This from the woman who had sneakily approached Maggie and tried to make her believe that no one cared about her, that she would have to live with strangers, because her mother chose her “sinful lifestyle” over her child. Callie wished that just for a moment, she could make Andy see how harmful, and frankly, stupid, this kind of rhetoric was. Andy and Eric, with a handful of friends, had protested the elementary school’s anti-bullying day. Gracie Romano had escaped their venom at the last moment. The fact that she was going to marry Asha, might have blown Andy’s mind in more than one sense. Callie wanted to say many things to her, but frustration, fatigue, and alcohol made her blurt out the first thing that came to mind.
“Oh my God, you’re going to need a lot of therapy.”
“You need to stop!”
“Why, I’m not the one who runs away to a motel room with the first girl who says yes. I’m not the one lying to everyone’s faces, pretending I don’t like sex with women. I do, and I’m very happy with that.”
For a moment, Callie thought the horrified look on Andy’s face came from her bold choice of words.
“Is that true, Andy?” They both jumped at the sound of Eric’s voice. Given the temper he’d shown at their home, Callie felt uncomfortably trapped. She hoped she hadn’t made a terrible mistake in exposing Andy.
“Is that true?” he repeated.
“You don’t believe her, right? She is evil. Sick! I hate you!”
“Yeah, right. Like that’s news to me.” Callie took a step backwards, scared Andy might want to spit at her.
“Andy. Please. Let’s go home,” Eric said. Andy followed him without any further argument, still bleeding. Callie stood for a moment, wondering if she had created an even worse situation. That was the way it always turned out with this kind of people. They made you feel bad for what they had done wrong. Nicole had taught her that lesson. She wouldn’t fall for it, and she’d make sure neither would Rebecca.
Still, her thoughts were going around in circles as she lay in bed later, wide awake.
“It’s not your fault,” Rebecca said softly, turning to put her arm around Callie’s waist. “He had to find out at some point. Maybe that’s the wake-up call she needs.”
“I doubt it.” Callie sighed. “Wow, sometimes everyone and everything comes way too close in this town. No wonder people concern themselves with things that are none of their business.”
“You still want to move away, sometimes?”
“Not if you don’t want to.”
Rebecca had more questions. “Does this feel like your home? I don’t want you to just make do, you know.”
“I’m not. I’m at home here,” Callie said, trusting that Rebecca would understand all the implications. “I am so at home,” she added, laughing a little. “Can you imagine? Tomorrow, I’m meeting Betty for the fundraiser. Recently, I’ve been doing things I never pictured myself doing.”
“Go figure,” Rebecca said dryly, before they both burst into laughter, and clearly, they weren’t talking about fundraiser meetings anymore.
Chapter Three
Some people were able to change. Some weren’t. Callie remembered vividly the day when Betty LaRue came storming into her house, after church no less, accusing her of corrupting the town’s children with lesbian porn. Never mind the fact that Callie had never written anything close to porn, and her children’s books sat on a different shelf than the adult ones.
Betty had faced some of her issues, and they made peace mostly because they both cared about Rebecca. That didn’t mean Callie didn’t still felt a bit awkward in the company of Betty and her friends. She had given up the choir shortly after Maria’s death, for various reasons. Technically, she was still banned from the church’s grounds, but she figured Father Reynolds would make an exception as long as money for charity came in. His car sat in the parking lot, and that fact made her a bit nervous. She wasn’t looking for a confrontation, knowing it would be pointless at best. His kind, like Andy and Eric, liked to go at it and then turn things around on people.
“Don’t get me wrong,” a woman named Sadie said. Callie thought she’d seen her before at Maggie’s school. “I’m sure Ms. Bryan’s works have their merits, but are they the right kind for what we are planning? I mean—” She broke off, biting her lip.
“It’s for a women’s shelter. They are women’s books,” Betty said.
That’s not what you called it the first time.
As if reading Callie’s mind, Betty avoided her gaze. “We’ve been over this, right? I, for one, am glad Callie has agreed to do this for free.”
“No problem,” Callie said.
Francine, another of their friends who was a regular at the Saturday brunch, rolled her eyes, no doubt regarding Sadie’s issues. “There’s more sex in those novels you buy from the rack near the cash register.”
“You must know,” Sadie shot back at her.
“Ladies! A little focus, please? It’s a done deal,” Betty said. “We’re not discussing this today. Everyone okay with the schedule?”
Sadie frowned, but she remained silent. “Good. That’s all I need to know.”
A knock on the door preceded Father Reynolds into the room. He gave the group a friendly smile, his gaze settling on Callie. Damn. Deep down, she had known it was a mistake to come here. She vowed that this was the last time someone had talked her into it, as long as he was still here.
“Ms. Bryan, can I have a word?”
Callie knew she sometimes talked a big game, when it came to limiting second chances for those who didn’t deserve it. Part of it might simply be morbid fascination, from a writer’s point of view. Another part was the fact, that at moments like this, she had to work on better protecting herself.
“If we’re done here, I guess you can…”
“I’ll wait for you,” Betty said, earning Callie’s gratitude instantly.
