Something to Believe

by Robbi McCoy

  Lauren opened the door to the living room. “Lunch is served.”

  “It’s about time!” Cassie complained.

  Eric stood and offered her his arm. The two of them walked together into the kitchen, both of them smiling. Eric glanced toward Lauren and winked.

  “He’s turned into such a good person,” Cassie said after Eric left. “I’m vindicated, I think. That’s what I told him. Look how good you turned out being raised by your father.”

  “I hope that’s not all you told him.”

  “No. I told him how hard it was for me to make that decision. I told him about my brief, aborted attempt to take custody. I told him what you wanted me to tell him, Lauren.”

  “I’ve been meddling, haven’t I?”

  “It’s okay. Maybe we needed someone meddling.”

  “Did it help?”

  Cassie pressed her lips together thoughtfully, then said, “I’m not sure. I guess we’ll find out, won’t we? When I move here, we won’t be that far away from one another. Who knows? Maybe I’ll end up with a tricycle and swing set in the yard.”

  “I think he wants to have a relationship with you.”

  “I think you’re right. And that makes two of us. I appreciate what you did. He seems to respect your opinion.”

  By the second day at home, Cassie felt stronger and was no longer content to stay on the couch. After lunch she sat in the front room reading Lauren’s article, which was near enough to completion to undergo a critique. Lauren put a stack of old records on the turntable to play low in the background as she cleaned the kitchen. Then she made them both a cup of tea.

  “Thanks,” Cassie said, looking up from the manuscript to take the cup. “Just finished with this.”

  Lauren sat in one of the deep-cushioned chairs. “What do you think?”

  “I think it’s wonderful. You’ve made it sound much more fun than it actually was.” She laughed at herself, then set down the manuscript.

  “I hope you’re joking,” Lauren said.

  “Yes. Well, a little. It’s very good. I especially liked your description of the Russian bakery and that little old woman running the place. What a character! And your write-up of the mushroom place makes me wish I hadn’t missed it. It’s a delightful article…and practical.”

  “Thanks. No changes?”

  “I made a couple of notes in the margins. You’ll see. Small things.”

  Lauren nodded, sipping her tea. In the moment that followed, as Sarah Vaughn sang “The Look of Love,” they gazed steadily at one another until Cassie set her cup down on the table and turned a serious expression toward Lauren.

  “Look,” she said, “you’ve been a terrific help the last few days. It was so generous of you to rush right back here when Eric called you. He shouldn’t have done that.”

  “He didn’t ask me to come,” Lauren explained. “He was just calling to report what had happened. I came because I wanted to.”

  “That was really nice of you. I think I’m good to go now, though. I can manage on my own. It’s just a broken arm. Besides, I won’t be here more than a few more days. I need to get back to work. I’ve already been here a week longer than planned and my office is starting to get frantic.”

  Lauren realized with dismay that she was being sent away.

  “As much as I enjoy your company,” Cassie continued, “we’ll soon be back where we were. There’s no point going through that again. I was actually really depressed when you left before. It’s better if you go now. Your whole thing about wanting us to be friends, it’s just—”

  She broke off, looking pained. Lauren had almost forgotten that Cassie didn’t know everything had changed. She’d been having such a good time inhabiting the house with her like an established old married couple that it had seemed like they’d just moved into a new phase of intimacy without ever discussing it.

  She got up from her chair and came to sit beside Cassie, looking purposefully into her eyes.

  “Cassie, I love you,” she said. “I love you so much. You were right. Being just friends is impossible for us. I had it in my head that a romantic relationship would destroy our friendship. That was stupid. There was never any choice for us but this.” Lauren pressed Cassie’s hand to her lips.

  She looked stunned. “Are you saying you do want to be with me?”

  Lauren nodded as she noticed the song that was playing. Well, that’s timely, she thought.

  “‘Fascination,’” Cassie said. “It’s our song, isn’t it?”

