by Karis Walsh
Did Mel even want something deeper than what she and Pam shared, a real commitment, a lifetime of love? No. Not when she couldn’t even let someone pack a lunch for her without panicking about her lost sense of self. Not yet, when she still had so far to go before she felt secure in her ability to take care of herself, her business, her goals and dreams—but, maybe, someday. Because pushing past her fear and trusting Pam completely in bed had been gloriously worthwhile. How much more rewarding would it be to push past her fears of committing to a loving partner? Could she find some middle ground between being fiercely independent and subjugating herself to a relationship?
Mel felt a wave of irrational jealousy as she watched Pam and Danny fight playfully over the binoculars. She liked seeing Danny and Pam form a tentative friendship. She liked it more than she’d ever admit to Pam because intuition told her Pam would freak if she thought Danny was getting attached to her. Getting close with Danny, like Pam had with Kevin, would be a sign of looming commitment, a warning to back off.
But Mel was jealous because she couldn’t seem to break past Pam’s barriers as easily as her son had. Years of hiding her sexuality and painstakingly keeping up the veneer of a false marriage had replaced her natural friendliness with a careful reserve. She wanted to find her way back to her real self, not swap her old lies with new ones.
Danny jogged ahead with Piper and they scrambled up a pile of big rocks alongside the trail. Pam stopped to examine the leaves of a bush growing alongside the path and Mel caught up to her.
“Come see what I found,” Pam said. Mel stepped closer and looked at the waxy green leaf.
“Big deal, it’s just a…oh!” Mel finally spotted the tiny green frog, no bigger than her thumbnail, nestled in the bend of the leaf.
“How’d you find it?”
Pam shrugged. “I notice things. My grandfather taught me. He rarely went outside without binoculars and a stack of field guides.”
Mel expected Pam to launch into a detailed account of the evolution of frogs, but instead she put her hand on Mel’s back.
“Are you okay?”
Mel sighed, her tension and anger melting under the heat from Pam’s palm, the gentle kneading motion on her tight muscles, the caress of Pam’s breath against her neck. Mel stood in silence for a moment and let Pam’s nearness reassure her. Mel’s common sense might want her to keep her options open for future relationships, but her body still reveled in right now. She took a step back.
“It’s hard,” she said. “Hiding us from Danny. I spent too many years in hiding.”
“Tell him if you want,” Pam said. They started walking again, slowly following the trail Danny and Piper had taken.
“Tell him what?” Mel asked. Fishing. She couldn’t ask Pam to define their relationship, give her some hope of something possible somewhere down the road. But she could find out how Pam would describe what they had, how she would explain it to Danny.
“That we’re sleeping together, of course.” Pam shrugged. So casual. “I’m fine with it, but be sure you think it through first.”
“Think what through?” Mel heard the harsh notes returning to her voice. Question indirectly asked, question answered. Not dating, not a couple. She knew that already. So why was she still mad?
“Whether I want to be honest with my son?”
Pam stopped again and faced Mel. “You told him you’re gay, right?” Mel nodded. “So you’re being honest about who you are. But you came out as an adult, after a lot of years in a passionless marriage. It’s only normal you’d want to experiment a little, make up for lost time. Are you going to tell him about every woman you date? Every woman you sleep with?”
“No, I guess not.” A fling with Pam, a string of short-term romances selected from her pool of single guests. How safe. How easy to keep her distance, avoid the threat that intimacy and openness posed to her individuality. She was blaming Pam for not wanting more, not offering even the hope of a future together. But was that part of the reason Mel had gone so willingly into her arms? Her physical attraction to Pam was undeniable. But Mel had been alone for so long. Was she isolating herself out of habit now? Accepting transitory flings because she was too scared to let anyone too close?
Pam was supposed to be the one who kept up barriers, kept everyone at a distance. But maybe Mel was doing the same thing.
Pam tucked Mel’s hair behind her ear. “Danny’s a good kid. He’s going to get attached to people in your life. I don’t see any reason to give him the details of an affair unless it’s about more than sex. He’s your son, not your hairdresser.”
