Mending Defects

by Lynn Galli

  In no time, we were pulling into Lena’s driveway. Her door opened at the sound. She came toward us as we got out of the car and I went to free the dogs. “Did you run out of gas?” she asked Tamiko as they embraced.

  Side by side, it was easy to spot the resemblance. Lena’s eyes were a shade lighter but otherwise identical in shape and positioning. They shared the same cheekbone structure, too. I’d probably spot all the similarities if I wanted to be rude and stare for longer. With Owen, too.

  “You weren’t kidding about the altitude,” Owen told her.

  “We should have tied a string to us before we left,” Tamiko said.

  “Ahh,” Lena laughed, taking the leashes from me. “You found them where?”

  “Only a half street off course. They would have found it eventually.” I nodded in assurance to the man I assumed was her grandfather.

  “Ha!” Tamiko declared, not giving her husband a way out. “We would have been walking for days if not for our rescuer. Thank you, dear.”

  “You’re welcome, Tamiko. Owen, nice meeting you.”

  “Thank you, Glory. I’ll never live this down, but I’m happy that my knees won’t be sore tomorrow.”

  Lena’s smile sparkled at me. “Shouldn’t I be surprised that you’ve already met my grandparents on the first day of their visit?”

  “Nope, small town and even smaller neighborhood.”

  Her grin widened as she studied me. “How about dinner with us on Saturday? Erica and her family will be out from Maryland by then.”

  I made an effort at polite. “I don’t want to crash your family reunion.”

  “You won’t be, dear,” Tamiko told me before Lena could.

  “It’ll be fun to have fresh blood at the table,” Owen inserted.

  I laughed. “Sure, sounds good.”

  *

  When I brought in my plate from Lena’s deck, she was the only one in the kitchen. Erica and her eldest daughter had been in there just moments before, but it looked like they abandoned Lena to the dishes.

  “Dinner was delicious,” I said, scraping the food scraps into the trash.

  “Papa is the barbeque master. Eri’s husband thinks he’s good, but Papa can put him to shame.”

  “Competition seems to be a thing with your family.”

  She laughed and bumped against me before handing me a towel when I offered help. “Competition is the only thing in our family.”

  “Your grandparents are great.”

  She turned to face me with a warm smile. “They are my heroes. Aside from being great people, their families both turned them away when they fell in love. They were able to repair the connection, but it took a long time before my grandma’s traditional Japanese family came around to the idea of a black son-in-law. His family wasn’t much more accepting.”

  “They’re your mom’s parents?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your grandma is very beautiful. Is your mom as much of a looker?”

  “I think she is. Eri takes after Grandma. I’m more of a combo of both grandmothers.”

  “I see your grandma’s eyes and cheekbones, but I also see your grandfather’s ears, chin, and long fingers.” I glanced into her living room. “If you show me photos of your other grandparents I bet I can Mr. Potato Head the rest of your face.”

  She laughed again. “You know what I like about you?”

  “My porch and free beverages?” I joked to hide the flush that ran through me at her words.

  “Those, too,” she agreed with a chuckle. “But it’s how accepting you seem to be. You didn’t even blink when I told you they were my grandparents.”

  “Why would I, even if I hadn’t guessed?”

  “Most of my friends who’ve met them think I’m kidding or toss out some racist question about why my features aren’t more black or Japanese.”

  “These are friends of yours?” My eyebrows rose automatically.

  She shrugged as if it she’d let it go a long time ago. The tiny braids in her hair jiggled at the movement. Of the hairstyles I’d seen, this was the most involved. It must have taken hours to pleat the long strands into what looked like millions of braids.

  I felt myself blush when she caught me staring at the mesmerizing style. “I have to say that hair is pure genius.”

  “Thank you,” Erika’s daughter said as she came into the kitchen again. “My sister and I did it last night. We could do yours.” Her hands were already reaching for my hair. “Ooh, feel this, Aunt Lena. So soft, like a baby’s hair. Mom! Come feel.”

