Fresh Tracks

by Georgia Beers

  “You can share my coffee,” Molly said, holding up the mug after only finding the one.

  They headed out into the silvery blue almost-light of the morning, the brisk, frosty air awakening their senses. Darby had asked about the previous night, knowing when Molly had returned from the second floor and made the remark, “She’s on her damn cell already,” that things weren’t going to be smooth sailing for the couple. Molly had spilled it all without taking a breath.

  “I don’t know, Darby. I always thought when I was in a relationship with the right person, it would be easy. Effortless.” She shrugged. “I guess I was wrong.”

  “Or you haven’t found the right person.” Darby consciously injected a tone of innocence into her voice.

  Molly seemed to absorb that, not saying anything.

  *

  Back in the cabin on the second floor, Kristin watched the two of them as they headed off into what looked like a path cut into the woods at the end of the back yard. She’d felt, rather than heard, Molly get up and dress, but she’d been too exhausted to ask her where she was going so early. It seemed easier to just pretend to be asleep until she left. Kristin was actually surprised she had slept at all herself. Molly had given her the cold shoulder for the rest of the evening, generally keeping her distance in order to make it clear to Kristin that she was being punished, but refraining from open hostility in order to keep the rest of the group from being subjected to the weirdness and discomfort of an obviously battling couple.

  Kristin knew the others were aware there were problems. Amy was Molly’s best friend; she knew everything. And Kristin was two days later than she was originally supposed to be there. She was sure that hadn’t gone unmentioned. She played it off, though, forcing herself to make conversation, crack jokes, and laugh with everyone. It was totally draining and she had fallen into bed next to Molly barely conscious. She’d drifted off within minutes. She was sure Molly was annoyed by that. She was also sure Molly had barely slept a wink, as was her tendency when she was upset by something.

  Kristin watched the two figures disappear into the woods, arm in arm, and wondered absently if Darby was somebody she should be wary of. She snorted almost immediately, the piercing, the ratty, low-rise jeans and the tousled hair springing to mind. She fully expected there was more than one tattoo hidden beneath Darby’s thrift store-clothing and she rolled her eyes, envisioning the typical, grunge-loving, lazy and irresponsible twentysomething of the current era. She despised their indolence, their cavalier, the-world-owes-me attitude and their arrogance. Darby was so not Molly’s type. Molly was a doer, a go-getter, a volunteer, not the kind of person who waited for something to fall into her lap.

  Still…

  *

  Across the hall, Sophie and the terrier were having a staring contest in the growing morning light while Laura slept on, oblivious. The dog was curled up at Laura’s feet on the bed, his chin resting on her ankle, but his brown eyes were wide open and blinking at Sophie as she sat up and swung her feet over the edge of her own bed. They held one another’s gaze for several long minutes before Sophie threw up her hands and asked, “What are you lookin’ at?”

  The dog blew out what sounded very much like an irritated breath and then closed his eyes, seemingly content to stay put as long as Laura did. Sophie rolled her eyes and headed off to the bathroom.

  *

  Jo was turning the page of the morning paper when she felt her wife approach from their bedroom. The next second, she was enfolded from behind, Amy wrapping her arms around Jo’s shoulders as she kissed her cheek. Jo inhaled deeply, absorbing the just-awakened scent of her beloved into her very being, adoring the familiar smell that came as a blend of musk, citrus, and laundry detergent.

  “Morning, sunshine,” she said.

  “Good morning, my love.” Amy’s voice was slightly scratchy, as it always was first thing.

  “Sleep well?”

  “That last hour…hoo. That was the best sleep ever.”

  Jo grinned knowingly. “A good orgasm always has that effect.”

  “Damn right.” Amy let go of her partner and headed for the coffeepot. Noting its contents were at just above half, she glanced up and registered the empty couch. “Darby’s up already? What happened? Was there a fire?”

  “She went for a walk.”

  “Seriously?”

  “With Molly.”

  Amy pondered that information for several seconds before asking, “Should we be worried?”

