by Karis Walsh
Common sense was on the fringes of her mind this morning, but it had been nowhere in sight last night. They had months ahead of them to let the relationship develop. She had expected to continue at their slow pace, maybe ending the evening with a kiss the way they had the night before, but watching Emilie onstage had affected her in a completely unexpected way. She had seen her act poorly as Cassella, and had seen her do the brilliant, transporting scene as Titania alone in the woods. But last night she had taken her performance to another level, one Arden knew had always been waiting inside her, and Arden had felt prouder than she possibly could have if she had been onstage herself.
Pride wasn’t enough to make her push aside her carefully laid boundaries, however. Even though Emilie had seamlessly been Cassella last night, she had strangely been the purest version of herself at the same time. She had given herself wholeheartedly to the role, holding nothing back, and she offered the same fullness and generosity to Arden last night as they lay on the ground enveloped by the bitter-floral scents of rosemary and lavender.
Arden hadn’t had a choice but to be with Emilie. Well, she had had a choice, but she hadn’t wanted one. She had only wanted Emilie.
Emilie’s hand reappeared to toss the phone across the room in the general direction of her bag. She reached out and took hold of Arden, pulling her under the covers.
Safely ensconced in the tent made by the comforter, Arden went into Emilie’s embrace without resistance. Emilie smiled at her without seeming to have any of the reservations about the speed and direction of their relationship that Arden had.
“You’re amazing, Arden. Everything about you, from the way you help things grow and create beautiful spaces like your garden and the park stages, to the way you make me feel when you touch me. Thank you for sharing all of this with me.”
Arden was taken aback. She had expected normal morning-after talk, not for Emilie to pull something out of her soul and examine it like a precious object. She wasn’t sure what to say in response.
“I’ve never shown anyone the backyard before. I mean, friends have seen it, so it’s not like a secret place. But in a way it is, because I never took anyone I was seeing out there.”
Apparently, she had chosen the right words, because Emilie’s smile grew wider and she pulled Arden to her for a kiss. A stomach-churning, leg-tangling, hand-wandering kiss. Arden came up for air eventually, lying on top of Emilie now, with Em’s thighs holding her tightly in place.
“I have to be in Jay’s office in half an hour,” Emilie said, her lips tickling the side of Arden’s neck as she spoke. “I don’t want to leave.”
Arden ran her hand up and down the length of Emilie’s back. “Neither do I. But I have to be at work, too, so I’ll drive you back into town. Do you want to shower here, or at your house?”
Emilie propped her chin on Arden’s chest and smiled at her like a cat waiting to pounce on a quivering toy. “I’ll shower here. If you’ll join me.”
Arden was tempted, but they both had places to be and people who were expecting them. She might have given in and let them skip their meetings and work for just one morning, but she was certain that Jay wanted Emilie in his office to talk to her about the performance she gave last night. Emilie had worked hard to get where she was and had faced embarrassment and insecurity at the festival. She deserved every ounce of the praise she was going to get today, and Arden wasn’t going to steal a moment of it from her.
Okay, when Emilie got out of bed naked and slowly walked around the room, bending over to pick up her things in an exaggeratedly suggestive way, Arden nearly forgot her sense of reason yet again and followed her into the shower. Em had a gift for expressing state of mind through her body—as Arden had learned so well last night—and she managed to convey sexy and goofy so compellingly that Arden was torn between laughter and soul-melting desire.
This was going to be Emilie’s morning to bask in the director’s applause instead of his threats to take her part away, and Arden wouldn’t let her be late. She chose laughter, throwing a pillow at Emilie before falling back onto the bed and pulling the covers over her. She wouldn’t have time for a long shower, but she’d be sure to make it an ice-cold one.
*****
Emilie walked back to the park after her meeting, in enough of a daze that she missed the familiar entrance and followed the set of brick stairs leading to the street instead of the ones that would have taken her into the park proper. She took the long route from the road and past the duck pond, both excited to see Arden and dreading the talk they needed to have.
