Bouncing

by Jaime Maddox

  “Is there a different med I can use? One that’s less dangerous?”

  “No. This is working. It’s the right drug. Why change something that works?”

  “I guess I don’t have much choice, do I?” The doctor was right. She felt good on the medication, but since she’d stopped, she had a little more stiffness and pain every day.

  “I know it’s scary to have this disease. But you’re lucky, too. We can treat this. A hundred years ago…I’m glad I didn’t have to practice medicine then.”

  Alex just stared at her.

  “The chances of getting sick are very, very, small. You can’t dwell on it, Alex. Take your medication, live your life. Every day is precious, for all of us, whether we have an autoimmune disease or not. You’re never getting today back. Make the most of it.”

  “I understand about today. But what about tomorrow? How many tomorrows do I have?”

  “How many do I have? None of us knows that, Alex. But you’re not terminal. Stop acting like you are.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Trick or Treat

  Brit followed the commands on her GPS deep into the forest, wondering if she’d made a mistake. This was a long way to drive just to get away from Alex, and she hoped she’d find her way home along these dark, deserted country roads.

  But she needed to get away from Alex. She needed a diversion. She was so attracted to Alex, and until the night she’d told Alex she was a virgin, she was fairly certain the feeling was mutual. Alex hadn’t handled that news well, though, and it had been a tough battle for Brit to appear unfazed by Alex’s rebuff. The attraction was still sizzling, which confused her. What was Alex really feeling? What was she really feeling? Until she decided what to do about it, she was trying to keep a little distance. A dozen times in the past weeks Brit had declined Alex’s offers for dinner after practice. Other than that one time, Alex hadn’t questioned her, and each time she graciously accepted the rejection as if it were of no consequence.

  And that was another problem. Brit wished it was of consequence for Alex. She wished she saw a question in Alex’s eyes, some bewilderment at the sudden rejections. She longed to see a sag of her shoulder indicating disappointment, or a frown, or a sigh of frustration—anything to show that she cared. But Alex showed no response, and in the last week, she actually seemed happier. She had a bounce in her step and a twinkle in her eye, and Brit wondered if she’d started dating someone. Or at least met someone. Alex’s actions proved that she meant nothing more than a potential fling, just like Anke.

  To get away from Alex, she’d decided to attend a Halloween party, where her friend Candace promised a plethora of single women with whom she could mingle. A fellow teacher, Candace and she had met the year before when she was student-teaching. Candace and her partner lived an hour away from Brit, and Brit had never met most of their friends. It was the perfect escape.

  Her GPS directed her to the appropriate driveway, and she was thrilled to see a dozen cars already there. She loved a big crowd, had always enjoyed talking to people and hearing stories. After parking, she followed the parade of jack-o’-lanterns to a chalet constructed of logs. Candace and her partner had built the home themselves, and she was eager to see their handiwork.

  A sign directed her to the sliding-glass doors around the back, across a fieldstone patio, and a petite brunette named Rose, who introduced herself as Candace’s partner, greeted her at the door. After taking her coat, Rose guided her toward the back of the room, where she saw Candace working behind a well-stocked bar.

  Along the way, they passed women shooting darts, shooting pool, shooting hoops, and playing air hockey. Others were seated at a sectional couch, talking, as a huge television played mutely in the background. A musical group Brit didn’t recognize provided the soundtrack to the numerous conversations occurring all around them. Memorabilia from every sport covered the walls. There were jerseys, pennants, framed balls, pictures, and posters, some old, some new. The room was the ultimate girl cave.

  Candace came out from behind the bar to hug her and immediately offered introductions to the three women who sat there, drinking beer and mixed drinks and munching goodies from the bowls of snacks on the shiny glass surface. “Nice.” A woman dressed as a police officer complimented her on her Minnie Mouse costume, and Brit blushed the color of her shoes as she saw the woman’s eyes follow her legs from the top of her skirt down to the shiny red pumps. She was tempted to run away, but she didn’t. She’d driven an hour to meet people, and she wasn’t leaving until she did.

