One Fine Day

by Erica Abbott

  She had finally come home.

  * * *

  Jill woke to watch Caroline, lying gracefully curled on her side, breathing deeply. The sight of Caroline sleeping in her bed filled her with a peaceful joy so deep that she wondered how she had managed to ever live a single day without it.

  After Caroline had returned to Colorado, Jill had found that the aching loneliness she’d felt since they’d come apart had been replaced by fear, the fear that Caroline would leave her again. As she watched Caroline sleep, she wondered why she had fought so hard against this moment.

  For the truth was that loving Caroline had always been her fate, and trying not to love her was like trying to keep the sun from rising. She was helpless against her feelings, and she was going to love Caroline until the day she died, whether they were together or not.

  Accepting the truth of that gave her a peace she had not known for years. They belonged together, and Jill would do whatever she had to do to stay with Caroline.

  She could only pray Caroline felt the same way.

  * * *

  Jill woke again, in the thin gray light that preceded dawn. Disorientated, she felt a warm body move against her back before she remembered: Caroline.

  It hadn’t been just a dream after all. She turned over to see Caroline smiling at her. “Hi,” she said softly.

  Caroline said, “How did you sleep?”

  “Better than I have in years,” she answered honestly. “You?”

  “Superbly. Except for the guilt.”

  Jill frowned.

  Caroline laughed a little and smoothed away the line between Jill’s eyebrows with her thumb. “Guilt over falling asleep on you.”

  Jill relaxed and said, “Don’t worry. I just chalked it up to you being a prima donna and all.”

  Caroline leaned over and bit her lightly on the shoulder. “You’re mean,” she complained.

  The feel of Caroline’s teeth on her skin sent a ripple of desire down Jill’s body. She saw the recognition in Caroline’s eyes and Caroline smiled slowly. She moved her hand gently down Jill’s side, stroking the curve of waist into hip, and said, “I could make it up to you.”

  “Could you?”

  Caroline eased down just a little and took one breast into her hot mouth. Jill pushed into her, wrapping one leg over Caroline to bring her closer.

  In a few moments, her universe was only Caroline: her mouth, her hands on Jill’s body, the warm, soft movement of naked Caroline against her skin, the rich smell of Caroline. So long, it had been so long since she had felt like this.

  She moved her hips into Caroline, and finally felt Caroline’s fingers between her thighs.

  “You want me,” Caroline murmured, stroking through Jill’s copious wetness.

  Jill could only moan a little in response as Caroline continued to stroke her, firmly, faster.

  She cried out in release and joy, and Caroline kissed her hard, the way Jill wanted it at the moment of her climax, the way only Caroline knew how to kiss her.

  After a few moments, Caroline said worriedly, “Oh, Jillian, are you okay?”

  Jill realized she was crying, tears running across her face down to the pillows. She tried to nod, but she couldn’t stop weeping. There were so many emotions jumbled inside of her, she didn’t know which ones were causing the tears.

  Caroline pulled her close, let her cry for a while, then kissed the tear-stained cheeks until Jill relaxed again into sleep.

  * * *

  Sunlight poured through the bedroom windows, yellow as daffodils in springtime. Jill was half-propped up against the headboard, Caroline lying comfortably next to her. Caroline’s hand traced lightly on her body, seeking not to arouse but only to connect with her. Jill twisted a wavy curl of auburn hair around her finger.

  Caroline said, “I forgot how beautiful you are.”

  Jill laughed a little. “I’m not. I was never pretty, not like you, and I don’t have the same body I had at twenty.”

  “Who does?” it was Caroline’s turn to chuckle. “Or perhaps you didn’t notice my numerous droops and increased waistline.” She ran her hand down Jill’s torso. “In fact, you look too skinny to me. I’ll just have to fatten you up a little.”

  Jill kissed her temple. “How are you going to do that? I must have used up every calorie from last night’s incredible dinner and more. You insatiable hussy, you.”

  Caroline stretched luxuriously. “It wasn’t my idea to start the day with a couple of hours of decadence in bed.”

