by Liz McMullen
Desiree laughed. “Oh yeah, since when?”
“The first time you looked into my eyes with welcome.” Rowan ran her hands through Desiree’s hair until she was able to hold the overactive curls in one hand. “When you finally saw me.”
Desiree sobered. “I wish I saw you sooner.”
Rowan’s smile was sincere. Her vulnerability was striking. “You saw me when you were ready.” Rowan pressed her lips briefly to Desiree’s. “Thank you.”
“Thank you?” Desiree slid off Rowan’s body to lie beside her. Rowan turned so they were face-to-face.
“Once I learned what was behind your resistance, it stopped hurting.”
Desiree’s heart hurt. She hated that she’d made Rowan feel unwelcome. “I’m sorry.”
“I accept on one condition.”
“What’s the condition this time?” Desiree leaned on her elbow and made her best serious face.
“That you will stop apologizing for the way we met.” When Desiree tried to look away, Rowan gently guided her back, so they were once again eye to eye. “What is important is how you treat me from this point forward. If you need time or space, just tell me and I’ll give it to you.”
“It can’t be that easy.”
“That’s up to you, Desiree, but now I have more serious things to discuss with you.”
Desiree wanted to shrink away but fought it. Rowan’s expression turned impossibly naughty. “How would you like me to love you?”
“Oh my!” Desiree said in shock as she found herself square on her back.
“Well?”
“Lady’s choice.”
Rowan’s laugh was deep and throaty, but it did not take her long to claim her prize.
Chapter Thirty-nine
“Oh dear God, I want to die.” Desiree’s shock was comical.
“What did my mother say?” Rowan took the note Desiree had been reading. It was just past nine in the morning, and they had finally given in to their need for sustenance.
Dear Rowan,
There is some stew in the fridge and fresh bread in the oven. I wrapped it in a cloth, just in case you don’t let that girl out of bed long enough to eat tonight. I left out some cooking chocolate and a can of condensed milk. You be sure to give her a proper cup of hot chocolate for her efforts. I whipped some fresh cream topping. It’s in the Tupperware next to the stew. Don’t you dare use that in your bed. I just put down fresh linens and real fresh cream will leave a stain.
The smelling salts are next to the fainting couch, along with pearls if she’s that kind of girl. I can imagine she’s turned an impressive shade of red, should she have managed to remain conscious while reading my letter.
We’re going to church at nine. I won’t hold my breath or a place for you next to me in the pew. I do, however, expect you to come to brunch at eleven-thirty sharp. Mason says he’s preparing something special in his private apartment. I told him to knock off the Downton Abbey crap, but he just laughed. I like him.
Let the girl go home and change, and give her some privacy. Tell her that Suzie will need a ride offa her, so not to be late. Jodeci said she would knock very loud when she gets home in the morning, just to be sure you are decent.
Love you. I’ll go to confession on your behalf. You know I’m prone to exaggeration, so be sure to have fun for the pastor’s certain heart attack. I have Ma’s rosary at the ready. See you at eleven-thirty, but Pappy will start eating, with or without you.
Rowan was laughing so hard, she could barely read the last few paragraphs through her tears.
Desiree, on the other hand, was less amused. “I didn’t just read what I thought I read.”
Rowan calmed down a bit and wiped away her tears. “It feels good to laugh, but no not at your expense.” She released the last of her mirth on a sigh. “Mama’s, um, colorful. It’s an Irish thing.”
The strains of a haunting classical song came from the confines of Desiree’s purse. “Oh, that’s my mother.”
“Léo Delibes’s ‘Flower Duet’?” Rowan asked incredulously. “From The Hunger?”
Desiree laughed as she fished out her phone. “The one and only. I’ll explain later.” Rowan stared at her. She probably thought Desiree was kidnapped by aliens. The last time Rosalie called, it brought their first intimacy to an abrupt, unwelcome halt.
“Bonjour, Maman. Ça va?”
Rowan raised her eyebrows so dramatically, they nearly merged with her hairline.
