The House on Sandstone

by KG MacGregor

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  "Well, if his memory’s any good, he could just call me Carl and we’d be even."

  "He told me they used to give you a pretty hard time in high school. He was surprised you’d even consider going to the reunion."

  "I haven’t made up my mind for sure. I really don’t have many good memories of that time, but I’d sort of like to show people that I rose above it all, and that I wasn’t the loser they thought I was. Maybe a few of them have grown up and turned into nicer people."

  She took a drink of her latte and looked into her new friend’s kind brown eyes. "That’s probably asking a lot of people here, I guess."

  Daniel shrugged. "But that’s usually how you get something–by asking for it. Sometimes you just have to confront people’s fears and prejudices and force the issue. I don’t mean get in their face or anything–especially in a town like this. But you can’t take on all the shame they want you to wear."

  "You make it sound a lot easier than it is, though. I know a woman here who’s been through hell. She faces these people every day, and she’s one of the nicest people I know.

  But they still judge her."

  The store owner nodded grimly. "And sometimes, it doesn’t matter what you do. But at the end of the day, the face looking back at you in the mirror is the one you have to answer to. I’m just not willing to give those people that kind of power over me."

  "Have you and Rich had any trouble since you’ve been here?"

  "Not really. I had a bunch of high school kids come in here one day and unscrew all the caps on the condiments. They sat there laughing at people when they went to use stuff. I figured it was just teenage mischief until I went over and told them to hit the road. They made sure to yell ‘faggot’ a couple of times on their way out."

  Carly couldn’t help but wonder if that group of teens had been Trey Sharpe and his friends. The scenario Daniel described was eerily similar to what had happened at the theater.

  "But that was all. There were a bunch of people in here when it happened. If it bothered anybody, I never heard about it. It sure hasn’t hurt business."

  "I can see that."

  A new wave of customers walked in and Daniel got up to hurry behind the counter before she could ask him why he’d been so noncommittal about the store being here the next time she came back to Leland. Carly finished her coffee and checked her watch. Perry would be out on his run by now. That meant she’d have the warehouse to herself to work on the inventory. She took her large mug back to the counter. "See you later, Daniel.

  Have a good one."

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  Stepping out onto the sidewalk, Carly drew in a deep breath of winter air. What Daniel had said about having the courage to show your true self to people sure rang true, but it was hard to tell people who had known her for so long that they didn’t really know her at all. By hiding for so long, she’d made herself a prisoner.

  **********

  "You aren’t planning on getting me drunk again, are you?" Justine opened her door to find her shivering friend holding another bottle of what she now referred to as Very Evil Old Pale cognac.

  "I’ll try to show a little restraint," Carly promised feebly. "Thanks for inviting me over."

  They had touched base a couple of times since Sunday just to check in, but as the afternoon passed without a resolution to the problem with Perry, Carly was feeling down in the dumps and wanted to talk with somebody.

  "I got a set of those brandy glasses at the mall in Lexington. I’ll get us a couple. You go on in the den and make yourself at home."

  Carly found a warm fire crackling, and the couch had been pulled closer to the hearth. A paperback novel lay on the end table, its back folded open to mark the page. The blonde woman took a seat at the far end of the couch, setting the bottle by the hearth to warm.

  "I heated these glasses like you showed me last time." Justine produced two snifters and sat down on the couch midway between where Carly sat and the other end. "So what’s going on? You sounded so down on the phone."

  Carly poured the cognac and told the story of Perry, and how she’d decided today that she would apologize to him first, but he saw her coming and took off.

  Justine was stirred by the sadness in Carly’s voice, and when she reached out her arms to offer comfort, the blonde woman dissolved into unexpected tears in her embrace. She’d never seen Carly this vulnerable, and she tightened her grip to pull her even closer. "I’m so sorry. I know how it must hurt."

  "How can somebody who’s supposed to love you all of a sudden not want you to be happy?"

  "Perry wants you to be happy. He just wants you to be happy with a man, ’cause that’s what he’s comfortable with. He doesn’t understand."

  "But he shouldn’t have acted like that. Nothing I said mattered."

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  "He just didn’t want to hear it, Carly. And I guess he thought if he raised those doubts, you might really consider it."

  "That’s stupid."

  "Of course it is."

  Carly disentangled from the long arms and sat up, wiping away the remnants of her tears.

  "Sorry, I didn’t mean to blubber all over you."

  "That’s all right. Friends do that for each other." Guiltily, Justine admitted to herself that she’d been glad to have Carly in her arms, for whatever reason. It felt nice to hold her close like that; under other circumstances, it might have been more than just a comforting embrace.

  Carly reached for the bottle and popped the cork off the top. "I know I said I wouldn’t get you drunk, but I think I’m going to have one more. You gonna join me?"

  Justine sighed. "You know, I promised God I’d never drink this stuff again if he let me survive the last time."

  "It’s not the same bottle."

