Tomorrow's Promise

by Radclyffe

  “Constance,” Adrienne began, moved by Constance’s compassion, “there are some things you may not be aware of. Tanner is young; she has a lifetime ahead of her. She is still finding her way—in her heart and in the world. She deserves a future as bright as her spirit, and I don't think that future is with me.” Adrienne stopped, torn by her own words. She believed what she said, but, god, how it hurt!

  “There are not many things I am unaware of, Adrienne,” Constance said softly, placing her hand gently on Adrienne's arm. “I hope you’ll forgive him, but Admiral Evans has been a dear friend of mine for many years. He spoke to me, in confidence of course, but I am aware of your difficulties.”

  Adrienne grimaced bitterly. “Then you must know how little I have to offer Tanner.”

  Constance spoke softly, lost in memory. “Time is an elusive element. Sometimes an hour with someone you love very deeply feels like a lifetime. It seems to me now, looking back, that I loved Charles for an eternity. Measured in years, it was not long, but the emotions we shared sustain me still. I would not change the choices I made in my life because things turned out differently than I had hoped. I believe that in that way, Tanner is like me.”

  Tanner, watching Adrienne and her mother from the doorway, heard her mother's quiet words. She realized for the first time what the last ten years must have been like for her, and she was embarrassed at how often she had shut her mother out of her life. She could imagine her mother's anguish so much more now as she contemplated the agony of losing Adrienne. “Mother,” she said softly, crossing the wide porch toward them.

  Constance turned, her face alight with the pleasure she always drew from her daughter’s presence. “Have you made the drinks, love?”

  Tanner nodded, her eyes on her mother’s clear brown eyes, her throat tight with long ago tears. “I hope I’ve succeeded in repeating the secret Whitley recipe.”

  Constance laughed, slipping her arm around Tanner’s waist. “Some things, my dear, are inborn. Let’s test the theory, shall we?”

  They went inside where Tom and Alicia joined them. Both officers had changed into leisure clothes. Tom looked trim and athletically attractive, while Alicia appeared softer and almost seductive in her silk blouse and slacks. The group settled into casual conversation as they sipped the drinks Tanner provided. When dinner was served, they enjoyed the meal from a dining room that overlooked the water. Tom Hardigan quickly engaged Constance in conversation, questioning her on the island’s development and the Whitley family history. Adrienne told Alicia of the summer events and caught up on news of friends from California. Tanner, sitting across the table from Adrienne, joined in both conversations occasionally, her eyes studying Adrienne and Alicia together. She wondered how much remained of the life they had shared together, and the love. They were obviously still close, and she fought the jealousy that she knew stemmed from fear. Fear that Adrienne would leave her—fear that what she had to offer Adrienne was not as strong as the pull of the life Adrienne had known.

  After dinner Constance and Tom retired to the verandah to enjoy the breeze and the view, leaving Adrienne, Tanner and Alicia alone at the table.

  Alicia leaned back in her chair and sighed. “I can certainly see why you’ve grown so fond of this place, Adrienne. The island—like its inhabitants—is very beautiful.”

  Adrienne looked from Alicia to Tanner and nodded. “Yes,” she said softly, "quite beautiful."

  Alicia continued, noting the flush that stole over Tanner’s cheeks, continued quickly, “Adrienne, I’d love for you to show me the beach." She gave Tanner a thin smile. "Would you mind very much if I took Adrienne away for a while, Tanner?”

  Tanner stood up slowly, her eyes meeting Alicia’s blue ones coldly. “Not at all. For a while.” She touched Adrienne’s shoulder lightly and left the room.

  Adrienne and Alicia were silent as they threaded their way across the dunes toward the beach. When they reached the water’s edge, they stood watching the waves break, their bodies buffeted by the wind.

  “I’m glad to see you,” Alicia said softly, slipping her arm through Adrienne’s. “I’ve missed you these last six months.”

  “I’ve missed you, too.”

  “You know why I’ve come, don’t you?” Alicia continued.

  “You’re both rather obvious,” Adrienne responded, beginning to walk.

