by Robbi McCoy
Lauren turned to smile at Cassie, who did the same. She watched Cassie’s face as her gaze turned solemn and dropped briefly to Lauren’s mouth before she seemed to rouse herself and push up with her hands to a sitting position. She leapt to her feet and ran off down the beach. Lauren turned over and sat up, watching Cassie plow through surf toward Jennifer, who was standing waist deep in the ocean. They embraced one another in the waves.
Lauren shivered involuntarily. That was the first evidence she had seen that Cassie felt it too, the pull that Lauren had been pushing aside all week. The attraction she felt for Cassie was becoming more insistent, was threatening to burst over the boundaries by which she had defined it. What she had been telling herself, what she had told both Faith and Cassie, was that she loved Cassie like a sister. It was a phrase she kept foremost in her mind—like a sister. Every time she looked at Cassie’s face and felt herself softening with affection, before that affection could turn to desire, she repeated this phrase, reminding herself that she was a mature woman with the ability to direct her emotions. She was not some undisciplined adolescent subject to the spontaneous whim of physical urges. She could control herself.
But if Cassie was struggling against the same current, that was a complication Lauren hadn’t considered. She’d thought this was her own private battle.
As she watched Cassie splashing in the surf, she was aware of a powerful anxiety creeping over her. It wasn’t the first time she’d felt it. It had actually been going on for months, her secret feeling of dread that sometimes overtook her joy. In fact, it usually appeared at precisely the most joyful moments, as if the joy itself were cause for fear. That wasn’t new for Lauren. Being happy invariably led her to worrying about losing whatever it was that was making her happy. After fifteen years with Faith, though, she had gradually learned to be more optimistic, in general.
But this new anxiety was nothing to do with Faith. It was Cassie she was afraid of losing now. The sense of doom had become more intense than ever. It was the kind of feeling you get when you start something knowing how it will end, knowing that every action you take is leading you toward a disastrous conclusion and nothing you do will make it come out differently. It was like driving a train on a track to a washed out bridge, unable to turn, unable to stop. You know there’s nothing you can do but continue toward your fate, and so, after an initial panic, you resign yourself and watch as a bystander might, as you hurtle toward oblivion.
Chapter Twenty
Jennifer popped the cap on her third Michelob Light just as the Giants scored another run and the three men at the bar fell into a round of hissing and cursing at the big screen TV in the corner. All of them were Dodger fans, as was Jennifer. Faith was the solitary Giants fan in this group. She and Jennifer sat at one of the tables watching the game and playing checkers. Jennifer shook her head in dismay at the TV.
“What the fuck!” shouted the short guy at the bar. “What the fuck! Why the fuck didn’t he throw that ball? He could’ve thrown that motherfucker out.”
“Hey, fellas,” cautioned the bartender, “watch your language. Ladies present.”
All three of the men at the bar turned to look at Faith and Jennifer, then, as if they had forgotten. The short guy looked apologetic and mumbled, “Sorry.”
Jennifer waved a hand in their direction. “What the fuck,” she said.
The guy laughed and slapped a hand on his thigh before turning back to the game.
“Your move,” Faith said.
Jennifer moved one of her checkers, then took a swallow of beer. Faith was drinking 7-Up tonight. She was tired after their long day of sightseeing, perhaps more than the others, since she’d been driving. As soon as the ball game was over, she decided, she was going to bed. Lauren might be up for hours yet. She was such a night owl. Faith hadn’t seen her since dinner when the four of them had broken up. Watching a baseball game was not Lauren’s idea of a good time. Faith could rarely talk her into watching. It wasn’t Cassie’s cup of tea either, apparently. Jennifer, though, had leapt at the idea of an evening of sports. Much preferred, no doubt, to talking about books she hadn’t read or science she didn’t know or any of the subjects they invariably veered toward when Cassie and Lauren were together. One thing that was becoming obvious to Faith was that Cassie was starved for an intellectual equal to talk to, and it was partly that gap Lauren had been filling for her. Given that Lauren had Faith to talk to, though, Faith wasn’t really sure what need Cassie was fulfilling for Lauren.
