by Baxter Clare
When she stopped breathing, her body forced her to open and swallow, and she concentrated on the ridge of bone mashing against her cheek and the nuzzle of Kennedy's hair on her nose, the soft skin against her lips, the arms hard and secure around her, the sweet smell of woman filling her brain. She just held on, and Kennedy whispered assurances until finally Frank's fingers unclenched and her breathing evened out. When her arms relaxed, Kennedy let go and pulled back slowly.
"Come on," she said gently, helping Frank stand. She led her into the master bedroom, asking where her pajamas were. Frank was confused but managed to mumble they were on the back of the bathroom door. Kennedy got them and gently tugged Frank's turtleneck over her head. She slipped Frank into the pajama top, then helped her take off her shoes and socks and slacks. Frank held onto Kennedy's shoulder while she silently stepped into the pj's. Then Kennedy led Frank into the guest bed.
"Come here," she whispered, and guided Frank back into the haven of her arms. "I want you to sleep, okay? Just sleep, and if any dreams come we'll chase them away together, okay? You're safe right now. Nothing's gonna get you. I won't let anything happen to you."
Somewhere in the back of her brain Frank knew that couldn't possibly be true, but she wanted to believe Kennedy's soft words, wanted the warm arms to wrap around her, and, gradually, she slept.
When her lips found Kennedy's, Frank was still asleep, dreaming that she was making love to Maggie. It felt so good to have her back again. Frank didn't know how that could be possible after all this time, but she didn't question it, just kept responding to the mouth against hers, and the heat starting between her legs and rising through her. She pressed Maggie's body against her, and they started slowly moving against each other in a dance as old and as sweet as air.
As the kisses became hungrier and the dance more urgent, Frank realized she wasn't dreaming anymore. She thought, I'm sorry, Mag. The radiant image she always had of Maggie laughing and turning to say something flashed in her mind, the sky blue behind her, the wind curling her hair around her face. Maggie laughing and Frank knowing it was okay to let go, seeing Maggie speak but not hearing the words the wind carried away.
She said good-bye and tasted the lips heavy on hers, pulling the slight body tighter against her own, rocking together for a different reason now, the breathing labored for a better reason, arms clenched in pleasure and not panic. They moved rhythmically together, like one body, and when Kennedy's breathing faltered, Frank's did too, until neither one of them was breathing anymore, and when Kennedy gasped and cried out, Frank breathed again and fell with her, and the dance slowed as gently as it had begun.
They lay entwined in silence, learning to breathe again, gently finding each other's lips. This time they searched and explored, palming hollows and ridges, tracing bumps and scars, seeking and finding, and after, they slept deeply and unafraid.
35
Frank woke gently and saw gray light out the window. She didn't know if it was still early morning, or if the day was overcast. She pressed the length of herself against the back of Kennedy and wrapped an arm around her waist. Her reward was Kennedy pushing even more firmly into her and caressing her arm before they both fell asleep again.
The next time Frank woke up, Kennedy was gone and sunlight poured into the room. Frank groped at the clock and thought it must be wrong when she saw 12:11. She located her pajamas and stretched, sore in places she'd forgotten existed.
Following the faint clunk of metal against metal, she found Kennedy on the Soloflex.
"Hey."
"Hey, yourself, sleepyhead," she grunted.
Frank left her, wondering if there was coffee and what was in the house for breakfast. She was starving. She sniffed the coffee Kennedy had made and poured a cup. Kennedy appeared behind her, and Frank raised the pot.
"Want some?"
"Girl, I've been up for hours already. I done coffee'd myself out."
"Is it really noon?"
"Noon and then some," she teased. "How ya doin'?" Kennedy asked gingerly.
Frank looked at the woman she'd made love to last night, the woman who'd held her while she whispered her terrors and then lulled her to sleep. Unsure where to start answering, she set the pot down slowly and deliberately.
Placing her hands lightly on Kennedy's waist, she said simply, "I'm good. How are you?"
"Very good."
Frank kissed Kennedy's forehead and they held on to each other, neither knowing what to say, wondering if anything needed to be said. Frank felt only relief and gratitude, like the night had brought a deadly storm, yet here in the bright light of the next day she knew she had miraculously survived it.
She pushed away enough so that she could see Kennedy's face and said, quietly, "We should talk."
"Oh, now you want to talk. Uh-uh."
Kennedy's hand flew up and landed on Frank's mouth. She kissed Frank into silence while her coffee grew cold. In Kennedy's bed, after the sweat had dried and their hearts had slowed, Kennedy generously offered, "Now you can talk."
