Collision Course

by C. P. Rowlands

  “How old is this property? Those are old trees.”

  “The house was constructed in 1915.” Brie pointed at a large thicket. “That was here when Niki’s dad bought the house. All we’ve added are the flowers on this side and this brick border. Even those flowers are old.” She gestured at the other side of the yard. Something darted at them and they both jumped a little. “Bats.” Brie giggled, grabbing for balance, the pressure of her fingers across Jordan’s back felt like warm electricity. The hair on Jordan’s arms rose, her heart squeezing unexpectedly as Brie turned into her. They stood quietly together in the scented air for a moment until Brie’s hand slid down her arm into her hand and they walked back to the deck.

  When she was satisfied that Brie was fine, Jordan left. She had waited until the lights in the front went off. What a crazy night, she thought, looking at the waning moon over the lake. Her mind skittered over the terrible story of Brie and her lover. And the writing. It should have been me. Not her.

  Brie was struggling, just as she had. The everyday stuff had made Jordan stumble constantly as she became responsible for everything. Her mind jerked to Pete’s funeral. The marching men and women. The Scottish bagpipes. She’d stood with Jenna in her arms, holding Tyler’s hand. The man had stood in front of them with the folded flag, but she had been holding the sleeping Jenna so he’d given it to Tyler. Tyler had clasped it to his body like it was his dad. The photo had been in the paper.

  “Shit,” she said. Tyler had slept with that flag until they moved to her mother’s house. She’d thrown the dress away that she’d worn that day, but Tyler and that flag were imprinted on the back of her eyelids. The only thing that would erase it was the bars and alcohol.

  The brake lights from the car ahead of her suddenly flashed bright red, and she adjusted her speed. She wondered if Brie had any of those moments.

  Brie had felt good, lying on top of her, and what had she said about her eyes? She felt warm, just thinking about Brie’s fingers in her hair, on her skin. “Stop it,” she whispered to herself and wiped her sweaty palms on her pants. That woman had just flat out turned her on.

  She sped up again. It didn’t make any difference that Niki was a woman or Pete was a man. It was the same for Brie and for her. They were alone now, no matter what they were before.

  Chapter Nine

  The next morning, sunlight slammed into Brie’s face and she instinctively covered her eyes. “Ow,” she said as the phone began to ring, slicing through her brain. Careful of her sore side, she reached for the phone but knocked it off the bedside table. “Shut up, dammit,” she threatened but it still rang. She slid to the floor in a tangle of covers.

  “Brie, are you there?” Emma’s energetic voice pounded her ears.

  “Shit,” Brie whispered, awed at the amount of pain ricocheting behind her eyes.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Too much wine, too little sex, a side full of knives—” Brie stopped abruptly, shocked that she’d just uttered those words to her baby sister. “Forget I said that.”

  “Like I’ve never said the same things to you. Or worse.”

  “I’m going to die.” Brie laid her head on her knees. “What time is it?”

  “A little after eight. Get yourself into the shower right now.” Emma gave her survival orders. “I’ll let myself in.”

  Later, they sat across from each other in the kitchen. Brie held a cup of something hot and steaming. “Not bad,” she said, tasting it tentatively. “Tastes like chicken soup and chestnuts.”

  “A doctor in California gave me the basic ingredients. The first time I drank it I totally forgot my hangover. I thought he’d poisoned me. It tasted like bitter stone. I’ve tinkered with it over the years to perfect it,” Emma said as she started the coffee. “You’ll be pain free and human in about fifteen minutes.” She placed a wicker basket on the table. “From Mom.”

  Brie parted the checkered cloth. There were five gorgeous red tomatoes and a note.

  “The last of the tomatoes.” Emma grinned. “You get all the garden goodies this year.”

  Brie fished the note out of the basket. There was only one word, “Eat,” printed in big, black block letters on a piece of stationery.

  “Mom speaks,” Brie said with a sigh. “They’re beautiful,” she said but quickly pushed the basket away. The thought of eating anything made her stomach lurch.