She had been euphoric this morning, with the lingering elation from her performance weaving in and out of the wonder of sex with Arden. Love and passion—for Arden and for her career—had come together in a glorious way this morning. She had experienced the frantic high of a great performance before, but this had been something else entirely. A homecoming, making her full of peace and a sense of rightness.
She was glad she had been able to have her morning, without the knowledge of how quickly everything was going to change.
She spotted Arden in the distance, near the tennis courts. When she had walked toward Jay’s office, still feeling a twinge of nervous anticipation on the walk down the long hallway, even though she knew he would only be pleased with the way the play had gone, she had imagined running into Arden’s arms after the meeting. Dragging her to a secluded spot in the woods and continuing what they had started this morning. Instead, she slowly followed the trail, wanting to make the walk last as long as possible.
Arden turned before she had crossed the last yards separating them, as if she sensed Emilie’s approach. Her welcoming grin faded slowly as her eyes scanned Emilie’s face.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, coming quickly to Emilie and taking one of her hands. “He didn’t have any complaints about last night, did he? He couldn’t possibly.”
Emilie shook her head, mute with nervousness.
“Then what is it? You’re scaring me.” Arden put the fingers of her free hand under Emilie’s chin and tipped her head so they were looking directly at each other.
“I’m sorry, Arden. I’m just in shock.” Emilie finally found her voice and forced a smile on her face. “He wanted me to meet someone. Her name is Sasha Allston, and she saw the play last night. Skywriting is going to Broadway next spring, and she’s directing.”
“Oh? Oh.” Between two blinks of her eyes, Arden’s entire demeanor changed as she filled in the gaps in Emilie’s story. “Hey, that’s great, Emilie. I’m assuming she wants you to play Cassella for her.”
Emilie nodded. She grabbed Arden’s arm as Arden turned away from her, to keep Arden from walking back to the shrubs she was pruning. “I haven’t said yes. I wanted to talk to you first.”
“Why, Emilie?” Arden asked, gently disengaging her arm from Emilie’s restraining hand. “I’m happy for you, really I am. This is exactly what you wanted. I’m sure this dream was always in your mind when you took this job.”
Emilie had imagined an offer like this in the dark nights in Medford, when she lay on her lumpy mattress, the reek of burning grease still lingering in her nostrils even after two long, soapy showers. It had seemed unattainable, but it kept her going through the lonely days until she came to Ashland. Then her dreams had become much more modest—just do well enough to keep the part. She still couldn’t believe the opportunity she’d just been given, but it seemed smaller now, somehow. What meaning would it have without Arden to share it with her?
“You’re part of my dreams, too, Arden. A big part. We have time before I’d be expected to go to New York, and we can find a way to—”
“To what?” Arden asked with an angry, crackling energy in her voice. “To pack my bags so I can follow you? To get tired of each other so we don’t care anymore?”
Emilie knew Arden wasn’t really mad at her but that she was hurting as she faced what she had dreaded all along. Still, Emilie responded in angry tones as well, be
cause she was in pain, too. Torn between this amazing offer and the beauty she had recognized in her relationship with Arden.
“You’ve always expected me to move away, Arden, and I’ve never lied about being uncertain where my acting would take me. We’re working on the same time frame we had this morning. Until the end of the season. Why does anything have to change right now?”
Arden picked up her hedge trimmers, then tossed them down again. They speared into the ground and remained upright, embedded in the dirt. She ran her hands over her face and through her hair, leaving a few glossy brown strands out of place. “Everything has changed, Emilie.”
Emilie shook her head. She remembered their conversation a mere two days ago, when she had agreed to let Arden go without a fight when she had reached her limit, unable to handle the intrusion of the unpredictable life of an actor into her own steady and ordered world any longer. Emilie had made that promise to Arden because she thought she’d have more time. To connect them, to join them so fully that Arden would be forced to make room in her future for Emilie. Two days? Not nearly enough time for Arden to fall in love as deeply as Emilie already had. Only enough for her to become more aware of the pain she’d feel if they separated, and to give up before they had a chance to try.
