Love's Encore Series (Books One and Two)

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Love's Encore Series (Books One and Two) Page 24

by Miranda MacLeod


  Rorie snorted with laughter and Cecily blushed even more and covered her eyes with one hand.

  “It’s not funny, Rorie,” she said with an attempt at sounding stern. “I made reservations and everything.”

  “Not funny?” Rorie countered, sucking in her cheeks to keep from laughing harder. “It’s hilarious. I’m pretty certain you just made your very first naughty sexual innuendo!”

  “No, I didn’t,” Cecily grumbled, mortified and wishing a hole would open in the floor and swallow her up. “It wasn’t on purpose!” She peeked between her fingers a few moments later and saw that Rorie was staring steadily at her. The sensation made her squirm. “Stop looking at me like that. Was that really bad? Is it something you shouldn’t say?”

  Rorie glanced away, an amused smile on her face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare, but I was just trying to figure out how you even knew what that phrase meant. The straight-laced, soccer mom, Cecily Parker I knew in Connecticut wouldn’t have had a clue.”

  “Well, the Cecily DuPont who just moved to California to be with her girlfriend didn’t like the idea of meeting all your friends completely unprepared.” Cecily squared her shoulders and looked directly in Rorie’s eyes. “I’ve been studying.”

  “Studying?” Rorie’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Studying what?”

  “Movies, television, books. You know, all the important lesbian popular culture that I would’ve been familiar with if I had spent the past two decades with you instead of as a suburban housewife.”

  Rorie’s mouth dropped open. “You’ve been studying how to be a lesbian by watching movies?” She paused a moment to reflect. “What kind of movies, exactly?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows.

  “Rorie!” Cecily chided.

  “What?” Rorie shrugged in mock innocence. “You said you were studying. If there’s going to be a test, I just want to make sure you pass. Wait—do I get to administer the test?”

  “What you’ll get to do is drive back to LA and spend the night all by yourself, if you don’t quit teasing me,” Cecily muttered under her breath. “Now come on, or we’ll lose our table.”

  “Fine,” Rorie answered with a laugh. She’d been carrying a small overnight bag since she left her car, and she took a moment to ease it from her shoulder to the floor. “Just let me grab my wallet out of here so I can leave this behind.” She bent over the bag and began rummaging through the contents without success.

  “Never mind the wallet!” Cecily insisted, grabbing Rorie’s hand and pulling her away from the bag and toward the front door. “We don’t have time for you to search for it. You don’t need it anyway. Tonight’s my treat and I’ve got it all taken care of.”

  “No, Cici,” she replied, waving dismissively with her free hand. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Yes, I do,” Cecily countered. “This is our first real date, out in public. And the first time in my life that I can pay for it with money I’ve earned myself. Do you know what that means to me?”

  Rorie nodded. “Okay, you win.” She followed Cecily through the open door and out onto the front steps. “So, where are we headed?”

  “Down past the traffic circle in the middle of town.” Cecily surveyed the quiet street of her new neighborhood. It was an older part of the city, and while the homes were meticulously maintained, most lacked garages and the cars were parked tightly along both curbs. “But parking there won’t be easy on a Friday night, and I’ll never get a space near the house by the time we get back. It’s only a mile. Maybe we should just walk?”

  “Sounds perfect.” Rorie reached for Cecily’s hand and laced their fingers together with a gentle squeeze. “Lead the way.”

  The women walked silently to the end of the block, enjoying the late-spring evening. The sun had nearly set, tinting the edges of the sky in shades of pink, while a cool, jasmine-scented breeze chased away the afternoon heat. Cecily breathed in deeply, exhaling slowly as a sense of peacefulness and well-being filled her for the first time in months. The path to this moment had been filled with more twists and turns than she could ever have imagined, but she prayed that the road ahead for Rorie and her would be smooth and clear.

  Rorie turned her head toward Cecily and smiled, playfully swinging their joined hands. “So, how is everything, really? Because I know the past few months haven’t been all books and movies.”

