Such Happiness as This

by Laina Villeneuve

Never before had she felt as cherished as she did when Robyn traced from her shoulder to her hip with just the right pressure to make every nerve ending in her body come alive. She tingled down to her toes and squirmed, wanting to feel her lover inside. Though she deepened their kiss, suggesting with her tongue what she really desired, Robyn took her time.

  Even when she met Grace’s center with her mouth, Robyn circled her clit with the tip of her finger instead of entering, which she knew Grace wanted. “You’re such a tease,” Grace hissed, trying to push Robyn to where she needed her most.

  “You like it so much,” Robyn murmured. “You are so wet.” Still playing with her fingers between Grace’s lips, she skirted her tongue up the ridge of Grace’s hip, suckling the sensitive dip just below. When her mouth reached Grace’s breast, she slowly stroked Grace’s clit with her thumb and only when she moved to kiss Grace again did she finally slide past her slippery folds deep within.

  Grace felt Robyn everywhere at once, gasping as Robyn pulled out just to enter her again with two fingers. “Yes, yes, yes,” Grace encouraged her, trying to get Robyn to increase the tempo.

  “Not so patient, are you?” Robyn asked, altering her stroke just as Grace thought she might crest.

  “I need you.”

  “Here?” Robyn said, finally complying with the tempo Grace needed.

  “Right there. Oh, don’t stop what you’re doing.” Blood hammered in Grace’s ears and the world shook. Her eyes flew open as she realized that the hammering wasn’t her own pulse but the house slamming against its foundation. “Robyn?” Fear-induced adrenaline flooded her body.

  “You’re okay,” she answered, not slowing her stroke.

  “But…”

  Robyn’s voice was calm as the contents of the house rattled and shook beneath them. “You’re okay. I’m right here.”

  As the North American plates slipped, jarring the world as they resettled, Grace’s orgasm ripped through her. Her own body joined the shaking as she rode out both the earthquake and her pleasure, her hands holding onto Robyn like a lifeline. “You made the earth shake.”

  “All you,” Robyn said, settling in next to Grace to hold her.

  Grace clung to her as the house continued to sway. She could still hear the roar of the earthquake rolling through the town. “How…”

  “Robyn!”

  Robyn’s door hit the wall below the loft with a force, startling Grace all over again.

  Robyn eased Grace back down onto the bed with a steady palm. “Jen,” she said to her tenant. “Not a good time.”

  “Earthquake!” she panted.

  “We know,” Robyn said. She bent to kiss Grace’s ear. “Hang on a sec. Jen is terrified of earthquakes.” Realizing all of her clothes were in the room below, she called to Jen. “Toss me my shirt, would you?”

  “No, it’s okay. I’m sorry,” Jen said.

  Grace heard the door click shut again. Before she could say a word, Robyn was already on the stairs to her room.

  “Be right back, promise.”

  “You’re not leaving.” It was a statement, not a question, and she delivered it in her administrative voice.

  “I’ve got to check the gas lines anyway,” she said and was gone.

  Grace sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. Anger flooded through her. What about her? She was equally rattled by the sizeable quake and felt she deserved to have her lover’s comfort. The concerns she’d voiced to Kristine multiplied exponentially.

  She scooted from Robyn’s bed and down the stairs to collect her clothes. She tried the light but found that the electricity was out. “Great,” she mumbled, trying to find her clothes in the dark. She located everything but one sock and decided that was good enough. Dressed, her keys in her hand, she met Robyn coming up the stairs with an electric lantern.

  “You’re dressed!” she exclaimed.

  “I have my own house to check.”

  “Tyler will call you if there’s a problem, won’t he?”

  “Forgive me if I feel like checking for myself,” Grace said icily. She pushed past Robyn and carefully descended the stairs.

  Robyn followed. “Grace, I can tell you’re angry. Please don’t leave right now. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

  Grace spun around. “You need me to tell you what’s bothering me?” she said incredulously.

  “I had to check the house.” Robyn hooked the lantern on the staircase banister and reached for Grace.