  Lena’s mouth nudged ajar as she watched her niece’s fingers scrunch chunks of my hair. “Taylor!”

  Erika stopped in the doorway at the scene. “Tay, leave the nice lady’s hair alone.”

  “I can’t; it’s so soft.” Her dazed voice made us laugh.

  I didn’t need to touch hers to know that her curly mass would be thick and sturdy. “Not sure my hair could withstand tight braids, kid.”

  Her hands dropped away. “Definitely not.”

  I rejoined Lena at the sink to finish up the dishes. Her eyes kept drifting back to my hair as her niece suggested styles for my hair type. She looked like she wanted to test the softness for herself. I found myself wishing she would.

  All night she’d been almost bubbly. It was clear how happy she was to be surrounded by family. She’d told me after Erika’s first visit how much she missed being able to get together with them on weekends. I was glad to see that this experience wasn’t making her wistful.

  “What’s going on in here?” Tamiko demanded, stepping up beside Erika. “Are you making your guest do dishes, Lena? Didn’t I teach you better?”

  “Yeah, Ms. No Manners,” Erica taunted.

  “She offered, Ms. Free Loading Visitor who has yet to cook or clean in all the time she’s stayed here.”

  “Girls!” Tamiko scolded.

  Instead of being horrified by the scolding, they burst into laugher. It was easy to imagine Tamiko taking care of them when they were younger. I felt the warmth and caring they had for each other. Usually I’d see something like this and feel sad that I didn’t have siblings to spar with, but tonight it was satisfying enough to be near it.

  Lena was becoming more and more important in my life. It made me happy to see that her family seemed supportive of her move here. It meant she would likely stick around. Seeing as I was rapidly becoming dependant on seeing her regularly, I was almost as happy as she was about the support.

  Chapter 24

  One last patch of ivory remained in my guest bedroom. Ashlyn attacked it as well as she’d covered the rest of the room. I’d finished with the edging a few minutes before and stood back to take in the sage green color. It would go really well with the new bedspread I’d bought. My mom would love the color of her assigned room the next time she stayed over.

  “I’ll put the ladder back,” Ashlyn said, packing it up and hauling it away.

  I followed her out of the room, veering off to the kitchen with the brush and roller. My arm ached, but I was glad to finish the room. It was one of those projects that had been nagging at me since I’d had the house built.

  “Look who I found?” Ashlyn called out when she came back from the garage.

  I looked up from the kitchen sink to see Lena being dragged into view. “Hey, neighbor, how’s your day?”

  “Good. Been painting?” She eyed the paint stains on our arms and faces.

  “Want to see, Ms. Coleridge? We just finished the guest room.” Ashlyn was already pulling her down the back hallway.

  Rinsing out the last brush, I set the painting tools aside to dry. I could hear Ashlyn describing the process and paint color choice. It had gone much better than when I’d helped Christine. Probably because no one had to face a hormone crazed pregnant woman if we didn’t get it right.

  They both joined me in the kitchen after the tour. “Looks really great,” Lena commented.

  “All thanks to Ash.”

 
“No,” she denied modestly. “We did it together.”

  “Either way, it looks wonderful. I know who to call when I get around to changing colors in my house.”

  Ashlyn blushed, obviously overjoyed by the attention and compliments. I was increasingly impressed by this girl. I wouldn’t have been able to have a regular conversation with my principal outside of school when I was a junior.

  “Thanks, Glory. I’ll start on the garage floor Monday,” she said, accepting the check I handed her. “I better get home and help with dinner. Bye, Ms. Coleridge. Hope you’re having a nice summer.”

  “I am, Ashlyn, thanks. See you soon.”

  We watched her bound out of the house and laughed at the same time. “Energy,” Lena said.

  “Endless energy.”

  She looked relaxed in her capris and scoop neck shirt. The braids were gone now, back to loose and natural. She’d been in Denver for the last few days, showing her grandparents around before putting them on a plane. “I wanted to see if you were free for dinner.”

  I was, and really wanted to go, but I was also really tired. “Do you mind if we just stay here?”

