Ava placed her hand on Sam’s thigh. She patted her gently.
Sam looked sideways. “I must really look bad if I’m getting a three pat.”
Ava chuckled. “You said it, not me.”
It had been a week since the shooting. A week that Sam felt was one of the toughest in her life. She felt disconnected most of the time, better understanding what Ava was going through. Her concentration seemed to have a mind of its own. She couldn’t stop thinking about what she should have done differently. Not that she had any opportunity to stop thinking about it. Local reporters continued to camp outside the building and turn up intermittently at her home. When she wouldn’t answer the door, they tried Haley. So much for thinking her sexual orientation would stay under the radar. Besides everything else, she and Haley had been outed big-time. Not that it really mattered, though.
What Sam couldn’t get out of her head was how close she had come to being killed. She simply had never really faced her mortality. Frankly, she didn’t like what she had seen. The one good outcome—she and Lisa were inseparable.
“I still can’t believe she did it,” Sam said.
Ava shrugged. “How long have we known that KD was unbalanced?”
“On the inside or said aloud to others?”
Ava patted Sam’s leg again.
“Either stop doing that or be prepared for me to start crying,” Sam said.
“That isn’t necessarily a bad thing to do.” Ava started to touch Sam again and stopped herself. “How’s Haley?”
“A basket case that won’t leave her house. She blames herself for everything. She’s only seeing Kelly,” Sam said. “Kelly’s all wrought up because she allowed KD to get the drop on her, and it was her job to protect the rest of us. If we’re going to place blame, it’s my damn fault the building was open so early.”
“Like Haley ever had any control over KD’s actions or Kelly could foresee every scenario at the building,” Ava said. “Or that you shouldn’t feel free to do as you need in your place of work?”
“You try telling that to two headstrong lesbians.” Sam swatted at a pesky honeybee.
“I’m having enough trouble convincing one.” Ava shielded her eyes and squinted at the woman coming out the back door of the building. “Is that your lady friend? She looks different out of uniform.”
Sam smiled and resisted agreeing too strongly. “Yes. She wanted us to have a little time alone.”
“It was all beyond anyone’s control. You do realize that, don’t you?” Ava waved to Lisa.
“A part of me does,” Sam said. “Another part of me blames the legal system. KD should’ve been in jail somewhere.”
“That’s too easy.” Ava dismissed the notion. “If you have no respect for the law, as KD didn’t, why should you be concerned about breaking it? KD knew she was a small fish as far as the police were concerned.”
“Ava!”
“KD’s path was set long ago, and she followed it instead of finding a way to break away from it.”
Sam sighed. “She won’t be missed. Isn’t that the saddest thing of all?” Sam rested her arm on the back of the bench behind Ava.
Sam knew that she was alive by luck only. They all were. KD had waited until she had her chosen audience. She had created one last melodrama. Sam fully believed that until the very last minute, KD had not decided whom to shoot. In a split-second decision, she pressed the barrel of the gun against her temple and squeezed the trigger.
Would any of them ever be comfortable in the incubator building again? Sam had no choice. She had made herself go back to work two days after the shooting when the police finally released the site. She refused to allow KD to ruin the career she loved. Tambor was already applying for jobs elsewhere and turning a deaf ear to Sam telling her the negative vibes would pass. Kelly had simply quit the security company and moved in as Haley’s bodyguard.
Lisa talked to Sam morning and night and continued to suggest counseling for all of them. Every time Lisa brought psychiatry into the conversation, Sam joked that she was going to call Shirley Eckels.
Ava couldn’t resist one last bout of patting. “Everyone should be mourned in some fashion. Each of you is doing so in your own way. You saw how tortured KD was. Once you’re past the shock of the violence you witnessed, you’ll look at her differently. Give it time.”
Sam watched Lisa as she listened intently to the explanation of the different types of seeds that could be used in the birdfeeders.
Ava followed Sam’s gaze. “Doesn’t he remind you of Walter Matthau? He lives on my floor, one of the first to move in. Mr. Wheeler knows how to dance, too.” Ava winked.
