Mine

by Georgia Beers

  The front door of the house was open, the storm door screened. Rachel shaded her eyes against it and looked inside, noting the emptiness.

  “Courtney?” she called, the sound echoing through the vacant rooms. She tapped on the door lightly, not wanting to disturb the peacefulness. She called her client’s name again, then reached for the handle and pulled the door open.

  Despite the fact that she’d been in real estate for most of her adult career, Rachel still found empty houses to be just a little bit eerie, especially after she’d seen them full of furniture and life. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the inexplicable chill she got as she entered. She didn’t have to go far; Courtney was standing in the middle of the living room alone. Rachel wasn’t sure whether or not to approach her and was filled with the sudden sense that she was intruding on a private moment.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she faltered. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” As she turned to leave, Courtney spoke.

  “It’s okay.” Her voice was soft and gravelly. “Stay. I’m just about ready to go, anyway.”

  “I…” Rachel hesitated, embarrassed that she’d walked in on such a personal scene. “I was in the area and thought I’d see if I could save you the trip to my office by just picking up the keys here.” She shrugged, not knowing what else to say.

  Courtney smiled at her, a gentle curving up of the corners of her mouth that told Rachel she was touched, even if she couldn’t verbalize it at the moment. Then she lifted her face to the sun streaming in through the skylights and it shone down on her, bathing her in the warm light. Her hair was pulled back into a haphazard ponytail and the exposure of her throat made her seem so incredibly vulnerable that Rachel had to fight the sudden urge to move closer and protect her.

  “Theresa stood just like this, right here, the first time we looked at this place.” Courtney’s eyes were closed as she reminisced. “Right here. The sun was shining in just like it is today. This spot right here is the reason we bought this house. Theresa loved the sunshine.” She took a deep breath and lowered her face. When she turned to look at Rachel, there was a gentle shimmering of unshed tears. “Life turns on a dime, doesn’t it?”

  Rachel nodded.

  Courtney cleared her throat as she dug into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a set of keys. She crossed the room and placed them into Rachel’s palm. “Thanks for saving me a trip. I appreciate it.” With that, she took one last look around the empty room, nodded once, seemingly to herself, and exited through the front door.

  Rachel was still standing there, the keys a warm weight in her hand, when she heard the Jetta’s engine turn over and the car back out of the driveway.

  *

  The Sunday before Labor Day was a gorgeous day, sunny, mild, and gently breezy. The lightweight curtains at the open kitchen window fluttered like feathers as Amelia put groceries away, checking with Courtney every few minutes to see where she wanted things.

  “I’ve got to say, C., this place is really looking like a home. I can’t believe how much you’ve gotten done in two days.”

  Courtney pulled her head out of the refrigerator and smiled. “It’s good, huh?”

  “It’s great. I love it. And I’m glad you’re closer now.” She slid a box of cereal onto a shelf.

  “Me, too.”

  The move had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done in her life, but she’d made it through. Once her friends had left her on Friday night, she’d cried herself to sleep in her new bedroom that Theresa would never see, feeling more alone than she had in months. But Saturday morning seemed to bring new vitality and she vowed to embrace it. She’d called Lisa from group and talked with her a bit, knowing she would understand. Then she’d spent the day unpacking, washing dishes, hanging pictures, and making the place into what she wanted. When Amelia had arrived late Sunday morning to go grocery shopping with her, her jaw had dropped to the floor like it weighed twenty pounds and she’d stared in disbelief at the living room that looked, well, lived in.

  “Hungry?” Courtney asked now. “I’m going to make a sandwich.”

  “No, I can’t stay,” Amelia replied, smoothing back her hair. “I’ve got to get Kyle to the shoe store. I can’t believe he waited until three days before school starts to tell me we forgot to get him new sneakers. The crowds are going to be ridiculous.”

  “There will be you and soccer moms everywhere.” Courtney unscrewed the peanut butter jar and made herself a sandwich. “I, on the other hand, am going to sit on my ass on my new porch and have a glass of wine.”

  “I hate you,” Amelia sneered good-naturedly.

  “I know.” Courtney smiled at her and bit into her late lunch.

