Telling Lies Online

by Miranda MacLeod

  “Like what?” Claire asked, curious what her sister recognized in her that she couldn’t see herself.

  “You should be having adventures, Claire! Seeing the world, figuring out what you want. It’s what Mom and Dad would have wanted for you. Just look at how fearless you were, running off to Boston. Even when I tried to discourage you.”

  Claire snorted. “Sure. Look how great that turned out.”

  “But at least you tried! And, was it really so bad?” her sister challenged. “It may not have ended up the way you thought it would, but you got to experience a new place, meet new people. Fall in love?”

  “Get duped. Have my heart broken,” Claire countered.

  “At least it was more exciting than anything that was likely to happen to you if you had stayed here. And I still believe that meeting Jamie will turn out not to be such a bad thing in the long run.”

  “You mean, you think I should get back together with her,” she said, her voice flat.

  “It's not my place to say, hermanita. I think you should do whatever feels right to you. I'm going to try not to have an opinion on it anymore. But even if you never see her again, just the fact that you allowed yourself to fall in love with her at all has to open up a brighter future for you.”

  “Why? Because it was supposed to make me realize that my life would be perfect if I would just start dating women? That’s what you were figuring, right?” Claire sighed heavily. “Only, it didn’t really happen like that. I’m still waiting for that lightning bolt of clarity. Right now, I can’t picture myself ever falling in love again. Not with anyone. Honestly, I think I’m more confused now than I was before.”

  “Aha, but just a few months ago, you wouldn’t have admitted that you were confused. I think that’s progress.”

  Claire rolled her eyes. “Always the glass half full type, aren’t you.” She held up her wine glass and examined it in the glowing candle light. “My glass, however, is completely empty, and I know from previous experience that one is all I can handle. I should probably go to bed.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Theresa said. “Promise me something, though?”

  Claire raised her eyebrows in curiosity.

  “Promise me you’ll try to find something you’ve always wanted and take a risk on it, okay? Maybe not love, but something.”

  “Okay,” Claire promised, though nothing particularly risky sprang to mind.

  * * *

  Two weeks went by and Claire still hadn’t thought of a way to fulfill her promise when an oversize envelope arrived in the mail for her. Spying a return address from the not-too-distant town of Newport, Claire’s nerves jangled in alarm. Jamie. Would she open it to find a long love letter? She wasn’t sure how she would react to reading something like that.

  Her hands trembled as she sliced through the seal with a butter knife and dumped the contents on the kitchen table. She needn't have been concerned. Inside was a nondescript business envelope with a square, yellow sticky note that read ‘For You’. Nothing more. Claire’s breath hitched as she recognized Jamie’s handwriting. A cloud of disappointment settled over her at the impersonal note, even as she reasoned with herself that she hadn’t wanted anything more.

  The envelope was from a Boston law firm. Claire unfolded the letter within and began to read. According to the letter, once she signed and returned the enclosed documents, all of the funds that had been collected on the donation site for Jay’s rescue would be transferred to the Marine Institute. Claire set it down on the table when she finished and breathed a sigh of relief.

  She had known this was a possibility, as the Institute’s head of PR had contacted her via email in January with the idea. Claire’s main desire at the time had been to put the whole sorry mess behind her with as little attention as possible, and the PR person had agreed wholeheartedly. They determined that the easiest course of action would be to transfer the account to the Institute and allow them to figure out what to do with it from there, assuming, of course, that the lawyers and accountants could figure out a way to do it properly. It seemed they had.

  Claire examined the rest of the paperwork and discovered that the Institute did not intend to keep the money, but instead would distribute it to a university that was doing groundbreaking research in climate science. Claire smiled at that. It seemed appropriate, and the thought crossed her mind that Jamie would be pleased, too.

  Not that I care.

