by Harper Bliss
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LAURA
After that evening at the football game and the subsequent drinks, it’s as though my life changes, almost overnight. There’s barbecue night at Myriam and Isabella’s. I have dinner with Coach Ingersley, Megan, and the children. I get my hair cut at Connie’s who fills me in on all the local gossip about people I don’t know. And Tess and I end up seeing each other almost every other day.
Yet, I manage to avoid coming close to telling her about Tracy like I did that night after the game. If the other two hadn’t come in, I don’t know what would have happened. If I would have told her or not. I don’t even know how I could possibly get those words to cross my lips.
Even to Aunt Milly, whose mental state seems to be worsening by the day, it is clear that I’m becoming happier, more myself again, less worried about keeping my guard up at all times.
Most of all, I enjoy Tess’s company. So much so that, these days, when I draw on the computer, my hand only shakes half as much as it did before I attended my first Cougars game.
It’s still spring in Texas but the first signs of the summer humidity already hang in the air on the day that Tess asks me to go for a picnic in a spot she hasn’t shown me yet.
“Okay,” I say, “but only if we run there.” My stamina has increased exponentially and after visiting Aunt Milly at Windsor Oaks I’ve taken up the habit of straying off my habitual path and exploring the outskirts of the town.
“No can do, Baker,” Tess says. “I know you don’t drink but I’m planning to take an excellent bottle of vino just for little old moi. It’s not that I don’t want to, of course. You must know that I’m dying to demonstrate my excellent fitness levels to you, but someone has to carry the wares. You can run. You’ll be nice and sweaty when you arrive. It’s a good look on you.”
I shake my head at her. “You know what, Tess? A simple no would have sufficed.”
“Perhaps, but it’s hardly the Douglas way.” She shoots me one of her grins—I have noticed that they’ve become more and more seductive. But she hasn’t asked me out anymore, though we go out together plenty. Just not as a couple. Which is, perhaps, not the way Tess wants it, but it suits me just fine.
Tess drives us a few miles out of town, to the middle of nowhere, then stops. “This is it,” she says.
“There’s nothing here,” I reply.
“That’s the whole point.” She bounds out of the car and grabs the picnic basket from the trunk. “Just you and me and the Texas skyline. How does it compare to Chicago’s?”
“So much more impressive.” I follow Tess onto a field. “Aren’t we trespassing?”
“Nope. This is Douglas land. My land, in fact. I could build a house here if I wanted to.” She turns around and looks at me triumphantly.
“Really?”
“Well, I’d need to get permission, of course. I haven’t actually looked into it. But one can dream.”
“One can.”
Tess starts walking again. She lets her gaze drift over the surroundings, as if she’s looking for the perfect spot. “Here will do.” She takes a few more paces to the right and spreads out the blanket.
“You have excellent taste.” I look her over as she distributes the goodies she brought. Bread, made fresh by Earl, who has recently taken up baking as a hobby. The bottle of wine for her. A bottle of San Pellegrino for me. Egg salad. Grapes. Bread and cold cuts.
Once we’re both seated, Tess’s legs tucked away chastely under a black summer dress with huge white polka dots, and beverages are poured, Tess says, “I just wanted to thank you for brightening up my life. I wasn’t unhappy, but you really have done so. I wanted you to know that.” She holds up her glass for me to clink mine against.
“Way to get the heavy stuff out of the way.” I softly touch my glass against hers.
“That’s not heavy. Wait until I start on my speech,” she jokes, then sips from her wine. “Gosh, that’s good.” She glances over. “You really never drink?”
Here come the questions, I think. I also can’t picture myself enjoying alcohol ever again after what happened the last time I drank. “I used to and I could surely use a drink from time to time to lessen my inhibitions in social situations, but I feel so good since I stopped drinking. A life without hangovers isn’t so bad.” I chuckle, hoping that my response was light-hearted enough—despite the reason for my not drinking being anything but.
