Change of Heart (The True Heart Series Book 3)

by Layce Gardner

  “How about I help you do it after dinner?” Susan said. “And I’ll coil up the hose. That was my fault because I distracted you with my excellent kissing skills this morning.”

  Tess smiled. “You do have excellent skills.”

  “Come on, let’s get you inside,” Susan said, giving her a hand up.

  As they entered the house the oven timer went off. “Oh, crap, the quiche,” Tess said.

  “I’ll get it. You go wash your hands and face and then I’ll be in to play doctor,” Susan said.

  “You don’t cook,” Tess said.

  “I’m only pulling it out of the oven. I can handle that.”

  Tess raised an eyebrow.

  “I’ll be careful. I don’t want to mess up dinner. I’m starving.” She gently pushed Tess in the direction of the bathroom.

  Susan felt the heat of the oven on her face as she pulled out the delicious-smelling quiche. She set it on a trivet and went to check on Tess.

  “Hmm…You scraped them up pretty good,” Susan said, peering at Tess’s palms. “Where’s the first aid kit?”

  Tess looked bewildered. “I don’t think I have one,” she said.

  Susan opened the medicine cabinet. She found a mostly empty bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a box of Band-Aids. “This ought to do for now. I can’t believe we don’t have a proper kit. I’m going to remedy that immediately.”

  “Can it wait until after dinner?” Tess teased.

  Susan chuckled and planted a kiss on the tip of Tess’s nose. “I suppose.”

  ***

  Tess woke up in the middle of the night and watched as the street light streaming through the bedroom window danced on the floor and fluttered across Susan’s stomach. She noticed that Susan had lost weight. She knew that meant that Susan was stressed.

  Tess gazed at Susan, wanting to touch her, feel her soft, smooth skin, run her fingers along Susan’s hips, the dip and graceful curve she found so alluring. She studied Susan’s peaceful face. The only time Susan was peaceful was when she slept.

  After dinner, they’d nipped and kissed their way from washing dishes to the bedroom where clothes and bedcovers were strewn in a desperate need for lovemaking. She wondered if lesbians renewed their bonds when arrows of orgasms shot through their bodies. Tess likened orgasms to arrows. During an orgasm, she felt as if her heart flew from a bow string and sailed forth into the universe. She’d never tell another living soul, especially Susan, about her very unscientific explanation of the female orgasm.

  Tess couldn’t stand the thought of anybody else sharing such an intimate moment with Susan. Each time she had thought Susan was going to tell her about Carrie, Tess had deftly moved the subject to something else. Tess knew that wasn’t a good thing, but she couldn’t help herself. She didn’t want to know what was happening between Susan and Carrie. Her heart couldn’t bear it.

  Susan opened her eyes. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

  “I was admiring how beautiful you are,” Tess said, gently running her knuckle along Susan’s jaw.

  “You know I love you, right?” Susan asked.

  “I know.”

  Tess waited a moment longer. She was halfway expecting Susan to open up and tell her about her meeting with Carrie. Instead, Susan closed her eyes and drifted back off to sleep.

  Tess lay awake the rest of the night.

  Chapter Six

  Carrie royally screwed up a white chocolate mocha. She threw the cup in the trash and started over. It was the fourth order she had screwed up that morning. She couldn’t keep her mind on coffee. She’d thought working at The Perk would be relatively simple, easier than waitressing at Molly’s Cafe. Besides, she couldn’t bring herself to go right back to the place she’d started before she became Dr. Susan Everett’s fiancée. She couldn’t handle the glares of anger or pity from the regulars who knew the whole story and those they had told, about her jilting Susan at the altar. Christ, you’d have thought she’d drowned a sack full of kittens.

  Her co-worker, Tamika, took the order from her. Tamika was a tall black woman with dreadlocks piled high on her head. She exuded calmness and serenity. She took the new cup out of Carrie’s hand, saying, “Let me finish that for you. Miss Tight Ass over there is picky. If you want anyone to ruin the rest of your day, she’s the one to do it.”