  “Oh, really?” Jill said wryly. “So I somehow misinterpreted your rubbing your gorgeous naked self against me and moaning as an invitation for me to get up and fix you breakfast?”

  “Exactly. You never could tell what I was going for.”

  “Right. Because you’re so subtle.”

  “Subtle is not in my vocabulary,” Caroline said, reaching up to put her mouth on Jill’s. The kiss deepened, and Jill brought her hands up to caress Caroline’s breasts as they moved against her.

  Caroline said into her mouth, “God, I can’t believe I want you again.”

  Jill slid down onto her back and reached for Caroline’s hips. She pulled Caroline above her, positioning Caroline’s legs on either side of her head.

  Caroline grasped the edge of the headboard and lowered herself onto Jill’s eager mouth, wondering if she would ever get enough of Jill.

  * * *

  “Are you ever going to feed me?” Caroline complained. “It’s after noon, and if I don’t eat soon, I’m not going to be able to keep up with the wicked pace you set.”

  “You haven’t had enough to eat yet?” Jill asked innocently.

  “That’s my point,” Caroline responded. “If you don’t feed me, I’m not going to have the strength to eat any more.”

  “Well, we can’t have that. Let’s see what we can rustle up from the barren wasteland that is my kitchen.”

  Jill gave Caroline her oversized robe, which was the only item in Jill’s closet that would fit her comfortably, and pulled on a T-shirt. They padded into the kitchen, and Jill pulled open the refrigerator to lean inside and take inventory.

  “I have your left-over steak from last night, half of an egg- salad sandwich from Thursday’s lunch, two pieces of pizza, and a good amount of a chef’s salad,” she announced. “What’ll it be?”

  When Caroline didn’t answer, she turned to see Caroline casually leaning against the counter, surveying the view of Jill’s naked posterior.

  “What are you doing?” Jill demanded.

  “I was thinking about dessert,” Caroline smirked.

  “You’re going to kill me,” Jill protested.

  “Let’s try.”

  “Food first, remember? What are we having?”

  “All of it. I love a smorgasbord.”

  “That’s so potentially off-color, I don’t even know where to start.”

  Caroline began to search for plates in the cupboards, smiling to herself. Jill seemed to be ten years younger, smiling and joking the way she had always remembered.

  “Let’s start with the microwave,” Caroline said. “I like my pizza hot—just the way I like my women.”

  “I’m warning you officially. If you don’t stop, you’re not going to get dessert.”

  They sat at the kitchen table and devoured all the food available, sharing everything. Caroline speared the last bite of steak from Jill’s plate and said, “That was better than pâté de foie gras and caviar.”

  “There’s a proverb that says ‘Appetite is the best sauce.’ You were starving.”

  Caroline sat back, her indigo eyes bright. “It wasn’t that. It was the company.”

  Jill smiled at her. “You don’t have to flatter me anymore. You’ve already had your way with me. Repeatedly.”

  Caroline pushed her empty plate away. “Jill. Are you all right, really? Last night, when you were crying, I didn’t know what to do. It scared me a little.”

  Jill reached across t
he table and took her hand. “You didn’t have to do anything except hold onto me. And you did.”

  “I’m not sure that answers the question.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about, Caro. I was just so…I don’t even know. Happy. Relieved. Grateful.”

  Caroline lifted their linked hands and kissed Jill’s fingers lightly. “I’m the grateful one. Thank you for giving us another chance.”

  “I meant what I said to you last night,” Jill said solemnly, her gaze fixed on Caroline. “We have to make this work, somehow. I can’t take another separation from you. The first one was too hard.”

  “I understand,” Caroline said softly. The thought hammered in her head: Tell her. Tell her. But she was still afraid, so she said instead, “What exactly are we going to do now?”

  “Go back to bed?” Jill suggested.

  “Oh, we will, don’t worry. But you know what I mean.”

  Caroline gave Jill’s hand a final squeeze and released it to sit back in her chair. “Well, I suppose we could, um, date,” she said.