  The basement door opened with a start and they both jumped, Amelia letting out a little squeak. Mark Benetti peeked his head into the kitchen with a huge grin on his handsome face.

  “Sorry about that.” He had a toolbox in one hand and he set it on the counter. “Everything looks good down there.”

  Mark was Theresa’s big brother, and he and Courtney had always been close. Their friendship had grown even closer after Theresa died; they’d leaned on each other and helped one another be strong through those first brutal months. Theresa’s parents had been so devastated, it was all they could do to wake up each morning. They were no help for Mark. Courtney looked at him now, his curly brown hair rumpled, his dark eyes so like Theresa’s, and felt indescribably thankful that she had him in her life. He meant the world to her.

  She’d had an engineer’s inspection before she bought the house—Rachel Hart had insisted upon it—but Mark still thought it would be a good idea if he checked things out himself “just to be sure.” It was a sweet, albeit unnecessary, male gesture and Courtney loved him for it.

  She handed over her sandwich and he took an enormous bite. “Thanks for checking, Markie. I appreciate it.”

  He wiped his hand on his gray T-shirt and nodded.

  Courtney watched him, then glanced over at Amelia, who was organizing her spice cupboard, and her heart swelled. She felt so fortunate to have these people who loved her, these people who looked out for her and took care of her and came running anytime she needed something. She was about to speak her thoughts aloud when her doorbell rang. She was so unfamiliar with the sound that she just stared at Amelia for several seconds.

  “Hello? There’s somebody at your door,” Amelia said, shooing her out of the kitchen by waving a dish towel at her.

  Courtney laughed as she crossed the living room to the front door, which was open. Through the screen door, she could see a very tall silhouette standing on her porch and she faltered, suddenly wishing she was wearing something nicer than old gym shorts and a beat-up T-shirt.

  Rachel Hart was dressed more casually than Courtney had ever seen her and yet she was still stunning. Her cargo shorts were navy blue and her mile-long legs were surprisingly tanned beneath them. She had simple brown sandals on her feet, her toenails polished a deep purple. Her scoop-neck T-shirt was bright white and hugged her body as if it was tailored for her—which Courtney had to admit, it might have been—and tortoiseshell sunglasses completed the look. Her hair was loose and fluffy and looked impossibly soft, glimmering in the sun. Her hands were full and she looked the tiniest bit…unnerved.

  “Rachel,” Courtney said as she reached for the door. “Hi. It’s nice to see you.” And it was. Courtney had to admit that, too. Rachel handed a bottle of wine to Courtney, then pushed her sunglasses up onto her head. Courtney felt the need to stifle a gasp when the crystal blue of her eyes was revealed.

  “I was in the neighborhood,” Rachel said with a shrug, surprising Courtney with what seemed to be a touch of shyness.

  “You say that a lot,” Courtney said, grinning at her. “Come in. Please.” She stepped back.

  Rachel held out the other hand, which grasped a wooden and pewter bird feeder. “This is for your new yard.”

  Courtney blinked at her, enormously touc
hed. “Rachel. This is so sweet of you. It’s beautiful. You didn’t have to do this.”

  “I wanted to.” Rachel looked at the floor, and it seemed like now that her hands were empty, she didn’t know what to do with them. She tugged at her earring and then glanced up at the living room…and blinked in shock. “Wow. You did all this in two days?” There wasn’t a box to be seen and the room looked like it had been arranged this way for months.

  Courtney’s laugh filled the air. “School starts on Wednesday but I need to go in on Tuesday, so I wanted to have tomorrow to get myself ready for it. Besides, I didn’t really have much. And the cable’s not hooked up yet, much to my dismay, so there wasn’t the ever-present possibility of plopping down to watch TV. But it looks pretty good. It’s coming along.”

  Rachel was interrupted by Amelia, who entered from the kitchen, her keys jingling in one hand. “Baby, I’ve got to go,” she said, rubbing Courtney’s arm.

  “Oh,” Courtney said. “Okay. Um, Rachel Hart, this is my best friend, Amelia Tyler. Amelia, my realtor, Rachel.”