  Moving on, however, turned out to be harder than she had anticipated. What she was doing might better be described as getting by. It was just the same old life, day after day, without movement to it at all. Every morning she went to teach the same early classes that no one else had wanted, hoping the next semester would bring a better schedule. Each afternoon she rebuffed another tentative suggestion of a lunch date from Dennis, or one of the other two adjuncts who had suddenly and inexplicably decided to pursue her this spring. Where were they all a year ago, when online dating seemed like the only option? The prospect of their company held little excitement for her now.

  Claire tried to convince herself that there was no connection between her lack of enthusiasm and how she ended each day, lying in bed with her arms wrapped around her pillow for comfort, resolute in her efforts not to imagine the scent of sandalwood as she drifted into slumber. She hadn’t forgotten the promise she’d made to Theresa to take a risk on some as-yet-undetermined dream, but she had no idea what that dream might be or how she would fulfill it.

  One day in mid-April another envelope arrived, this time bearing stamps with the profile of a queen and the proper-looking crest of a very grateful university on the far side of the pond. When Claire saw what was inside, the seeds of a plan began to form, and for the first time in a very long time, a familiar old phrase flitted through her mind.

  It’s a sign.

  28

  Claire studied the complex of cookie-cutter apartments, their gray siding and white trim vaguely nautical, though technically the ocean was a few miles away. She felt her stomach tighten as she glanced down at the crumpled envelope in her hand. She studied the address again, just to be sure. She needn’t have bothered. By the time she looked up again, the door to a unit halfway down the row had opened and a tall woman with cropped blond hair emerged. Jamie.

  Claire's heart fluttered. She was followed closely by a woman of average height, and well above average figure, with a wild mane of deep purple and brilliant blue. A pang of jealousy stabbed Claire in the gut. Not only had Jamie managed to move on in the three months since she had shown up in Claire’s office unannounced, but her taste in women had gotten more daring, too.

  Or maybe not, Claire mused. It’s not like she knew anything about the hundreds of other women Jamie might have slept with before her. And it's not like it was any of her business who Jamie slept with now. But really, purple hair?

  Jamie went back inside, shutting the door behind her. Drawing a deep breath, Claire slammed her car door, wondering for at least the thousandth time if coming here was a mistake. But deep down, Claire knew she couldn’t leave Oregon without seeing Jamie one last time. To say goodbye. As her anger toward Jamie finally started to subside, guilt and doubt, and several other unpleasant sensations, had wriggled their way into the space left behind. Over time, her sense of Jamie’s betrayal shrank in its enormity, and her awareness of her own shortcomings grew.

  She couldn't leave without real closure.

  There was no denying that Jamie had lied, and lied big, but she’d only ever been motivated by the chance to spend more time with Claire. Was that really so bad? And looking back, it was such an obvious lie. The cowboy hat on the hall tree, Jamie’s khaki coveralls, the times Paul had slipped up and called her Jay, there had been so many easy clues. For her own part, Claire had been so insecure in her feelings that her attitude toward Jamie had been completely unyielding once she found out the truth. Is that any way to treat the person you love? And Claire had loved her. She could finally admit it.

&nbs
p; Not that it really mattered now. Claire was moving, and Jamie had moved on to someone new. At least the experience had taught her a valuable lesson. If she was ever lucky enough to fall in love again, Claire hoped that she would recognize it this time, no matter what shape or size or age or gender it came packaged in, and never let it go. She had Jamie to thank for that.

  She rapped her knuckles against the smooth steel of the door, which was hot to the touch in the mid-July sun. Then she held her breath and waited for Jamie to answer the door. Or see me through the peep-hole and decide not to. But the door swung open a moment later and Jamie stood in front of her, a puzzled expression on her face at the sight of Claire.

  “Hi,” Claire breathed.

  “Hi,” Jamie answered, then remained still for a moment as if trying to recall what should happen next. “Did you want to come in?” she finally thought to say.