“Get out of town.” Sam took a good look at her friend. “You look fantastic if I forgot to tell you when I first sat down.”
“Thank you, dear.” Ava smoothed the skirt of her dress. “So do you, by the way. Love agrees with you.” She dipped her chin and looked pointedly at Lisa. “I’m so happy here. Donnie thinks I just say it to make him feel better, but I am. I’ve made the first new friends I’ve had in years. Groups of us gather to play cards or listen to music each evening. I’ve joined the book club. It’s pleasant to go places together. I don’t feel as though I’m inconveniencing anyone. We help look out for the ones of us who are more afflicted.” She caught Sam’s look. “It’s reality. That’s why we enjoy each other’s company now as much as we can. I loved my house dearly, but I had forgotten how nice it is not to have that kind of responsibility.” She glanced at her wristwatch.
“Am I keeping you from something?” Sam asked.
“I have two grad students coming by this morning to help with the legwork on my projects. The university press wants first right of refusal of my manuscript.” Ava beamed with the good news.
“You’re going to be famous.” Sam hugged her.
Two of the residents passed by, power walking.
“Showoffs,” Ava said.
Sam chuckled. “We could rig a trip line between the trees.”
“That’s what Fred always says.” Ava watched him give Lisa a hug goodbye.
Lisa joined them. “I want to move here. Good morning.” She gave Ava and Sam a kiss on the cheek.
“Call me Ava, dear.”
“Good morning, Ava dear,” Lisa said.
“That’s what I call her, too.” Fred continued his rounds of the building, easily carrying the sack of black oil sunflower seeds.
“Dances and good hearing?” Sam raised her eyebrows. “He’s a keeper.”
“I’ll fight you for him,” Lisa said. “He’s so sweet.”
“Oh, my, you two are becoming too much alike.” Ava looked from one woman to the other.
“You should have seen her, Ava. She was knocking paramedics out of the way to come inside the building that morning.” Sam watched Lisa’s reaction.
“Paul called me and told me Sam was in trouble, then I heard the trauma alert come in. Freaked me out. I flew over there, arrived just as the SWAT team was standing down. I almost wrestled a rifle from one of them.” Lisa revealed more of her feelings with each telling of the story. She knelt in front of Ava. “I don’t ever want to experience that again—being held back in the parking lot and knowing a shot has been fired. I thought Paul and I were going through the cinderblock wall to find out who was hurt or dead.”
“You’ll have your hands full keeping this one out of trouble.” Ava patted Lisa’s shoulder. “See, she doesn’t mind a little physical contact.” She winked at Sam.
Lisa stood and held out her hands, one to Ava and the other to Sam. “We know all about that.”
It was Sam’s turn to blush. The night of the shooting had begun with Sam in one type of shock and ended with altogether another.
Lisa had won the argument with Paul to drive Sam home. Paul had spent the day with the women after he and Lisa called in to use paid time off. The gist of Lisa’s words to Paul was that the hospital admin had best approve her request or there were three other health care
providers in the Richmond area she could find work with. Paul had echoed the sentiment. Neither of them had to find new employment.
“She’s too quiet,” Paul said to Lisa while watching Sam huddle on the sofa, staring at the television.
“Just let her hear us talking,” Lisa said. “She’s absorbing the television as background comfort noise, us too. We’ll coax her into drinking a soda and eating something in a little while.”
They had actually managed to have Sam eat lunch and doze off that afternoon as they all gathered on the sofa. First Sam had a good cry—sure sign of emotional recovery. Paul treated Sam as though a small child, not moving after she comfortably nestled against him.
After dinner, Paul took Lisa aside. “Are you staying tonight?” There was nothing coy in his question.
“Yes,” Lisa said. There was no mistaking the intent of her answer.
Paul nodded, kissed Sam on the cheek, and left to check on Haley and Kelly.
“Thank you for everything.” Sam’s voice trailed Paul. “I’m so lucky to have the two of you.” She hadn’t moved from the sofa except once to pee but had regained a little color in her cheeks. She followed Lisa about the rooms with her gaze.