“Is there a specific reason why you stopped?” Tess asks. Over the past few weeks, ever since I almost spilled the beans at that bar, Tess and I have spent a lot of time together, but never in a setting like this. There were always people around, even just Mary at the café. And we’ve worked hard on The Ledger. I’ve even gotten some calls from local business owners asking me to work my magic on them. Even more so since Tess gave me a free ad in the last issue of The Ledger.
I gather she has brought me here, to this idyllic, discreet spot, to find out more about me. I understand the compulsion, but I don’t feel like ruining this beautiful afternoon with my life’s sob story, so I decide to turn the tables. “Is there a specific reason why you do drink?”
“There are many.” Tess drinks again and paints an overjoyed expression on her face, then smacks her lips. “Because it’s delicious. Because it makes me a little more audacious than I would otherwise be. Because it takes the edge off after a long day. And I guess, also, because it’s just how we grow up these days. You hanker for it as a teenager, then you reach the legal drinking age, and there are no more limits.”
“Look, Tess, I’m going to be honest with you.” I don’t want to lie to her, not even a little white lie. “There is a very specific reason why I don’t drink anymore, but I’m not ready to talk about that. Is that okay?”
“Very much so. I appreciate your honesty.” She has such a carefree air about her, as though no matter what I say, anything would work for her today. Perhaps I read it wrong, and she did only bring me here to enjoy my company, the quiet, and the view.
“Thank you.” We fall into an easy silence and I drink in my surroundings. The sun hangs low in the sky, not quite ready to hide behind the horizon just yet, and casts a pale-orange glow over the infinite green around us. “I’m so glad I didn’t move to another city,” I muse. “It would have been so much easier to move to New York or San Francisco. Easier for work. Easier to remain discreet. Easier for a lot of things, but I would have never even known this existed. There’s a purity here. Maybe it’s being surrounded by nature. Or just the general, more gentle way of the people I’ve met here. It’s less harsh. Less demanding.”
Tess ponders this for a moment. “Small town life comes with its challenges too.”
“Everything does.” Although, at the moment, I feel entirely unchallenged.
“Have some Douglas bread. Mom is going crazy now that Dad spends so much time in the kitchen. It’s safe to say two people have suffered for this bread.” She tears off a chunk with her hands and passes me the loaf.
“Can I ask you a question?” I ask while I rip off my own piece of bread. I smell it while I wait for a reply. I’ve always held off asking Tess too many intimate questions out of fear they would bring up more reciprocal ones.
“Anything.” Her mouth is full, which makes me snicker.
“When was your last serious relationship?”
“Serious, huh? When you live here, where there are not many takers, everything always tends to become much more serious than it has to. Because of the distance. I don’t know. Doing long-distance always seems to speed things up because there’s so much more talking and processing involved. But… to answer your question. The last time I dated someone for longer than a few months was three very long years ago. Her name was Marla and she lived in Conroe, which is a bearable number of miles away.” Tess takes a sip of wine and slips a grape into her mouth before continuing. “We met at an LGBT fundraiser event in Houston. Hit it off. Went on a few dates. Started referring to each other as ‘p
artner’. She met my parents. I didn’t meet hers because they live in Florida. But, you know, I wouldn’t leave Nelson for her, and she didn’t want to move here.”
“To this metropolis? How dare she?” It doesn’t look as though Tess is still cut up about Marla.
“I know, right? Anyway, since then, I’ve always tried to make it very clear from the beginning that I’m not moving to Houston or Dallas or Conroe for anyone. I have land in Nelson, for Christ’s sake. Why would I leave my land?”
“You’d be crazy to.” I reshuffle my legs because they’re starting to tingle from sitting in the same position. “That’s a big sacrifice to make though.”