“Why don’t we go to my office? Thank you,” he said when she followed him out of the room. “See,” Father Reynolds told her a moment later when they were out of the women’s earshot, “I know you don’t want to talk to me. Frankly, I don’t want to talk to you either, but something has been brought to my attention that I need to address with you.”
“I’m curious,” Callie murmured, feeling a bit light-headed. Okay, so they didn’t like each other, but this wasn’t a dangerous situation. After listening to another one of his tirade, she would go home, take a hot shower, have a glass of wine, and make love to Rebecca. She had her own ways of cleansing her mind, and they worked on the kind of poison she’d be no doubt confronted with.
Still, she froze when he opened the door to reveal Andy sitting at his desk, leaning back into her chair comfortably. She even smiled.
“Tell him,” Andy said. “I know you find pleasure in destroying families, but you won’t do it to mine. I won’t let you.”
The sound of the door falling shut was almost enough to make Callie hyperventilate.
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “You and I know what happened. I don’t think it’s anybody’s business, but you’re accusing me of lying. Why don’t we ask the woman you slept with that weekend—or was it more than one?”
“Let’s be civil, Ms. Bryan, all right? Andy here tells me you’ve been spreading those completely unfounded rumors. Why?”
“They aren’t rumors, and I haven’t spoken to anyone except you,” Callie said, as firmly as she was capable of at the moment. “What the hell are you trying to prove, Andy? You want to keep up the charade, fine, leave me and Rebecca out of it.”
“My marriage is in shambles!” Andy cried. “It’s all because of you!”
“Funny. There I thought it didn’t work out because you’re a lesbian. I’m sorry, I can’t help either of you.” Being in it with two people Callie considered on the edge of psychotic, the room felt claustrophobic. She might have real anxiety attack. The feeling of being trapped came back easily, even if she was free to go at any time.
“Ms.
Bryan, do you have any proof for your accusations?”
“Somebody saw—” To her dismay, Callie realized she had to step back, or bring Sara into this conversation, with all the consequences that might have for the already troubled teenage girl. “Next you want to tell me you’ve never been to that bar, or the hotel across the street. Jesus, you people are driving me crazy.” She got to her feet. “You’ve been on those retreats before, haven’t you? It doesn’t have to be that way.”
What the hell am I doing here?
“Andy is in a difficult process at the moment,” Father Reynolds said calmly, wearing that condescending smile of his. “Please stop bothering her.”
There was nothing Callie wanted more than leave this disturbing upside down world. She left without any further word, wondering what had possessed her to agree to this conversation in the first place.
“You okay? You look a little pale,” Betty greeted her.
“No,” Callie admitted, “but I will be in a bit.”
* * * *
“I’ve never slept in a waterbed for this long,” Rebecca said, the sheet slipping a little as she leaned back and brushed her hand over the surface. “It’s something.” The tangled sheet around her and her disheveled hair spoke clearly of the evening’s earlier activities, making Callie’s knees weak with the memory.
“I believe you told me that, before last year, you’ve never slept in any waterbed. I hope you’re enjoying the company just as much.”
“Oh God, yes.” Rebecca’s voice dropped to that low warm whisper Callie loved so much. “Come here?”
Callie finally stopped staring and set the tray down on the nightstand, before she lay next to her, happy and grateful to have a life that was nothing like the lies and manipulation of Andy and Father Reynolds. This was real—the prejudice of people who couldn’t see anything outside that tiny box they built around them, nothing but background noise.
“You’re beautiful,” she said, eliciting a self-conscious smile from Rebecca.
“I’m glad you think so, especially with that date fast approaching.” She reached out to brush her hand over Callie’s cheek. “Are you going to tell me what happened today?” At this point, Callie had nothing but a tired sigh in response. “Nothing special. The usual suspects.” She lay on her stomach, Rebecca’s hand warm and reassuring on her back.
“I don’t think we should make any big decisions until after the trip,” Rebecca said. “After that…we either move away or sue the hell out of them.” She laughed dryly. “Now that’s appropriate, isn’t it?”
“Sue them? For what?” Callie was a lot more relaxed than she’d been when she came home. The question was mere curiosity. She didn’t think any of it would ever happen.
“Libel,” Rebecca said without hesitation. “We both run a small business. If they don’t stop telling lies, this might be something to look into.”
“I’m not sure that would work. Andy, she is something. You show her the grass is green, and she’ll still insist it’s blue. The newest story is that we made up her hanging out in bars to meet women—like I have nothing better to do.” Callie shook her head. “I didn’t want to bring Sara into it though.”
“Thank you. It’s tough for her as it is. Wow, sixteen. I didn’t even hang out in straight bars at that age.”
Callie sat up, looking at her in surprise. “Wait, you’re telling me you never had a fake ID to try and get booze?” Her sincere question made Rebecca laugh.
“I was nineteen when David proposed to me. There wasn’t much time for sneaking into bars, before or after.”
Callie tried to imagine a teenage Rebecca planning her life, career, marriage, children, unaware of surprises that might come along the way.
Rebecca made a face, amused, as she could obviously tell where Callie’s mind was going. “No, don’t. It reminds me that you were eleven. That’s too weird. I don’t want to think about it.”