  “And Jen.” Grace stepped away from her.

  Robyn crossed her arms defensively. “Jen is your friend too. I don’t understand why you’re so upset that I would want to make sure she’s okay.”

  Grace looked up the staircase, aware that both Jen and Sergio were very likely listening to everything they said. This incensed her more, that she couldn’t even have a lovers’ quarrel in private. She turned to the door, but Robyn was there before she had opened it.

  “What is it?” she asked. The levelness of her voice conveyed genuine worry.

  Tears spilled down Grace’s cheeks. “I love you,” she whispered.

  Robyn cupped Grace’s face. “Then why in the world are we down here instead of back in bed?”

  Keeping her voice low, Grace said, “Because I don’t like sharing you, knowing that your tenants hear everything, that they can interrupt at any time. Any time,” she emphasized.

  “You want me to get rid of my tenants?” Robyn stepped back as if Grace had struck her.

  “I don’t see you moving out, so that leaves us here with me worrying about who I’m going to bump into on my way to the bathroom or run into on campus.” She stood up straighter with that. “It’s not professional.”

  “If you really love me, you wouldn’t try to change me.”

  “I’m not trying to change you.”

  “My renters are a huge part of my income!”

  “If I lived here, don’t you think I’d contribute?”

  “I don’t want your money,” Robyn snapped. “I didn’t ask for your fancy compost bin. And what happened to my toaster?”

  “The broken one?”

  “It wasn’t broken.”

  “I don’t think it’s unreasonable to want to have toast without having to hover over the machine to make it work.”

  “So you just threw it away? It still worked.”

  “Jesus, Robyn. It’s out in the shed if you still want it, next to three other toasters that I’m guessing are also semi-functional. That I can’t change anything without checking with you first makes me feel like I’m another tenant here.”

  “Sergio and Jen haven’t complained.”

  “They are renters, Robyn. You’re lumping me in with your renters?”

  “Of course not, but…” She looked like she was sifting through complaints about Grace that she had tucked away.

  “But what? What have I complained about? What else is on your list?” she demanded.

  “I don’t have a list.”

  “Oh, I think you do. I am not in the wrong here. You’re trying to make me the unreasonable one when all I want is the privacy of a home where we can have sex wherever or whenever we want without worrying about roommates. I’m too old to worry about roommates.”

  A strong aftershock punctuated her outburst. Robyn reached for the banister and Grace held onto the doorknob, the entryway empty between them. When the earth settled again, Robyn stepped toward Grace who held out her hand to stop her. “Why don’t you check on Jen?” She opened the door and slipped out onto the darkened street to her car.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Grace

  The springs on Robyn’s office chair squeaked as she leaned back. With tufts of stuffing poking through the old leather upholstery it didn’t look like much, but she’d never been able to find anything as comfortable as her papa’s chair. Papers covered her desk: a stack of bills, statements to file, trash to recycle. She tallied her expenses on a legal pad and just for the sake of argument halved all of them to p
roject what Grace would need to contribute if she moved in.

  She had no mortgage to worry about, but she didn’t want to trust her coast guard pension to carry her through the end. Each month, she was able to put away much of what she collected in rent. Losing the renters wouldn’t hurt her monthly budget, but it would impact her savings, money she would need if Grace ever decided that she didn’t want to be with her for the long haul.

  Not being legally married to Barb became a blessing when she left. To separate their finances, Robyn only had to open a new bank account, but her leaving had stripped Robyn of the financial security she had felt while they were together. She didn’t want to feel that vulnerable again.

  Two sets of feet clomped down the stairs: Jen’s last pupil leaving with his mother. She could start charging Jen for the studio space, but she hated to bite into what Jen was making. She tipped forward and scrounged in her recycling for a piece of paper with a blank back. How hard would it be to add a separate entrance for the studio and eliminate the traffic through the house? Busy sketching the possibility, she didn’t hear Jen until she stood at the doorway.

  “Bad time?” she asked.

