by Robbi McCoy
“From what you’ve been telling me of your life in recent years, I can see you heading up the first annual Coos Bay pride parade.”
Cassie laughed. “If I did that, it’d be just me, my cat, and a couple of guys who live on a houseboat at the marina. A very sparse parade.”
Lauren was enjoying talking to Cassie so much she didn’t want the call to end, but it had already been an hour and a half. She recognized this feeling as the same one that had led them to plan their second vacation together only two days after coming home from their first. Even then, in the days following the China trip, she’d thought they missed one another too much. They were too happy together for an ordinary friendship, then. Lauren didn’t feel that now, though. Her joy at talking to Cassie again was tempered by a lot of living in the last decade. As glad as she was to be reconnected with Cassie, she didn’t feel like jumping up and down with glee. Glee was no longer part of her repertoire.
“Why don’t you drive down?” Cassie suggested, proving once again they were thinking in concert. “Take a little holiday. I could meet you there. Or you could just have the place to yourself if you’d rather. It’s very restful.”
“Sounds nice,” Lauren said nonchalantly.
“I’m serious. Let’s get together. It’ll be fun.”
“I don’t know.”
“Lauren, I think we should. The way things happened before....”
Oh, Lauren thought, so we are going to talk about that. She wouldn’t shy away from it. She’d always felt free to say anything at all to Cassie. It was sort of a surprise, really, that they hadn’t discussed it at length right after it happened. That had been an anomaly for them.
“Yes,” Lauren said. “I’ve always felt guilty about what happened. It was so self-indulgent and stupid of me. It ruined everything.”
“What? You’re blaming yourself?”
“For kissing you, yes. That’s what you’re talking about, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but it was me. I kissed you. I was the one who did it.”
“Really? Is that what you think?”
There was a brief silence, then Cassie said, “I think we should definitely get together and talk.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Lauren drove down from Portland on a warm summer day with white, fluffy clouds drifting overhead. It had been three weeks since she and Cassie had agreed to this visit. They had reinstated their e-mail correspondence, although the notes tended to come along every other day rather than three times a day like they once had. They wrote mainly about what had happened during the ten years of silence, and sometimes they shared interesting facts about their days.
Lauren had learned that Cassie’s son Eric had gone to college, had majored in sociology and had married two years ago. Cassie’s legal practice was successful and kept her busy. She had specialized in family law and actively courted the gay community to specialize even further in issues surrounding children—adoption and child custody cases. Lauren was glad she was doing something she was passionate about.
Once she reached Coos Bay, she consulted her GPS receiver to guide her to Cassie’s house. It was a single-story modern structure on a bluff overlooking the ocean, set back away from the cliff at least a thousand feet. It wasn’t a large house, but it was a handsome one. The front, the side facing the ocean, was one long wall of high window panes framed in dark wood. Lauren pulled into the driveway and verified the address one more time. She’d have the place to herself for a few days, as Cassie wasn’t arriving until the weekend.
She was looking forward to seeing her, but she was also looking forward to the peace and isolation of this place. She knew being alone here wouldn’t be lonely in the same way being alone at home was.
Stepping out of her car, she stretched and breathed in the ocean air, cool and briny. The house had a small front yard and no lawn, just hardy native plants, some of them in bloom, adding a spot of color to the greenish gray background of the coastal scrub along the rest of the bluff. The nearest neighbor was at least a half mile away.
This cost some money, she thought. Jennifer’s fear that Cassie would give it all away for free had apparently been groundless.
Lauren lifted her suitcase out of the trunk and walked up to the front door, feeling lighthearted. The front door key, she had been told, would be buried under a thin layer of dirt in a planter holding a silk palm tree. She scraped lightly around the base of the plant until she found the key in a slim plastic box. She turned it in the lock, unbolting the door. The room inside was bright, filled with light streaming in from the wall of sea-facing windows. It was a living room, a big open space with seating, a large screen TV and an entertainment center. Lauren was startled to hear the stereo playing a cool jazz instrumental. Was it possible Cassie had changed her mind and arrived here first to greet her?