  “What’s up with the empty refrigerator?”

  “Going to give me the ‘time to get your act together’ speech?” Brie said grimly.

  “No,” Emma said. “I actually wanted to tell you that I ran into a friend of yours. Your famous skateboard assassin.”

  Brie looked up, surprised. “Jordan?”

  “One and the same. She wandered into my gallery. Hard to miss with that shiner.”

  “Looking to buy?”

  “No, she’s a carver.” Emma winked at her. “She’s cute.”

  Brie smiled a little. “You’re telling me?”

  “Talks well and has a good sense of humor.”

  “She’s married…with kids…but never talks about her husband. Damn, wouldn’t you know? The first woman since Niki to really make me look, and…married.” She took another drink. “I just found out that she was a carver last night.”

  “You looked? That’s something.” Emma squeezed her shoulder affectionately. “She’s married? Kids? She didn’t mention that. We only talked about carving and my new gallery.” Emma got up for coffee. “We can all use friends, Brie. I liked her smile and her voice. She has a brightness around her. Do you know what I mean?”

  “No. I don’t know what you mean. Tell me.”

  “Ha. You’re going to suck me into that crazy conversation you love to pull on me, accuse me of being all New Age whoo-woo. I’m not going there with you again.” She sat back down at the table. “See, you’ve got that oh please look on your face right now.”

  “Em…” Actually, she had been setting Emma up for that conversation but had lost the energy even before Emma was finished talking.

  “Great. You’re in one of your funks again.”

  “Funk? I’d hardly call this a funk.” Brie’s voice rose.

  Emma stared at her coffee, then took a deep breath. “Someone has to say this to you, Brie. I know you’re seeing a therapist, but you have to at least try to help yourself. You can’t hide in this house forever.”

  “I’m not hiding. I go to work. I’m getting ready for school. Classes start soon and I’ll be out every day.”

  “But people, Brie. People. You don’t go out with your friends. It looks like you don’t even go shopping. When was the last time you were at the grocery store? You haven’t even been down to my new gallery in a month.”

  “Is that what this is about? I haven’t been to your gallery?”

  “No,” Emma said. “This is about you starting to swim upstream again, meeting new people. You wouldn’t have met Jordan if you two hadn’t crashed in the park.”

  They stared at each other. “I had lunch with Mary Kramer the other day,” Brie said defensively.

  “Great. Your archenemy. You always end up fighting.” Emma reached for a napkin. “Wait, don’t tell me. You haven’t been…seeing her?”

  Brie groaned and finished her drink. “No, I need glasses.”

  Emma gave a little snort. “I’ve been thinking about something. What would you want, if you were killed and Niki was still alive?”

  “What?” she said in a cracked voice. Had the therapist ever brought this up? Nothing stirred in her memory. “What are you saying? You know it should have been me…she’s…” Brie stopped and fought tears. “Emma, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Maybe, and I don’t have the answer. Nor do I want one from you right now.” Emma took her coffee cup to the sink. “But I’m right and you know it. Get your life back, Brie.” She smiled a little bit. “Honey, I love you, but I can’t stand to see you become part of the walls in this
house. Please? I’ll take you anywhere. How about a movie? Want to go clubbing? You name it and I’ll be here. Just call me.” She moved toward the door. “Go back to bed. You’ll feel like the sun coming up when you wake up.”

  After Emma left, Brie went back to her bedroom. She opened the closet door where Niki’s clothes still hung and stood there, staring at them. Thank God Emma hadn’t nagged her about the clothes. She usually did. She looked at her unmade bed, the covers still on the floor, and picked up a pillow and blanket, tossed them on the closet floor. She dropped carefully to her hands and knees and crawled inside. Brie closed the door and curled up in the darkness. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. This little spot still carried a thready scent of Niki. This much was still theirs.