  As if to substantiate Tamika’s claim, Miss Tight Ass tapped her long fingernails on the counter and asked, “How long does a simple coffee take? I’m running late as it is.”

  “It’s almost ready,” Carrie soothed.

  It was far from a simple order. Miss TA wanted three shots of espresso, a half pump of white chocolate, and a full pump of mocha using half-and-half. To top it all off, she wanted it dusted with nutmeg and a bunny rabbit face as her coffee art. Her order was far beyond Carrie’s skill level. Usually, Carrie only ran the register, which entailed putting the order in and making the tags that told the barista the customer’s specific requests.

  Today, one of the baristas called in sick and Carrie was their only option. Tamika told Glenda, the owner of The Perk, that she’d take Carrie under her wing.

  “You make the brew-only orders and the simple lattes,” Tamika told her. She handed Miss TA her order.

  “It’s about time,” Miss TA snapped.

  “You have a nice day too,” Tamika said, flashing her perfect teeth.

  Miss TA scowled at Tamika and stalked off.

  “Shoot me if I ever get all boned up over a cup of coffee,” Tamika said under her breath.

  Carrie took the next order. It was a latte, thank god. She could handle that one while Tamika pulled another barista feat of making a complicated drink order. What was it with these people? It was like everyone was trying to outdo the other in explicit requests for a designer cup of fucking coffee.

  Carrie glanced at the wall clock. She just had to get through another twenty minutes and things would slow to a manageable pace. At least being busy kept her from thinking of the disaster she’d made with Susan yesterday in the park.

  According to the eighth step in the big book of Narcotics Anonymous, she needed to atone for her transgressions. Maybe she shouldn’t have started with the biggest screwup of her life. She should’ve told Susan when they first started dating that she was a recovering opioid user. But how could she explain that she’d never be cured, that the feeling the pills gave her always hovered at the edge of her consciousness, taunting her with the power of release.

  She felt the allure, the craving, every single second of every single minute. Like right now. She wanted nothing more than to go to her tiny, dingy apartment, pop an oxycodone and ease into the warm feeling of calmness and bliss that eluded her when she was stressed and sober.

  After the peak rush, Carrie ran to the restroom. Her bladder was bursting. As soon as she sat down, the tears blindsided her. She simply couldn’t hold them in any longer. She didn’t know exactly why she was crying. Was it because she was a crappy barista? Or was it about Susan?

  Ditching Susan was the worst mistake she had ever made. She realized that now. She’d known it after only a month of living with Monica.

  Monica had turned out to be a greedy bitch full of unrealistic expectations and demands. Even the rocking sex they’d had when Carrie was supposed to be arranging wedding plans had died off quickly once they’d moved to Belize. They’d bickered about money, Carrie’s lack of goals, and housekeeping details after they’d had to dismiss the maid for lack of funds. It seemed everything Carrie did was wrong. She’d been relieved when Monica told her they were done. Monica had announced that she was flying back to the states and leaving Carrie to finish out the lease and find her own way home.

  It had taken Carrie less than twenty-four hours to get over Monica. She hadn’t wasted any tears. She’d said fine, then gone for a walk on the beach while Monica packed. An hour and a half later, she was a free woman. She wondered if Monica would’ve stayed if she had begged. It didn’t matter anymore. Carrie was here i
n Fenton and she intended to make amends and get her life back.

  She wanted Susan to forgive her. She wanted Susan to take her back. She wanted a second chance. She wanted to win back the only woman she had ever truly loved. She knew winning Susan back was going to be complicated. There was another woman in the picture. But that was a rebound thing. She could bide her time while Susan extricated herself from Tess.

  She splashed water on her face and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Be patient, she advised the woman with the red, swollen eyes.

  Carrie returned to the front counter to help Tamika clean up the coffee bar. She wiped down the tables and restocked the supplies. Carrie discovered that The Perk was always short-staffed as workers came and went. She and Tamika were the only steady employees.

  “Hey, why don’t you go ahead and cut out of here? I’ve got this,” Tamika said.