  Jo turned to look at her pointedly. “I’ve been wondering the same thing.”

  “There’s definitely the whole crush issue going on. That’s painfully obvious.” Amy lowered her voice. “But now that Kristin’s here…I don’t want things to get uncomfortable. There’s enough trouble in that relationship without Darby tossing herself into the mix--which we know she tends to do without thinking about the consequences.”

  “Maybe I should have a little heart-to-heart with my niece.”

  Amy held up a hand. “You know what? Let’s leave it alone for now. Let’s not create a problem that may not even exist.”

  Jo nodded, and a subtly reluctant tone crept into her voice. “Okay. For now. But we need to keep a close eye on things.”

  “Agreed.”

  *

  Laura sighed. It was the deep, God-I’m-comfortable sigh of a person snuggled in a warm bed with no earthly reason to get up until she damn well felt like it. Absently, she thought how much warmer the atmosphere seemed once Sophie left the room. Then she rolled her eyes, disappointed in herself for thinking such unfriendly things. The terrier roused himself from the crook of her knees and picked his way across the quilt to settle down against her chest.

  “I never thought the next time I spooned in bed, it would be with a dog,” she said with amusement, burying her nose in the now-clean and soft fur at the top of his head.

  She’d waited until late afternoon yesterday to be sure his system was sufficiently warm and healthy before subjecting him to the much-needed bath. He surprised her by not struggling or creating problems. He just stood in the water, ears back flat against his head to express his disapproval, and let her shampoo his wiry hair. Now, he smelled like peaches.

  Laura didn’t know a lot about dogs and there was a large part of her that was afraid to get too attached to this one. It was the reason she hadn’t given him any sort of name yet other than “little guy” or “hey, buddy.” He had to belong to somebody. Wouldn’t his owner be missing him by now? At the same time, she hoped nobody ever came looking. She’d never felt such unconditional love before and she was certain it was something she could get used to pretty damn quickly. The thought of him inhabiting her half of the duplex with her was not unpleasant.

  “Be careful with the terriers,” Jo had warned her, handing her one of the extra leashes and collars she’d found in the basement. “They’re great dogs, but they tend to run.” At Laura’s questioning expression, Jo had elaborated. “They’re bred to hunt vermin…squirrels, chipmunks, moles, rabbits. They use their noses and their ears and when they put that nose to the ground, they don’t pay much attention to anything else. My uncle raised Westies. They were damn adorable and loving, but they couldn’t be trusted off the leash. They’d be gone like little white shots.”

  Laura inhaled his cleanliness one last time before speaking to her newfound friend. “We should probably get up, huh, buddy? Do you have to pee? I do.”

  *

  “So…why kindergarten?”

  Molly took the time to honestly think about the question. She and Darby had been strolling for nearly an hour, arm in arm, walking over their own tracks, and there had yet to be a lull in the conversation. Molly was surprised to admit that she was thoroughly enjoying herself and couldn’t remember the last time she felt so relaxed.

  “It’s the perfect age for molding,” she said matter-of-factly. “For the most part, my students are too young to have been jaded by the world yet. If they’ve got dece
nt parents, then the kids are usually still respectful of authority and of each other. They don’t discriminate against each other because of race or money or gender. I get them before the real world does and I hope in the short span of time they’re with me, I can teach them something to help them grow into good people.”

  Darby looked at her in amazement. “Wow.”

  “What?”

  “That’s…” Darby shrugged and shook her head, at a loss. “I’m just so impressed.”

  “By what?”

  Darby bumped Molly playfully with her shoulder. “By you, dorkball. That was the perfect explanation. That’s what every education student should say when asked why they want to be a teacher. You know? You didn’t say ‘so I can have summers off,’ or something similarly superficial. You said something meaningful. I admire that. I admire you.”

  Molly blushed, feeling inexplicably proud at the words Darby bestowed upon her. “Well, you couldn’t pay me enough to teach fourth or fifth grade. That’s when brats happen.”

  “Do you want to have kids of your own?”