  She stepped forward, concern showing on her face. “Did she run you into the ground?”

  “My arm feels like it’s going to fall off.” My legs and back, too, but I didn’t want to sound like a wimp. I hadn’t felt this tired after painting Christine’s room, but maybe I’d been overexerting myself lately.

  “Dinner here sounds good. Want me to go pick something up?”

  “That would be great. It’ll give me a chance to shower some of this paint off.” I pointed to the three visible patches on my arms and neck. “Whatever you’re in the mood for is fine with me.”

  Her glance turned serious for a moment. She looked like she was trying to find something to say but gave up, nodded, and headed out without another word. If I had more energy, I’d wonder what just went through her mind. As it was, I’d be lucky to make it to the shower.

  The water and soap woke me up, cleaning and energizing all at once. My farmer’s tan seemed to make the rest of my skin look ghost-like in the mirror when I stepped out to dry off. I would have to make time to sit out in the privacy of my backyard soon for a little more consistent coverage. Only the reddish pink of my surgery scar added any color to my torso. The thick, jagged line ran from center sternum to a couple inches above my belly button. Ugly thing, really ugly, even to someone who tried to stay positive, but it was the reason I was alive.

  I ran my fingers over the rough, raised scar. It was actually a series of six scars, one on top of the other. The close study brought on a reminder that I’d been feeling more tired than usual lately. I brushed off the thought, chalking it up to the increased activities over the past couple of weeks.

  The doorbell rang as I was slipping on a camisole. A second later, I heard Lena call out that she was back and letting herself in. I smiled at my reflection, trying not to examine why her announcement made me so happy. I really liked her and the fact that she was my neighbor was becoming less of an issue for me. I hadn’t tried to have a real relationship since leaving college, and I’d never attempted one in this too small town. I couldn’t help feeling this would be a stupid move if we moved past friendship. Especially stupid if she didn’t feel the same way.

  Dressed but leaving my hair wet, I headed out into the dining room. Lena had set plates and put out the salads and sandwiches she’d picked up. She was just setting down the water pitcher when she looked up. Her eyes looked over and scanned me from head to toe. When they skated back up slowly, I thought perhaps I wasn’t the only one fighting an attraction to her neighbor.

  “Hey,” Lena said and cleared her throat. “I made myself at home. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. Looks delicious.”

  “We’re not in a hurry if you want to dry your hair.” Her fingers gestured to my wet hair. For a second I thought they might brush against my head, but she pulled them back before making contact.

  “I’ll air dry tonight. I’m starving. Thanks so much for running to get dinner. I don’t think I could have waited to make something.”

  She laughed as we both took our seats. “What would you have done if I hadn’t come by?”

  “Popcorn and lemonade.” I started eating, thankful that I didn’t have to resort to my plan.

  “Come on.” Even her doubtful expression looked beautiful.

  “Serious. Check the cupboards. I’ve got boxes of microwave popcorn as my fallback.”

  “Iron stomach of youth, huh?”

  “You’re pretty hung up on age, aren’t you?”

  She took a bite of her sandwich, stalling. “Just yours.”

  “Because?” I wasn’t going to let her off the hook. It seemed like we’d been close to flirting many nights, but we never trudged through set boundaries.

  She mixed the dressing into her salad before responding. “My ex was five years younger and acted like a child most of the time.”

  That was a good reason to be hung up on age, all right. “You didn’t clue in to that before you committed to her?”

  “Stop,” she responded to my kid by pushing against my shoulder and snorting. “You know how it is. You always put your best self forward at first. That goes away as you become more trusting of the relationship, but she managed to keep it up until right after we’d gone through the commitment ceremony.”

  “Sucks.”

  “Yep. I still can’t believe I was fooled for more than a year. Who can keep up a front for that long?”

  Really sucks. “Your ex?”

  She laughed at my guess and looked relieved by it. “I felt like I was taking care of an entitled adolescent rather than sharing a life with a partner. It didn’t take long to figure out that she’d married me for my money. I tried to work things out with her, but she lost interest when I followed my therapist’s advice and closed down the Bank of Lena.”

