walk with me?”

  Amy lifted her eyebrows in surprise at the sharp sense of loss. Nodding, she murmured, “Sure.”

  They walked to the car in silence.

  “I also need to finish packing,” Celeste told her, stopping at her car. “I’m leaving for Zaire tomorrow morning.”

  Amy’s jaw slackened, and a wave of concern washed over her. Only this morning, she had listened, in shock, to a news broadcast about the violence in Eastern Zaire. She wanted to reach out to Celeste and tell her not to go. To her surprise, she had to physically hold back and bite her tongue to keep from saying the words, “Don’t go.” Instead, she stared at Celeste. God, how can she do it? The news reports said over a million refugees were caught up in the violence. I should stop her. What if I never see her again?

  Amy’s eyes searched Celeste’s face, and her mind worked frantically. Suddenly aware she was staring she looked away, and focused her gaze on the house.

  Celeste watched her.

  Amy knew when Celeste had come home she had confided in Josh that she was taking time out, even contemplating leaving MSF as her last field trip had been traumatic. Josh didn’t know the details, as Amy did, but he was delighted Celeste intended to settle in Sarasota. Closing her eyes for a brief moment, Amy thought how devastated he and his family would be at the news. Opening them, she turned her head to Celeste and asked huskily, “I thought you had finished with MSF?”

  Smiling poignantly, Celeste whispered, “So did I.”

  “When did you get the call to go?”

  “A few days ago.”

  Amy felt strange. All sorts of emotions were running through her. She was having difficulty fighting off the need to slip her arms around Celeste’s slim waist and hug her tight. Instead, she wrapped her arms around herself and fought the desire to tell her to stay. She even tried to joke, “Helluva way to get out of a wedding invitation.”

  Celeste half-smiled. “Perhaps.”

  “I take it you won’t be coming back,” Amy paused, “for the wedding, I mean?”

  Celeste moved forward slightly.

  Amy could see she was struggling to say something.

  Celeste raised her hand as if to touch Amy’s face, hesitated, then dropped it. “No. I’m sorry. I won’t be back for the wedding.”

  Turning from Amy, Celeste opened the car door and got in. She rolled down the window. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

  Not grasping what she meant, Amy looked at Celeste quizzically then briefly closed her eyes. Unlike, her, Josh was completely thrilled by their unexpected pregnancy. The thought of being a parent blew him away, and he wanted to tell the world. With a lot of effort, Amy had reined him in and asked him not to tell anyone until s
he passed the three months stage. Why Josh? Why did you have to tell her, for Chrissake? Why did you have to tell Celeste of all people?

  Amy stepped closer to the car, and placed both hands on the car door. “When did Josh tell you?”

  Starting the engine, Celeste looked at Amy. “A few days ago.”

  “When will you be back?”

  “I really don’t know.” Her eyes lingered on Amy’s lips. “But it’s unlikely I’ll be back anytime soon.”

  “How long?” Amy asked, frowning.

  Searching Amy’s face, Celeste replied, “It’s a promoted post, and the first year’s mostly fieldwork. The overall assignment’s for three years, possibly more.”

  Amy flinched. “You took an assignment for three years!” She bit down on her bottom lip to stop from saying anything more. Acutely aware that she didn’t want Celeste to leave, Amy’s pulse began throbbing in her neck. An unexpected wave of fear washed over her. Where Celeste was going was dangerous, what if something happened to her?

  Amy cut off any further thoughts. Get a grip, she told herself. This is for the best, her internal voice rationalized; she’s doing the right thing. The reason for her leaving might be unsaid, but you both know why. That night should never have happened. This way, both of you can have distance.

  Amy sighed. Even though she understood the logic, her thudding heart was telling her something else. She looked into Celeste’s eyes. Unintentionally, she leaned closer, and thought how easy it would be to kiss her.

  Celeste brought her face closer just as Amy’s inner voice told her to back away. Remember, Josh? The man your about to marry? Her brother for God’s sake!

  The reality of the situation hit home and Amy stepped back from the car.

  Celeste’s eyes searched Amy’s face intently. Eventually, she nodded as if in acceptance then put her shades on, and drove off.

  Amy watched Celeste’s car disappear. We should have talked. We should have talked about what happened, and together tried to put some rationale to it. Maybe then, she wouldn’t have had to leave.

  Feeling empty, Amy walked back into the house, and collected the drawings putting them away. She left the house, got into her car and drove home, no longer in the mood to talk to anyone.

  Chapter 12

  Four years later

  “George, it’s going to be fine,” Amy said. Cradling the phone on her shoulder, she tried to tie her hair up. It was seven thirty in the morning and already her boss wanted reassurance that an important meeting this morning would go without a hitch.

  “You shouldn’t have let Maggie go home,” he said petulantly.

  “Oh, c’mon George, play nice and stop being a big baby,” Amy replied. “She’s my cousin not an indentured servant. She can take as much time off as she wants.”

  That morning, George had almost passed out when Amy told him Maggie wasn’t back, and Josh was unavailable.

  “When is she due back?”

  “At the end of the week.”

  Two weeks ago Maggie had left to visit family, and the mornings had been nothing but a complete nightmare. Since having the twins, a small army was required to mobilize getting them out the door.

  Thankfully, Maggie offered to help them when the boys were born, supposedly taking a leave of absence from her nursing job until they found a suitable nanny, which Amy realized three years in, wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

  “Couldn’t you have talked her into coming back earlier?”

  “Look, George, I’ve already explained to you. Maggie has decided to stay a little longer. Okay?” she said, annoyed that he seemed convinced she wouldn’t manage to get the boys out the door this morning.