  After regaining composure sufficient for speech, Brit spent a few minutes critiquing their costumes. The cop looked genuine, and a wicked thought flashed through Brit’s mind as she noted the handcuffs dangling at the woman’s hip. The wicked thought included Alex, and she quickly pushed it away. A hockey player’s costume was complete, from the blackened eye and missing teeth to the skates she was actually wearing. Hopefully the woman could handle her alcohol, but if she lost her balance and fell, the woman in scrubs could offer some first aid.

  The group was friendly and welcomed her to their conversation, which at the moment involved a debate over which female vocalist’s voice provided the most stimulating background for a romantic encounter. Candidates for the crown included a few women Britain had never heard, so she didn’t feel she could offer a fair vote, but the group agreed to throw out those few. Adele, Carrie Underwood, Faith Hill, Whitney Houston, Cher, Norah Jones, and Alicia Keys were all in the running. When the late Ms. Houston’s name was suggested, the police officer suggested an entirely new contest for the best late artist. The hospital-worker-in-scrubs pulled out a smartphone and began searching for demo songs, which prompted a call for yet a third contest—this one for a specific song to set the mood.

  As she laughed and debated with these three very funny women, Brit marveled at the luxury of feeling so relaxed in a social setting. She fit right in, no longer the round peg in the square hole. Just as she was congratulating herself on her decision to make the long drive to the party, Britain looked up and gasped.

  *

  Alex finished wiping the last of a dozen folding chairs and leaned it against the wall. She’d been assigned this job when it became apparent to Rose and Candace that this Halloween party was going to have a record attendance. Her job had been to trek through the yard to the pool house at the rear of the property and retrieve additional seating options for the partygoers. Her friend Erin had been transferring their hoard inside, while Alex was busy in the alcove adjacent to the rear doors, cleaning off several months’ accumulation of dust and cobwebs until the seats were suitable for use. After the crowd began arriving, the large basement had grown quite noisy, and Alex was enjoying the break away from the cacophony of music and voices.

  Two weeks after restarting her medication, she was beginning to feel human again. Doing physical work felt good after a month of difficulty with simple tasks like tying her shoes. But something was wrong, and she couldn’t name it. She didn’t feel sad, and in fact, she felt happier than she ever had in her life. Classes were going very well. Her team was going to be fantastic. She had a new friend named Brit who had an ability to make her heart pound in a most delightful way.

  The doctor’s words had been a great comfort to Alex, just the tonic she needed to soothe her spirit. She wasn’t dying. She needed to live.

  Could that life include someone like Brit? Since seeing her doctor, she’d been trying to find the courage to talk to her, but Brit was still avoiding her. Sure, they talked every day at school—but not about what was really important. They spent three hours every day, six days a week, either at practice or discussing practice. But every time Alex said those six words, “I need to talk to you,” Brit backed off like a frightened kitten. Now Alex spent most of her free time thinking about Brit in one way or another. In spite of her caution, Alex still thought Brit was feeling a similar attraction. The heat between them singed Alex. Everything she knew about women told
her it wasn’t one-sided. But had she blown her chances with Brit in that one moment of supreme insensitivity?

  Alex didn’t know what to think, or feel, and so when her friend Erin had called that afternoon to invite her to the party, she’d gladly accepted.

  Carrying the last two folding chairs, Alex followed the noise back into the great room and set them up near the couch. Then she had a seat and pulled a cold beer from the ice bucket conveniently located beside the couch. Two beers, that was the limit her doctor had given her, and she intended to enjoy them thoroughly. The group seated here consisted of her closest friends at home, a bunch of jocks with whom she’d been competing since she was a teenager. They’d all played softball together, and some of them still did, although Alex had given up the game in favor of her summers at the beach. Some played on the same basketball team, a few of them golfed, and all of them liked to hang out and watch sports. They were opinionated, vocal, sometimes crude, and always fun. Alex adored them.

  “So let’s do Rock-Paper-Scissors,” one friend suggested.