Mel laughed along with Pam as they moved forward again, but she could feel the muscles in her jaw tighten as she forced a smile.
Pam was right about one thing. Danny deserved to know if she had found a potential partner, someone who would become part of their lives. But she hadn’t. She sat on a large rock to rest while Pam and Danny scanned the trees for some kind of wren Pam had heard. She knew what Pam wanted—just sex. Another limitation in a lifetime full of them. But Mel had stopped limiting herself when she bought the inn. Every day had seemed the same in her old life. A month had stretched to a year, had stretched to eighteen years. With little change, little growth, nothing to separate the days in her mind except for having a child and celebrating his milestones.
But that had changed last August. Since then she’d had some bad days filled with setbacks and doubts. And great days marked by hung paintings and a wedding and a water heater she’d installed on her own. Peaks and valleys. Dimension in a life that had once been so flat.
“Is ornithology class over yet?” she asked. Sex with Pam was definitely one of the highest peaks. Mel had no fucking clue how she’d climb out of the valley when Pam left. But she would. And she’d be stronger because of it. She stood and hooked her backpack over one shoulder. “I’m ready for lunch.”
Chapter Eighteen
Pam turned and saw Mel standing in sunlight as it filtered through the tree branches. Shadow and light. So very beautiful. “I’m hungry, too,” Pam said. “Let’s take the cliff trail on the way back.”
Pam led the way along a narrow path through the forest, relieved they had to walk single file for a few minutes. Mel and Danny followed, making enough noise to scare off every bird in the county.
Pam glanced back. Danny was trying to get at the bag of brownies in Mel’s backpack, and she was fending him off with a tree branch she must have picked up along the way. Pam looked at the trail in front of her again, fighting to hide her smile and her shock at how relieved she was to hear Mel’s laughter again. Mel had been so withdrawn most of the day, but not first thing in the morning. Then Pam had felt the energy of sex between them. The sex they had been denied the night before. The sex she was certain they both missed. Pam stopped when the forest gave way to a breathtaking view of the ocean. She never got tired of this place. She just wasn’t accustomed to sharing it with anyone else.
Pam scanned the horizon with her high-powered binoculars. She wasn’t surprised by the absence of whales off the coast. The day was perfect for viewing, with a fairly calm sea and an overcast sky that kept the water free from glare, but there wasn’t a whale in sight.
“There’s a seal,” she said, handing the binoculars to Mel. She stood beside Mel and pointed out to sea, where she could just barely see the seal’s head bobbing with the waves. She didn’t touch Mel, but she leaned so her chin was near Mel’s shoulder, her lips only millimeters from Mel’s neck. Torturing herself. So close she could put out her tongue and trace the curve of Mel’s ear, the way that drove Mel crazy. Pam liked knowing that about her. Liked the way Mel’s breathing changed and the way she swayed toward Pam before she moved away.
“I can’t see it,” Mel said, handing the binoculars to Danny. “You try.” Pam saw the slight flush of arousal on Mel’s neck when she turned around. She definitely saw a hint of passion in the smile Mel gave her while Danny searched for the seal. But she saw sadness, too. In Mel
’s smile, in her eyes. When Danny gave up on finding the seal, they walked the rest of the way to the picnic area in silence. Mel had something on her mind, but Pam didn’t want to ask what it was.
Because she thought she knew. She had hoped Mel would be satisfied with sex, with their amazing physical connection, without wanting more. But she had heard the dissatisfaction in Mel’s voice when they had talked about Danny.
Of course Mel would eventually want more. Had Pam really expected them to keep things private and casual for long when Danny spent most weekends at the inn? Going on outings, making kites, sharing meals. No matter how hard Pam tried to keep her distance, she’d be sucked in. Even today, she had made an effort to be impersonal and unemotional. A tour guide. Talking about birds and trees and the park’s history. But she had spent more time laughing and joking with Danny than actually teaching him anything. And more time thinking about Mel, trying to sneak a kiss or a touch, than was comfortable.