Then, with a jolt, Lauren saw a young, naked woman standing at the entrance to a hallway on the other side of the living room. She was a brunette, slim, with a sleek and sexy body that made Lauren’s mouth fall open. Her suitcase slipped from her grasp, hitting the floor with a hard clunk. She wouldn’t have been surprised if Cassie had arranged a welcome gift for her, but she would have guessed a fruit basket or maybe a box of chocolates.
Lauren blinked hard, thinking she might be seeing things, but hallucinating naked women wasn’t one of her usual eccentricities. When she opened her eyes, the woman was still there, grabbing a pillow from the sofa to cover herself. She appeared as shocked as Lauren was, so obviously she wasn’t here to be her sex slave after all. Or, if she was, she was already playing out some fantasy of the shy, innocent girl encountering the experienced older woman who would seduce her ruthlessly and perhaps with one of those deep-toned evil laughs. Bwaa-ha-ha! she silently practiced. Am I capable of that?
Before she could consider her answer, she heard someone coming in from the right at a gallop. A young man, also completely naked, bounded into the room. Lauren stared, wide-eyed. It had been quite a while since she’d seen a naked man. This one was definitely intriguing in an art class kind of way. He had a full black mustache and thick dark eyebrows, luxurious black hair, deep-set eyes and a pale, nearly hairless chest. His genitals appeared fully functional.
His eyes were on the naked woman across the room. “Ah, there you are!” he called playfully.
As he started toward her, she pointed wordlessly at Lauren. He let out a short, high-pitched yelp that any gay man would be proud of, and covered himself with his hands.
With a series of sputters, he backed hurriedly out of the room. Lauren turned her attention back to the young woman, who crouched behind a recliner, presenting only her head and shoulders.
“Are you in the right house?” she asked tentatively.
“I hope so. I’m a friend of Cassie Burkett. She invited me.”
At the mention of Cassie’s name, the girl behind the chair nodded. “You know what? Let me just get dressed and then we can talk.”
“Okay.”
She smiled uncomfortably. “Can you turn around for a sec?”
“Oh, sure,” Lauren said. “Sorry.”
What an amusing turn of events, Lauren thought, smiling to herself. Now that she was alone, she examined the room more carefully: a modern, open floor plan, tastefully furnished with muted, complementary colors—gold, sage and light blue. A series of three photos on the far wall drew her over. They were all of the same boy, a ten or eleven year old version of the man she had just “met.” She recognized his eyes and eyebrows. His expression, though smiling, was tentative in each of the photos, as though he felt awkward in front of a camera. Lauren could sympathize with that feeling. She hated having her picture taken. Her smiles, with rare, astonishing exceptions, all came out looking like someone was giving her a wedgie.
She walked into the kitchen, a bright, high-ceilinged space with white cabinets and black counters. There was an oval island in the center of the room and impressive, upscale appliances. Lauren ran a hand over the curv
e of a red Kitchen Aid mixer. She studied the gas range and its stove-top grill with envy. Whoever had designed this room had a fairly serious chef in mind. That wasn’t Cassie. Though not helpless in the kitchen, she was not particularly inspired either. Not unless she had changed considerably since Lauren knew her. Opening a couple of lower-level cupboards, she discovered all of them had inserts that slid out on glides. A recycling tote in the corner contained several cans and bottles. These young people must have been here at least a couple of days.
Just then, the young man appeared in the doorway wearing khaki shorts, Teva sandals and a forest green T-shirt with a large gecko on the front. With clothes on, he looked strikingly handsome.
He held out his hand. “I’m Eric Hutchins.”
“You’re Cassie’s son.” She shook his hand.
“Right.”
“I’m Lauren, a friend of your mother’s. I’m sorry for intruding. I understood it would be just me here, at least until the weekend when your mother is scheduled to arrive.”