  “Yes. Okay, but you know this meeting is very, very important for the firm. If we clinch this deal we’re on the map.”

  Smiling sweetly at her children, Amy watched them eat their breakfast while she explained to George once again that nothing, absolutely nothing, would make her late for the meeting at nine o’clock sharp.

  While she placated her boss, Amy watched Ryan, the more precocious of the twins, pick up a piece of toast, dip it into his egg, and chew on it. She abruptly stopped talking when the said piece of toast flew through the air and hit her white silk shirt dead center.

  Amy’s mouth dropped open. Transfixed, she watched the toast slide down the front of her shirt halt briefly then flop onto the tiled kitchen floor. Stunned, she dropped the phone. Mouth hanging open, she looked down at the mess. Exasperated, she shook her fist in frustration at her son. “Ryan, you little shit,” she wanted to yell but managed to hold back.

  Ryan and Christopher giggled.

  Controlling her temper, she fumed. “Right, that’s it!”

  About to march out into the hallway and along to Josh’s office, Amy paused, when she heard a small voice. Realizing that George was still on the line, she scrambled for the phone, mumbled something then hung up.

  Looking at the boys, Amy repeated. “Right, that’s it!” Turning, she strode toward Josh’s office.

  Josh had organized an early morning conference call to finalize the arrangements for an upcoming software release. For the last few years, he had been working for a software company. He often tried to explain to Amy what he did, but she couldn’t help but glaze over whenever he fell into technical jargon. She understood that he worked in software development and knew it had something to do with robotics, but the dynamics of what he was doing seemed to change constantly. Often, he was working on several prototypes. She did try to show interest, but his work just didn’t do it for her. Although she used design software for work, the thought of sitting day after day staring at a computer screen filled her with dread. She needed air and lots of activity.

  Storming down the hall, Amy looked at her watch. “Bloody hell,” she said, realizing if she didn’t get out of the house soon George would serve her up on a platter. As she approached, Josh’s office, Amy noted the door was closed. Normally, it was left ajar for the boys to have access, but a few weeks ago they had brought home two golden retriever puppies, Mac and Flynn, as a surprise for the boys. Josh now kept the office door closed to keep the pups out.

  At the end of her rope, Amy burst in regardless. “Josh, will you help me?” she cried out. “Not only do I now need to change my shirt, but every single morning since the pups arrived it’s been a complete nightmare getting the boys away from them and into the Jeep and out to nursery school. Normally, it wouldn’t be a problem, because you’re always there, but this morning,” she bellowed, “it’s a different matter!”

  Josh sprang out of his chair, a look of bewilderment crossing his face. Looking at his wife, he spoke briskly to his team, “Let’s take a twenty-minute break guys.” He hit a button and ended the call.

  Josh quickly followed Amy as she marched down the hallway. They stopped in their tracks at the kitchen door. Amy gaped in horror. Ryan and Christopher were rolling around on the kitchen floor playing with the puppies. The clean outfits she had just put them into were covered in breakfast and puppy slurp.

  Throwing her hands in the air, Amy looked at Josh in exasperation. “Look at them!” Looking down at herself, she gulped. “Look at me!”

  “Amy, why didn’t you put the dogs out in the yard?” Josh asked, rallying the pups and putting them out into the newly fenced portion of the backyard.

  Amy tutted. “I was about to,” she replied, “but the phone rang.”

  Josh slid the glass panel closed then clapped his hands. “Right boys, move it!”

  Amy left the kitchen and hurried upstairs toward their bedroom. Sliding back the doors to her wardrobe, she remembered George’s astonished gasp when she hung up on him. He was terrified something would go wrong this morning. “So far, he’s right!” she muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. “Everything is going tits up!”

  Reaching for a clean shirt, Amy cursed Maggie for leaving, Josh for having his meeting this morning. Pulling a shirt from its hanger, she cursed the alien ch
ildren that had arrived since those puppies had come. Hurriedly, she put on a white cotton shirt and tried to button it. Having difficulty, she gave up when she glanced at her watch. Quickly, she made her way downstairs.

  Amy paused outside the kitchen. Raising her eyes to the ceiling, she begged, “Please. Don’t let this day get any worse!”

  Squaring her shoulders and firming her chin, Amy headed back into the war zone. Once in the kitchen, she looked around her and smiled delighted that, at last, there was some semblance of order.

  Pleased that most of the remains of the boys’ breakfast had been removed from their outfits, Amy knelt down to straighten their hair. She kissed them, and for the first time that morning, the knot in her stomach loosened.

  Josh pointed the two boys toward the door and tried to lead them out. Wanting to say a final goodbye to the pups the boys clambered between Josh’s legs, trying to get to the back door.

  Josh sighed and gave up trying to walk the boys out. Instead, he hoisted Ryan over his left shoulder then picked Christopher up and tucked him under his right arm. He turned to Amy. Puffing his chest, he warbled Tarzan’s jungle cry.

  Startled, the twins fell silent then broke into fits of laughter.

  Amy chuckled then called out as she tried to button her shirt, “My hero.”

  Josh laughed. Turning toward the door, he announced, “Celeste was supposed to be here this morning to help you out with the boys because I knew I would be tied up.” He frowned. “It’s not like her to be late.”

  Abruptly, Amy stopped buttoning her shirt. Unsure if she had heard him right she said, “What?” Heart suddenly thudding, she waited, watching Josh struggle to hold the boys.

  Getting a better grip, he replied teasingly, “Remember, my twin? She’s coming over this morning.”

  Trying to absorb the news, Amy blinked a few times, and confirmed slowly, “Your sister is coming over here? This morning?”

  Josh answered just as slowly, “Yes. That’s right. My sister, Celeste, is coming here.”