Faith jumped two of Jennifer’s checkers on her next move. So far, she had won every game. Jennifer wasn’t very good at this. Or maybe she just wasn’t paying attention. By the time the bottom of the ninth inning started, Faith had won the checkers game. And the Giants were about to win their game as well.
“That’s enough,” Jennifer said. “Let’s watch the end of this disaster over here.”
Minutes later as the Giants emerged victorious, the guys at the bar cursed, more mildly this time. Jennifer did the same.
“I think it’s time for me to call it a night,” Faith said.
Jennifer turned up her bottle and finished what was left in it. “Me too.”
Faith stood and pulled on her jacket. “Where do you suppose Lauren and Cassie are?”
Jennifer stood and stretched her hands over her head. “Probably up in the room fucking.”
Faith stared at Jennifer, who appeared indifferent. “Why’d you say that?”
Jennifer shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Don’t you think they want to?”
Faith didn’t know how to answer that because if she were totally honest about it, she would have to say yes. Or at least maybe. Not that she thought they actually would. In fact, she suspected that any physical attraction on Lauren’s part was entirely subconscious. She didn’t believe Lauren would be actively cultivating a romantic relationship with another woman. Especially not right in front of her partner. The two of them made no attempt to hide their affection for one another, openly touching, even holding hands. They apparently thought it was innocent, which meant it was.
“No,” Faith said. “That’s ridiculous. They’ve formed a close friendship. I think it’s sweet.”
Jennifer threw her jacket over one shoulder, swaying as if she might tip over. “Sweet? Yeah, right.” She sounded cynical and resentful and slightly drunk.
They walked together out of the bar and across the lobby of the hotel. Faith scanned the area quickly.
“Maybe they’re outside,” she said.
“I’m telling you,” Jennifer insisted, “they’re upstairs going at it. You want to go together or do you want each of us to check our own rooms and see which one of us hits the jackpot?”
“You don’t really believe that. If you did, you wouldn’t be so calm.”
Jennifer shrugged again. “Like I said, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Faith began to feel angry at Jennifer then for planting that idea in her mind. Now a little doubt was playing around the edges of her consciousness. Not that the idea hadn’t already occurred to her, at least the idea that Lauren and Cassie were becoming too affectionate. But she had never thought they were acting on it.
Every night this week, the two of them had stayed up into the wee hours talking, as they were now, presumably, completely preoccupied by their fascination for one another. Faith watched with a mixture of wonder and uneasiness at Lauren’s involvement with Cassie, at how happy she appeared, at how much she looked like a woman falling in love.
If she were falling in love with Cassie, did she know it? Lauren was insightful and self-aware. She never ceased analyzing herself. So what did she think was happening? How did she explain this to herself if she didn’t recognize it as infatuation? Did they talk about that during their endless conversations? Did they talk about their feelings for one another? If they did, what conclusions did they reach?
Faith had been asking herself these questions as the days passed, as she observed, as coo
lly as she could, and reassured herself that Lauren was totally committed to her. She knew she could ask Lauren these questions. She hesitated to say anything, though. She knew that if she asked, she would get an honest answer. So far, she had shied away from that. Faith had never been very good at confronting strife. Or even acknowledging it. So far, she and Lauren had encountered very little strife in their relationship. She hoped that wasn’t about to change.
“I’m going to check outside,” she told Jennifer.
She pushed through the courtyard doors into the mild night air, followed by Jennifer. The pool was a shimmering rectangle of cool blue light under a starless sky. No one was in it. Under one of the poolside umbrellas, Lauren and Cassie sat across from one another at a table. Faith glanced at Jennifer with an I-told-you-so, then walked over to them.
“Hi,” Lauren said. “Is the game over?”