  “No. Great time. What do you think about a separate entrance for the studio? We could run a set of stairs up to the enclosed porch and put an external door to the studio.” She turned back to the drawing. “That could be your entry room. You could make a little sitting area there, so the kids coming in wouldn’t disturb your lesson. Put in a few chairs, and it would also give the parents a place to sit and wait.” She couldn’t read the expression on Jen’s face. “Bad idea?”

  Jen leaned against the bookshelf. “Great idea. I just don’t know if you’ll want to go to the trouble.”

  “I thought your lessons were going well. It seems like there’s a steady stream of little musicians coming through every day.”

  “Yeah, the teaching is great,” Jen agreed. She wouldn’t meet Robyn’s eye.

  “This is about Grace, isn’t it? About the fight we had. Please don’t worry about that.”

  “You’re kidding, right? She’s totally pissed at me and rightfully so. I should never have gone into your bedroom. I don’t know what I was thinking, and I’m so sorry.”

  “She’ll get over it, and if she doesn’t…” Robyn took a deep breath remembering the jolt she’d felt when she read the lettering of her lover’s name on the stone in her palm that morning. She honestly hoped that Grace would come around and accept Robyn’s apology. If she didn’t, Robyn had been telling herself that she would be relieved to know they were so incompatible without investing years of their lives into something that would be difficult to dissolve. The problem was that she wasn’t convinced. Just the thought of Grace leaving her pressed on her chest like being trapped under a wave—disoriented, desperate for air, without a clue as to whether the surf would let her emerge again.

  “You don’t mean that,” Jen said. “You wouldn’t let her get away.”

  “You’re my family. She has no right to ask you to leave.”

  “So she does want us gone.” Jen didn’t look hurt.

  “She hasn’t said that.” Robyn left out how they hadn’t spoken since.

  “If you think about it, what part of this space is hers? I have my room, the studio as my own space. What does she have?”

  “Me! My space is our space. I can make room for her, but she has to meet me halfway and see where she’s being unreasonable. It’s not like she’s moving in. That’s not what we’re talking about here.”

  “Wouldn’t she, eventually? It’s not like you’d move, right? So she’s got to be wondering whether being with you means living with renters. It’s your choice, but if you ask me, if you choose to keep renters instead of her, you’re the one losing.”

  Robyn crossed her arms over her chest, feeling like she was under attack. She had anticipated having Jen on her side, not receiving a lecture about how she was in the wrong.

  “I didn’t mean to make you defensive. I really just came down to let you know that I’m moving out.”

  “What!” Robyn’s chair snapped back to level position, her feet smacking the floor in front of her.

  “I’ve been seeing someone,” Jen said. “We wouldn’t have moved in together so soon, but I told her about what happened. She’s the one who said that you clearly need your own space, and I agree with her.”

  “That’s for me to decide. I have a room to rent. I’ll just put someone else in there. I need the income.”

  Jen stared at her levelly. “Then I’ll keep the studio for my classes and pay you for that. Don’t rent out that room, Robyn. Grace is good for you. She came right out and told you what the issue is, and it’s an issue you happen to be able to fix. Easily. You’re crazy not to.” She pushed away from the bookshelf. “Anyway, I told Tara that I need a week to pack and clean up the room. I hope you’ll let me keep doing lessons.”

  Robyn sat, stunned by Jen’s announcement. She thought about her prayer stones and what an answered prayer was: the granting of what one most needed. She reminded herself that she always accepted what she pulled from the bowl. Did that mean Grace was what she needed most?

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Analytical

  Tucked under the mare’s neck, Robyn stood in Taj’s stall. As if she sensed the goodbye in how firmly Robyn held on, Taj swung her muzzle around, wrapping the human in her warmth and comforting horse smell. Responding to the horse hug, Robyn buried her face in Taj’s soft coat, wanting to block the beautiful image of her sailing over six-foot jumps with young, talented riders aboard. Sitting ringside, she saw how Taj responded to the challenge, her black-tipped ears perked, neck arched and forelegs tucked tight as she effortlessly cleared fences Robyn would never consider.