  Bank of Lena? That must have stung. “I’m sorry.”

  She let out a long breath. “I’m not. It was a big mistake from the start.”

  “When did it end?”

  “About a year now.”

  “Still fresh, then.”

  She tilted her head and examined me. “Not so much anymore.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. That felt very personal. “But the age thing is a trigger?”

  “It is when I’m standing on the edge of the same cliff.”

  Her words settled over us. The quiet seemed to rise to an uproar. I was pretty sure she’d just admitted to at least considering a relationship with us. If I was being honest, I’d been thinking the same thing since the start of summer. It was getting harder and harder to keep from touching her when we sat out on the porch together.

  “You’re saying what exactly?”

  Her brown eyes bounced up to search mine. I hoped my tone conveyed that she wasn’t the only one at the edge of the cliff. “That I’ve been wanting to rip your clothes off for weeks now.”

  I felt my breath leave me. My heart began to pound and it was all I could do to stay focused. “I would say you should buy me dinner first, but you already have.” My joke broke through the tension, my stomach untwisting and her shoulders relaxing.

  “Yeah, so.” She shrugged, not sure where to go.

  I cleared the dishes, taking some time to think. “You’re not the only one.”

  She looked up from setting her glass in the sink. She nodded and thought for a moment. “The smart thing would be to stay as we are.”

  I smiled, happy that I wasn’t the only one fighting being prudent. “That would be the smart thing.”

  She turned back from the sink. Her gaze seared into mine, and I felt a current run through my body. Everything we’d just talked about flushed out of my mind. In that moment, my only focus was her.

  I stepped toward her and that was enough. She pulled me against her and her mouth took mine. There was no other way to describe the kiss. She took everythi
ng I had to give. The feel of her mouth overwhelmed and excited. I’d never been kissed like this before. Never understood the power of a kiss until her. I could stop with this if I had to. That had never happened before. Kisses didn’t do this to me, but it was that satisfying.

  Lena had other ideas, though. Her hands started roaming, touching my back, neck, arms, and stomach. They felt almost as good as her mouth. One hand shot under my shirt then stopped. She pulled her mouth away and asked, “A camisole? In this heat?”

  It had been hot today, but I always ran on the cool side. Plus it covered my scar when I wore v-necks. It was difficult to form a response when she’d blasted my mind clear of all thoughts but the kissing. The amazing, excellent, superb, unequaled kissing.

  “Weren’t you talking about clothes earlier?”

  “Taking them off, yes. Let’s get to that.” She stole another kiss then pushed us into motion.

  As I led her to my bedroom, I no longer cared that this wasn’t a smart move for us. I couldn’t allow myself to think that if it didn’t work out, we’d be in an awkward living situation until one of us moved. All I wanted was to feel her against me.

  Nerves assaulted me when I opened the bedroom door, but Lena didn’t let them settle. She tilted to slant her mouth against mine, chasing away all doubts. Soft yet demanding, her lips pulled pleasure through me. Her tongue darted along the seam of my lips, teasing until I opened to allow her inside. Fire blazed at the touch of her tongue against mine.

  More, I needed more. I reached to unbutton her shirt, pulling it off in seconds. Her pants came next, pooling at her sandals. She stepped out of them as her hands got rid of my shorts. I broke away just long enough to pull off my shirt.

  She pushed me onto the bed. I slid back, studying every inch of her. Tiny red dots jumped out on her black bra and matching panties. My mouth went dry at the sight of all that silky skin just waiting for my touch. Sexy as hell.

  The bed dipped as she crawled up toward me. I felt myself thrum in pace with her advance. Her eyes skated over my legs, stopping at my pink panties before moving over my white camisole and up to my lips. Before she could paralyze me with another kiss, I reached around and unhooked her bra. Her breasts came free, filling my hands. Taut brown nipples teased my palms as I squeezed, trying to map every contour.