  Another waved a dismissive hand at the suggestion and frowned. “There’s too many of us. How about we pick names? We can use a hat.” Someone was dressed as a New York Yankee.

  “I see straws on the bar. We can draw straws,” someone else suggested.

  “Straws are good,” a few of them said.

  “What are you guys talking about?” Alex queried after taking a sip of her beer. Apparently she’d missed something important while she’d been on chair duty.

  “We’ve spotted an unidentified hottie at the bar. We’re devising a fair plan to see who’ll get to talk to her first.”

  Alex turned her head in the direction of the bar, and her heart skipped a beat as she looked into Britain’s beautiful blue eyes. She sucked in a very loud breath.

  Her friends laughed. “That’s what we said, too, Alex,” someone commented, but Alex was too distracted to notice who it was.

  “So, I’ll get the straws,” another offered.

  Rising, Alex stopped her friend. “Oh, no, you don’t. This one’s off limits.” Without saying another word, she walked across the room, her eyes locked into Brit the entire time. They’d just seen each other hours before, at their nine a.m. practice, yet the unexpected sight of Brit here sent Alex off balance. When she reached the bar, Alex instinctively opened her arms and drew Brit into a hug. Protective, possessive, she pulled her close and was startled. Brit’s body against her felt good, right. Alex forced herself to shorten their contact before the heat set her on fire.

  Pushing Brit back a few inches, Alex surveyed Brit and then once again met her eyes. “Hello, Ms. Mouse. You look quite adorable this evening. Talk about a small world.”

  Brit nodded and forced a smile. “It is indeed, Captain.” Brit couldn’t believe her luck. Bad luck. She wanted to meet people, to meet women. To forget about Alex Dalton, the very one who had swaggered across the room as if she owned it, looking sexy as hell in a pirate’s costume. The one who made her mouth dry and other places very, very wet. The one who spun her head and electrified every one of her senses. The one who had bedded so many women she’d been mortified to the point of speechlessness when she learned of Brit’s inexperience.

  “So what brings you here?” Alex asked.

  “Oh, I just needed a change of scenery.”

  “Are you alone?”

  She might have been embarrassed if someone else had posed the question, embarrassed that she’d had so very few dates in her life, but in answering Alex, she felt no shame. Alex already knew the truth, so what did it matter? She was, in fact, relieved that she was alone.

  “Yes.” Alex touched her arm and a spark seemed to shoot through her. It was not a welcome jolt.

  Since timing is everything, Candace returned to the bar at that moment, accompanied by another woman dressed as Sponge Bob, sparing Brit from any further intimacy with Alex. She just couldn’t handle it. Why did Alex affect her so? Brit glanced at the newcomer. A handsome face, with dark features and a wide smile, was the only physical feature evident in the bulky costume, other than height, which Brit noted was about the same as Alex’s. Why did she compare everyone to Alex?

  “Brit, I want you to meet my friend Marissa. Mar, this is my friend Britain.”

  Alex stepped back reluctantly as Candace and Marissa encroached on the personal space she’d been sharing with Brit. And I’m Alex, she thought, but held her tongue. This was obviously more than a casual introduction, and Alex was unsure if Candace, Brit, or both had planned this meeting. Knowing how things had been going with Brit, none of the options would have surprised her.

  “Very nice to meet you.” Brit’s tone was friendly, as always.

  “This is my friend, Alex,” Candace offered reluctantly. And then, before Alex could even respond, she felt the firm pressure of Candace’s grip on her elbow, leading her away. “Let’s get a few more chairs, A,” Candace suggested.

  “What the fuck?” Alex asked when they were out of earshot. “We were talking!”

  “Don’t go there, Alex. Do. Not. Go. There.”

  Alex pulled up and turned to face Candace. “What are you talking about? She’s my new assistant coach.”

  A hand flew to Candace’s mouth. “Oh, A. I’m so sorry. I thought you were putting the moves on her, and I’d promised Mar I’d introduce her. I didn’t know.”

  Alex was stunned. Offended. Humiliated. “And what if I was putting the moves on her? Are you some sort of guardian angel or something?”