“I told you I would decide when I’d gone far enough, Emilie,” Arden said, as if reading her thoughts. “This is it. My breaking point. You need to go to New York. See where this play can take you, because I know for certain that you’ll go far.” Her voice softened. “I’m proud of you, Em. I’m sad now, but I’m happy to know you’ve got what you wanted.”
Emilie brushed at the tears dampening her cheeks. “But I want—”
Arden stopped her again. She closed her eyes. “Don’t say it, Em. Don’t make it worse for me. Just go, please, and blow their minds in New York.”
No matter what she had promised, Emilie wouldn’t have been able to walk away from Arden, but Arden didn’t wait for her to go. She picked up her hedge trimmers and walked away, farther into the woods.
Chapter Twenty-one
Arden used her boot to sink the shovel deep into the earth, scooping up a heap of dirt and flinging it over her shoulder. She heard a yelp and a curse behind her and turned to see Jacob and Joe standing there with clumps of loamy soil on their shirts.
“Sorry,” she said with a sigh. Two weeks without seeing Emilie, and she still hadn’t regained control of her emotions. She had been taking out her frustration and sadness on the dirt and tools in the park until her garden implements were as dented as Joe’s.
“That’s okay, sweetheart,” Jacob said in his grandfatherly tone. She wished he’d go back to being her friend and boss and stop acting like he felt sorry for her. She was full of enough self-pity as it was, and his kindness made her want to cry on his shoulder. She’d rather he yelled at her about leaving a sloppy mess of dirt on the park trail.
“I think the hole is big enough,” Joe commented in his dry way. He was a seasonal hire from the college, all legs and arms and laid-back attitude.
Arden followed his gaze and saw the massive hole she had dug next to the small azalea she was about to plant. She could fit the entire shrub, foliage and all, in the ground.
“I want to give its roots room to spread,” she said. She had to smile at her handiwork, and the muscles in her cheeks felt as if they hadn’t moved into a grin for days. “But if Master Gardener Joe thinks it’s too deep, I’ll fill it in a little.”
Jacob laughed and patted her on the shoulder, probably relieved to see her wear any expression besides the dark scowl that had seemed permanently glued to her face for days. He and Joe pulled small trowels out of her bucket and helped her scrape some of the soil back where it belonged.
“Woman troubles, huh?” Joe said. When Arden looked at him in surprise, he shrugged. “Jacob told me. He needed advice.”
“Really. And what words of wisdom did you have for him?” Arden stood with one hand on her hip and the other on the shovel.
“I want to make you happy again, Arden,” Jacob said, eyeing her shovel with a wary expression, as if he was worried she might whack him with it. “I thought a younger person, someone closer to your age, might understand what you’re going through and tell me what to say.” He glared at Joe. “But he wasn’t any help at all.”
“I said you should move on,” Joe commented, pulling the azalea out of the plastic pot and settling it in the correctly sized hole. He managed to snap off a few small branches and a handful of leaves along the way. “Have you seen the women around this town? Hot, hot, hot. Yours was one of the hottest, I’ll give you that, but there are plenty of other options. If you want, you can party with me this weekend. I’ll introduce you around.”
Arden bent down to pick up the broken twigs and rescue the azalea from Joe’s ministrations. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m a little too old to be hunting for a date at a college party. Besides, I’m not looking for someone else.”
“See? I told you it was a bad idea,” Jacob said. “What Arden needs to do is go with Emilie. You’d like New York, Arden. Central Park, the Statue of Liberty…um, Rockefeller Center.”
Arden patted the dirt loosely around the base of the plant and stood up, wiping her palms on her jeans and leaving muddy smears across her thighs. “Thank you, both of you, for meddling in my personal life. I don’t know how I’ll choose between those options. A frat party, or sightseeing in New York.” She pretended to weigh them in her hands before she glared at both of them—her scowl back in full force—and picked up her bucket.