  “Oh, we both want you to come back, of course. But, it’s more than that. I want you to come home.”

  Adrienne stopped abruptly. “Come home?”

  Alicia smiled wistfully, “Yes, Adrienne, I want you to come home—with me, to me.” She hurried on before Adrienne could protest. “Oh, I know I’ve acted badly. I didn’t know how to cope—so I made a mess of things. I’ve done a lot of thinking. I think I can do better now. I’d like you to give me another chance.”

  Adrienne turned to face the woman she had spent so much of her life loving, and her heart softened. “Alicia, nothing has changed. I’m still the same. I haven’t miraculously been made whole again.”

  “But I’ve changed,” Alicia said, stepping close to Adrienne, her hands clasping Adrienne’s arms. “I love you still—I always have. I want us to be together again. I know we were good together. We have the house, and all our plans.”

  “Those things may never happen now,” Adrienne said harshly, knowing it was time to say what had never been said between them. “I may not be able to do all the things we once planned. I may not have the time.”

  Alicia shook her head stubbornly. “But we have memories, Adrienne. We have a past together. Don’t turn your back on those. No matter what happens, you would be with someone who knows you and who cares about you.”

  “Memories,” Adrienne said softly. “Oh, yes, we have memories. Don’t think I’ve forgotten, Alicia. I haven’t. I never could. But, I’m not sure I want to spend whatever time remains to me hiding in safe memories.”

  Alicia tilted her head up, her lips close to Adrienne’s. “Don’t you love me anymore?”

  Adrienne felt an overwhelming tenderness for this woman she had held so many nights. They had loved together, grown together, struggled together, and finally come to a harsh parting. “Love you?” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Of course I love you. How could I not love you? I know you like I know my own skin—there’s a part of my heart that will always belong to you.”

  Alicia stepped back from her and studied Adrienne’s face intently. “But you don’t love me in quite the same way any longer, do you?”

  Adrienne was silent for a moment. “No,” she said at last.

  Alicia was shaken by the finality in Adrienne’s voice, but she knew if she relented now it truly would be over. “Do you love this girl so much it can erase everything we’ve been to each other? Everything we’ve shared?” she asked sharply.

  “No one could ever do that,” Adrienne said, meaning it. “But I love her. God, how I love her! I’m sorry if that hurts you, Alicia, but it’s the truth. She moves me in ways I didn’t think possible any longer. I can see forever in her eyes.” She stopped suddenly, realizing it was the first time she had admitted her feelings, even to herself.

  “That’s not very fair to her, is it?” Alicia said harshly. “You know as well as I how tenuous forever might be. Especially for you.”

  Adrienne recoiled, stung by the words, but knowing them to be true. She looked out into a night sky so black even the stars were obscured. Her heart ached for some surcease. "I know it’s selfish of me to want her. I know! But she makes it so easy to love her. When we’re together, tomorrow doesn’t seem so very important.”

  “Not to you, perhaps. But what about her? She'll get over you if you leave now, but the longer you stay the harder it will be if --" Alicia stopped, unable to say it. She finished quietly, "What will happen to her then?”

  Adrienne's voice was hollow. “I don’t know. I haven’t wanted to think about it.”

  “Let her go, Adrienne—for her sake. I can accept that
you feel differently about me now. I don’t care. I am so lonely without you. I can live without the passion, but I can’t live without you in my life. We could be happy together, even without the physical things. We have friendship, that hasn’t changed. Come home where you’re safe, at least. Let Tanner get on with her life.”

  Adrienne turned to Alicia, tormented by conflicting emotions. Leave Tanner? How could she leave Tanner, when she was the only thing that meant anything in her life? But was it asking too much, that Tanner risk her future on someone who might not be able to share it with her? She knew Alicia cared for her, that she accepted whatever might happen. How could she ask Tanner to do the same?

  “Perhaps you’re right. I don’t know; I can’t decide now. Give me time,” Adrienne said at last.

  Alicia smiled in relief and took Adrienne’s hand, “Of course, love. I’ll wait.”