  “A, don’t even joke about it. Britain is a nice girl. The last thing she needs is a player like you.”

  Alex shook her head in disbelief. “Oh, thanks, friend. Is that what you think of me?”

  Candace looked sorry, sort of. She screwed her face into a look that begged forgiveness and extended her arms, palms up. “Well, Alex, you do have somewhat of a reputation.”

  Alex was silent. After all, what could she say? Candace spoke the truth. “There are no more chairs,” she said, changing the subject.

  “Oh, that’s okay. We don’t need anymore. I just wanted to get you away from Britain.”

  Alex didn’t speak. She just turned and walked away, toward the back of the house, through the alcove, and out onto the patio beside the pool. A significant part of their acreage had been cleared to allow for Rose and Candace’s swimming pool. The missing canopy of trees allowed in the light of a bright moon and a million stars, and as she leaned against a lamppost, Alex glanced up toward them. It was a spectacular sight, and as she stood contemplating Candace’s stinging barbs, she barely heard the door sliding open behind her, the soft steps of the woman gliding up beside her. Only when the heat of Brit’s hand seared her shoulder did she return to earth. She whirled around to see who’d joined her but instinctively knew it was Brit even before she saw her. She quickly turned her eyes back to the sky.

  “Are you okay?” Britain asked her. “What happened?”

  “Oh, nothing. I’m fine. Just needed a little fresh air.”

  “Good. I was worried.” Brit sighed but didn’t move her hand, then followed Alex’s gaze. “Wow! What a view.”

  Alex looked down, away from the stars to Brit’s beautiful face, and then, before she could stop herself, before Candace’s words could shackle her or her own insecurity could paralyze her, she pivoted and seized Britain’s shoulders. She stepped forward and pulled Britain toward her, claiming her lips as she’d wanted to since the day they met.

  Brit’s lips were soft, and warm, and as her tongue peeked through them, they were suddenly wet and welcoming. Alex dropped her hands to circle Brit’s waist and pulled her closer. Flames of fire, flames of desire shot from Alex’s feet to the top of her head, and she seemed to melt in the heat, molding her body in an embrace that seemed to weld their separate forms into one.

  She collapsed against Brit, and they held each other upright. Brit’s tongue was inside her mouth, tickling hers, then on her lips, teasing them, too.
Alex fought to control the beating of her heart as it pounded in her chest.

  Their lips eased apart, yet they stayed connected, their foreheads meeting and their arms clinging as their breaths came in desperate gasps. Alex was weak with desire. She’d never wanted anyone more.

  “Why?” Brit whispered after a moment.

  This wasn’t the question or the command she’d expected after such an earth-shattering kiss. “Huh?” Alex stammered, confused by the intoxicating kiss and the intoxicating woman and the strange question.

  “Why did you kiss me?” Now Britain pulled back and in the faint light looked expectantly at Alex. “What do you want?”

  Alex ran a hand through her hair, jumbled thoughts running through her mind. What kind of question was that? “What do you mean?” She paused, then said simply, “I want you.”

  Britain groaned. The kiss had left her dizzy and definitely longing for more. The proof of her desire was tangible in her weak knees and wet sex. She wanted Alex. So why was she fighting her feelings? Alex had proven to be more than the woman on the boardwalk in Rehoboth. She’d become a friend. A playmate. Brit knew if she said the word, they could be lovers, too. Maybe it was time to stop avoiding Alex and talk to her, see where this might lead. If not, she’d go mad simply from the memory of the kiss they’d just shared.

  A relationship with Alex was a risk, like driving the lane with the ball in her hands. She could miss the shot and lose the game. She could get flattened by the opposing center and sent sprawling to the floor. Or she could make the basket and be a winner.

  Trophies and awards on her parents’ mantel proved she’d been a winner on the basketball court. They’d once made her feel important, accomplished. None of them really mattered anymore. She wanted and needed something more, and that something was standing before her, not even playing defense. It seemed that Brit just had to make an uncontested layup. Did she have the courage to take the shot?