  Jill laughed, and Caroline thought again how much lighter, happier, younger Jill seemed this morning.

  “Date? I thought the purpose of dating was to get to know each other, and figure out where the relationship is going. What is it you’d like to find out about me that you don’t already know, Ms. Prince?”

  “There are still a lot of things I don’t know about your life today,” Caroline said seriously. “Your work, your friends, how our lives will fit together now.”

  Jill said, “You’re right, I guess. But because we’re going to be a couple, we need to talk about you. I’m out, you know. If we start showing up together in public very much, it’s not going to be hard for people to figure out we’re together.”

  “Yes,” Caroline said. “And I want people to know. I’m tired of being discreet, Jill. I’m calling Jack Parsons on Monday and telling him. Once I’m out at work, you can stop worrying about taking me to the company picnic.” She smiled. “Do law firms have company picnics? Or are they too stuffy?”

  “Stuffy? You work in opera and you think law firms are stuffy?”

  “Good point.”

  “Are you serious, Caroline? You’re really ready to be out, all the way?”

  “As I was reminded earlier this week, it’s probably past time.”

  “It sounds like there’s a story there.”

  “There is, actually, one I’d like to tell you about.”

  They put the dishes in the dishwasher and wandered, without further discussion, back into the bedroom. Caroline crawled in next to Jill and said, “The funny thing about this story is that it’s partly Terry’s fault.”

  “Oh, now you’ve really got my curiosity going.”

  Jill sat quietly as Caroline told her about Naomi Snow, and Terry’s righteous indignation over her situation.

  As she told Jill about Terry kissing Naomi at the interview, she felt Jill shift uncomfortably beside her.

  “I’m sorry,” Caroline said quickly. “I should have thought that through. It didn’t occur to me that might be an issue for you,” she said, suppressing a little twist of jealousy.

  Jill brushed her lips reassuringly across Caroline’s forehead. “It’s not. I always hoped Terry might find someone else. But I need to tell you the truth. In the two years since Terry moved out, we’ve been together a few times. The last time…” She drew a deep breath, and then continued, “The last time was the evening you met us at Varga.”

  Caroline didn’t say anything, and Jill hurried on, “I’m sorry now that I went home with her that night. But I was pretty off-balance, seeing you again, and I just…”

  “Jill,” Caroline said softly. “It’s all right. You and Terry have history, too, I understand. It’s okay. Just so long as we’re clear: I’m not sharing you with anyone. You belong to me again now, and I belong to you. Exclusively. Right?”

  “Yes,” Jill said. “You know I will never lie to you, Caroline.”

  The fangs of guilt bit into her again, but Caroline ignored them to reach up for Jill. “I know, sweetheart,” she murmured.

  * * *

  “I love this scene,” Jill exclaimed, stopping the handful of popcorn just as it got to her mouth.

  They watched Humphrey Bogart grab the thug’s coat and pull it down over his arms, pinning them so that Bogie’s Sam Spade could grab his gun.

  “How many times have you seen The Maltese Falcon, anyway?” Caroline asked.

  “I have no idea,” Jill admitted, crunching the popcorn. “But it never gets old.”

  “Overlooking the fact that it was already old when you were born,” Caroline said.

  “Very funny. The classics never age.” She leaned over on the couch for more popcorn from the bowl on Caroline’s lap. “Like Madama Butterfly.”

  “You’re actually comparing a black-and-white detective movie to one of the greatest operas ever composed?” Caroline asked, aghast.

  “It’s not just a black-and-white movie,” Jill responded vehemently. “It’s got to be the best noir story ever, and it’s perfectly cast. Who could be a better Sam Spade than Bogart?”

  “You may have your Bogart,” Caroline said. “I’ll take Mary Astor. I love it when she pushes her hands through that short hair. Very sexy. Reminds me of someone.”

  Jill said innocently, “Really? Who?”

  “I’m not telling. Your ego is already way too inflated.”

  “What on earth are you talking about?”