  Claire gave her a tentative smile and stepped in out of the heat. She noted several boxes stacked in the entry. No doubt they belonged to the new girlfriend, Technicolor Barbie. Claire sniffed in distaste at the thought of this other woman moving in, but refrained from making a comment.

  Jamie motioned toward the living room. After assessing the Spartan seating options, Claire chose the battered futon. Jamie half-dragged, half-rolled an equally ancient chair from the far side of the room. It was round and deep, with a bamboo frame, in a style that had once been popular in college dorm rooms. Jamie deposited it next to the futon, and joined her. A memory flashed through Claire’s mind of her sister Theresa’s first apartment in college, which had been at least as run down as this place. After the beautiful house in Cape Ann, this wasn’t at all what Claire had expected.

  “It came furnished,” Jamie offered by way of explanation, as if Claire had spoken her thoughts out loud.

  “Oh,” Claire replied. “It’s nice,” she added for the sake of politeness.

  Jamie laughed. “It’s terrible,” she countered. “I won’t be sorry to see it go.”

  Claire wrinkled her brow. “You’re going somewhere?”

  “Yes, didn’t you notice the boxes as you came in?” Jamie answered, sounding surprised.

  “Oh, I guess not,” Claire fumbled, having noticed them quite plainly, but wondering what she’d missed.

  “My contract’s up at the end of the month so I’m moving on. There’s a new person at work who’s taking over the lease. Actually, you just missed her. She came by to drop off some things.”

  So that curvy thing with the day-glo hair is the new tenant and not the new girlfriend? Claire’s heart did a little dance inside her ribcage at the news. Not that it changes anything, she reprimanded herself.

  “So, what are you doing here, Claire?” Jamie asked, breaking the silence that had settled between them.

  The way she asked wasn’t accusatory, just honestly curious, and beneath that, a little sad. Claire had come prepared with a whole speech, but now that she was here, breathing in the scent of sandalwood soap each time she inhaled, she couldn’t remember a single word.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice catching in her throat. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated, reaching her hand out as she spoke and brushing the tips of her fingers absently across the faded upholstery of Jamie’s round chair.

  “No, Claire. It was my fault,” Jamie said sadly.

  “But I ran away. I didn't give you a chance to explain. I know it’s too late now, but I wish I hadn’t done that. I wish I’d been able to trust you enough to at least make an effort to understand why you did what you did.”

  “You know I never, ever meant for any of it to happen, right? I could never hurt you like that on purpose.”

  “I know.”

  “I should have told you about the mix up the minute I figured it out.”

  “And if you had, you never would have heard from me again.” Claire shrugged. “That's the honest truth.”

  “That doesn't make what I did okay.” Jamie clenched her eyes shut and sighed.

  “No. But in a way, I'm kind of glad you did.” Claire smiled wistfully. “I would have missed out on so much if I had never gotten to know you.”

  Jamie crossed her right arm over her chest until her hand reached the spot where Claire’s rested. She covered Claire’s hand in hers and squeezed it tightly. “Come and sit with me?”

  “In that?” Claire hesitated. “We might get stuck and never get out. Come sit next to me,” she suggested with a shy smile.

  “No.” Jamie was emphatic. “Sit with me here, in this chair, just like we did the first night we met.” She tugged gently on Claire’s hand.

  Relenting, Claire slid into the space beside Jamie, feeling herself relax and begin to melt against each nook and curve, erasing every empty space between them. Their limbs wrapped around each other with the familiarity of bodies that had been intimate in the past, but with the restraint that comes with knowing their reunion was fleeting. Claire filled her lungs with warm sandalwood and savored the sensation of Jamie’s breath tickling her scalp.

  “I’ve missed the smell of your shampoo,” Jamie confessed in a voice just above a whisper. “I almost bought some, but I couldn’t remember which brand it was.”

  Claire’s shoulders shook with a silent laugh. “I’ve dreamed about sandalwood soap every single night since Christmas.”

  They held each other in silence. “I’m leaving in a few days,” Jamie murmured. “Our timing couldn’t be worse.”