“I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” She elbowed Jacob on her way past, just to let him know she wasn’t truly angry with him, and walked to the maintenance shack. They meant well, but neither of them understood her situation. She couldn’t pack up her life and traipse after Emilie, becoming the very person Emilie herself had been in Europe. Em had been miserable there, without her career and a life of her own. And Joe’s suggestion was ridiculous. Arden would eventually find another woman to date—but not at a college party, and not anytime soon. Emilie couldn’t be wiped out of her head and heart that easily.
She quickly pulled off her dusty T-shirt and replaced it with a clean shirt. She buttoned it and straightened the collar, going through the motions of her day as if she was a programmed machine. She hadn’t been able to spend much time at home, choosing instead to spend the evenings with her friends in Lisa’s pub. She hadn’t been in her garden since her night there with Em, but she’d have to face it soon. The weeds had probably already staged a coup and taken over the delicate beds of herbs.
A pint of beer was waiting for her in front of the bar stool next to where Rebecca and Marty sat. Arden paused in the doorway for a moment, appreciating her friends now more than ever. They went out on occasion, but for the past weeks they had spent every night sitting in the bar, keeping her company and chatting about anything but Emilie.
They were doing their best to take Arden’s mind off her pain, and she was grateful for them and for the moments at the pub when she forgot herself for a few seconds and focused on one of their stories or laughed at one of their many arguments. It didn’t help that there was a glossy head shot of Emilie hanging over the bar, but Arden had said no when Lisa asked if she should take it down or cover it with a dartboard. She might be a masochist, but she couldn’t stand the thought of the photo disappearing. Emilie was gorgeous in it, of course, with her hair softly curling around her face and an impish smile in her eyes. Arden always felt as if Emilie was looking directly at her, just about to say something that would make Arden laugh.
“Hey,” Arden said, approaching the bar and giving her friends a hug. “Thanks for the beer.”
“You’re welcome,” Marty said. Her eyes skimmed Arden from head to toe. “Well, at least you changed your shirt this time. That’s an improvement.”
Arden looked down and saw the dirty handprints on her work jeans. “Damn. I forgot.”
Rebecca patted her shoul
der—why did everyone think they needed to do that?—and sat down so she and Marty were on either side of her. “Your socks match. We’ll count it as a win.”
Arden had to laugh at her encouraging tone. “Have I really been such a mess lately? I thought I’d been doing pretty well.”
Not inside, of course, but she had hoped to hide her mixed-up feelings from everyone else. It hadn’t worked, obviously, and she was tired of trying.
“Of course you have,” Rebecca said.
“Not really,” Marty said at the same time.
“I’ll get better. Time heals all wounds, or whatever.” Arden took a drink of her beer, barely registering the flavor. Her taste buds seemed to have vanished along with Emilie, just like her ability to see vibrant colors or recognize that her clothes were too dirty to wear in public.
“It’s been more than two weeks,” Marty said, fishing some cashews out of a plastic bowl of nuts. “We’re here for you as long as you need us, but you’re going to have to snap out of this soon. It’s not healthy.”
“Marty,” Rebecca said in a hissing whisper, as if Arden wasn’t between them and able to hear every word. “We were going to give her another few days, remember?”
“You wanted to give her more time. I wanted to bring her back to her senses last week.”
“It’s still too soon. Look at her.”
“Hey, guys, I’m right here,” Arden held up her hands, one palm facing each of them. “I’ll be fine. I’m—”
“Shh.” Marty pushed her hand away and continued talking to Rebecca. “Once she hears my solution, she and Emilie can work this out and be happy again. That’s all she really needs.”
She looked at Arden, who was following their conversation like a Ping-Pong match. “Here’s what you need to do. You don’t want to follow Emilie, and she doesn’t want to give up this dream job. So both of you should make a sacrifice. Don’t stay here, and don’t go to New York.”