“Yes. Giants won.”
“What’ve you two been doing?” Jennifer asked.
“Just talking,” answered Cassie. Then she yawned. “What time is it?”
“After eleven,” Faith said. “I’m going to bed.”
Lauren stood. “I’ll come up too.”
Cassie shoved her chair back and got up. “It’s getting kind of cold out here anyway.”
The four of them walked back through the lobby to the elevators.
“What time do you want to leave in the morning?” Cassie asked as they rode up to the fifth floor.
“Early,” Faith said, “but not obscenely. Let’s try for eight.”
“Okay. See you at breakfast.”
Cassie took Jennifer’s hand as they exited the elevator and the doors closed behind them. Faith and Lauren continued to the sixth floor.
“What were you talking about all that time?” Faith asked.
“Oh, you know. This and that. Nothing important.” They left the elevator and walked to their room. “It just keeps amazing me, though, how much we have in common. It seems uncanny sometimes.”
“You’ve become awfully fond of her, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” Lauren answered without hesitation. “Though I can’t really say the same for Jennifer. I mean, she’s okay. On occasion, she can even be endearing, but I do sometimes wonder what Cassie sees in her.”
“Are they happy? I mean, is their relationship strong?”
Lauren slid her key card into the lock and pushed the door open. “They’ve got some problems.”
“Well, every couple has problems.” Faith shut the door and turned the dead bolt.
“We don’t.” Lauren tossed her jacket on the end of the bed.
Faith hesitated, reluctant to open up a difficult subject, before asking, “Don’t we?”
Lauren looked momentarily puzzled. Then she approached Faith and kissed her tenderly. “No. As far as I know, we have no problems whatsoever. We’re fantastic.”
Faith held Lauren loosely. “Then we’re very lucky, aren’t we?”
Lauren nodded, looking happy and worry-free. Faith was peeved all over again at Jennifer for putting negative thoughts in her mind. There was obviously no need for concern. Lauren wasn’t capable of the kind of duplicity necessary to look the way she was looking—affectionate, lighthearted—and to be secretly longing for another woman. As if to prove it, Lauren pulled her closer and kissed her with a lingering passion, her body full of need.
“I think we do have a problem,” Faith said when Lauren released her.
“What?”
“You’re very frisky and I’m very tired.”
Lauren smiled, then released her and swatted her hard on the ass. “Sweet dreams, my love.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“I’m going to make an ice cream run,” Faith said, jumping up from her chair.
“I’ll go,” Jennifer chimed in, raising her hand. “Cass, what kind do you want?”
Cassie stood beside Lauren at the kitchen sink, drying dishes. “You know my tastes, Sweetie.”
Jennifer nodded. Faith grabbed her keys and kissed Lauren on the cheek before leading Jennifer out to the garage.
This was their last evening together. Lauren was sad, thinking about Cassie leaving in the morning. She was trying hard not to succumb to that emotion, but was having only marginal success.
As the Indigo Girls CD finished, the next one in the carousel began to play. Cassie raised her eyebrows at the music, a wordless question.
“Schubert,” Lauren answered.
“Well, that’s fine with me, but Jennifer’s not going to be able to listen to that.”
“Let’s find something else, then. Come on.”
Lauren hauled out a stack of CDs from the music rack and placed them on the coffee table. They sat on the couch and started looking through them.
“I have this one too,” Cassie said, holding up k.d. lang’s Ingenue.
“Sure. Don’t we all?”
As they went through the CDs, they made a pile of those that would appeal to all four of them and another pile of rejects.
“Oh!” Cassie shouted, holding up one of Lauren’s most recent acquisitions, The Best of Jane Morgan.
“I bought that just a couple of months ago, you know, because you remembered her recording of ‘Fascination’ so fondly. You remember; they played it on the ship.”
“Can we play it?”
“Sure.”
“Quick before Jen gets back. She hates these old songs.”