  Amelia stuck out her hand, and Courtney could see her trying to be discreet about sizing Rachel up. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Hart. My husband, Carl, is a mortgage broker and works over at the Citibank in Pittsford. I believe you’ve worked with him on occasion.”

  Rachel’s face lit in recognition as they shook hands. “Yes. Oh, Carl’s great. Very easy to work with. Please tell him I said hello.”

  “Will do.” Amelia kissed Courtney on the cheek. “Call you later, honey.”

  “Okay,” Courtney said as Amelia took her leave. She and Rachel stood somewhat awkwardly in the middle of the living room until a loud crash sounded from the kitchen.

  “I’m okay,” Mark called out and made Courtney grin.

  “My brother-in-law,” she said by way of explanation to Rachel, pointing toward the kitchen with a jerk of her head. “He was checking out the furnace and stuff. Hooking up the washer and dryer.” Turning to the kitchen, she said, “Mark, can you come in here? I’d like you to meet somebody.”

  Mark’s handsome features were tinted a gentle pink when he entered the living room, toolbox in hand and a smudge of peanut butter at the corner of his mouth. Courtney reached up and wiped it away with a chuckle before making the introductions.

  “Heading out?” Courtney asked.

  Mark nodded, his eyes darting all over the room. “Yeah. Yeah, I am. We still on for tomorrow night?”

  “As long as I can get my school stuff all set, I’ll be over for at least the first half.”

  “Cool. I’ll see you then.” He turned to Rachel and did his best to look her in the eye. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Hart.”

  “Rachel. Please. It was nice to meet you, too.”

  He blushed some more and practically ran out the door.

  Courtney waited until she heard the engine of his pickup turn over before she burst into laughter. “Oh my God. Poor Markie. I think you made him nervous.”

  “How so?” Rachel asked, smiling at Courtney.

  Courtney cocked her head at Rachel, still chuckling. “Did you look in the mirror this morning?”

  A small circle of red suddenly blossomed on each of Rachel’s cheeks and she cleared her throat. “Well, he’s very cute. It’s too bad I don’t play for his team or I’d seriously think about asking him out.” She then blinked at Courtney, almost as if she’d just realized what she’d said.

  Courtney abruptly stopped laughing altogether.

  Did she just come out to me? With the entry of that thought into her brain, Courtney realized that she hadn’t even wondered. She’d just assumed Rachel was a gay-friendly straight woman who’d found a niche customer base in the queer market. She found herself weirdly excited to learn otherwise, like she’d just discovered her team had a ringer. Part of her wanted to dance a little jig of happiness, but she managed to maintain her composure.

  Looking down at her hands, she was thankful they were full or she was certain they’d be jittery. For some reason, today Rachel was making her a little jumpy, and she suddenly sympathized with Mark. Taking a glance at her right hand, she did a double take and remarked, “This is a really nice bottle of wine, Rachel. Wow.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “I know it’s only early afternoon, but I was going to have a glass anyway.” Leaning in, she lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Back-to-school time. It’s when all us teachers take up drinking again. Care to join me?”

  Rachel smiled, a real, genuine smile, despite the fact that she seemed a bit nervous. Courtney was taken aback by the way it completely altered her face, how it went from cool and composed to friendly and gentle. “No. Thank you, though. I have to get going.”

  Courtney’s disappointment deflated her somewhat. “Oh. Okay.”

  “But I do appreciate the invite. Another time, maybe?”

  “Definitely. Thank you for stopping by.” She held up her hands. “With presents. For future reference, anybody bearing gifts is automatically moved to the head of the entry line. The bouncers have instructions.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Moving toward the door, Rachel turned back to her. “The house looks great, Courtney.”

  “Thanks. Come back again when you have more time. I’ll give you the tour and you can see it actually furnished.” Courtney had trouble keeping her eyes from roaming over Rachel’s backside as she headed down the walk to her car parked on the street. Nice. Her brain was already busy moving Rachel’s ranking from Icy Cold to Mildly Cool. And just a tad insecure, which Courtney found intriguing. If I could just get her closer to Almost Warm, that’d be a start, she thought with a giggle. I might be able to work with that. Then she stopped, realizing exactly the route her train of thought had gone. What surprised her, though, wasn’t that she’d actually been thinking somewhat sexual thoughts about a woman other than Theresa.