Tess sticks out her bottom lip and shakes her head. “Not for me. I only have one family. I wouldn’t know what I’d do without them. I talk to my sister every single day and I don’t go two without seeing her. Maybe it’s a twin thing. But I’d miss them too much if I moved away, which, eventually, would taint the relationship. Of course, I do understand that this is one of the main reasons I’m single. I mean, it can’t be lack of charm or anything like that, can it?” She flutters her eyelashes.
“It most certainly cannot.” I happily concur.
“And the thought of not seeing the kids. And missing a Cougars home game. Nu-uh. My life is here. No matter how limiting that might be.”
“No wonder you’re so happy I live here now.” I hope she takes it as the casual remark that it’s meant to be.
“You have no earthly idea.” She purses her lips and holds my gaze for an instant.
“I’m glad I met you too. You’ve made my life in Nelson so much easier and agreeable.”
“And I gave you a job that brought in a thousand bucks. Don’t forget!”
“And introduced me to Myriam and Isabella,” I add.
“Who are dears, really. Dears with big mouths who drink too much, but dears nonetheless.”
“I haven’t met anyone in this town who even comes close to being timid,” I tease. “Or minces their words in the slightest.”
“It’s the Texas way. What can I say? We live and talk large.”
“Never in my life could I have imagined that I would ever end up in Texas. In a town the size of a postage stamp. Doing up a house day-by-day. Watching YouTube videos on how to apply wallpaper.”
“How many times has my dad offered you to help with that? But no, the lady must prove her independence by suffering through it on her own.”
“The lady must. It’s important to me to do it on my own. For the sense of completion it will give me once it’s done. So I can look at it and say, I did this.”
“How’s your arm, by the way? All that painting isn’t having too bad an effect?” Tess refills her wine glass.
“It only shakes when I draw. It’s the strangest thing. I suspect it might not be a purely physical thing. If anything, doing some manual labor helps make it stronger.”
“But it’s better?”
I’m strangely touched by Tess’s concern. “Yes. Quite a bit.”
I can almost see her swallow her next question. So I help her out by asking one of my own. “Any other exciting women in your life since Marla?”
Tess stares at me for a second. Is she trying to remember or considering me for that role?
“I had a one-night stand with a woman in Houston. It wasn’t very satisfying.”
As a joke, I whistle through my teeth. Though, I guess, seeing as Tess didn’t really enjoy it, it’s a little inappropriate.
“I’m just an old-fashioned gal, you know? Not that crazy about putting out on the first date. I like to introduce them to my momma and poppa first.” Tess snickers.
In that moment, I know what I like about her so much. She doesn’t take herself seriously at all. Unlike Tracy, who was always very serious about everything—especially herself.
I laugh and let my head fall back, looking up at the sky. “Uh-oh. There comes trouble.”
“Is it a cowboy with a gun?” Tess asks, her chin tilted and the last of the sun catches in her hair, before it’s swallowed by a massive black cloud.
“It’s a big fat menacing cloud.”
“That’s the East Texas spring for you.” Tess maneuvers herself up. “Best pack up.”
“Thank you for this,” I say, intently holding her gaze before she starts putting the leftover bread away. “It was great fun.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
TESS
“She’s driving me crazy, Megs. And she doesn’t even know it.”
“Tessie, hon, I told you before. Sometimes patience is all you’ve got.” We’re sitting on Megan’s porch, watching Scott explain to the boys how to run a route.
“But for how much longer?” I know I sound like a petulant child. “For all I know, she may never be ready. I have no clue. We’ve been spending all this time together, and we have this energy between us, for sure. But I don’t really know that much about her. I’ve told her as much as I can about me—”
“That’s ’cause you’re an open book. You couldn’t keep your mouth shut to save your life.”
“That’s not the point. I like her. I really really like her. To the point that my first thought when I wake up is whether I will see her today and, if not, how I can make it so that I do.”
“Christ. You’ve got it good, girl.”
“I know. A bit more every day. And all I do is wait, wait, wait. For her to make a first move. But she never does. And it’s driving me nuts.”