“No, you’re right. I much prefer the present.” Callie’s mother was a firm believer in the concept that things happened for a reason, and always played out they were supposed to be. Fiona’s beliefs were eclectic, to say the least, but this was an idea that gave her pause. Callie had at times struggled with the fact that David had been in Rebecca’s life for so long, and possibly would be for much longer—but what if Rebecca’s path had been a different one? Would they have even met?
She reached for the glasses on the nightstand, handed one to Rebecca. “In any case, you’re right that we should play it low-key until the trip. There’s enough to consider as it is.”
Rebecca took a sip, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Do you think we could go sometime? The Lavender Lounge?”
“Sure, we could. I went only once, last year, with Asha.”
“Yeah.” Rebecca sighed.
“Come on, you’re not still upset about that? She’s getting married in a few months.”
“I’m not upset. I’ve got everything I want.” There was a hint of melancholy. Callie thought she could tell where it came from. Marriage, divorce, it was never just signing your name on a piece of paper—not that Callie would know, but Rebecca did.
“You’re sure?”
“Of course. Speaking of which, did you already plan the big wedding for Sabine and Vanessa? Something I can read?”
“Not yet.” Asha had talked her into writing another book in her ongoing series, now that she herself lived in expectance of married bliss. Callie agreed it would be a good finale to the story. Over more than seven years, those women had accompanied the saddest and happiest moments of her life. Starting her career, surviving Nicole, meeting Rebecca. Last year’s Halloween…She didn’t want to go there. Callie scooted a little closer to Rebecca who drew the sheet over both of them. A fictional wedding might be a good way to tide her over until their vacation, even if it came with new questions.
* * * *
She started the next day with a new resolve. By the time Rebecca joined her, she was sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop in front of her, a pot of coffee brewing.
“Are you trying to tell me something?”
Callie had spent the last half hour looking at wedding photography, beautiful pictures of smiling brides, long flowing dresses and a variety of hairstyles. In her imagination, she dressed up Rebecca in one of those pristine white gowns, suppressing a sigh. They were skating around the issue, which had to be enough for now. It was too early for anything else.
“Sure, there is coffee too. I’d love to go back to bed with you.”
Rebecca smiled as she poured herself a cup, added milk and then leaned back against the counter, her stance calm and relaxed. Callie was almost ready to forget about the workday or any other plans she had made. It might be defiance in the light of yesterday’s events, the need for confirmation, or the morning after making love that made Rebecca even more attractive in her eyes. Then again, it simply felt right, in a way none of her other relationships had before. Maybe, when you arrived at that point, it was right to talk about marriage, and she wanted to, at a moment when Rebecca was ready for that conversation as well.
“There’s an idea. It’s supposed to rain all day. What are your plans for the day?”
Callie closed the laptop and set it aside, and they started to set the table. “I can’t tell you,” she said. “It’s a secret.”
Rebecca laughed. “Now I’m scared, because I’m sure it has something to do with the big Four-0. Am I right?”
“Remember, I love you, okay? It will be all right.”
“I’m sure. Actually, with Mom and Dad coming, I’m glad I don’t have to do everything--and you and I both know this is not a big house, so there’s a limit as to how many people can come, right? I’m not sure what to think of that guilty look on your face.”
“That’s not guilty,” Callie hurried to say, though she mentally went over the ever-growing list. “It’s your big day. You, we deserve to celebrate.”
“Maybe you’re right.” On the
table, Rebecca took her hands in hers. “I love you too. I trust you. Dinner, something sweet for the kids, that’s perfect.”
“Okay. I’ll call off the band.”
Rebecca shook her head with a smile, but for the span of a heartbeat, her shocked look had given her away.
* * * *
Life in the small community of Autumn Leaves had been a jarring contrast to her time in New York. Callie liked to keep to herself. She was also fascinated by people and the social fabric they created. That’s why she had started going to church, to observe, to maybe reawaken her own spirituality in the process—and because it gave her an excuse to see her new neighbor, Rebecca Lowman.
The institution of church and its representatives had always made her uncomfortable, because she knew some of them had looked down on her mother who had raised her daughter by herself. Some of them believed in an angry, punishing God who would hate her for loving women when, according to the same people, He had to have created her that way.
Callie had never gotten that impression from Father Langdon. She still remained cautious, until he let Rebecca speak in church and confront those who had been talking behind her back, about her and her family. He had been a good friend to Rebecca, lending advice on a number of occasions. He had made Rebecca aware of Reverend Cole’s group for women who wanted to address questions of faith and sexual orientation in a safe space.
Knowing all this, Callie still felt a bit uneasy. This was Rebecca’s territory, not hers. Nevertheless, Father Langdon was on the list. She blurted out the reason for her visit, before he had any chance to express his obvious surprise at seeing her.
“It would be great if you could come. I know it would mean a lot to Rebecca.”
“Of course. Thank you. Would you like a cup of tea?”
Despite the fact that she hadn’t planned to go in and still felt a little like a kid in the principal’s office, Callie had to smile, remembering something Rebecca had said. “You can always count on him to listen and have a word of advice, but if you need a good strong coffee, this is not the place to go.”
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