  The redhead chuckled and held out her glass. "If I ask for more of this, you have to tell me no. I have to go to work tomorrow."

  "It’s a deal." Carly poured their drinks and settled back onto the couch. "What do you think I ought to do about Perry?"

  "I think you’ll feel better if you talk to him."

  "I just can’t believe he thinks I could be happy if I found the right guy."

  "I think my kids are probably the same way about me."

  "Did you ever talk to them about it? I know you told them about Petra, but have you ever told them that you might…like women?"

  "Are you kidding? I didn’t even tell myself that until about a year ago. I wanted to believe that it was just Petra…that it was because it was taboo, and that’s what made it so exciting."

  "What happened to change your mind?"

  Justine sighed. "Valerie’s helped me see a lot of stuff in therapy. She asks a lot of hard questions. And then she encouraged me to…go out and meet some other women."

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  "Oh yeah?" For some reason, it hadn’t occurred to Carly at all that Justine might have been with other women. The very idea made her irrationally jealous.

  "Yeah, she thought I ought to go out to a club or something and see how I felt being around that sort of thing. So I went up to Cincinnati one weekend to a lesbian bar. It was a disaster." Justine wasn’t so sure she wanted to tell this story. "But you didn’t come over here to hear about all that. We need to figure out how to fix things with your cousin."

  "I’m going to talk to him again, like you said. I need to apologize for what I said…maybe try again to make him see that I’ve already worked through all the doubts. I really am happy with who I am."

  "Well you should be. I think you’re a wonderful person, Carly Griffin. You’re just about the nicest person I know." Nice didn’t begin to describe what Justine was feeling right now about the blonde woman. She didn’t know if the cognac was again to blame, but being with Carly and talking like this felt great.

  "I feel the same way ab
out you, you know." Carly was keenly aware that her emotions were creeping toward the danger zone, the place where her feelings wandered beyond the boundaries of just friendship. Justine was so beautiful…But her friend had made it clear that she wasn’t interested in that kind of relationship; she wasn’t going to risk alienating her kids again. Carly needed to move this back to safer territory before she gave herself away and ruined everything. "So am I going to get to hear about what happened in Cincinnati?"

  Justine visibly shuddered. "I’ve tried to purge it from my memory, but it’s no use. I doubt I’ll ever set foot in another lesbian bar."

  "Now I know I have to hear it."

  "I don’t think I was ever so nervous in my life. I found this site on the internet that listed the clubs and all in the Cincinnati area. This one was just for women, so I decided I’d go see what it was about. When I found the place, I sat in the parking lot for over an hour trying to get up the nerve to go in. It was in a strip mall, and it had the neon beer lights in the window. There were all kinds of women going in there…some of them were kind of pretty, but they were a lot younger than I was. I sure wasn’t looking for anything like that."

  "What were you looking for?"

  "Nothing in particular…I just wanted to see how it felt to be around a group of women like that. I thought maybe it’d be nice to talk with somebody."

  "So did you meet anyone?"

  "Not exactly. I went in and looked around. They had a little dance floor, but there wasn’t anybody dancing. Most of the people were gathered around the pool tables in the back.

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  So I went up and sat at the bar. Before I knew it, this woman was leaning over me, offering to buy me a drink. She was…not my type, so–"

  "Wait–wait–wait–wait! What do you mean ‘not your type’?"

  "She was…kind of…" Justine searched her vocabulary for the right word. "She came on really strong."

  "Strong?"

  "Yeah, forceful…you know, a little too sure of herself. I was put off by it. It was a lot like getting hit on by a man. I guess I expected something a little more graceful from a woman."

  "No kidding. So what did you do? Did you tell her to beat it?"

  "No, it got worse, if you can believe it. I was looking around trying to figure out how I was gonna get my tail out of there–alone–and the next thing I know, this other woman comes over and the two of them get into it about whose new girlfriend I am."

  "God, you must have felt like a cavewoman."

  "Something like that. Anyway, they decided to settle it by shooting pool, and I excused myself to the ladies’ room. The bartender had seen the whole thing and she was kind enough to show me the back door. So I slipped into the alley and had to walk all the way around the building to get back to my car."

  Carly laughed. She would love to have a night out with Justine. And she’d make damn sure that everybody in the joint knew that this lovely lady was hers. "Would you ever go back?"

  "Not on a double dare!"

  "What if you went with me?"

  "Well, now that…Are you asking me out?"

  "Maybe. Depends on whether you’d go or not."

  Justine and Carly gazed at one another for a long moment. Carly’s eyes were playful, and the redhead was hesitant to answer, not wanting to seem overly eager in case the offer wasn’t serious.

  "Or we could go somewhere else," the blonde continued. "I know a place in Louisville where they have a DJ. It’s a nice crowd…or at least it was a couple of years ago when I went."

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  Carly was indeed serious, and Justine felt her mouth moving well before her brain fully processed the question. "Okay." I can’t believe I just said that. She would fret about it later, but going out dancing with Carly was definitely something she wanted to do.