  What surprised her was that she’d enjoyed it.

  She chewed on that thought as she stood in the doorway and watched Rachel drive away down the quiet street.

  Courtney busied herself for another hour, throwing a load of laundry in just to test Mark’s washer-hooking-up abilities. She organized the upstairs linen closet, piling the towels in a neat, geometric stack. She smiled when she thought how Theresa would have made a snide comment about her anal-retentiveness.

  It was the opening day of football season, and she was almost glad she didn’t have the cable hooked up yet. Much as she’d enjoy watching the games, it was a beautiful day and she so wanted to test out her new porch and observe her new neighborhood. The bottle of wine Rachel brought was staring at her from the kitchen counter. She picked it up and studied it, debating. It was a very good bottle of wine. Courtney wasn’t a connoisseur by any means, but she enjoyed wine and was learning what she could little by little. This was a scarlet red merlot that she’d seen in her favorite wine store several weeks before. The description made it sound sumptuous, but on her teacher’s salary she balked at the $34 price tag, thinking she’d wait for some kind of celebration before she made a splurge like that. The fact that Rachel brought it to her was a strange, but not unwelcome coincidence.

  “A new house seems like celebration enough,” she said aloud as she dug her corkscrew out of the drawer and went to work.

  Courtney’s mother had given her and Theresa matching wicker rockers when they’d moved into their house. Now they occupied Courtney’s new open front porch and looked like they belonged there. The house was a comforting beige color that bordered on almost-yellow. The trim was cream and the accent was the deep forest green of a Christmas tree. The brown wicker rockers looked as if they were designed specifically for that particular porch, their dark green cushions matching the accent color of the house almost exactly.

  Courtney dropped into the far chair and propped her feet up on the ridge of the porch, pushing slowly to rock, enjoying the openness of the design. She sipped the wine and her eyes closed almost immediately as she let the
flavors and body of it roll around her tongue.

  “Good God,” she whispered. It wasn’t often that sipping wine was akin to an almost sexual experience, but this was so good and so sensual as she swallowed and felt it flow into her body like some magic elixir. It was the best wine she’d ever tasted.

  “Howdy, neighbor!”

  The unexpected voice was frighteningly close and so loud that it made Courtney literally flinch in her seat. Her wine sloshed, dripping onto her bare thigh, and she pressed her hand to her chest in a vain attempt to calm her racing heart. She turned to her right and saw the tall, lanky man standing in the driveway next door. He had unkempt dark hair and Coke bottle glasses that were too big for his gaunt face, but he was dressed neatly in jeans, a tucked-in blue T-shirt, and work boots. Courtney put him in his mid- to late forties.

  When she thought she could speak without squeaking, she said, “My God, you scared the crap out of me.”

  The man chuckled, a weird, stilted sound that made Courtney furrow her brows at him. “Sorry about that. My mom always said I move like a cat.” He moved closer to her house and stuck his hand over the ridge of the porch. “Bob Ross.”

  Courtney shook his hand. “Courtney McAllister.” She had to tug a bit to get him to release her.

  “Nice to meet you, Courtney. You all settled in?”

  “Yeah, I think I am.”

  “Good for you. Good for you. You from around here?”

  She nodded. “Been here all my life.”

  “Me, too,” he said, matching the pace of her nod. “You work nearby?”

  “I teach high school English.” If he noticed she left off the location, he didn’t show it. “You?”

  “I’m the head groundskeeper over at Wood and Russell.”

  “Yeah?” She had to admit to being impressed. Wood and Russell was a nationally known marketing company housed in an old mansion estate on East Avenue. The outside was positively pristine with thick, lush grass, lilac trees, and several varieties of flowers that appeared as bursts of radiant color on the property. You couldn’t drive by without remarking on its beauty. “You do a great job. That place is gorgeous.” Glancing over Bob’s head, she could see that he worked as hard on his own property. It was maniacally neat and she immediately felt the pressure to keep up.