“I think we’re all feeling lucky to have you, Haley, and Kelly tonight.” Lisa brought Sam a cup of cocoa. “I know it’s summer. Drink it anyway.”
Sam cradled the mug in her hands. “No argument here. I’m freezing.”
“Well, bring that with you then.” Lisa led the way along the hall. She flipped the switch that turned on the bedside lamp and looked about the room. “Nice.” The bed was king size, the furniture dark, the walls and trim a subtle shade of rose and magenta.
Lisa removed all of Sam’s clothes, then her own. She slid into bed beside Sam and put her arms around her as she spooned Sam’s body. “Best way I know to warm you up. I don’t do this for just any of my patients.”
“I should hope not.” Sam was relieved not to be alone. “I’m so glad Haley has Kelly, and I have you.” Her tone was tentative.
“I know, sweetie.” Lisa pulled Sam onto her back and kissed her. “Yum. Chocolate kiss.”
Sam raised her hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I should have brushed my teeth.”
Lisa kissed her again, longer and harder.
“I’m feeling a little warmer now if you want to try a few more of those,” Sam said.
Lisa chuckled. “Now don’t go breaking the mood.”
But it was already done. Sam had never spent such a passionate night that found her one minute in a fit of giggles and the next in the throes of ecstasy. She and Lisa explored, guided each other, offered commentary, and finally fell asleep early the next morning.
Lisa eased out of bed and left the bathroom wearing Sam’s robe. She managed to find enough supplies in Sam’s cupboards and refrigerator to make a decent breakfast for five. She called Paul, who picked up a tray to share with Haley and Kelly. Lisa carried Sam’s breakfast in just as she awoke.
“It can’t be morning already,” Sam said.
“Oh, yes.” Lisa set the tray on the bed, then removed the robe and climbed under the covers.
“What a beautiful day,” Sam said.
“How would you know? You haven’t looked outside.” Lisa poured coffee from the carafe.
Sam shuddered. “I’m alive and in love and so are my best friends. That makes any day beautiful.” She tasted the coffee and set it aside to cool.
“We are, aren’t we?” Lisa grinned. “I’ll even say it out loud without fear of jinxing us. I love you.” Lisa lowered the sheet and flashed Sam. “No more catting around for you, missy.”
“What?” Sam’s gaze was focused on Lisa’s breasts. “Absolutely not.”
Lisa nodded. “One last hurdle and we’re set.”
Sam thought for a moment and smiled. “I can handle it, I mean, them. I mean your boys, your children, not your breasts, even though I very much like to handle those.”
“Give it up, Samantha.” Lisa pulled her close.
“Oh, yeah.” Sam’s concentration was gone. “I really do love you.” Her voice was muffled.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Sam eased her car into a parking spot on the narrow street, making sure she was blocking no one’s driveway or sidewalk connection to the pavement. No point in pissing off a neighbor the first time she ventured to Lisa’s house.
She was in one of the older suburbs that had seen the first outpouring of city residents from the downtown area after World War I. The houses were of the age to be going through the second set of major renovations after falling into disrepair as the neighborhood lagged behind the times before coming back into vogue.
Lisa had told Sam to look for the smallest house on the street. She made no apologies. “It was the only one I could afford to buy even before values went up. Better to own a smaller house than rent a larger one.” Sam agreed with the logic.
Sam brought flowers for Lisa and Frostie Root Beer that she had liked as a kid for the boys.
Lisa had promised to make this easy on Sam—Sunday night supper with their father picking them up shortly afterward.
“Just get through the meal,” Sam told herself. It seemed as though her life with Lisa was to be centered by food.
The house was inviting. Its exterior siding was cream-colored with dark green trim and door. Lights glowed from every window. It felt like a comfortable home just standing on the porch. Sam liked the wicker furniture with thick cushions. One end of the porch was dominated by a wooden swing almost as wide as the decking.
Sam knocked on the frame of the screen door.