“I am well child. Your French is so beautifully spoken, it is a pleasure to be greeted in such a manner.” Her mother sounded younger, far less weary than the last time they spoke. “I have been invited to brunch by the Knight family, but I told them I couldn’t accept without speaking to you first.”
“Oh, Maman.” Desiree’s voice was soft. Her mother had never shown her this level of consideration. It was disarming in the most pleasant way. “I would love for you to attend, and thank you for asking me first. Oh,” she paused, “hold a moment.”
She shouldn’t have said yes without asking Rowan. Rosalie was terrible to her the last time they spoke. Desiree put her cell on mute. “It seems that we are meant to be one happy family. Your mother has invited mine to brunch.”
“As I live and breathe,” Rowan whispered in an exaggerated Southern accent.
“It’s up to you. She wasn’t very nice to you.”
Rowan drew her into a hug and kissed her on the nose. “If your mother has been able to change your mind about her, I am willing to trust your judgment.”
Desiree mouthed thank you as she took her phone off mute. “Rowan and I would be happy to have brunch with you.”
“Brave girl,” Rosalie echoed the compliment from their earlier conversation. “You’ve made me very proud, ma petite ange.”
“Maman”—Desiree was unable to fight back the sob—“you’ve made me proud too.”
“Don’t cry, little one. There is too much to celebrate,” Rosalie said soothingly. “Bisou, ange.”
“Bisou.” Desiree held onto the phone long after her mother had signed off.
Rowan hugged her from behind. “A lot has happened since we last met.”
Desiree turned in the circle of her arms. “More than you can imagine.”
Chapter Forty
Porter Hall
“You are glowing,” Suzie said accusingly. Her laughter was like bubbles in newly opened champagne.
Desiree’s response was muffled by the closet door. “Am not.” She didn’t help her case when she giggled like a three-year-old.
“Holy shit, she giggles…this is so going on as an overheard on Facebook.”
Desiree was out of the closet like a shot in a bra and panties, her usual modesty completely out the window as she lunged for the imaginary phone. “Oh, you bitch!”
Suzie’s laugh was deep and hearty. She wiped away her tears and said through gasped breaths, “You should have seen your face.” She gripped her stomach. “Nice knockers by the way.”
Desiree’s eyes bugged out and she covered what she could. “Suzie!”
“What? I never get to see your tits. You’re always hiding in the closet or changing in a bathroom stall.” Suzie winked. “Seriously, you’ve got a nice pair on you. Never thought you would have had a shot at those after seeing your mother’s itty bitties.”
“You’re terrible!” Desiree went back into her closet and did something she had never voluntarily done in her life—picked an outfit that would please her mother. She chose a demure mauve sheath dress, with a subtle pink-rose jacket—the kind that has unusable pockets.
What Desiree said next was another first. “Suzie, can you help me with my hair and makeup?”
Suzie squealed like a sorority sister. It made Desiree feel good to finally let her femmetastic roommate have her way with her. “The works. Pin up my hair and think about makeup my mother would approve of.”
Suzie put the back of her hand against Desiree’s forehead. “You don’t feel warm, but y
ou must be coming down with something.”
“Ha ha.” Desiree took her friend’s hand and waited until she had Suzie’s full attention. “Mother shared something intensely private with me. She didn’t have to.” Desiree’s heart ached for the decisions her mother made out of a twisted sense of obligation. “But that’s not all. Suzie, she called and asked permission to attend brunch.”
“She what?”
Desiree had no idea Suzie’s voice could go that high. She rubbed her abused ear. “Yes. Rowan’s mom and Mason had both invited her, but she said she would have to talk to me before accepting.”
Suzie paused but only briefly. She gestured to her desk. “Sit there. You’re too tall for me to work my magic with you standing up.”
Desiree slipped on a pair of boxers for modesty’s sake, then did as she was told. Suzie opened her makeup locker with a surgeon’s economy of motion. There was a lot fussing, blending, blotting, and just a “smidge” of shimmer.