“It’s my fault. She doesn’t know we’re here.” He leaned against the counter. “I have an open invitation to use this place, which I do now and then. It makes a great weekend destination because we can be up here in about seven hours.”
“And the girl, that was your wife Adele?” Lauren laughed nervously. “I hope.”
He smiled. “Yes, that was Adele. Sorry for the unconventional welcome.”
“I sort of enjoyed it, actually.”
He snorted lightly. “Have you been here before?”
“No.”
“Then I’ll show you around. And if you don’t mind sharing the place tonight, we’ll take off in the morning.”
“You don’t have to go. I feel badly about interrupting your...vacation.”
“We can talk about that over dinner. We were just going to barbecue some chicken, if that would be okay. You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”
“No. That would be great. But now I feel like I’m intruding.”
“No way! You’re the one with the invitation.”
He smiled warmly, a smile that reminded Lauren of Cassie, the shape of her mouth and the dimples. That smile made her feel welcome, made her feel that Eric’s friendly demeanor was sincere.
Once he had shown her around, she put her suitcase in the guest room and washed up in the adjoining bathroom. As she was putting her clothes in the closet, her phone rang. It was Cassie.
“You’re there?” she announced, her voice full of excitement.
“I’m here! Wonderful place. Not quite the little cottage you described.”
“I need to give you instructions. How to turn on the water heater, for instance. Where to find that special bottle of scotch.”
“The water heater is on. Turns out your son and his wife are here.”
“Oh. I had no idea. Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. I was actually glad to meet them. They’ve offered to clear out, but I think I might ask them to stay until you arrive.”
“Whatever you prefer. I thought you’d like a couple days alone to relax, maybe do some work.”
“I have a lot of alone time these days, so I think I might opt for the company. Besides, a young, straight couple. What a novelty!”
Cassie laughed. “Okay, then. I’ll see you on Saturday. I’m so excited. I can hardly believe you’re there in my house.”
“Me too. See you soon.”
Lauren slipped on a sweater and joined Eric and Adele on the patio where the chicken was already on the grill and Adele was seated at a glass-topped table. She was dressed in a long-sleeved blouse, capris and flip-flops. Her long brown hair, which had been loose before, was now pulled back and restrained with a large clip. An open bottle of shiraz, a large and colorful salad, and a stack of three plates were there as well, but Adele’s glass contained only water. Eric, who was tending the grill, had a glass of wine.
“The chicken smells wonderful,” Lauren said, taking the chair next to Adele.
“Do you drink?” Adele asked.
“I wouldn’t mind a glass of wine.”
“Oh, good,” Eric said cheerfully. “Somebody to drink with. Adele’s pregnant, so none for her.”
Lauren looked more carefully at Adele, recalling her svelte body from earlier, and concluded she was not very far along. She smiled, a little uncomfortably, it seemed. Did she guess Lauren was thinking about her naked?
Lauren poured herself some wine. “So Cassie’s going to be a grandmother.”
“Yes,” Adele said. “In seven months.”
“How exciting. Does she know?”
“No,” Eric said, turning the chicken with tongs. “I don’t think we’ve talked to her in a while, not since Christmas. Has it been that long, hon?”
“Not since Christmas, yes, I think that’s right.”
They had not gotten close, then, Lauren realized, with some misgiving for Cassie’s sake. As an only child, Cassie had no siblings either, so her family was very much on the lean side.
“You can tell her on Saturday,” Lauren suggested.
“If we stay.” Eric shut the lid on the grill.
“I’d like you to. If your plans allow it. It’s just two more days.”
Eric turned a questioning look toward Adele who said, “I don’t see why not. We can stay and see your mother. But I don’t expect her to be all that interested in the idea of a baby.”
“Why’s that?” Lauren asked.
“She’s just never been much for kids.”