Pam brought them out of the woods, and they found a picnic table overlooking the beach. Mel set out the lunch while Danny alternated between hunting for whales or other sea life and watching a group of surfers who were attempting to find a wave large enough to ride. Pam sat in silence, as introspective as Mel had been earlier. She had been deluding herself about this being a casual, long-term arrangement. A convenient sexual relationship with no chance of change or growth.
Or ending. Pam didn’t want it to end. But if Mel eventually wanted more, they’d both end up hurt. Better to get hurt now, before anyone got too close. Before anyone felt like the three of them were forming some sort of family. Pam knew too well how bad the pain would be if she and Mel let this go on too long.
“Hey, Pam,”—Danny broke into her uncomfortable thoughts—“I thought all seagulls were the same, just big white birds, but that one has darker wings. Are there different kinds?”
Pam latched onto the topic with relief, glad to be distracted before she really decided she needed to break things off with Mel. Because she couldn’t do it yet. Soon, probably. But not yet. She thought she saw Mel roll her eyes as she launched into a discussion about the differing characteristics of glaucous-winged and mew gulls, but she kept talking. She was more comfortable focusing on the details of the plants and creatures around her than sifting through the mixed-up emotions she felt around Mel. Describing, identifying, naming.
Until her mind was relaxed by the list of clearly defined birds or trees.
Instead of confused by the pleasure and sorrow of being joined to this family for a very short time.
She certainly wasn’t willing to travel down this road again since it would inevitably lead to heartbreak. But, for some reason, she was suddenly so willing to stand on it for a moment, holding Mel’s hand, before she went her own way.
Pam switched her attention to five pelicans flying in a V-formation just off the shore. Even without binoculars, she could see the tiny ripples made by the tips of their wings as they flew with rhythm and precision mere inches off the water’s surface. She pointed them out to Danny and was explaining ground effect, when a sense of déjà vu made her falter for a moment. The day had reminded her of something, and she finally made the connection. A county fair, a day of food and laughter and the bright flashes of amusement park rides.
She had carried Kevin through the animal barns, talking to him about the sheep and goats and cows. She’d held him on a shiny carousel horse while he’d clapped in time to the music and waved at Diane every time they swirled past her. And when he had called for his mommy to help him throw a ring and win a stuffed bear, he had been calling to her. Only a week later, she was nobody to him. Because Diane had decided to leave, and Pam had had no way to stop her.
She stumbled through the rest of her pelican lecture and stood up, mumbling something about finding the public restrooms. She walked to the far side of the parking lot and lit a cigarette. Mel shouldn’t tell Danny about their affair. Pam would be out of their lives soon enough, but this time she would be in control and walk away on her own. She leaned against a signpost and shut her eyes as she exhaled a long breath of smoke, trying to exorcise the memory that had thrust itself on her day.
“Mom said to tell you to put out the cigarette and come eat lunch.”
Danny’s voice made Pam open her eyes. She gave him a guilty smile and stubbed out her cigarette on the pavement before throwing it away. “I’m surprised she sent you. I’ve been under strict orders not to let you see me smoke.”
“Yeah, I might think you look so cool I’ll want to try,” Danny said with a laugh. “Unlikely. I’ve seen the real lung from a smoker.
Didn’t look like it’d be good for my football career.”
“Smart kid,” Pam said. She started walking back to Mel, but Danny stopped her.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, I guess,” Pam said warily, hoping it was a question about birds. Or an interesting tree he had seen.
“Are you gay?”
Not a question about birds. Damn. “Yes, I am.”
“So’s my mom. But you know that already, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do. She told me.” Pam shifted her weight and glanced over her shoulder. She wished Mel would come over and rescue her.
She should be the one to answer her son’s questions.
Danny hesitated, as if unsure how to ask his next question. “Do you like her?”
“Are you asking whether I like her like her, or just like her?”