  Lauren took Cassie’s face in both hands and kissed her mouth tenderly. That felt so good, she did it again, then slipped her arms around Cassie’s body and kissed her more deeply. Cassie’s mouth responded willingly. A wave of warmth spread out from Lauren’s center to her limbs. She recognized desire returning. It had never really gone away. It had been lying dormant.

  When they broke apart, Cassie said, “I’ve dreamt of kissing you like that so many times this seems almost unreal to me.”

  “Let me see if I can make it seem more real,” Lauren offered, holding her tighter and closing her mouth over Cassie’s. She held on with her one good arm and returned the kisses with an eager insistence that sent Lauren’s head spinning.

  There was a time, years ago, when she had imagined this kind of intimacy with Cassie and told herself it was wrong to do so, wrong even to think it. But she no longer heard the stern charge of denial. Now all she heard were Cassie’s murmurs of pleasure and her own matching inner voice, urging her onward toward love…and life.

  Chapter Forty-One

  “Faith’s article on Sky Mountain is beautiful,” Emma told Lauren over the phone. “I really want to include it. I don’t see why she didn’t put it in her first book. She loved this story and it fit the content perfectly.”

  Lauren stood in front of Cassie’s house, leaning against her car and gazing out at the ocean. “Because she never got there to see it. That was a rule she had for herself. It was okay to mention it as an example, but to highlight it like that, to build a whole chapter around it, she would have had to have the first-hand experience.”

  “Do you think we could use it anyway?” Emma asked. “Her research was thorough. How much would have been gained by a first-hand observation?”

  “It’s not the science. It’s the details. The atmosphere. She liked to include first-person anecdotes and her own impressions. It was important to her to feel a place. That was her style. I don’t think it will sound like her without that.”

  “You’re right. It’s one of the things that makes her writing so evocative. I guess I’ll have to leave it out. Oh, there’s one other thing. I’d like you to write an introduction to this book if you would. I think it will be a moving tribute.”

  Lauren lowered the phone, feeling suddenly unable to respond.

  “Lauren,” Emma prompted. “Lauren, are you there?”

  She brought the phone back up. “Yes. Thank you. I’d love to do it.”

  “Great. We’ll talk more about that after you read what I’ve done so far. No hurry, though. You can do it when you get back to Portland.”

  “Actually, I’m coming home today. Why don’t you send me what you’ve got so far and I’ll try to read it in the next couple days.”

  “Perfect. Lauren, I want to thank you again for giving me this opportunity. I’ve always wanted to do something to show Faith how much I appreciated everything she did for me. I just didn’t know what I could do. This project has been so right for me, to honor her memory. I think she’d approve.”

  Lauren swallowed, holding back an upswell of emotion. “Approve? Emma, she’d holler and whoop for joy. You know how much she loved attention.”

  She heard Emma’s short laugh and could tell she was also choked up.

  Lauren realized, as she acknowledged a tender sympathy for Emma, that she no longer had any anger toward her. She felt a unity with her because of their shared goal, as well as their shared sense of loss.

  “E
mma,” she asked, “are you going to be home later today? Say around one?”

  “I could be.”

  “Eugene is on my way. Would it be okay if I stopped by? I have something to give you.”

  “Oh, okay, sure.” Emma sounded uncertain.

  “I’ll see you later, then. Bye.”

  Lauren walked into the house where Cassie was depositing her suitcase just inside the front door. She looked ready to go. Their extraordinary few days had come to an end. This was as long as she could possibly delay, Cassie had decided, without her business collapsing into disarray and her partner going berserk.

  “I’ll carry that to the car for you,” Lauren offered.

  “Thanks. And thanks for giving me a ride to the airport. I think everything’s buttoned up here.”

  Lauren reached over and buttoned Cassie’s coat. “Including you.”

  She smiled. “Buttons are a little challenging with one hand.”