“Not even her own,” Eric said matter-of-factly. He sat at the table and poured another glass of wine. “My mother didn’t raise me. I lived with my father and stepmother.”
“Yes, I knew that. But if she didn’t like kids, why’d she become a high school English teacher?”
“She liked English,” he said.
Adele looked at her stomach briefly, then said, “I can’t even imagine giving up my child. I mean, not being there to watch him learn things and grow and turn into a human person.”
“Some women don’t have the powerful mother instinct you do,” Eric said, taking her hand. “We both love kids. We’re planning a big family.”
It was interesting to hear someone other than Cassie talking about Cassie. Her version of this story was that she had given up her child for his sake, not because she didn’t want to raise him or didn’t have a maternal instinct.
“I work in a preschool,” Adele said. “I should be able to keep that up until the baby is born and then I’m going to stay home for a while. At least a year.”
“Sounds like the perfect arrangement,” Lauren said. “Don’t you also work with children, Eric?”
He nodded. “I’m a special investigator with Child Protective Services.”
“You look into child abuse cases, that sort of thing? Take kids out of dangerous homes?”
“Well, we try to keep them in their homes. It’s the best thing, to leave them with their parents and siblings. Then give the family counseling and whatever help they need to keep the family together. It’s heartbreaking to see what some of these kids have been living with. Sometimes we have no choice but to remove them. But no one wants to take children from their parents.”
“It’s a powerful bond,” Lauren observed. “The link between a parent and a child can survive a lot of injury.”
“Yes, it can,” he agreed wistfully. “I love my job, though, despite how hard it is to see what goes on in some homes.”
“It’s important work.” Lauren wondered what part, if any, Eric’s broken home had on his choice of career.
“So tell us about yourself,” Adele suggested brightly.
Lauren fingered the stem of her wine glass. “I live in Portland. I’m a retired civil servant. Department of Agriculture.”
“Retired,” Eric said. “You don’t look old enough.”
“Actually, I retired early. I’m now working as a freelance writer. Travel articles. For lifestyle magazines and newspa
pers. You know, where to go for a romantic weekend getaway. That sort of thing.”
“You could write an article about Cassie’s beach house.” Adele laughed at her joke.
Eric went to take the chicken off the grill. When Lauren tasted it, she was genuinely impressed.
“This is really good.” She took another bite. “What did you put on this?”
“It’s a dry rub,” Eric said. “Cumin, garlic powder, lemon pepper, some thyme, and just a tiny bit of cayenne.”
Lauren stopped eating to stare at Eric. “Nice. I’m surprised Cassie has such a well-stocked spice cupboard.”
“Oh, she doesn’t. I brought that with me. Mixed it up at home. I knew we’d be grilling quite a bit. When we’re here in the summer like this, we eat outdoors a lot. Don’t like to waste the view.”
“Eric does almost all the cooking in our house,” Adele said, smiling fondly at him. “He’s so much better at it than I am. My mother can’t get over how lucky I am to have found a man who likes to cook. She cooked all her life and hated every minute of it.”
“She’s jealous,” Eric smiled that smile again that reminded Lauren of Cassie. He turned to her and asked, “How do you know my mother?”
“We met on a cruise on the Yangtze River.”
“Her trip to China,” Eric said, “that was years ago. She was with Jennifer then, right?”
“Yes. It was ten years ago, actually. Then last month I ran into her by chance in the Denver airport. It was such a surprise, after all that time. I found out she had this place, that she was within driving distance. We decided to meet here and catch up.”
“So you haven’t seen her in ten years?” Eric asked.
“Other than the few minutes in the airport, no. I’m really excited about seeing her again.”
Adele stared, her expression one of delight and surprise. “Oh, my God,” she blurted, “this is such a romantic story!”
Since Lauren’s mouth was full of chicken, she shook her head and waved her fork before she was able to speak and say, “Oh, no, no, it’s nothing like that. Cassie and I are just friends.”