"Thanks."
"I bet I know what you're going to say."
"What?"
"That this was a mistake and you didn't mean it to happen and we can't see each other anymore."
To her own amazement, Frank laughed. She kissed Kennedy, pulling her closer.
"You know me too well, sport."
"That's what you were going to say, wasn't it?"
"Well, it was an accident, I didn't mean it to happen. But, as for a mistake," and here Frank breathed deeply, "it wasn't a mistake. I think it was the best thing that's happened to me in a very long time. Absolutely not a mistake."
Frank touched the silky head against her shoulder, remembering that old feeling of wanting to stop time, to have it stay as perfect and peaceful as it was this second. Instead, she continued. "As for seeing each other...I know I don't want to let you go. Not just yet. But I don't want to hurt you or use you, either. That's the—"
Kennedy twisted out of Frank's arms and leaned over her.
"Frank. One thing—you're not using me and you're not hurting me. What happened last night, and just now...," she bent closer to Frank's face, as if she were about to whisper a secret, "...Frank, I've had sex with a lot of people but I've never made love to anyone. I wanted to cry last night I hurt so bad for you, and then when you started kissing me in the middle of the night..."
Kennedy shook her head, her hair brushing against Frank.
"...that was something...awesome...and I don't want to let you go yet either, not today, not tomorrow, or the day after that. Let's just take what we have for as long as it lasts, and when it's over we'll both know it."
"Sounds very noble," Frank murmured, "like something out of Casablanca."
"Out of what?"
"Never mind."
Frank rolled Kennedy off and stared hard at her. "I just don't want to hurt you or lead you on. I've got places to go—to go back to—there are things that I've walked away from that I just can't ignore anymore. I've tried for years to bury things without a proper funeral. More and more they're coming back to haunt me. I can't do this anymore—I need to revisit places. And I need to do it alone."
"That's fine. I don't want to settle down with you happily ever after, I just want to be with you for a while. The real you."
Kennedy searched Frank's face, then demanded, "Let me."
Frank studied Kennedy's eagerness, her ardor, and goddamn if it didn't feel good to be a part of that. "There'll be a price for it."
"You're such an idiot, Frank. There's a price already. You don't think if I walk out that door right now you're not going to pay? I know I will."
"Might not be as bad."
Kennedy stopped arguing. "Hey," she said, "Merry Christmas."
Frank grinned, "Oh, yeah. I forgot."
They kissed deeply, and that seemed to settle the discussion.
"You hungry?"
"Does a Crip wear blue?"
"Come on,
I'll make break—"
"Lunch."
"Lunch, while you open your Christmas present."
"Frank," Kennedy protested, "I didn't get you anything."
Realizing Kennedy's dismay was genuine, she cupped the woman's face in her hands and kissed her ever so softly.
"Oh yeah, you did."
36
The next day, Frank was at Parker Center. Most of the employees had taken the day off, making a long weekend that stretched into New Year's, and the parking lot was almost empty. She studied the building in front of her, absently stroking the bare spot on her ring finger. Sunshine warmed the car; a light wind ruffled her hair. She sat for a while, feeling the easy weather on her and thinking about what she had to do next. She'd have almost been content to sit there for the rest of the day, just watching the light change across the face of the building.
Frank climbed took the steps up to the homicide bureau, suddenly chilled inside the cool, dark building. She ran some checks on the computer. When she'd finished, she gathered her courage and walked the few blocks to the BS unit. She thought that Clay's secretary might be in but was surprised to find Clay himself sitting at her desk.
"Lieutenant," he greeted, extending his hand. "Good to see you."
"You too. Thought you'd be taking advantage of the holiday."
He waved a hand. "All the children are off doing their own thing this year, so it's just me and my wife puttering around the house by ourselves, getting in each other's way. I figured I'd try to do some catching up. What brings you here?"
"I actually wanted to make an appointment with your secretary."
"Ah-hah. Have you got another interesting case for me?" Frank hesitated, then answered, "Yeah. Mine." Richard Clay cocked an eyebrow. "Well, it just so happens I have some time. Come on in."
He sat against the linked fence, apart from the men shooting hoops. He liked being outside. It reminded him of the parks. He'd close his eyes and feel the sun burning around him. He'd pretend he was there, watching the girls. He'd close his eyes and dream he was flying. He'd close his eyes and plan.
FB2 document info
Document ID: 2467e61f-b753-481c-97e9-8dda394449ed
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 5.6.2012
Created using: calibre 0.8.53, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6.6 software
Document authors :
Baxter Clare
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