  Even on a loose rein when the riders cooled her down, Taj had a spring in her gait that Robyn had never felt on the trail. She looked proud and satisfied. Robyn realized she was very likely projecting feelings onto the horse to comfort herself for not buying the mare when Eleanor had called her to say they were ready to sell her.

  Tears sprang to her eyes when she remembered the catch in Eleanor’s voice when she had called. She knew that letting go of Taj meant letting go of Penelope yet again. She asked for a day to think it over, even though when Eleanor gave her their asking price, she knew she could never justify such a purchase.

  It wasn’t just the money. Robyn had the savings, but she could not bring herself to tie the animal to mundane rides when she was clearly capable of so much more. In the short term, she had felt good about getting Taj out and keeping her in shape. In the long term, she’d be holding the horse back.

  Still, she wanted to ride Taj one more time and took her deep into the redwoods beyond the clear-cut Kristine had shown her the first time she left the barn. She wanted the rhythm of the horse’s stride to center her as it had when Barb had left, but instead the ride reinforced her belief that the horse belonged in the ring and was out of place on the trails Robyn loved. They had never been right for each other.

  The tears continued, and she did nothing to stop them. Thankful for Taj’s patience, she let the sobs come unchecked.

  “Robyn?”

  Startled, Robyn brushed away her tears, keeping her back to the stall door. When she turned, she saw Kristine and Caemon sharing a look of concern. Feeling exposed, she stepped to the door but did not reach to disengage the lock. Caemon surprised her by tipping forward in his mother’s arms over the open window to wrap his arms around Robyn’s neck.

  Robyn pulled him over and accepted his full body hug. She met Kristine’s eyes which were full of pride and love.

  “Robyn’s sad,” Caemon said, pulling back to look into her eyes. He wiped her cheeks with sticky, grubby fingers, smearing her tears around with hands that smelled suspiciously of…blackberry she guessed from his blue-ringed lips. “It’s okay. I comfort you.”

  Rocking back and forth with his weight in her arms, she did feel comforted. “Thanks. Th
at’s a really good hug.”

  “We can muck now? With the tractor?”

  “Sure. And you know what? It’s a good thing you’re here because I have a big favor to ask.”

  “What?” he asked, his blue eyes full of wonder.

  Robyn unlatched the stall and set him down, so she could open her shed and pull out the tractor. “This is actually my last day taking care of Taj.” Her chin trembled and she fought from crying again.

  “Why?” Caemon looked troubled, and Robyn didn’t dare look at Kristine.

  “Because I was just borrowing her. Now she has a new owner who is taking her to a different barn.”

  “And I won’t be able to see her anymore? Bean won’t see her too?”

  “No. You and Bean won’t see her anymore. So,” Robyn cleared her throat and took a deep breath, “I don’t have a place to keep my tractor. Do you think we could put it in your shed?”

  “Yeah!” Caemon leapt to the tractor seat and started pedaling, his world set right again. Robyn marveled at the child’s resilience.

  “You didn’t want to buy her?” Kristine asked carefully.

  “It’s not that I didn’t want to. She’s just meant for so much more.” Again, she avoided looking at Kristine. Robyn hadn’t talked to Grace for more than a week. She’d called to apologize once. When Grace didn’t return her call, she didn’t see a reason to keep calling. When she wanted to talk, Grace knew where to find her.

  “She Taj or she Grace is meant for so much more?”

  “Taj,” Robyn said defensively. “Why would I say that about Grace?”

  Kristine shrugged, frustrating Robyn by walking to Taj’s stall to offer her a carrot and stroking the pointed white shape on the mare’s forehead. Only when she traced the marking with her finger did Robyn connect it to the outline of the Taj Mahal. Grief that she’d never be able to joke with Penelope about how slow she’d been to get it bumped into the hurt that Grace had not returned her phone call. She gritted her teeth, knowing that Kristine had grown silent to force Robyn to talk about Grace.

  “I wish a local had bought her. I’ll miss seeing her around the barn,” Kristine commented, seemingly comfortable with dropping the subject of Grace.