  Lauren put her arms loosely around Cassie and kissed her. Cassie responded with quickening passion in the manner Lauren had come to know well. They stood in a tight embrace inside the doorway, kissing for two or three minutes, during which Lauren’s body lurched and flipped and begged for more. They had spent the last two days in bed, learning one another’s bodies, learning one another’s hearts, and yet Lauren was far from satisfied. Desire is like that. It can go into hiding for years without even peeking out, but once you crack open the door, it’s ravenous.

  Finally, she disengaged herself and said, “I hate to say goodbye.”

  “Me too. It always has been so hard to say goodbye to you. Even worse this time. The last couple of days have been magical.”

  “They have.” Lauren remembered that last day in China when they were both trying so hard not to cry. “But it’s different now. This time we have so much to look forward to. And it won’t be for long. I’ll be down there first week of October.”

  “And Thanksgiving and Christmas?”

  Lauren shrugged. “Either place. Or maybe you’ll have managed by then to set up your new practice here.”

  “I’ll definitely try, but that’s just a few months from now. Maybe we should go somewhere for the holidays. Take a trip.”

  “Yes, we could do that. Go somewhere south of the equator. I’ve always liked the idea of traveling to summer.”

  “Let’s keep that in mind.” Cassie kissed her softly on the lips one more time. “I guess we should be going.”

  Lauren nodded, then picked up the suitcase and carried it to the car.

  After dropping Cassie off at the airport, she headed inland toward Emma’s home in Eugene. She hadn’t planned this visit, but it seemed right—the right time, the right thing to do.

  She parked in front of a two-story townhouse with a tiny strip of lawn in front, planted with healthy Kentucky bluegrass and edged with beds of azaleas and dahlias, none of them blooming this time of year.

  Emma opened the door immediately and asked her inside, saying, “Can I get you something? Iced tea or anything?”

  “No, thanks. I’m not going to stay long. Just a few minutes, then I need to be on my way home.”

  “Well, at least sit down for a minute.” Emma pointed her to a comfortable looking chair in the front room.

  As she sat, Lauren noticed the tribal artwork in the room—masks, small statues and a few drums—all of them typical Northwest Coast style.

  “Sorry for inviting myself over,” she said, “but this is something I needed to do in person.”

  Lauren waited for Emma to sit in the other, similar chair. She felt awkward and Emma seemed nervous, no doubt unable to discern the reason behind this impromptu visit. Lauren decided to just plunge in.

  “Before Faith died,” she began, “she wrote letters to a lot of people, saying goodbye, saying thank you, that sort of thing. She wrote to people who were important to her. Including you.”

  Emma looked confused. “Me?”

  “Yes. She wrote you a letter.” Lauren took the envelope from her pocket and held it between both her hands, still a little reluctant to let it go. “She didn’t have a current address for you, so it was returned. But…it belongs to you.”

  Lauren handed the envelope over. Emma took it in her long fingers and turned it face up to read the address, as if to verify that it was actually intended for her. She undoubtedly noticed the envelope had been opened.

  “I see why it wasn’t forwarded,” she said. “This was my Spring Street address. I sold that place about four years ago.”

  Lauren met Emma’s eye, then said, “The letter came back shortly before she died. Then, later, I read it. Which I shouldn’t have done. I won’t make excuses for myself. It’s just what I did.”

  “Oh,” Emma said, her tone unaccusing. “Well, I might have done the same.”

  Lauren continued. “When you contacted me last month and came to the house, I should have at least given it to you then. But I didn’t. I didn’t want to give it to you because I didn’t want you to know—”

  “To know what?” Emma asked.

  “I’m sorry. Why don’t you just read it?”

  Emma held the envelope for a moment, then looked up at Lauren, who smiled encouragingly at her. Then she opened it and extracted the printed page.

  What a strange thing, Lauren thought, to get a letter from a woman who had been dead for two years. What a gift, in many ways, especially for Emma who had wanted so much to please Faith, who had wanted her approval and her love. The letter would give her both. A belated validation, but one Lauren was certain would be welcome.