  “Do I look that bad?” Carrie asked.

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Thanks, Meek.”

  “I’ll put you down for a full shift. You deserve it. Sometimes, I wish Glenda would sell this place. Not that I could afford it, but I know I could run it better. I’d start with giving the staff a living wage. That’s why we go through so much help. Why work this hard when there’s easier jobs in town that pay better?”

  “Glenda is lucky to have you.”

  Tamika shrugged it off. “I like being a barista, but I’d also like to pay my rent.”

  “You and me both,” Carrie said.

  ***

  Carrie walked to her small apartment above Master’s Hardware store. Looking at the front of the shabby hardware store with its dirty windows, she cursed her bad decisions. She was truly up that famous creek, and it didn’t look like things were going to get better anytime soon. She went to the side entrance and climbed the stairs, avoiding the cracked wooden step that she was afraid would snap one day. With her luck she would break her ankle, then she wouldn’t be able to work, which meant she couldn’t pay rent, which meant she’d be homeless. She wouldn’t have the money to leave Fenton. She’d end up hanging out with the other homeless people in front of the library, illicitly panhandling and drinking her supper from a brown paper bag.

  With all these negative thoughts following her like a dark thundercloud, Carrie opened the door to her apartment, kicked it shut behind her, and sank into a camp chair. She desperately needed furniture, but couldn’t bring herself to drag anything up the stairs because that would mean she intended to stay in this rat hole. She’d managed to drag a twin futon up the stairs, but it sat on the floor until next payday when she could buy a frame. Then she’d have a bed and a couch combo. She sighed. The only thing worse than living in this dump was living in this dump stone cold sober.

  There was a sharp rap on the door. She jumped. Who could that be? No one ever came here. She didn’t want anyone to come here. Her circumstances were beyond embarrassing. She opened the door a crack. It was Parker. She was holding two smoothies from the juice bar next to The Perk.

  “Parker? What are you doing here?” Carrie asked.

  “I would’ve brought a coffee but I figured you’d be sick of it by now. Tamika told me you’d gone home for the day,” Parker said.

  “How’d you find out where I lived?”

  Parker cocked her head.

  “Oh, yeah, it’s Fenton and everybody in this town knows everything,” Carrie said.

  “May I enter?” Parker asked in a formal voice.

  “I wish you wouldn’t,” Carrie said.

  Parker held the smoothie up, saying temptingly, “It’s orange, mango, and papaya. Your favorite.” She jiggled the smoothie up and down.

  Carrie accepted the drink. “How’d you know my favorite flavor?”

  Parker cocked her head again.

  “Oh, yeah. Fenton.”

  “I’ve worked on these apartments before. I know what they look like inside,” Parker said.

  “Come on in,” Carrie said. She held the door open wide.

  Parker stepped inside and took a look around. “Doesn’t look like you’re staying,” she said. A roach skittered by. Parker stomped it with her work boot. “You shouldn’t stay here.”

  “I don’t intend to for long, but I’m strapped for cash.”

  “Does that mean you’ve changed your mind and you’re moving out of town someday?”

  “Why would I move? This is my home as much as yours. I grew up here and right now I need stability.”

  “I figured as much.”

  “I know you all want me to leave. You made that clear last time we talked, but I’ve got some stuff to work out.”

  “Actually I have a proposition for you,” Parker said. “That’s why I came here.”

  “What, you’re going to offer me money to leave town?”

  “No, I’m going to offer you a better place to live. It has strings though.”

  Carrie slurped on the smoothie and studied Parker’s guileless face. “I don’t understand,” Carrie said.

  “I’m working over at the Terrence mansion. They’re getting ready to do a world tour now that Mr. Terrence has retired. Mrs. Terrence has a large itinerary for their travels and she’s apprehensive about leaving the house unattended. She’s got a lot of priceless antiques and art.”

  “Why doesn’t she ask you to house-sit?”

  “She did. I have my own house to sit in,” Parker said. “I want to help you. If you’ll let me.”

  “Why would you help me?”