Once Suzie was happy with Desiree’s makeup, she turned her focus to her friend’s hair. “Now, the key is to do classy without that awful overdone I’m-going-to-prom look.” After some serious staring, hemming, and hawing, Suzie finally made her choice.
“I’m going to do a loose French twist. That way you can see the wave of your hair rather than the smooth shellacked look they inflict at Bargain Cuts.”
Desiree braced herself for clouds of hairspray and was happy when there was very little to deal with.
“I’ll just leave a few short curls loose at your hairline and the base of your neck, and voilà!”
Desiree hardly recognized herself. “I look pretty,” she exclaimed without an ounce of sarcasm.
“I’d like to think it’s the magic I worked, but there is only one thing to thank for that glow in your eyes.”
“Lack of sleep?”
Suzie placed her hands on Desiree’s shoulders. “Happiness, it looks good on you.”
“Oh.”
“Yes oh. Now leave me be. I have to whip out my classy look and I don’t have much time.”
Desiree borrowed some of Suzie’s perfume, opened the only pair of nylons she had, and finished dressing. She even agreed to wear a pair of modest heels. “Rowan won’t even recognize me.”
“Honestly, I think she will be the only one in the room who does.”
Desiree beamed. “She loves me.”
“’Bout time.”
Chapter Forty-one
Mason Archer’s Apartment
The Orchard Inn
“Oh ma coeur, tu es très jolie,” Rosalie exclaimed, holding her daughter at arm’s length, her delight plain. “You’ve grown into such a beautiful woman.”
Desiree was too stunned by her mother’s compliments to reply in French. “Thank you, Maman. You look lovely.”
And Rosalie did. She was wearing cream-colored brushed silk pants with an azure cashmere sweater. Her diamond earrings were exquisite yet understated, as was everything about her. To outsiders, her mother would appear chic and stylish, but Desiree knew this was her mother’s attempt at looking understated. It was her way of showing respect.
Desiree kissed her mother on both cheeks, as near a kiss both could get without leaving lipstick marks. It was more intimate than the air kisses her mother had offered in the past. “Merci,” Desiree whispered.
Rosalie’s smile was serene; it even reached her lovely blue eyes.
“Wow,” Jodeci murmured as she entered the room at Rowan’s side. “Who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?”
Desiree turned so that only Suzie could see her mouth, my girlfriend?
It was Suzie’s turn to beam.
She was about to reply with a sweet zinger until she saw Rowan. Desiree’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. Rowan was absolutely dashing in a dark suit with cobalt-blue silk tie. Give her a silk top hat and a cane and she could be mistaken for a 1930s movie star.
Rowan was briefly speechless as well, but recovered faster. “Tu es si belle, ça me coupe le souffle.”
Rosalie walked to Rowan’s side and put her hand in the crook of Rowan’s elbow. “What a handsome, charming woman you are. You’ve rendered my daughter speechless. In other circumstances, I would applaud you.” Rosalie tapped Rowan’s shoulder gently before drawing away. “But at the moment, I will give you your privacy.”
Desiree was rooted to the spot. The rest of the company moved to the formal dining room, leaving both women alone. The only sound in the sitting room was the gentle clicking of the grandfather clock.
Rowan seemed to float in slow motion, a dream walking into Desiree’s life. “Rowan, I had no idea.”
“A woman needs her secrets.” Rowan laid a courtly kiss on Desiree’s left hand.
“Wow.” Desiree had absolutely no idea what to say, so she repeated herself. “Wow.”
“I never imagined you dressing this way. Your mother was so pleased.”
Desiree blushed, but she was proud of her choices. “She asked my permission. You have no idea what it had to take for her to humble herself that way.”
“Actually, I do.”
“For once in my life, it felt good to make her happy.”
Rowan drew Desiree into her arms yet maintained a respectable distance. “You’re so damned pretty, I’m afraid to touch you.”
“Keep your hands off that pretty young girl. You’re not too old for me to bend over my knee.”
“Pappy, you sure know how to make an entrance.” Rowan stepped aside and welcomed her grandfather into the room.
