Jamie pulled her close, pressing their bodies together. “I don’t want you to leave at all. Ever.”
“I don't know about that. The new tenant's going to want her apartment, eventually.” Claire giggled. “But I’m not going anywhere until we’ve made love at least a dozen times,” she concluded matter-of-factly.
Jamie arched her eyebrow. “A dozen?”
Claire nodded solemnly. “At least,” she confirmed. “I mean, if we're testing a theory, we should be thorough.”
“Very scientific of you.” Jamie shimmied to free herself from the chair's deep recesses, then grasped Claire by both hands and tugged. “Come on, we’ve got to get you out of this chair. I’ve got a plane to catch, after all.”
“I thought you said you didn’t leave for another three days.”
“Right. Well, thorough research takes time.” Jamie quipped.
“Jamie,” Claire’s tone was suddenly serious.
Jamie froze and turned in place, still clasping the hand she’d been using to drag Claire down the hallway to her room.
“We need to get something straight right now,” she continued. “When we get to England, our apartment is absolutely not going to have one of those horrible round chairs,” Claire finished with a grin.
Jamie laughed. “Our apartment?”
Claire nodded, looking expectantly into Jamie’s emerald eyes. Her stomach fluttered. Would Jamie think it was too soon to move in together?
“Our apartment will never have one of those chairs,” Jamie assured her with an equally wide grin.
“Well, I’m glad we’re agreed on that,” Claire replied.
“Completely in agreement,” Jamie confirmed. “Now, would you like to check out the duvet I had in mind? It happens to be on my bed.”
Claire’s head tilted back with a laugh. “I’m dying to! Lead the way.”
She threw her arms around Jamie’s neck and covered her mouth hungrily with her own. Not pausing to break the kiss, Jamie lifted Claire’s feet off the floor and carried her the last few feet until they tumbled together onto the bed.
29
“Hey, Claire?” Jamie balanced a package against her hip as she shook the raindrops off her umbrella and put it in the stand by the door. “It looks like your sister sent another box for you.”
Jamie could hear Claire typing in dining nook, where half the table had been turned into a makeshift desk. The apartment they’d been assigned through the faculty housing department was far from ideal, but based on past experience, both she and Claire had been hesitant at first to commit to a more permanent housing arrangement. Just in case. They had been through so much that they had to be cautious. But from the moment Jamie had met Claire had taken their first walk, arm in arm, through the winding cobblestone streets, open air markets, and picturesque Norman churches of their new home, neither could imagine ever wanting to go anywhere else. Or be with anyone else.
Jamie shut the front door behind her and took in the very utilitarian surroundings of their current dwelling. She couldn’t help but be warmed by the little touches Claire had added to brighten it up—Union Jack throw pillows, a pair of red telephone booth bookends, a Mind the Gap sign in a frame on the wall. No matter how many times Jamie hinted that no self-respecting English person actually put things like this in their apartments, Claire would not be swayed. Being here, together, was like a dream, she had explained, and sometimes she needed to wake up and see these things around her just so she could actually believe it was real.
It wasn’t just that she needed kitschy tourist souvenirs to convince her she was in England. Claire had also covered every flat surface in the apartment with framed photos of the two of them, to remind her that that was real, too. Jamie found it so endearing that she was determined to dry her hands on the Keep Calm and Carry On hand towels in the bathroom without uttering a single negative word. To be honest, faculty housing was only marginally better than the undergraduate dorms, so drab that pretty much any effort made an improvement. Jamie suspected that Claire would be a bit more discerning once they had a place to live that was more in keeping with their style.
She touched her fingertips to the business card in her pocket with a secretive smile, recalling the old cottage they had discovered on a recent weekend boating trip along the river Wensum. She didn’t want Claire to know yet, but she had made a few inquiries and discovered that it was both available and manageable on their budget if they could do some of the fix-up work themselves.
It was a big step. Buying property ranked right up there with marriage on the list of major life commitments. They’d known each other for more than a year, and Jamie had known from the beginning that she was in love with Claire, but they hadn't really been together very long.
Jamie would wait as long as was necessary, even pass up the little cottage and start looking again later if that’s what was required. Just the memory of Claire shaking hands with the president of the university as she introduced Jamie as her girlfriend, her voice confident and steady, could sustain her for months. Maybe years. Jamie wrinkled her nose at the pungent scent of takeaway curry that had invaded their space from a neighboring flat. On second thought, let’s hope it isn’t years.