  “Susan told me about your addiction problem. She’s worried that you might fall back into it if things continue the way they are.”

  Carrie couldn’t but smile a little. So, Susan was worried about her. That was good news.“I’ve been clean for three years.”

  “That’s good. Mrs. Terrence has a furnished apartment above their carriage house. It’s yours if you want it. All you have to do is take care of the big house, flush the toilets, dust, and mow the lawn. They even have a riding lawnmower.”

  “Sounds too good to be true,” Carrie said.

  “You won’t even have to pay for rent or utilities.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?” Parker asked.

  “I thought you and your friends wanted me to leave town. Now you’re offering me a place to live?”

  “You just said you weren’t going to leave town anyway. I’m doing this for Susan because she still cares about you.” Parker held up one finger in a warning signal. “This does not mean you have any chance of winning her back.”

  Carrie shrugged.

  “Ready? Let’s go,” Parker said.

  “Go where?”

  “To see your new apartment.”

  ***

  Carrie remembered Parker’s van. She and Parker had been good friends once upon a time— before Carrie messed up. The van was as neat and well organized as ever. “Things haven’t changed much,” Carrie said.

  “Work is the same, but life has definitely changed,” Parker said, pulling onto the street.

  “So I’ve heard.”

  Parker braked at a red light. “You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself. It’s unhealthy. What’s done is done. Time to move on.”

  Instead of being shocked, Carrie chuckled. “Good ol’ Parks, telling it like it is. I always respected you for that.”

  “As the love of my life says, it’s one of my best qualities,” Parker said. “Unfortunately, not everyone feels the same.”

  “Yeah, I remember how they tormented you in school until your grandma took you out and homeschooled you,” Carrie said.

  “I got a better education anyway,” Parker said, heading out of town on Highway 11.

  Carrie knew Parker didn’t like to talk about those days. It had been hard seeing the other children taunt Parker for her odd ways. She had been horrible at social interaction and the other children had swarmed around her like sharks who smelled blood.

  Lunchtime was the worst. The other kids wouldn’t sit next to Parker in
the cafeteria. They hurled insults and trash at her as she walked by with her lunch tray. It was Carrie who had come to her rescue. She had grabbed Parker by the arm and led her to two empty seats.

  “You can sit with me,” Carrie had said.

  The two girls had sat next to each other every lunch period after that. Carrie had been shunned by the kids because she was poor. Her brown bag lunch usually contained nothing but a mustard sandwich. Two slices of white bread with nothing in between them but mustard. Sometimes she only had a few crackers that she swiped when the cooks weren’t watching. She would use the ketchup bottle from the lunch table to make what she jokingly called mini-pizzas.

  Parker shared her lunch with Carrie. Carrie shared her friendship. It had worked out perfectly for them both.

  They rode in silence as Parker maneuvered the hairpin turns up the highway. Carrie gazed out the window. “I forgot how pretty it can be here.”

  “Just like the signs say… ‘God’s Green Country.’”

  A horrible realization dawned on Carrie as they drove farther and farther from town. “Parker, I don’t have a car. How am I supposed to get to work?”

  “They have a car you can use. It’s an old Mercedes their daughter used when visiting from college. She lives in Chicago now, but they keep the car as a backup. I changed the oil and checked it out. The car is sound.”

  “Wow, you’ve arranged everything.”

  Parker pulled through the stone gates leading up to the Terrence’s house. The driveway curved up the property and ended in a circular driveway. The massive house was all windows in the front and made of stone with wood beams. It looked like it belonged in the mountains of Colorado.

  “Are you sure I can do this?” Carrie whispered, as Parker pulled up in front of the house.

  “Yes. Or I wouldn’t have set it up for you. Don’t worry, I’ll be around and will help you. Mrs. Terrence is nice and her husband does what she tells him.”

  Mrs. Terrence barreled out the front door before Parker had even turned off the engine. She raised her hand in greeting, exclaiming, “Parker! How good to see you again.” She looked Carrie up and down and seemed to approve of what she saw. “You’ve brought my new caretaker.”