  *

  Brie thought about what Emma had said all the way to Jordan’s later in the afternoon. Her side hurt from sleeping on the closet floor. What would Emma say about sleeping in the closet? Or her therapist? An enormous house was visible in the woods on the right just after the road curved, and she looked at the number on the mailbox. She stopped the car and checked the address scribbled on a piece of paper. There was another mailbox down the road. She drove up the long driveway and wondered about meeting Jordan’s husband.

  “Holy bat cave,” she said, looking at the huge structure in the woods.

  A little blond girl ran down the sidewalk, waving, and Brie smiled. What a cutie.

  Brie got out of her car. “Hello,” she said and bent to eye level with the child.

  The little girl was shy but held her hand out. “I’m Jenna Catherine, but you should call me Jen,” she said.

  “I’m Brieanna Carmel, but you should call me Brie,” she said, taking the small hand. They shook solemnly.

  “Mommy says to bring you to the kitchen.” Jenna tugged on Brie’s hand and they began the long, winding walk up to the house.

  “Is this big house all yours?” Brie asked, shifting the basket of tomatoes to her other arm.

  “No, Grammie lives in the other half. We used to live in another house, over there”—she pointed vaguely to the south—“but now we live here because…” She frowned up at Brie.

  “That’s okay, I was just wondering.” Brie took her hand again as they walked along. Jenna led her into an enormous kitchen and Brie’s mouth immediately watered. Was that grilled chicken she smelled?

  Jordan straightened up from behind a cooking island.

  “Your daughter—this is your daughter?—took very good care of me,” Brie said and grinned. “My heavens, Jordan, this house is palatial.”

  “It was Mom and Dad’s and when he died and my brothers left, it was just too big for my mother. Uncle John redid this side for us. I could never afford anything like this.” Jordan motioned at a pitcher. “There’s iced tea. Pour yourself a glass while I check the chicken outside. Roam around if you want. Tyler’s in his room, that’s my oldest.”

  “I set the table,” Jenna said, shy again.

  “You did a wonderful job.” Brie smiled, looking at the carefully placed blue cloth napkins and light blue plates. Bright flowers finished the table and Brie placed the basket of tomatoes beside them.

  “I’ve never set a table before,” Jenna confessed, eyes down.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen it done better.”

  “Really?” Jenna’s eyes sparkled.

  “Absolutely,” Brie said. “Do you want to show me around while your mommy is outside?”

  Jenna scampered off the chair, running ahead with little leaps as she went. “Here, Brie, here,” she said. The colorful room was obviously hers. Toys were stacked in a large wooden cupboard in the shape of a teddy bear. “Mommy made this for me,” she said proudly, pointing.

  “Your mommy is quite a carpenter,” Brie said looking at the expertly rounded corners and tightly fitted shelves. She certainly was.

  “Here’s your picture, on my wall.” Jenna pointed at a small painting of a blond woman sitting on a half-moon, amid bright stars and a dark night sky.

  “We have the same color hair, that’s true.” Brie had been about to joke but stopped when she saw the sincerity in Jenna’s eyes. She smiled instead. A noise made her turn. Jordan leaned against the doorway. The olive green halter dress and gold earrings vibrated against her tan skin. The dress emphasized a figure that made Brie quickly avert her eyes.

  “I had to take my mother shopping today,” Jordan said. They locked eyes for a moment. “She’s about to go to Ireland.” She looked around the room. “Jenna, I want you to spend a few minutes before dinner and pick this room up a bit.” She turned back to Brie. “Would you like to do the two-bit tour? I’ve got a few minutes with the chicken. Did you bring those gorgeous tomatoes?”

  “The last from my mother’s garden,” Brie said and followed Jordan down the hallway.

  “They look delicious.” Jordan began to describe how her uncle had renovated the house.

  “He did a beautiful job,” Brie said, admiring the rooms and the decor. The house felt spacious but comfortable.

  Jordan followed Brie into her bedroom and leaned against the door. “This house is not as unique as yours. I swear, Brie, I’ve never seen that quality of workmanship. In fact, the entire house is one-of-a-kind. You and Niki did a superb job.”