  Emma read slowly with her head bent over the page. When she had finished, she looked at Lauren, her bright blue eyes awash with tears. They both sat there silently looking at one another for a moment. Then Emma stood and came and wrapped her arms around Lauren’s neck and they hugged each other and shared a moment of grief and gratitude.

  Emma stepped back. “Thank you for giving it to me. I can understand why you didn’t want to.”

  “It seems kind of silly to me now, that I was jealous. I don’t blame Faith for being attracted to you. I used to think that took something away from me. But it didn’t. It didn’t have anything to do with me.”

  Emma smiled. “I never knew how she felt. She never let on.”

  “Good!” Lauren stood. “I have a feeling you would have been a lot more persistent if you had known.”

  “Maybe so.” Emma wiped her eyes. “But if I had known you, I think maybe I wouldn’t have. I used to think you were so damned lucky to have nabbed Faith. Sort of like you must have caught her in a weak moment, you know? But since I’ve gotten to know you, I realize she was lucky too. I’m really glad it turned out the way it did. I’m not just saying that. I think the two of you were a very special couple.”

  Lauren smiled, feeling both sad and thankful.

  They walked toward the door. “I’ll be anxious to hear what you think of the book,” Emma said.

  “I’ll call you when I’ve had a look. A few ideas are already brewing in my mind about the introduction. I hope you know how big an assignment that is for me.”

  Emma nodded. “Oh, I know it will be a challenge. But you’re up to it.”

  Lauren felt light-hearted as she left Eugene and headed home. She thought working with Emma was going to be a lot easier now. Maybe they might even become friends. They had a few things in common, after all.

  At three o’ clock, she pulled into a MacDonald’s and briefly considered having a salad, but then ordered a cheeseburger and fries instead. She took her lunch outside to a round metal table and called Cassie, knowing she would be at LAX waiting for her connecting flight.

  “Hi, Baby!” Cassie answered excitedly.

  Cassie sounded like she hadn’t seen her in ages. Lauren smiled. “Hi, Baby, yourself. How’s L.A.?”

  “Never rains.”

  “You sound happy.”

  “I am happy. I’m in love with a beautiful girl. And best of all, she’s
in love with me. I hope she’s happy too.”

  “Yes, she is. She’s insanely happy.” Lauren ate a French fry.

  “Seems all right, then. Did you see Emma?”

  “I did. I gave her the letter.”

  “Good. I’ll bet she was happy to get it.”

  “Oh, yes. Everyone who got one of those letters was happy to get it. Those were damned good letters! They’d bring anybody to tears. They were so heartfelt.”

  “Did Emma’s bring her to tears?”

  “Yes. I think she really loved Faith.”

  “How does that make you feel?”

  Lauren hesitated, dragging a French fry through a puddle of ketchup. “Closer to her.”

  “Hey, not too close, I hope.”

  Lauren smiled, recognizing Cassie’s counterfeit display of jealousy. “Nothing to worry about. She’s not my type. Too much like me.”

  “So you’re okay?”

  “Yes. I’m fine. Except that I miss you terribly.”

  “I know! Me too. Let’s start planning a trip together right away.”

  “We’ve always done that, you know? Planned our next trip together before the current one is done.”

  “We need something to look forward to. But, seriously, Lauren, let’s go away for the holidays. I don’t really like doing holiday things over the holidays. I like your idea about traveling to summer. Can’t we do Christmas somewhere summery? What do you say? We can pretend it’s July and go scuba diving or something.”

  “All right. I’m game. But, you know, when you’re a grandmother, you might actually have to do Christmas for Christmas.”

  “Well, I’m not a grandmother yet. This year we can do whatever we damn well please. Deep sea fishing in Baja. Surfing in Hawaii. Drinking rum punch on a Caribbean beach.”

  Lauren was about to put another fry in her mouth when a thought struck her and her hand froze halfway there. A chill ran up her spine.

  “Australia,” she said.