Pam asked, buying some time before she answered. She had blithely told Mel to say they were just sleeping together, but now the phrasing seemed inappropriate. But she wasn’t going to lie to him.
“Yeah.”
“Something in between, I guess,” she said. “I really like your mom. I like spending time with her. But, no, we’re not in a serious relationship. We’re very good friends, but not girlfriends.” Pam stopped rambling. How many ways could she say it? I’m involved with your mom, but I’m not planning to stick around, so don’t worry about it. Danny was a smart kid, and Pam should have known he wouldn’t need to hear the words to pick up on the energy between them and be upset by it. But he didn’t seem upset to hear they were something more than friends. He seemed…relieved? Happy?
“Okay,” Danny said. He started to walk across the parking lot again, and Pam hurried to catch up. “I just thought you might be… dating.”
“No. We’re friends, that’s it. She gave me a place to stay, and I’m painting some pictures for her inn. Friends.” She emphasized the last word and Danny nodded as if he understood. They walked side by side in silence for a few steps.
“Because she’s really great, you know,” he said in a rush. “When she’s not making you do stuff like sand the floors.”
“I know,” Pam said “And don’t tell her, but I kind of like helping with her projects.”
“Yeah, me too. And she’s a good cook, most of the time.”
“She makes great oatmeal.” Pam halted again. “Wait, are you saying you want me to date your mom?”
Danny shrugged. “You make her smile. And I don’t like to think of her being here all alone. Plus, I like your dog.”
Pam laughed at his final sentence, but the rest of the conversation troubled her. They got back to the picnic table and Pam sat facing Mel and Danny. Mel smiled at her, appearing a little more at ease, and started chatting with Danny as if determined to put aside her earlier reserve. Pam was silent as they ate, half listening to their talk about the upcoming holidays. She had been so concerned about reassuring Danny because she thought he wouldn’t want her dating his mother.
To hear him admit he’d be okay with it, and to realize he must have picked up on something between her and Mel, was disturbing. She and Mel might only want a quick fling, but there was another person involved. Now when Pam left, she risked hurting not just Mel but Danny, too. She needed to end this affair before someone started to expect her to stick around permanently.
“What
kind of bird is that?” Mel asked quietly.
Pam looked down in surprise to find she had been sketching on Mel’s napkin. “A kingfisher,” she said. “He’s right over there, on the railing.”
Danny twisted around to look at the long-billed, gray bird. “I want to be able to do that,” he said.
“Perch on a railing?” Pam asked, putting down Mel’s pen and taking a bite of chicken salad sandwich.
“Ha-ha. No, I want to draw and paint like you do.”
Pam continued to eat while Mel picked up on Danny’s topic, and the two of them eventually came up with a plan to have Pam give them a lesson.
“We can have it tomorrow in the studio,” Mel said.
Pam sighed. Mel was going to get her on display in that studio if it killed her. “I’m not a teacher.”
“We’re beginners, so we won’t know the difference,” Mel said.
Pam looked at the two of them and wanted to say no. But it had been a day of nos. No whales, no don’t tell your son about us, no I can’t date your mother. This was a chance to say yes, to do something simple for them. But would it be simple to share her art without revealing too much of her private pain? Pam would have to find out.
“Sure, I’ll give you guys an art lesson.” No problem.
Chapter Nineteen
Pam set up her easel behind the two she had borrowed from Tia. She put a canvas on each one and then stood back to check the light. She shifted one of the easels closer to the window.
A tall table held a few brushes with freshly cleaned downy bristles and soft-leaded pencils within arm’s reach of her students’ canvases.
She put the palettes and trays of paint next to her own easel. This time, she would mix the paints herself, once she knew what Mel and Danny wanted to paint. She would be quicker to blend the colors, and they could focus on getting a feel for brush on canvas. A faint urge stirred inside when she unpacked the palettes and smelled the phenolic residue from their recent scrubbing. She’d resist the scent of oils, the graphite, the washed canvases. She’d mix paint for Mel and Danny, not for herself.