Winter's Harbor

by Aurora Rey

  “Have I told you lately that you aren’t funny?” Alex resisted the urge to throw some onion at her, but only because she didn’t want Murphy to eat any that fell on the floor.

  “Not lately. So tell me about this Lia.” She took a bite of cheese Danish. “This is delicious, by the way.”

  “Thank you. She’s spending the winter in town, by herself. I hated the idea of her having Thanksgiving dinner for one in her little apartment.”

  “What a noble gesture. Are you planning on getting in her pants? Or have you already?”

  She considered a flippant response, but Meg could always tell when she was lying and it would make her all the more suspicious. “She’s gorgeous, and there’s definitely chemistry.”

  “But?”

  “But she’s just getting out of a relationship. And it was enough to make her leave New York City and come all the way to Provincetown at the start of winter.”

  “So she’s damaged. And damaged means messy.”

  Alex put her knife down. “That’s just it. I’m sure she’s hurt, but she doesn’t give off a wounded vibe. I haven’t been able to figure her out.”

  Meg nodded. “But you want to.”

  “Yeah.” She picked up her knife and resumed chopping. “I do.”

  “Just remember she’s a person and not a puzzle.”

  Before Alex could reply, Rob emerged from the bedroom.

  “I smell coffee. Please tell me there’s coffee.”

  Meg hopped down from her stool to pour Rob a cup. She passed Alex and poked her in the ribs. “I’m just saying.”

  *

  Aside from not having a stand mixer, the kitchen of Lia’s apartment was well-equipped. There was a decent set of pots, baking dishes and cookie sheets, utensils, measuring cups and spoons, and more. After realizing that she wouldn’t need to buy any equipment, she decided to pick up ingredients for a couple of her other typical Thanksgiving dishes. She was accustomed to preparing the whole meal; she was worried she wouldn’t know what to do with herself if she only had to make one thing.

  She unloaded the ingredients she’d picked up the day before and turned the oven on to preheat. She gave the sweet potatoes a good scrub, poked them with a fork, and set them on a baking sheet. She slid them into the oven and got to work on her pie crust. It was a risky move to bring a pie to dinner at a pastry chef’s house. Still, her bourbon-pecan was always a hit and it wouldn’t feel like Thanksgiving without it.

  With the crust chilling, Lia grated a mixture of cheddar and Gruyère. Technically, her grandmother’s cheese straw recipe only called for cheddar, but Lia had taken a number of liberties over the years. She also added crushed garlic and cayenne pepper. She liked to think that Grand-mère would have approved of the additions. Lia worked the dough slowly by hand to ensure that the butter and cheese were completely kneaded into the flour. When it came together, she wrapped it in plastic and put it into the fridge.

  She rolled out her crust, laid it gently in the pie plate she found. She trimmed and crimped the edges, added two heaping cups of pecans, then poured in the mixture of eggs, corn syrup, vanilla, and bourbon. She took the sweet potatoes out, put the pie in. She spent the next couple of hours whipping up the sweet potatoes, topping them with brown sugar and pecans, and rolling out and baking her cheese straws.

  When everything was done, Lia still had a leisurely hour and a half to get ready. She chose a tweed skirt and scooped-neck black sweater, along with her favorite tall boots. With time still to spare, she decided to go ahead and call her parents. As usual, they were happy to hear from her. They were glad to hear she had plans, since her holidays had for so long revolved around Danielle. They said they missed her and hoped she’d come home for a visit soon. After she hung up, she texted her brothers and Sally.

  She thought about calling Dani. They hadn’t spoken since she’d left, but given how many years—how many holidays—they’d spent together, it felt weird to have no contact at all. It wasn’t like she wanted to be friends or anything, but Lia wasn’t one to hold onto anger. She hesitated for a moment, then settled on a text.

  Happy Thanksgiving. Hope your day is filled with good food and good friends.

  Lia read over the message. She decided it wasn’t too personal or too impersonal, then hit send.