  “It seems surreal that I’m finally here. First having to wait so long, and then when it finally came, I was so caught up in Tyler’s graduation and all of the moving details that it’s hardly sunk in. It’s only hitting me now.”

  “No regrets, though?” Rorie asked it as nonchalantly as she could, but Cecily sensed a trace of concern beneath the surface.

  “Not at all,” she reassured her. “The only thing I do regret is the number of years I avoided all of the normal things that adults are supposed to learn how to do. I’ve set up more accounts, and direct deposits, and automatic bill pays in the past two weeks than I ever did in my life. With a different username and password for every single one, since Tyler insisted that’s what I had to do.”

  Rorie chuckled. “Well, he was right. You can’t be too careful with your personal information online. And let me guess, your pride demanded you do it all by yourself instead of asking him to help?”

  “Hardly!” Cecily shook her head ruefully. “Pride had nothing to do with it. I just couldn’t get his attention. All that boy could think about was graduation and his backpacking trip to Europe with his friends.”

  “No time for his mother? I guess you’ll have to get used to it now that he’s heading to college. And did he get off on his trip okay?”

  Cecily nodded. “He flew out on Monday. I’m worried sick with it being just him and a few of the boys from school wandering around for two months, but he’s promised to post pictures every day.” Cecily reached into a side pocket of her purse and pulled out her phone, turning it on and opening it to his latest post. “Here, see? They’re in Amsterdam today. That’s him in front of the art museum they visited, and he said tomorrow they might go see a tulip farm.”

  Rorie looked at the picture and snorted. “I wonder what they’ve posted on their real pages.”

  Cecily’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “Babe, seriously? This has to be a page they set up just for the parents. A bunch of American boys in Amsterdam on their own and you think all they’re interested in is art and flowers?”

  Cecily had a sinking feeling at the thought. Rorie had a point. She sighed as she began to slip the phone back into her purse, then tensed as it vibrated against her fingers. She slowed her pace and squinted at the text message on the screen.

  “Something wrong?” Rorie asked, slowing her own steps to match Cecily’s.

  “No. Just something from my credit card company.” She opened the app on her phone for that account and typed in the password. An error message appeared on the screen. She tried again with the same result, glared at the screen, and tried again. Her eyes widened in alarm as a new message appeared. “Shit. I just locked myself out of the account,” Cecily confessed with a grimace, “and they’ve frozen the card until I call customer service, ‘for my convenience’, apparently. How is that convenient?”

  Rorie laughed sympathetically. “Well, can you call them now and straighten it out?”

  Cecily eyed her cell phone nervously. “They’re going to want account numbers and passwords. All of that’s at the house, and we don’t have time to walk back if we want to make our reservation.”

  “Well, just use another card and you can sort it out in the morning.”

  “I don’t have another card.” Cecily felt a cold lump in her stomach at the realization. “They were all Chet’s cards. As soon as the divorce was final and my name change went through, I had to apply for my own. I didn’t think I’d need more than one.”

  “And someone made me leave my wallet behind.” Rorie looked pointedly at Cecily. “I guess there’s n
othing to do but go back and get it. We can call the restaurant and, if they can’t give us a later reservation, we can find somewhere else to eat.”

  Disappointment washed over Cecily until she remembered the pay stub in her purse and her mood brightened. “What am I thinking—I got paid today! There’s a bank across from the restaurant. We’ll just stop there on the way.”

  They resumed walking at a quickened pace. As Cecily returned the cell phone to her purse, she remembered what Rorie had said about Tyler’s photos and felt a new flutter of nerves in her stomach. “Rorie? Do you really think Tyler’s not sharing everything about his trip with me?”

  Rorie groaned. “I shouldn’t have said that. Now I’ve made you worry.” Rorie gave Cecily’s fingers a squeeze. “Look, like it or not, he’s an adult now. But he seems pretty smart.” She chuckled softly. “Now, when I was that age, I never had the money for Europe, but I did go to New Orleans a few times for spring break and…” Her voice trailed off. “And there are so many reasons I am just going to stop talking right now instead of finishing that story.”