“Is that the box?” Claire asked excitedly as Jamie set it down on one the table’s last remaining free spaces.
Jamie nodded. “Early Christmas present from Theresa?”
“No, just a few things I asked her to send when she had a chance.” She sliced through the packaging tape with a pair of scissors and pried the cardboard flaps apart.
Jamie peered in, perplexed, at what appeared to be an entire box filled with the world’s largest collection of refrigerator magnets. “You asked for these?”
“Of course,” Claire retorted, shooting Jamie a look that warned her to criticize at her own peril. “Although, the refrigerator is so much smaller than I’m used to, I don’t think they’ll all fit. I might have to rotate them seasonally.”
“Naturally. Doesn’t everyone do that with their magnet collections?” Jamie teased. “Is that all she sent?”
“No,” Claire said, digging deeper into the box. “She sent three jars of peanut butter, too.”
“The big bulk-size ones? Yes!” Jamie pumped her fist in a sign of victory when Claire nodded. “Take that, Sainsbury’s. At least the grocery stores sell the stuff now, which is more than they did a decade ago. But the jars are tiny and cost twice as much as they should. She really sent three?”
“Yeah. Probably softening the blow of all these magnets. You and Theresa seem to have similar opinions on my collection.”
“I think they’re adorable,” Jamie assured her, bending quickly to give her a peck on the lips. “Just maybe not all on display at once, okay?”
“Okay,” Claire agreed, pulling Jamie closer for a proper kiss this time. When she finally released her, she gathered the magnets back into the box, then carried the box to the kitchen.
“Mind if I use the laptop? I told Paul I’d be home for a video chat this evening.”
“Go ahead,” Claire shouted from the next room.
As Jamie settled into the dining room chair, the corner of the business card in her front pocket poked into her upper thigh. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach at the thought of the cottage. It’s perfect for us. She wanted so badly to tell Claire what she had discovered, but was it too soon? Jamie had ruined more than her fair share of relationships by taking things too quickly. She knew Claire loved her, but would the prospect of buying a house together, in a foreign country no less, be too much? After all they’d been through, the thought of losing Claire now was more than she could bear. Better to take it slow.
Jamie flipped open the laptop and the screen hummed to life. The web browser was still open to the last place Claire had been, and when Jamie saw what it was, she froze. Is this what I think it is? Her eyes scanned the page again, and she chuckled a little under her breath. You’ve got to be kidding me. For two weeks Jamie had been carr
ying that estate agent’s card around, trying to work up the nerve to broach the topic of getting a house together, and meanwhile Claire was spending her free time looking at this?
“Claire?” Jamie called in as calm a voice as she could manage. “Can you come here a minute?”
Claire poked her head into the room, her eyes widening at the sight of the computer screen. “Don’t worry, it’s not what it looks like,” she said hurriedly. “I can explain.”
“Okay,” Jamie mused, “so I guess it’s not that you’ve been browsing for baby daddies on a site that promises to be ‘Great Britain’s premier source for sperm’?”
“No. Um, I mean, yes. I guess I have,” Claire stammered. “But it’s just an idea. Just research for, um, later. Oh God, you’re completely freaked out by this, aren’t you? This is why I hadn't mentioned it,” she said with a sigh.
Jamie put her hand to her mouth, trying to stifle a laugh. “No, not at all. Okay, maybe a little freaked out. I mean, a baby, Claire? That’s—”
“A huge commitment, I know. And you want to take things slowly. I don't expect you to be ready to think about it. That’s why I wasn’t even going to bring it up yet.” Claire paused to catch her breath.
“You want a baby?”
Claire nodded. “I know it’s not something we could do right now,” Claire assured her. “But eventually, well…yes. And then I remembered a conversation I had with this woman in the park about it and—”
“I’m sorry,” Jamie interrupted, “but you discussed sperm donation with a stranger in the park? What kind of park was this?”
“You really want to know?” Claire answered, pressing her lips together nervously. “It was that day last year when we took Paul’s nieces to the park. That was the day.”
“The day for what?” Jamie asked, puzzled. “Other than inappropriate small talk with strangers.”