  She loaded her things into the front seat of her car and headed over, parking around back the way Alex had instructed. Lia managed to carry everything at once, but she had to ring Alex’s doorbell with her knee. While she waited, she wiggled until her skirt fell back into place and blew a stray curl out of her eyes. When the door opened, it wasn’t Alex standing on the other side, but a lankier and more feminine version of her.

  “You must be Lia. I’m Alex’s sister, Meg. Let me help you with that.” Meg took the pie Lia was holding as well as the bottle of wine tucked under her arm.

  “Thank you so much, and it’s nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise. Have you been here before?”

  “I haven’t.”

  “Okay, follow me.”

  Lia did as she was instructed, following Meg up a narrow set of stairs. At the top, she found herself in a bright, open kitchen. Alex, who was stirring something at the stove, looked over and called a greeting. Her smile quickly became a furrowed brow. “I thought you were bringing sweet potatoes.”

  “I did.” Lia lifted the canvas shopping bag holding the casserole dish. “They’re right here.”

  Alex turned and put her hands on her hips. “I thought you were bringing only sweet potatoes.”

  Lia shrugged. “I’m Southern. This is how we roll.”

  Alex laughed, then tucked her tongue in her cheek and nodded. “I see. Well, I suppose the more-the-merrier philosophy applies to food as much as people. Come unload and then I’ll introduce you around.”

  Lia set down her bags. She pulled out the casserole dish and handed it to Alex. “This needs to be warmed if you have room in the oven.”

  “Got it.” Alex took the dish and slid it into the oven next to one of the most beautifully browned turkeys Lia had ever seen.

  “That looks amazing.” She gestured toward the turkey while pulling the little silver serving tray she’d found out of her other bag.

  Alex came over to study it. “So what else did you bring?”

  “Cheese straws, old family recipe. They’re a great little snack with wine before dinner. And, perhaps against my better judgment, a pie.”

  Alex carefully removed the plastic wrap from the cheese straws and sampled one. “These are delicious. If I’d known they existed, I would have demanded that you bring them. Why would a pie be against your better judgment?”

  Lia blushed. “Bringing a pie to a CIA-trained pastry chef is like asking—”

  Alex interrupted. “One, you’re adorable. Two, you’ll be pleased to know that I hate making pies. For some reason, I had a harder time making a decent pie crust than just about anything else I learned in culinary school. I’ve avoided them ever since.”

  “That’s hilarious. Thank you, for the compliment and for making me feel better.”

  Alex winked at her. “Anytime. Now, let’s get you to the living room before the natives start to get restless.”

  In addition to Meg and her husband Rob, Jeff was there with a bookish guy named Edwin. Shortly after, Tom and Charlie, who she recognized from the café, arrived. Wine was poured and Lia’s cheese straws, along with some olives and baguette with caramelized onions and Brie, were devoured. By the time dinner was served, Lia felt more at ease than she did during most of the Thanksgivings she spent in New York.

  At the table, expanded with leaves until it was halfway into the living room, she was seated between Alex and Meg. Although they shared similar looks and mannerisms, it was clear that they had very different personalities. Meg was a complete extrovert and peppered Lia with questions about her childhood and decision to move north. Lia really wanted to ask similar questions about her and Alex’s childhood, but she was
afraid of making her interest seem too obvious.

  Whatever nervousness she’d felt about crashing a family holiday dissolved. And although she stole plenty of glances at Alex throughout the meal, she was kept distracted enough not to think about whether or not Alex still wanted to kiss her. Which was for the best, really, since the moment had likely passed and nothing was going to happen.

  After everyone had eaten their way through seconds, if not thirds, she was allowed to help wrap up leftovers, then was banished to the living room while the non-cooking types did the dishes. The football game on television reminded her of home—home-home, not the years she’d spent with Danielle. This group was boisterous and silly and loud; it reminded her of family Thanksgivings when she was little.