  “That’s really not reassuring, you know.”

  “Sorry. I don’t have a lot of practice with worried mothers. It’s not like I had one of my own.”

  The reminder of Rorie’s past tugged at Cecily’s heart and she wrapped her arm around Rorie’s shoulder, pulling her close enough to kiss her cheek. They continued to walk silently, arms around each other’s waists, for the last block until they reached the traffic circle in the center of town. On the far side was the bank, a turn-of-the-century building made of golden-yellow brick with arched windows that were all dark except for one where the ATM was located. They entered the lobby and Cecily slid her card into the machine and punched in the first digit of her PIN.

  “Careful,” Rorie said with a grin. “You don’t want to enter the wrong number here, too, and have the machine take your card away.”

  Cecily shot her a sideways glance but refrained from further comment as she punched in the remaining numbers. She gave a triumphant shout as the message on the screen changed to one that asked for her withdrawal amount. “And you doubted me,” she gloated. “Let’s see. $200 should be enough, I think.” She tapped the numbers into the keypad and waited for the whirring sound of her money being dispensed. Instead, the machine beeped and a new message on the screen warned her of insufficient funds. Cecily shook her head. “No! There should be plenty of money in the account.”

  Rorie inched closer and stared at the screen, then pressed the button for a balance inquiry.

  “Fifty dollars?” Cecily felt a growing sense of panic as she stared at the screen. “But that’s just the money I put in to open the account. Where’s my paycheck?”

  “It’s okay, Cici. We’ll figure this out,” Rorie soothed. “Do you have the pay stub with you?”

  Cecily nodded as she fished the envelope out of her purse and handed it to Rorie.

  “Oh, sweetie,” she said, looking at the paper in her hand. “This isn’t a pay stub. It’s a live check.”

  “What? But it’s supposed to be deposited directly into the account. I set it all up with HR on my first day!”

  “Well, I don’t know what to tell you, except sometimes these things get messed up for the first few paychecks.” Rorie patted Cecily’s shoulder. “You can deposit it in the machine now, but it probably won’t clear until Monday. In the meantime, I think we’d better just accept defeat and see if we can scrounge up some dinner back in your kitchen.”

  Cecily’s lower lip trembled as she felt the sting of tears hovering in the corners of her eyes. She’d been dreaming of this night for so long, and the idea that their first official date would be reduced to peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in her kitchen was more than she could bear. Why did I ever think I could manage on my own? Taking a deep breath, she chased her doubt away and tried to collect herself enough to think of a plan instead of following her first instinct: to crumble in a heap and let Rorie take her home. That’s what old Cecily would’ve done, and she wasn’t going to be old Cecily anymore. I can do better. With her moment of panic defused, the image of a cute diner she’d passed the other day flashed into her head.

  Squaring her shoulders, she turned back to the ATM and withdrew a single twenty dollar bill. “Our fancy dinner is out, but I have a backup plan. Come on.”

  She took Rorie’s hand and led the way from the bank and down one of the smaller streets leading away from the traffic circle. They headed toward a glowing red neon sign at the end of the block that announced the presence of a drugstore soda fountain and late-night diner, guaranteed to serve the best burgers in town. It was the perfect place for a first date, like something right out of a Hollywood movie.

  Chapter 2

  Chattering voices and clinking silverware echoed in the crowded space as an old Patsy Cline tune played from a jukebox in the background. The walls were covered in the type of nostalgia that places like these were known for: early twentieth century advertisements, old license plates, and even some autographed photographs of movie stars who had eaten there over the years. Along one wall stretched a gleaming wooden counter, behind which was served milkshakes or cocktails, depending on the customer’s mood. The succulent scent of grilling burgers and onion rings infused the air.