“Here.” Megan pours me some more wine. “This should help.”
“I really shouldn’t. I must be over the limit already.” But the glass is already touching my lips. I drink and let the cool liquid ease some of my anguish. “Should I tell her how I feel?” I ask my sister.
She inhales deeply, exhales slowly. Admittedly, it’s a question that needs some pondering. “Think about the consequences if you do.”
“Best case scenario,” I sit up a bit straighter, liking where I’m going with this, “she has been waiting for me to make another move.” My posture deflates when I think about the worst case scenario. “But, most likely, she’ll just blow me off again.”
“One way of looking at it is that you’re friends now. Is your friendship strong enough to withstand an amorous confession and possible rejection?” Megan plays devil’s advocate.
“But the other way of looking at it is whether I’m strong enough to keep on being her pining friend.”
“I know it’s not your style, but maybe you should start by dropping some subtle hints,” Megan offers.
“That’s all I do. More often than not, our conversation turns flirty. Not overly so, but enough for me to know that there’s something there. That I’m not imagining things. A woman knows, you know? And I know that Laura is not oblivious to my charms. I just know it. I just don’t know what to do about it.”
“Trust your gut, Tess.” Megan lifts her glass. I do the same.
“Maybe I will.” I take a nice hefty gulp. “What have I got to lose?”
✶ ✶ ✶
When I leave Megan and Scott’s house after nine, I’m well past the limit, but the ranch is only a mile away and Megan lets me borrow her bicycle. I plan to cycle straight home until an idea sparks in my head.
I’m a little tipsy, which, I conclude, should give me the exact amount of courage to tell Laura how I feel and a cushion to soften the blow if she responds negatively. Here I go, I think, as my hair flaps in the faint evening breeze. Here I go to tell Laura I love her. I start to hum the song. Riding a bicycle along the small town roads like this in the evening, when there’s hardly anyone around, reminds me of when I was younger. Still the same streets, still the same town, I muse, as I turn into Laura’s street, fervently hoping she’ll still have a light on. I hardly think she’ll want to be woken up for my news.
A faint yellow glow comes from the front window, so I ring the bell. It takes a while for Laura to come to the door. When she does, her hair is all awry and she’s wearing a
pair of pajama bottoms and one of her brand new-looking white t-shirts.
“Tess?”
“The one and only,” I joke, and realize I might be a little bit more than tipsy. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“I dozed off in front of the TV. What’s up? Is something wrong?” Worry washes over Laura’s face.
“Not at all. I know it’s late, but can I come in, please?”
Laura opens the door and steps aside. “Are you sure you’re all right? You look a bit off.”
“I just need to tell you something. I’ve tried… I’ve really tried to keep it in, but I can’t do it any longer.” I stumble into the living room.
“Tess, come on. Just sit down for a minute. I’ll get you some water.” Laura takes me by the arm and leads me to the sofa. Half of it is covered by a bunch of pillows and a crumpled up blanket.
“I don’t want water, Laura,” I blurt out. “I want you.”
Laura ignores what I just said and goes into the kitchen. A few long seconds later she returns with a tall glass of water in her hands.
“Drink this. I believe you may have had a bit too much.” She shoves the glass into my hands and, when our fingers touch, I just want to keep holding on to her.
I take a few reluctant sips, then put it aside. “I’ve come to tell you something important.”
“Tess,” Laura crouches next to me, “don’t say things you’ll regret in the morning.” She puts a hand on my knee and it’s all I need to bring this home. “How did you get here? I hope you didn’t drive,” Laura says before I can launch into my love confession.
“I rode a bicycle,” I announce triumphantly.
“Good. Why don’t you have some more water and I’ll drive you home, okay?”
“Laura, listen to me. I came here for a reason.”
“So I gathered.” Laura pushes herself up from her crouch and moves to the sofa.
I turn a little so I can look her straight in the eyes. This is no time for averted glances.