  Molly shook her head. “I don’t think so. It’s crossed my mind, especially as I get older and the clock starts to tick a bit louder. But teaching is exhausting and I don’t think I’d have the energy to deal with kids all day and then come home to my own. Maybe I’m simply not cut out for motherhood.”

  “I don’t believe that. I think you’d be a great mother.”

  Molly squeezed Darby’s arm. “Thanks. What about you? Do you want kids?”

  Darby released a deep breath, watching the vapor dissipate in the chilly morning air. “I think I might. I’m not sure yet.” She glanced at Molly with a twinkle in her eyes. “I do know that I don’t want to do the carrying. No way do I want to be pregnant.”

  Molly laughed. “Really? If I wanted kids, I think I would do the carrying.”

  “Seriously? Gaining all that weight, having to pee all the time, not being able to sleep, constant backaches, weird midnight cravings? Why would you want to suffer through all of that?”

  Molly shrugged. “Nine months goes by fast. I just think it would be amazing to have a little life growing inside me, that’s all.”

  “Pregnant women are beautiful, I’ll give you that.”

  When Molly looked up, the house was in view and she had a hard time believing they’d just kept walking. Three shrill barks broke the air as they cleared the woods into the open yard. She waved at Laura, who stood out in front of the house with the little terrier on a leash. He yipped again, his tail moving down each time, as if he were built like a water pump and pushing his tail toward the ground caused the bark to come out his mouth.

  “Morning,” Laura said with a smile as they approached. She rubbed her hands over her upper arms, wishing she’d been smart enough to grab a jacket on the way out the door. The long-sleeve T-shirt wasn’t doing much to keep her warm. “Out for an early walk?”

  “Nothing wakes you up like twenty-degree weather,” Darby responded. Glancing at the dog, she asked, “Taking his sweet time, is he?”

  “Apparently, the way it works is that he has to sniff every snowflake first. Who knew? I assume we’ll get around to peeing in an hour or two.”

  Molly squatted near the dog and received a heartfelt lick for her efforts, the terrier’s tail wagging happily back and forth. Giggling, she patted his head, then took off her own coat and set it over Laura’s shoulders. “You’re going to catch pneumonia standing out here like that.”

  Everybody looked up as Molly and Darby entered the cabin. The atmosphere buzzed with the goings-on of morning, the complete opposite of the hushed quiet when they’d left just an hour earlier. A fresh pot of coffee was brewing on the counter and Amy stood at the stove flipping pancakes. The fire was crackling with warmth.

  Sophie, clad in plaid flannel pants and a red sweatshirt, sat on the floor in front of the television shooting at zombies before they had a chance to eat her, leaning to her left and then her right as she pushed the fire button as fast as she could. Muttered swear words could be heard every so often from her end of the room. Grinning, Darby ripped off her coat and boots so she could scoot over next to her opponent. In doing so, she missed the expression Kristin tossed her way from the dining-room table, a combination of suspicion, hurt, and anger. Molly, however, caught it.

  Pasting a smile on her face, she shed her own boots and joined Jo and Kristin sat at the dining room table. Kristin fiddled with her coffee mug, studying its contents.

  “How was the walk?” Jo asked.

  “Brisk. Invigorating. It’s so gorgeous here.”

  Amy leaned over the table and set down a plate with a large stack of pancakes on it. “That’s why we love it.” Turning her head to be heard by those in the living room, she announced, “Breakfast is served. Come and get it.”

  “See any deer?” Jo asked.

  “No, but we saw several birds and a rabbit. Lots of deer tracks, though.”

  Darby appeared and began tossing pancakes onto a plate. “Aunt Amy, your salt licks are getting low.”

  Amy nodded from her post at the stove. “I think I might make a quick trip into town today. I’ll pick up a couple more while I’m there.”

  “Can I go with you?” Molly asked.

  “‘A quick trip into town?’ What is this, Little House on the Prairie?” Sophie asked from where she still sat on the floor, a teasing tone in her voice. “Can I tag along? Are we taking the wagon and horses?”