  After a short wait, the women were shown to a table for two in the corner and handed menus. Her stomach already growling with hunger from the smell of food, Cecily’s mouth watered as she read the choices, but she could feel her heart palpitate when she caught sight of the prices. “Fifteen dollars for a cheeseburger?” she commented with a nervous chuckle. “Diners have gotten a little more upscale since I went on dates in high school. I don’t recall them costing quite so much.”

  “Like you noticed back then. I don’t believe for a minute that you ever paid on a date in high school.”

  Cecily tilted her head in acquiescence. “This is a new experience for me all around.” She reached across the table and took Rorie’s hand in hers. “I’m just sorry I made such a mess of our plans.”

  Rorie looked down at their clasped hands and grinned. “We’re sitting in a packed diner, surrounded by all your new neighbors, and you’re holding my hand right out in the open without even checking to see if anyone’s looking. As far as I’m concerned, that makes it the best first date imaginable. Even if we do end up having to split a meal.”

  Cecily winced apologetically. “And I think we might have to. One burger. We might be able to upgrade to sweet potato fries, but I’m afraid a milkshake is out of the question.”

  “I guess you’ll have to call your bank in Connecticut and have them transfer more funds.”

  Cecily shook her head vehemently. “No, I don’t want to do that. I’ll deposit my paycheck in the morning, but that’s it. I already took what I absolutely needed to get established, to pay for the move and the first and last month of my lease. But aside from that, I plan to manage on what I earn, the way everyone else does.”

  Rorie studied her with a doubtful expression. “Are you sure? A little extra buffer wouldn’t be a bad thing—Just look at what happened tonight.”

  Cecily’s cheeks tingled, blushing scarlet. “A stupid mistake. And one that would be much more forgivable if I were twenty instead of forty. But it’s like I discussed with my therapist before leaving Connecticut—”

  “Wait, you saw a therapist?” Rorie interrupted, her eyes widening in surprise. “You? I thought you were fundamentally opposed to the idea of a therapist.”

  “Divorcing my husband, alienating my mother, and announcing to a houseful of dinner guests that I’m a lesbian before moving across the country to start a new life with my girlfriend?” Cecily responded wryly. “Even I recognize when it’s time to call in the professionals.”

  “Good call.” Rorie chuckled. “And this therapist told you that you needed to live in poverty in this new life? I’ll bet she charged a pretty penny for that advice.”

  “It’s not the mone
y,” Cecily countered. “It’s learning how to take care of myself. I have a job that, aside from this silly snafu with my paycheck, pays me more than enough to live on if I’m frugal.”

  “You know, it would’ve stretched even further if you’d just moved into my house in Westwood instead of renting a place all the way out in Orange County.”

  Cecily shot Rorie an exasperated look. “This is closer to my work. Besides, I wouldn’t learn how to live on my own if I were living with you.”

  “You could rent the guest house in my backyard. I could come for sleepovers.”

  “Rorie. Stop. This is important to me. It’s something I need to do if I’m ever going to be ready to live with someone again. Besides, I don’t want to rush. We haven’t known each other that long.”

  “Eighteen years isn’t long?” Rorie’s forehead wrinkled at this preposterous suggestion. “Seriously? We’re going to be old and gray, or dead, if you don’t consider that long enough.”

  Cecily pursed her lips, a frown tugging at the corners. “That’s not what I meant. It’s not the eighteen years that’s the issue, it’s that throughout them all, we’ve only been together as a couple for four months.”

  Rorie paused, looking genuinely confused. “Four months? That can’t be right.”

  “I know. I said the same thing to my therapist and actually made her draw a diagram before I’d believe her. But it’s true. One semester in college—what’s that, fifteen weeks, maybe? But we weren’t really together until about halfway through. Then last fall at the Oakwood Theater—that was, what, another eight weeks?”

  “It seems like longer. But what does that mean?” A nervous edge crept into Rorie’s tone. “You’re not ready to commit? You want to date other women?”

 

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