  It was a beginning.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  TANNER LAY IN the still darkness, awake. When finally she heard Adrienne’s steps on the stone path to her bungalow, she closed her eyes, waiting.

  Adrienne entered softly, closing the door carefully behind her and snapping the lock. She crossed the room to the bed where Tanner lay naked in the hot August night, outlined in moonlight. Tanner’s back was to her, the contour of her hips and breasts as sweepingly graceful as the dunes. Adrienne undressed quickly and lay down beside her, pressing close. She slipped an arm around her waist and nestled her face in Tanner’s hair. She kissed the base of Tanner’s neck tenderly as she cradled one breast in her hand.

  Tanner remained motionless as Adrienne gathered her as completely as possible. She felt Adrienne’s tears on her own cheeks and willed her peace with all the strength of her love. She was awake long after Adrienne's tears had stopped, wondering which of them Adrienne had cried for.

  When Tanner awoke, Adrienne was gone. She lay still for a long time, remembering Adrienne’s touch, achingly aware of how empty her days would be without Adrienne beside her. She had always known what she risked in loving Adrienne—she had seen the loneliness in her mother’s eyes too many times not to know. It had never mattered. She didn’t want a guarantee; she wanted Adrienne—now, today, and for all the tomorrows they might share.

  She rose and threw on her clothes. She ran out into bright sunlight, and hurried southward. With each crest of windswept sand she searched the shore for Adrienne’s familiar figure. She scrambled up the path to Adrienne’s house and knocked hard enough to shake the door in its frame. The house was empty, and when Tanner walked around to the drive, she saw that Adrienne’s car was gone. She considered going to look for her, but she knew it was pointless. She had said all she could. Adrienne must fight her demons alone.

  * * *

  Adrienne sailed out to the quiet cove where she and Tanner had spent so many afternoons – swimming, talking, making love. She dropped anchor, climbed up onto the bow, and watched the clouds stream across blue skies so perfect it was painful. She followed the waves as they dwindled into soft tongues of froth along the shoals. Her thoughts were all of Tanner, and every now and then she smiled at some memory. She missed her, especially here on the boat, where Tanner was in her element -- often moving about shirtless, diving into the cool clear waters, climbing out to lie indolently in the sun. Adrienne had been content to sit for hours, her fingers entwined in Tanner’s, doing nothing more than listening to her breathe.

  She looked back over the magical months since she had first arrived on Whitley Point, and all the joy that Tanner had given her. It was more than she had ever hoped to have again, and in many ways, more than she had ever known before. Tanner's love had come at a time when she had forgotten how to dream, and for those brief weeks together, she had been blessed. She was, indeed, a lucky woman. Finally, she turned the craft toward home; her decision was made.

  When she drove up the familiar lane toward the house she now considered home, she sensed Tanner was waiting. She climbed slowly up the outside steps to the deck, rehearsing what she would say. Tanner was sitting in the sun in a lounge chair, her head back, one arm curled over her head, partially shading her face. Adrienne stood for a moment, taking in every detail of her. She would remember each feature, she knew, for all eternity.

  Adrienne brushed the tousled hair back from Tanner’s forehead, her fingers lingering for a moment. Tanner's face was pale, and she trembled slightly. “How long have you been here?” Adrienne asked.

  “All day,” Tanner said quietly. She stood up and they both moved to the railing, facing the ocean. They stood close together, but did not touch. “You’re going to leave, aren’t you?” Tanner said at last, her voice strained.

  “Yes,” Adrienne responded softly.

  “Why?”

  Adrienne looked away, choosing her words carefully. She wanted to leave no room for argument. She knew she had to convince Tanner beyond any doubt—and she knew only one way.

  “I want to go home, Tanner. I want to go back to Alicia, to the life I knew. That’s where I belong—it’s where I’ve always belonged. This summer has been like a fantasy—a wonderful fantasy, but it’s ended for me. It’s over.” She said the words she had planned to say, closing her heart to the pain in Tanner’s face.

  Tanner gripped the rail tightly and swallowed, suddenly dizzy. “Do you love Alicia?”