The older Irish gentleman looked handsome in his simple brown suit and tie. His Sunday best, Desiree thought. “Oh, she is a pretty lass. Too good for you, I might add, but God has blessed you with many things you’ve yet to earn.” Pappy winked at Rowan. “I’m teasing of course. The name’s Michael McKay. I’m this young rascal’s grandfather.”
Desiree smiled and offered her hand in greeting, which the older man ignored, pulling her into a brief hug instead. “Welcome to the family.”
Desiree smiled so big it nearly hurt her face. “Pleased to meet you.”
“The good Lord done taken an angel from the sky,” Maggie Knight complimented her with complete sincerity.
“Ma,” Rowan halfheartedly complained. She had taken her place at Desiree’s side but gave her enough space to stand on her own.
“Maggie, looks like our master plan worked,” Desiree said.
“Master plan—” Rowan started.
“Don’t you be getting your knickers in a twist. Desiree was calling on you, but you were feeling poorly.” Maggie’s eyes dimmed. She was no longer teasing. “She brought you back to me, so wedding ring or not, Desiree is now my daughter.”
Desiree was so taken aback, her eyes were moist.
“Don’t worry, I thought waterproof was the way to go. Too many different scenarios could end in tears, so like a Boy Scout, I’m always prepared,” Suzie said, breaking the intense moment as she offered her friend a tissue.
“Thanks.” Desiree gently blotted under her lashes, so she wouldn’t smudge her foundation.
A man in the doorway cleared his throat. It was Mason Archer. His smile was warm and genuine. “You’ve filled my home with family. Let me show my gratitude with a simple meal and good company.” On cue, everyone made their way to the dining room, all except Rowan and Desiree.
“What a roller coaster. I might just need that fainting couch,” Desiree said coyly, toying with the simple string of pearls she was wearing.
“Be sure to find one big enough for the two of us.” Rowan looked just as shell-shocked. “I’ve never—”
“Me neither. We’ll get it sorted out eventually.”
“Yeah?” Rowan asked hopefully.
“You’re stuck with me now. Your mother said so.”
“You promise?” Rowan whispered.
“I do.”
About the Author
Liz is an author, publisher, documentarian, and talk show ho
st. You can find her shows on YouTube and her website: www.thelizmcmullenshow.com. Her debut novel, If I Die Before I Wake, was a Rainbow Award Finalist. She co-authored Finding Home, a paranormal novel where the foster kids have magical gifts. Finding Home is Goldie Finalist for Young Adult Fiction.
Liz McMullen graduated from Mount Holyoke College with a degree in Political Science and has a Master’s degree in Education. She is an active member of the GCLS Education Program and has a passion for supporting lesbian fiction and improving the overall quality of writing in the genre.
Contact Liz:
Website: thelizmcmullenshow.com
Email: [email protected]
Facebook: facebook.com/Liz.McMullen.Author
Twitter: @LizMcMullen
Other titles available by Liz
If I Die Before I Wake – ISBN - 978-1-943353-05-7
Charlie Dempsey has recently lost her beloved grandmother and is surprised to inherit a treasured family heirloom, the necklace her great grandmother wore on the boat from Ireland to the New World. But with possession of the necklace comes unwelcome and unseen guests that spark a paranormal awakening within Charlie and shakes up her once comfortable life as a first grade teacher in seaside college town. A dark spirit is stalking her, a ghostly child is haunting her, and she finds herself romantically drawn to Faith Lorian, a witch who is the key to unlocking the mystery of banishing the dark spirit once and for all. Together, can Charlie and Faith succeed, or will Charlie be irrevocably drawn into the darkness determined to ensnare her?
Finding Home - ISBN - 978-1-943353-04-0
Firestarter Kayla Cruise has been kicked out of another foster home, her twelfth, and she’s back at the railroad tracks where she always finds solace. Surprisingly, a woman shows up there as an apparition, offering something Kayla had been longing for all her life, a forever home. Not just any home, Tia Keating runs a group home for teens with special gifts…gifts like the ones Kayla has spent years running from.