  Caroline deliberately licked a trace of butter and salt from her fingertips, and enjoyed watching Jill watch her. “You looked very smug this afternoon. I think it’s been a while since you had to change your sheets in the middle of the day.”

  “That was your fault. And talk about smug.”

  They watched Sam Spade verbally spar with Sydney Greenstreet’s Gutman for a while. Finally Caroline asked, “Why does Bogart call the bad guy’s thug a ‘gunsel’? Is that just a old-fashioned name for a guy carrying a gun?”

  Jill grinned at her. “Actually, it’s not. But everyone thought it was. It was really a sleight-of-hand by Hammett. In the novel, it’s fairly clear that the thug is really Gutman’s boy toy, but of course they weren’t going to print that in the nineteen thirties, so Hammett used the word ‘gunsel’ to describe him, thinking the editor would assume just what you did, that it had something to do with a gun. It’s actually a word referring to a young homosexual involved with an older man. Nobody in Hollywood caught the reference either, so it’s in the movie and slipped by the Hays Office. It’s pretty funny, really.”

  Caroline looked at Jill in amazement. “How on earth do you know all this?”

  “You pay attention and remember things that really interest you,” Jill explained.

  “Oh, I see,” Caroline said, putting the popcorn on the coffee table so that she could slide closer to Jill. “Like I remembered that one little freckle on the inside of your knee? Or the way you like to be kissed when you…”

  They missed the rest of the movie, coming up for air only when Spade announced that the falcon was “the stuff that dreams are made of.” Jill murmured, “What would you like now? We could always watch The Big Sleep.”

  “You’re only offering that one because you know I have this crush on Lauren Bacall.”

  “I’m not sure I can compete with Lauren Bacall.”

  “You don’t have to,” Caroline responded sweetly. “It’s no contest. You’re much sexier.”

  “Well, I am now, maybe. She’s in her eighties.”

  “I have news for you,” Caroline said. “When you’re in your eighties, I’ll still find you very sexy.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so. And just to remind you—I’m going to be here to prove it to you.”

  Jill leaned over for another kiss, deep and long. “Let’s skip the movie,” she whispered.

  “I’d love to. I think I heard something last night about the piano bench
.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jill was listening to opera and smiling to herself when Kim McGarrett came into her office Monday morning.

  “Is now a good time?” Kim asked.

  “Perfect,” Jill said, turning down the sound from the speakers. “How was your weekend?”

  “Um, it was good,” Kim seemed a little surprised by a personal question. “We took the dogs to that big dog park down by Cherry Creek Dam. They ran around like maniacs. It exhausted us just watching them.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  “It was. After working almost all last weekend, Jerry couldn’t believe I could just goof around. We went to the Rockies game on Sunday afternoon.” She looked at Jill and asked carefully, “And how about you? Did you celebrate getting the case resolved?”

  Jill tried not to let her smile broaden into a stupid grin. “I did,” she answered, declining to add that she had other, much more important things to celebrate.

  “Well,” Kim said, a little hesitantly, “you must have had a good time. I mean, you look really…um, rested, and stuff.”

  Rested? Jill wanted to laugh. It was true, in a way. She was a chronic insomniac, but it felt as if she’d gotten more sleep the last three nights in Caroline’s arms than she had had in the previous three months, even figuring in the frequent interruptions. When she’d looked at herself in the mirror this morning, she could see happiness written in every line of her face.

  This was what it had been like before, she reminded herself. Days of hard work followed by evenings relaxing with Caroline, and by nights of peace and loving her. How, she asked herself for the hundredth time, had she survived all these years without her love?

  She’d gambled her heart on trusting Caroline and she felt like a woman who’d broken the bank at Monte Carlo.

  Kim was looking at her curiously and, Jill thought, perhaps a little enviously.

  She cleared her throat. “I want to go over Friday’s meeting with you, but I want to tell you first that you did a great job on the research. I’ve already placed a memo in your personnel file about the good work you did on this case, which will be a help to you as you move through your career.”