  “Yes.”

  Tanner turned to her then, her eyes searching Adrienne’s face. “And me?”

  Adrienne could not answer while she looked into Tanner’s wounded eyes. She looked away and replied, “I care for you, Tanner, you know that. But, it’s not love—it’s passion, perhaps, but it’s not the kind of love I need to live on. I’m sorry.”

  Tanner shuddered as if she had been struck. She had been so wrong! All this time. She forced out the next words, trying to keep from screaming. “I see. Will you call me before you go?”

  Adrienne very nearly relented at that moment. It was agony to witness Tanner's torment, and to know that she was causing it. She wanted to hold her so badly, and to heal the hurt she had created.

  “It would be best if we said good-bye now,” Adrienne answered, her voice low.

  Tanner gasped. It was too much. She grasped Adrienne’s arms, her face wet with tears. “Adrienne, please! You can’t mean this! You can't!”

  I have to stop this! Adrienne stepped back firmly, breaking Tanner’s hold on her. “Go home, Tanner. Please, it’s over—just let it go.”

  Tanner stared at her for a moment, and then she was taking the stairs two at time down to the beach. In a moment, she was gone. Adrienne slumped against the rail, exhausted. She had done it. And now she must leave - quickly.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CONSTANCE SAW TANNER running hard up the beach and then heard the door of her bungalow slam shut. A few moments later her car careened down the drive and out of view. Constance’s heart ached for her daughter, and she despaired that she could not comfort her.

  She walked out onto the verandah and found Tom Hardigan there, elbows on the rail, a faraway look on his face.

  “Am I disturbing you?” Constance asked quietly.

  He turned to greet her, smiling, then shook his head ruefully. “No, of course not. I was just thinking—or trying to.”

  Constance nodded and stood beside him, strangely comfortable. At last she spoke. “I have a feeling Adrienne will be going back with you and Alicia.”

  Tom inclined his head in agreement. “I used to think that was the best thing for her. Before I came here, at least. Now, I’m not so sure.”

  “How so?” Constance asked.

  Tom's eyes meeting hers. “The Whitleys are very charming—both mother and daughter.”

  Constance met his gaze evenly and smiled in return. “Thank you, Captain Hardigan, but charm hardly seems enough.”

  His face grew serious. “I’ve known Adrienne a long time—well before she and Alicia met. I have never seen her quite like this. This year has been incredibly difficult for her, as I
’m sure you know; and, yet, she looks better right now—stronger, healthier, more alive—than I could imagine. And, forgive me, Mrs. Whitley, but I do not believe it is just the salt air that has brought about this transformation. Leaving may be much harder than she imagines.”

  Constance sighed. “You’re right, of course. I respect Adrienne for her concern about my daughter’s future, but I’m afraid her perspective is slightly off balance. Tanner will most definitely not be better off without her.”

  Tom frowned. “I’m not sure Adrienne is going to do well, either. I’d hate to see her lose her desire for life again. At least Tanner is young—she’ll get over it, I imagine.”

  Constance shook her head. “No, Captain, you’re wrong. Tanner will survive, but she will not get over it. That is not the way the Whitleys love.” She said the last words with finality.

  Tom Hardigan studied the elegant woman beside him, marveling at her serenity and deep understanding. “Does she take after you?”

  “Only in appearance," Constance laughed. "She is her father, through and through.”

  “He must have been quite a man,” Tom said, meaning it.

  “Oh, he was that,” Constance said softly. She looked at him thoughtfully, sensing an unspoken question. “My husband has been dead ten years, Captain Hardigan. In that time, I have never thought of another man. There have been a few who were—interested. A part of my heart, my life, my dreams will always belong to him. Most men would find that intolerable, and I am not good at deceit.”

  He nodded, his eyes never leaving her face. “But, if a man, knowing this to be true, were to desire your affection, in a serious way, you might consider it?”

  Constance laughed. “I might consider it, Captain.”

  He smiled. “Well—I am very glad to hear that.”

  “Will you do me a favor, Tom?” she asked softly.

  “Of course.”