  Once everything from dinner was cleaned up and put away, talk turned toward dessert. There were a couple of protests of being too full, but bring-it-on won by a slim margin. Meg got up to put on a pot of coffee, and Alex got out dessert plates and forks. Lia went with them. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Actually, I need to get the other desserts from the bakery fridge. Will you give me a hand?”

  “At your service.”

  Alex headed downstairs and she followed. The bakery kitchen was dimly lit. When Alex opened the door to one of the large, stainless steel coolers, it cast a pool of light between them. She handed Lia a pumpkin cheesecake and then took out what looked like an elaborate chocolate torte. She nudged the door closed with a hip. Lia turned to go back upstairs, but Alex stopped her.

  “Wait.” Alex set the chocolate cake on the table behind them. She took the cheesecake from Lia and set it down as well.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  Alex took a step and closed the space between them. “Nothing is wrong. I just don’t think I can make it through the rest of the evening without doing this.”

  Alex placed one hand in the curve of Lia’s lower back, the other in Lia’s hair. She paused for only a second, as if searching for any sign of hesitation. Lia parted her lips to say something, but there were no words. It must have been all the encouragement Alex needed.

  Maybe the kiss wasn’t entirely unexpected, but Lia was unprepared for the onslaught to her senses. Alex’s lips were warm, teasing at first. Quickly, however, the soft brush of her mouth became more demanding. Lia’s head began to swim. Suddenly unsteady on her feet, she leaned into the heat of Alex’s body.

  Lia couldn’t remember ever being kissed like this. To be fair, she couldn’t actually think about much of anything, but she was pretty certain this was unlike any kiss she’d ever experienced. Her body was tight with yearning and she could feel herself become wet. The wanting bordered on desperate.

  As if she could sense that wanting, that desperation, Alex turned slightly so that Lia’s back was pressed against the cooler door. She pulled her lips away from Lia’s mouth, tracing tongue and teeth down her neck to the low, scooped neckline of her sweater. Lia felt her skin flush; she wanted nothing more than to give herself over to this sudden explosion of desire.

  She was on the verge of saying as much when a voice called down to them.

  “Is everything all right down there?”

  Lia jumped, but Alex kept her arm tight around Lia’s waist. “Yep, we’re good. Be right up.”

  Although the blood was still pumping hot under her skin, Lia was able to regain a small amount of composure. She looked at Alex, who was now grinning at her.

  “Oh. My. God.” That was all she could manage.

  Alex gave her a squeeze, then released her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to ravage you. I mean, I did, but not in the bakery with people milling around upstairs.”

  “Don’t apologize. Please, don’t ever apologize for doing that.”

  Lia could see Alex swallow hard, but she didn’t know what it meant. Alex picked up the cheesecake and handed it to her for the second time.

  “Then I will simply promise to do it again soon, under slightly different circumstances.” She picked up the cake and motioned for Lia to lead the way upstairs.

  Meg was waiting for them in the kitchen. Lia watched them exchange glances, after which Meg smiled. “Lia, I cannot wait to try your pie.”

  *

  It was after ten when the party started to break apart. Alex walked Lia to her car. “I’m really glad you came.”

  “I’m really glad you invited me.”

  “I’ll see you again very soon?”

  “I’ll be at my usual table on Saturday.”

  Alex nodded. “I’ll be counting on it.”

  Lia didn’t trust herself to keep any physical contact casual at that point, so she climbed into her car. As she backed onto the street, Alex didn’t move. She lifted her hand in a wave, and Alex did the same.

  On the short drive home, Lia touched her fingers to her lips. They felt warm and slightly swollen. Her mind drifted to the heat, the hunger of Alex’s kiss and Lia felt another wave of arousal course through her. Apparently, the moment hadn’t passed. Alex was attracted to her, wanted her. It was both exciting and unsettling. She was going to have to decide what to do, and fast.

  When she got home, Lia felt far too wound up, and far too full, for sleep. She changed into sweats and turned on the second half of the late football game. Dani did not enjoy football, so Lia had drifted away from following anything more than the win-loss record of her New Orleans Saints. Tuning in was like rediscovering an old friend.