“It was the day that I first admitted to myself that there was a possibility that I could fall in love with you. That the world might not end after all if it turned out that I wanted to be with you. And that I could maybe still have the life I had dreamed of. A house, kids. But I wasn’t sure if that's you wanted, so I've been a little afraid to mention it.”
Jamie started to laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“You were afraid to ask me about the future? Claire, after everything we've been through this past year, I’ve been completely terrified to ask you.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the business card, sliding it across the table to Claire. “I’ve had that card for two weeks,” she explained. “I’ve been carrying it around, trying to think of a way to bring it up without you thinking I was rushing things. I didn’t want to scare you off.”
“It’s a realtor’s card,” Claire observed.
“It is. It’s for the agent who’s representing that cottage we passed, the yellow one in that little village near the river. I dropped in and asked about it as soon as we got back from our trip.”
“You did?” Claire asked, looking nervous. “And? Did you get to go inside? What did you find out?”
“We could do it. I did go in and it needs a lot of work, but most of it we know how to do. The price is right. We might even be able to lease it first if we need more time to think about it.”
“No.” Claire was emphatic.
“No?” Jamie’s shoulders slumped, disappointed.
“No, not no,” Claire hastened to explain. “I mean, no, we don’t need a lease. If we can really do it, let’s just do it!”
Jamie gave Claire’s waist a tug and pulled her onto her lap. “You’re sure?”
Claire nuzzled her lips against Jamie’s neck, in that sensitive spot just below her ear that made Jamie’s body tingle all the way to her toes. “I’m absolutely positive,” she whispered. “I want us to buy a house, and fix it up, and then maybe we can decorate one of the rooms like we did for the girls in Cape Ann, and—”
“What about getting married?” Jamie asked suspiciously.
“Well, I…um, I mean, I sort of assumed, but I don’t want to make you feel pressured or rushed or…”
“No, no. I was just…checking. And I suppose you’d want a ring, or something…”
Claire sat up in Jamie’s arms, flashing a grin from ear to ear.
“Uh huh. Like I said, I figured I should check. A girl needs to know what the expectations are. So,” Jamie said after a moment, “I guess you should tell me more about this website you’ve been looking at. Although I’m not so certain I trust you. The last time you went looking for someone on the Internet, you couldn’t even manage to get the gender right…”
“Oh, yeah? I think I got it figured out.” Claire touched her lips to Jamie’s in a gentle kiss. “You'd better trust me, because I trust you.”
“You do?” Nervousness lingered. “You're sure that after everything, you really do?”
“I truly do. So how about I'll tell you more about that website after you tell me everything about your visit with the estate agent.” Claire settled back into Jamie’s lap, snuggling in like she was about to hear her favorite bedtime story.
“Okay, so, it’s a lot bigger inside than it looks, and there’s a bow window with a window seat in the front room that would be perfect for a reading nook.” The joy that filled Jamie at that moment colored every description with a rosy glow. “And the woodwork! All original.”
“Amazing. Could we get a dog?” Claire asked dreamily.
“Sure, I suppose, if that’s what you want…or—”
“A cat.” They said it at the same time, then laughed.
“Absolutely, a cat,” Claire concluded. “Now, tell me more about our cottage.”
They sat together for hours that night, listening to the soft patter of English rain against the window while they shared their dreams for the future. They were thousands of miles and an ocean away from where they had started. What lay ahead was not exactly what either of them had expected it to be just a year before, but somehow they trusted that wherever they ended up would be perfect, now that they would arrive there together.
THE END
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Coming Spring 2016
When Cecily Parker volunteers backstage at the Oakmont Theater, the only thing she wants is a few hours of relief from the doldrums of her upper class suburban existence. The last thing she expects is to be reunited with the only person she ever truly loved, a woman she left behind almost twenty years years ago.
Rorie Mulloy has built a career as an award winning production designer in Hollywood, but her personal life is anything but a success. When she agrees to design the sets for a community theater production of A Streetcar Named Desire in Connecticut, she has no idea that the woman who broke her heart and ruined her for love will be assigned to her crew.
As the sparks are rekindled between them, these star-crossed lovers just might have a second chance at love. But only if they can survive the comic cast of characters determined to keep them from their happily ever after.
Telling Lies Online Page 22