  “I think we could probably squeeze you in,” Amy said, teasing back by infusing her voice with a slightly Southern accent. “I hear the general store has this newfangled thing called ‘sliced bread.’”

  Sophie laughed and tried the same accent. “But…should I be worried about how all the white folks will look upon a single black woman? Especially one as devastatingly attractive as myself?”

  “It’s a chance we’ll have to take,” Amy responded.

  “Of course,” Sophie continued, “in this day and age, I should probably be more worried about being a lesbian. I wonder if our illustrious president would be happier if I just wore a sign that says ‘Second-Class Citizen’ and be done with it.”

  Snorts of agreement traveled the room.

  “Don’t you worry your pretty little heads about going into town,” Darby said, jumping in. “I’ll protect you.”

  “Oh, no, you won’t,” Jo countered. “You’re staying here with me. We’ve got a couple things that need to be done outside and I could use your help.”

  Anyone who bothered to look in from the outside at that moment would most likely have laughed at the polar opposite expressions on the faces of Darby and Kristin. Darby looked crushed, like a small child who was just told Christmas had been cancelled and Santa wasn’t coming. Kristin was smugly satisfied, like she’d just been informed that all her wishes would come true, but she couldn’t tell anybody. Those were the expressions Laura saw when she came through the front door with the terrier, and she did laugh.

  “Okay, what did I miss?” she asked, unclipping the terrier’s leash. He promptly wandered over near the television and sat down next to Sophie, who pretended not to notice him.

  “We were just planning the day,” Jo informed her. “Amy, Molly, and Sophie are taking a trip into town. Want to go?”

  Laura pondered for a second, casting a glance in Sophie’s direction, thankfully only seeing the back of her head. “I think I’ll stay here. I’m really enjoying my book. Plus, I should probably make some phone calls about him.” She gestured with her eyes toward the terrier, who set his chin gently on Sophie’s thigh.

  “Okay, okay,” Sophie muttered, massaging the dog’s head. “Fine. I’ll pet you. I’m about to get killed anyway. I think you jinxed me.”

  Laura smiled in spite of herself and headed to the table. Sophie wandered in a few minutes later, the dog following on her heels.

  “Game over?” Darby asked smugly.

  Amy watched with smiling eyes as six o
f the loves of her life ate, chatted, and joked. Despite her loyalty to Molly, her heart went out to Kristin as she noticed Molly offering very little of herself to her partner but laughing and teasing with Darby. She glanced at Sophie and Laura, who stood next to one another, not engaging each other in any sort of conversation at all. Their shoulders were actually touching, and it struck her immediately what a stunning couple they made, blonde and brunette, blue eyes and brown, pale skin and dark. She took it all in for several moments before standing behind Jo, who sat at the head of the table.

  Laying a hand on her wife’s shoulder, Amy held up her juice glass and said, “I’d like to offer a toast.” When the table quieted and everyone had a mug or glass in hand, she continued. “To friends, without which we’d all be nowhere and lonely.”

  Glasses were clinked together. Sophie peered at her own. “Hey, shouldn’t this be a mimosa? The holidays aren’t officially over yet, are they?”

  Jo and Amy grinned at each other, and Amy said, “I think we can spare one of the New Year’s Eve bottles of champagne for this morning, don’t you?”

  Sophie

  The ride “into town” wasn’t nearly as long or desolate as it had sounded. In about twenty minutes, Sophie pulled her Jeep into the small town of Westover. “Tiny village” was a more accurate description, as it basically consisted of one street that ran down the middle of town, past the post office, the hardware store, the bank, the gas station, and the grocery store.

  “Wow,” Molly said from the backseat. “What a booming metropolis.”

  Amy chuckled. “It works for us when we forget to bring something from home. The people are nice and everything’s cheap.” She opened the passenger side door and slid to the ground, slinging her purse over her shoulder. “Coming?”

  Sophie and Molly followed her into Hindman’s, taking in the three lanes of cash registers and the total of nine aisles of groceries. A rotund man in a green apron waved in Amy’s direction.