  She picked up her phone and found texts from all of her brothers, Sally, and a couple of her nieces and nephews who were old enough to have cell phones of their own. There was no text from Dani. Lia couldn’t decide whether or not she should be surprised. Instead, she decided it didn’t really matter. She snuggled under her blanket and watched Detroit wallop Green Bay.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Alex had never been timid when it came to asking women out. Even in high school, before she’d come out to herself or anyone else, she’d initiated kisses during study sessions with her friends. When she decided she was interested in girls, she cajoled the only other lesbian she knew, a girl who’d graduated a year ahead of her and was home on Christmas break, to take her to the dyke bar near her house in Boston. With “X” marks on her hands, she flirted and danced and made out with a woman who must have been at least ten years her senior.

  Truth be told, it wasn’t the asking Lia out that gave her pause. The ease of spending time together combined with the jolt of electricity from their stolen kiss made Alex crave to discover what else was there. Rather, it seemed to Alex that, if she were to get involved with Lia, there would be more at stake. When it came to relationships, she wasn’t one for having a lot at stake.

  As she’d told Meg, Lia didn’t radiate “wounded bird” the way some women did. She could spot that a mile away. She knew how to flirt casually and give compliments while keeping that type of woman safely at bay. Lia, on the other hand, seemed grounded—content if not entirely happy. She had a quick wit and an even quicker laugh, but if Alex got too flirtatious, she’d get quiet, stop making eye contact. She had an almost detached way of talking about her ex, more like she’d shut the door on those feelings rather than worked through them.

  It all made Alex want to respect her privacy and press for details simultaneously. That is what gave her pause. If they became involved, Alex had no idea if Lia would keep that emotional detachment, or get weird and clingy, or what. Having no idea what might come next left her uneasy.

  She looked over to where Lia was typing away. Alex knew from their conversation earlier that morning that she was working on the findings of a study that had something to do with making red blood cells replicate at an accelerated pace. Lia’s eyes sparkled as she talked about it. Alex knew enough about medicine to know that anything that could minimize the need for transfusions and bolster the blood supply would indeed be huge news. Lia was giddy as a schoolgirl to be writing about it and Alex found the whole thing ridiculously charming.


  Alex sighed. It was useless to deny that what she felt toward Lia was a passing attraction. The lightning hot kiss they’d shared in the bakery on Thanksgiving was not something that she could, or even wanted to, ignore. The matter at hand was deciding how far to take it.

  “How goes it?” Alex walked over to Lia’s table with two cups of coffee.

  It had become a bit of a ritual. Around two, after the lunch rush and before she started cleaning up for the day, she brought Lia a cup of coffee and they chatted for a bit. That first day, Lia had seemed annoyed by her work and Alex wanted to distract her for a while. The next day, she found herself craving a break before cleaning out the refrigerators. In the weeks since, they’d hardly missed a day.

  Lia looked up and was all smiles. “It’s going really well. I almost can’t believe what I’m reading, but they’ve reproduced the results a dozen times. Once this is published, other labs will try to do the same. If they do, it could completely change the face of hematology research in this country, and beyond.”

  She had a thing for a woman who got excited about hematology research. That was a first. “It sounds exciting. We might have to get a plaque to commemorate the work done at this very table.”

  Lia lightly kicked her. “Don’t make fun.”

  Alex raised her hands. “No making fun, I swear. It’s very satisfying that such meaningful work is being done in my shop.”

  Lia smiled. “That’s very sweet. Really. How about you? Seemed extra busy today.”

  “The Holly Folly is this weekend. The shop and gallery owners are getting ready, bringing in some temporary help.”

  “Oh, that’s right. You know, I know my way around a kitchen. If you don’t have someone lined up to help out and need an extra pair of hands, I’d be happy to jump in.”

  It was the last thing Alex expected her to say. “Really?”

  “Absolutely. You wouldn’t even have to put me on payroll. I’d work for store credit.”