“I’ll get it,” Alex said. He raced across the living room in sock feet. “Hi, Ms. Moyer.” He held the door open for her.
“Hey, Alex.” Sam blinked as her eyes adjusted to all the lamps and the television turned on in the room.
Lisa’s oldest son lay on the couch, focused on the television, offering no acknowledgment of Sam.
Sam took another step forward. “Hello. I’m Sam.”
The young man shifted his head to keep from breaking concentration with the television.
“Mom!” Alex shouted toward the back corner of the house.
“Rick, introduce yourself.” Lisa called from what Sam assumed to be the kitchen.
The older boy sighed and swung his body to a sitting position. He looked up at Sam. “I’m Rick.”
Instead of shaking hands, he faked Sam out and reached for a beer from the coffee table. He looked at the carton of soft drinks she carried. “Nice. No caffeine, loaded with sugar, and a dark cola to stain our teeth. Did you think we’d be that easy?” Rick burped and stood.
“Don’t you dare leave. You agreed to eat dinner with us tonight and ride back with your father.” Again, the unseen Lisa.
Sam looked at Alex. “How does she do that?”
“She doesn’t take any crap off him.” Alex grinned, relieving Sam of the six-pack. “Thanks, I like root beer. Dad always buys the cheapest.” He nodded toward his brother. “He’s eighteen. He can have real beer when he’s at Mom’s.”
Lisa had explained her philosophy to Sam. She knew Rick drank alcohol. She didn’t want him sneaking around. He was permitted to drink in her home as long as he stayed in and was nowhere near an automobile. He had also promised her he wouldn’t use tobacco if he was allowed alcohol. Lisa thought it ridiculous the way the state flip-flopped on the legal drinking age yet allowed eighteen-year-olds to vote, join the military, and buy tobacco.
“Mom!” Rick mimicked his brother.
“He can have one soda with dinner and take the rest home,” Lisa said.
“Seriously,” Sam said, looking about, “does she have a closed-circuit monitor in here?”
“I’ve been through all of this before,” Rick said. “She knows how I feel.”
Sam invited herself to sit on the opposite end of the sofa from the tall, dark, and brooding oldest son who was definitely his brother’s every opposite. She g
lanced at the flowers gripped in her hand. “Oh, yeah. How’s that?”
Rick smiled. Sam could see why Lisa had married Rick’s father. “My mom left us for women like you. I always had to meet them. Ponyboy was too young. You should have seen some of her first girlfriends.” He struck a body builder’s pose. “Why should I have any respect for her or her lifestyle?” He waited.
Sam sensed the young man’s intelligence camouflaged by deep-seated anger.
“Iced tea?” Alex asked. He didn’t wait for an answer. “I’ll bring you a glass if you’re still here when I come back.” He vanished toward the source of Lisa’s voice.
“You want to do this now and get it out of the way. Fine.” Sam set the bouquet of flowers aside on the coffee table and shifted slightly to look Rick in the eye. “Would you rather have had your mother living a lie and miserable? What do you think that would have done to your family?”
Rick’s lips thinned.
“How old were you when your parents split?” Sam asked.
“Almost Alex’s age—twelve,” Rick said.
“So you hated both of your parents by that time anyway?”
Rick blinked.
“You noticed the fights leading up to their divorce, felt the full effect of the separation, and were old enough to understand most of what you heard?” Sam pressed on.
“Yeah,” Rick looked away. “I failed a year of school, then spent the next five years being forced to see Mom a few hours each weekend. Dad made her come to the house to see Alex, but I came here. He threw me to her but protected Alex from the lesbian lineup. Now we spend entire weekends here.”
“Does she listen to you and try to help you? Does she tolerate your shitty moods and rudeness? Does she refuse to be drawn into your neglected drama? I bet she’s never let you play her against your father.” Sam leaned forward. “I’ll tell you a secret.” She looked around. “Sometimes life sucks no matter how good or bad a person you are.”
“Like seeing that woman kill herself in front of you?” Rick asked.
Just A Little Romance Page 23