  “Nope,” Claire agreed with a heavy sigh.

  “I wish I could kiss you.”

  Claire raised her head from Jamie’s shoulder by just an inch and, banishing the last lingering doubt, turned until her lips brushed against Jamie’s neck, then traveled, with the same excruciating slowness with which Jamie had once tortured her, along the length of her jawline. At last their lips connected, gently, almost as if they had agreed in advance to take their time, to savor every moment of this last kiss.

  “I could still stay, maybe,” Jamie whispered without conviction.

  Claire retreated a few inches to better observe Jamie’s face. The tears that glistened on Jamie’s cheeks matched the dampness she sensed on her own. She shook her head. “It wouldn’t matter. I’m leaving, too.”

  “Somehow it feels like the universe is trying to keep us apart.”

  Deflated, Claire sank back into the warmth of Jamie’s embrace. “Where are you headed, anyway, back to Boston and the Marine Institute?”

  Jamie shook her head. “No, not this time. Actually, it’s a great opportunity as a researcher at a university. I probably never would have taken a chance on it if I had stayed at the Institute, so I guess I should be thanking you, in a way.”

  Claire groaned. “Just my luck. Not only are you leaving, but it’s my fault.”

  “Well, you’re leaving, too,” Jamie countered.

  “True,” she conceded. “And I have to admit, it’s something I’ve dreamed about forever. And I definitely wouldn’t have gotten the chance if it hadn’t been for you.”

  “Ouch. So it's my fault you're leaving, too. But, I’m happy for you. Tell me about it?”

  “I’ve been offered a position as a lecturer in the English department in a university near Norwich.”

  Jamie’s head swiveled and she looked at Claire in surprise. “You mean Norwich, Connecticut?”

  Claire shook her head. “No, England! It’s the craziest thing. Remember all that money that people donated for my admittedly ill-conceived polar rescue operation?”

  Jamie nodded. “It ended up being a lot, didn't it?”

  “Yeah, like a quarter of a million dollars. Obviously, I couldn't keep it. The Marine Institute helped me out and arranged for all the money to go to an environmental studies research program in Norwich, and overnight I became one of their biggest patrons. I got a handwritten thank you letter from the university president in the mail saying if there was anything he could do….” Claire shrugged. “Well, people say that, right, but in this case
I thought, why not just take a risk and ask if there’s an open position. And there was! I’m finally going to England!”

  Jamie's face was a study in disbelief. “So am I.”

  Claire’s eyes widened. “What? Where?”

  Jamie’s face broke into a grin, “Norwich. Back to the university where I did my graduate program.”

  “You’re serious?” Claire squeaked.

  “Completely. And I’m beginning to think I have you to thank for it in more ways than I knew. I’ll be heading up a new project and I was told they finally got the last infusion of funding they needed because of some big donation from the States.”

  “I can’t believe this,” Claire said in wonder. “We’re ending up in the same place. Again!”

  “Clearly it’s a sign.” Jamie said.

  “I thought that was supposed to be my line.” Claire laughed. “You’re a practical scientist. You can't really believe this is a sign.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I do,” Jamie replied, staring intently into her eyes.

  Claire could feel the heat rising inside herself under Jamie's gaze. She swallowed. “Maybe I do, too.” She smile devilishly. “But, I don’t know. Maybe we should test this theory. That’s what a scientist would do, right?”

  “How, exactly?”

  “Well, let me think.” Claire’s eyes twinkled. “Have you packed up your bedroom yet?”

  “The bedroom?” Jamie asked, raising her eyebrows. “No. Not yet.”

  “Definitely a sign,” she said, fixing Jamie with her best coquettish grin.

  “Oh, really?” Jamie teased. “Of what, exactly?”

  Claire leaned forward, and nipped her earlobe playfully with her teeth before she whispered, “It's a sign that I won’t be leaving here for quite a few hours.”