  Brie sat on the built-in window seat. “I don’t have one of these,” she said and smiled. “I like this touch.” Brie saw a photo beside the bed. A tall, nice-looking man in a Milwaukee Fire Department uniform smiled at the photographer. She looked up with a question on her face.

  “Pete,” Jordan said. She checked the hall and shut the door.

  Brie nodded, waiting for more. Jordan sat on the bed.

  “Brie, I haven’t been entirely honest with you,” Jordan said. “Pete was my husband, the children’s father. He was a fireman, as you can see. He was killed in that fire at Haben, downtown, five years ago. Like you, I have lost a partner.”

  Brie sank to the other side of the bed, her heart beating hard. “That’s terrible.” She stopped when she heard her voice shake. “I’m sorry. Are the children all right? Are you all right?”

  “It’s been five years. I’ve had a lot more time than you to deal with this.” Jordan’s face was composed but she gripped her hands. Brie understood exactly what it cost to speak those words.

  “Mommy?” Jenna said and knocked on the door.

  “Come on, Brie.” Jordan got up and opened the door, smiling at Jenna. “Let me show you the office. You’ll enjoy that, I guarantee you.” They walked down the hall and Brie followed, her heart still beating hard. She had been totally unprepared for that information.

  “Look at the books,” Brie said, moving to the shelves in Jordan’s office, reading titles. “Someone loves history…and this wood is perfect. Is this your work?” Her body still trembled. She concentrated on the titles of the books to calm herself.

  “No, Uncle John did this. Everything I’ve learned has been from him. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have time anymore. The company has grown so fast.” She looked toward the kitchen. “I think we could probably eat. How about it? Hungry?”

  Brie nodded.

  “I know you,” Tyler said as he slid into his seat at the table. “You’re the woman Mom creamed at the park.”

  Jordan’s head slumped. “Ty!”

  Brie could not stop herself from grinning at Jordan’s body language.

  “Face it, Mom, you’re just not as good as I am,” Ty said and when he taunted her, Brie could see how much he looked like his mother. Even their gestures were similar. Jenna looked like the man in the photo.

  “You’re an athlete?” Brie asked him. “How about your mother?”

  “Best shortstop in the league,” Tyler said. “Her team won the city championship this year. She’s the MVP.” His eyes shone.

  Jordan’s face was a little flushed. “It’s just something I enjoy.” Brie narrowed her eyes a bit. Jordan had teased her last night and Brie was now on a fact-fi
nding mission. She smiled sweetly at him.

  “What else does your mommy do?” she asked.

  “Don’t answer that, Ty.”

  He grinned proudly. “She was a champion soccer player in college, has all sorts of trophies in the den. Want to see them?”

  “No, we’re eating,” Jordan said with a warning look at Brie, who just smiled and ignored her.

  “I’d love for you to show me all those trophies after dinner. What do you like to do, Ty?” she asked, giving him some attention.

  He immediately began talking about baseball, football, even soccer, and then switched to video games, bragging that his mother couldn’t beat him.

  “That’s not fair. You have more time to practice.” Jordan actually whined.

  Brie raised an eyebrow at her.

  “You’re the first person I’ve had over. The kids are pretty excited,” Jordan said just as the phone rang and she escaped to answer it.

  Jordan returned a few minutes later, her shoulders tense. “That was Mom. One of the blouses that we bought today doesn’t fit right and she’s on her way over.”

  A tall, attractive woman came into the kitchen minutes later. Salt and pepper shone in hair that was the same deep brown and gold as Jordan’s.

  After the introductions, Charlotte immediately picked up one of the big red tomatoes, turning it in her hand. “How beautiful, Brieanna,” she said.

  Jordan reached for a plate in the cupboard and took a tomato from the basket. She began to slice it, arranging thin red circles on the plate. Charlotte held up the bag she was carrying.

  “It just doesn’t fit. Will you take it back on your way home from work?”

  Brie compared the two women. Jordan looked a great deal like her mother and Brie would have bet that Charlotte had the same figure when she’d been Jordan’s age.