Lauren put on the CD and returned to the sofa as the first song, “Strangers in the Night” began to play.
“Nice,” Cassie said. “What track is ‘Fascination’?”
“Fifth or sixth.”
They continued to sort through the music, looking for something that Jennifer wouldn’t object to while Cassie hummed along to the Jane Morgan songs, most of which were old romantic standards they both knew well.
“That was an incredible dinner,” Cassie said. “You’ve impressed me every time you’ve served us food. Even breakfast.”
“I’m trying to impress you,” Lauren confessed.
“Oh, sure, I know that. I know you don’t eat like this all the time.”
“I want you to enjoy your visit. I want you to come back some day.”
Cassie laid her hand over Lauren’s and squeezed it reassuringly. It seemed she was always offering reassurance. Why did this friendship seem so fragile? Lauren wondered. She’d always felt that way, from the day she knew she really cared about it, that last day in China as they said goodbye. Even then, she’d felt nearly hopeless about the chances of this long-distance friendship.
“What flavor ice cream do you think they’ll come back with?” Cassie asked.
“Well, Faith will hover over strawberry, coffee and rum raisin.”
“None of those are going to appeal to Jennifer. She’ll go for chocolate or something with nuts, like butter pecan.”
“Maybe we’ll end up with vanilla.”
Cassie laughed with abandon in the way she typically did when she was happy and relaxed.
“What’s this?” she asked, holding up a John Denver CD.
“Oh, that’s one of Faith’s. Put that in the reject pile.”
“Gladly. It didn’t seem like you. I mean, one thing we do have in common is music.”
“We have a lot of things in common,” Lauren said.
“True. Sometimes I feel like you’re my alter ego or something. I’m still amazed at how close we’ve become, so quickly.”
Lauren smiled and looked up from the CDs on the table. “I feel the same way.”
How easy it would be, Lauren thought, to say “I love you” to Cassie. Whenever those words formed in her mind, which had happened several times during this week-long visit, she pushed them aside. She had signed her Christmas card “Love Lauren and Faith.” She had signed, “Love Lauren” on a couple of special-occasion e-mails. But sitting here face to face with Cassie, she cautioned herself to avoid that word. She didn’t want to go over the line, a line she was fi
nding it harder and harder to even recognize.
“Do you want some coffee?” Lauren asked.
“If it’s decaf.”
“It is.” Lauren went to the kitchen and poured two cups of coffee, stirring some milk into hers. As she returned with Cassie’s cup, “Fascination” started playing. Cassie sprang up from the couch and stood listening, a brilliant smile on her face. Lauren set the cups on the coffee table.
“It’s just as I remember it,” Cassie said, breathless. “Oh, Lauren, I feel like I’m ten years old!”
Cassie’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. Then she shook herself and wiped them away, smiling again. “Thank you so much for playing that.”
“You’re welcome,” Lauren said, amused at the dramatic reaction.
Cassie approached and they held one another in a close hug as they had often done. Lauren put her hand tenderly on the back of Cassie’s head, aware of a stillness that had overtaken them as they stood together, unmoving, barely breathing, frozen in the awareness of their bodies touching. Simultaneously, they each turned their heads to face one another. Cassie’s mouth was a mere two inches from her own. She tilted her head slightly as their mouths came together. Lauren wrapped Cassie into a tighter embrace as the kiss deepened and continued, slow and soft and sensuous. She closed her eyes and parted her lips, urging Cassie deeper. As their mouths grew more insistent and she felt Cassie’s body pressing urgently against her, Lauren began a passionate freefall.
She knew now that she’d been wanting and waiting for this every day since Cassie’s arrival. The way she was responding made it clear it had been the same for her. There was nothing tentative about this kiss. It was full of hunger and the joy of winning something long desired. It filled Lauren’s body with heat and an aching need.
By mutual consent, they moved apart at last and stood looking at one another, wordless, for a long moment. Then Cassie swallowed hard and looked away.