  "How about tomorrow night?"

  "Okay." It’s got to be the cognac.

  "Why don’t we drive up and have dinner somewhere? We can go to the club about ten or so. That’s when the action picks up."

  "Okay." There must be at least a million other words in the English language, Justine. Is that the only one you’re going to use?

  Carly couldn’t believe the turn of events. She’d come over tonight to vent about her cousin, and little by little, her conversation with Justine had grown deeper and more revealing. In her wildest dreams, she wouldn’t have guessed that the night would have culminated in a date to go dancing.

  Setting her empty glass on the end table, she stood and reached for her coat on the chair.

  "I guess I should be getting on home. Forty-two years old and my mother still waits up for me."

  "Hah! I’ll trade you mothers any day."

  "No thanks."

  Justine handed her the Hennessy’s bottle and walked her to the door. "I’m glad you came over, Carly. It makes me feel good that you’re comfortable enough with me to talk about things on your mind. I hope we don’t ever lose that again."

  The sincerity in Justine’s voice gripped Carly’s heart, and she reached out to take the woman’s hand. "We’re not going to lose it, Justine. I promise." The redhead pulled her closer and for the briefest moment as their eyes locked, Carly thought they might kiss.

  Instead, Justine wrapped her in a strong hug. When she felt the long arms go limp, she stepped away and smiled.

  "I’ll call you tomorrow to firm things up. Thanks for letting me cry on your shoulder."

  "Anytime." Anytime at all.

  **********

  "Now don’t be acting like you don’t really want to go. At least your mouth had the guts to speak up, even if your brain flew right up the chimney." As was her practice, Justine deconstructed her evening as she got ready for bed. The relaxing effect of the cognac was 133

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  keeping her anxiety at bay for the most part, but she needed to work through it in her head so it wouldn’t come crashing down on her tomorrow.

  She really wanted to go.

  The idea of dancing with Carly brought a surprising smile to her face. Justine had tried for days to let her feelings about the blonde woman settle into friendship–a familiar friendship, but friendship nonetheless. But every time she saw Carly, something stirred inside her that took her to another place, a place that made her body hum and her heart race.

  "Why are you holding back like this, Justine? You’re not going to have a better chance to be close to somebody you care about and not have to worry that your whole world’s going to fall apart."

  Carly was safe. She understood why Justine had to be discreet. And she was leaving Leland in less than a month. They could enjoy one another without any strings attached.

  "But that’s not fair to Carly. That’s just using her."

  But it’s not using her if you have feelings for her. And Justine definitely had feelings for her.

  The redhead finished washing her face and tossed her clothes into the hamper. When she returned to her bedroom, she didn’t hesitate, walking straight to the closet to take down the trusty shoebox.

  "You like her. So deal with it."

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  Chapter 13

  "Grace Hospital, Patient Services. This is…Hi, sweetheart. What’s up?" Justine spun in her chair to check the clock on the wall. It was unusual for her daughter to call during school hours, but she could tell from Emmy’s cheerful voice that nothing was wrong.

  An elderly man and woman walked through her door. The Patient Services Director smiled an acknowledgment and motioned for them to come to the counter.

  "That’s fine with me if it’s okay with your father." Saturday afternoon was their usual time together, but Emmy had been invited to go with Kelly and her mom to the Lexington Mall. She wanted to know if she could come by on Sunday instead. "Honey, I need to go.

  I have people in my office…Okay, I’ll see you at church."

&
nbsp; "Good morning. It’s Mr. and Mrs. Oates, right?" Justine had seen these two at Grace Hospital before. Raymond and Ginny Oates ran a small farm in Branch Fork, and he’d been hospitalized last year for a hernia. More recently, she’d seen them when they came in October to visit their grandson, a seven-year-old who died of leukemia. The old couple was dressed in farm clothes; he wore bib overalls and a flannel shirt, she wore a corduroy jumper over a high-necked sweater. Their woolen coats were threadbare in places and their boots worn and dirty.

  "That’s right," the kindly old gentleman replied. "My wife and I have something we’d like to do, and we weren’t sure who we needed to talk to about it."

  "Well, I’ll help you if I can. If not, then I bet I can find someone who can."

  The old man cleared his throat and reached into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of blue paper. "Our grandson was in here last July…he had leukemia."

  "I remember that, Mr. Oates. His name was Raymond too, wasn’t it?"

  The man and his wife both smiled softly, pleased that she remembered the little boy.

  "That’s right. They took good care of him, but…there just wasn’t anything they could do about the leukemia."

  "I’m so sorry. I can only imagine how hard Christmas is going to be for your family this year."

  Tears rolled down Ginny Oates’ cheeks as she nodded sadly.

  "We just wanted to let the folks here know how much we appreciated everything they did." Raymond unfolded the blue paper, which proved to be a personal check. "We don’t have a lot, but we wanted to give something to help the hospital with the children’s ward…since it’s the season for giving and all. We thought maybe they might get some 135