Twice in a Lifetime

by Jodie Griffin

  It was empty but for the two of us, and I sat, holding my silence. Eve had wanted to talk, so I waited for her to speak, but she just watched the people walking along the other side of the creek, ever alert. When the quiet stretched from one to two to four minutes, I opened my yogurt and started to eat.

  “Did you know you lick your lip after every spoonful?”

  I nearly dropped said utensil. “What?”

  “You lick your lip. I noticed it right off. And now that I’ve kissed those lips, it’s driving me crazy. I want you to take a taste of it, and then I want to taste you.” My heart went all flippy-floppy—until she spoke again. “But this morning you told Delia there was nothing between us. Did you mean that?”

  I’d known almost immediately that my denial had bothered Eve, but her words felt like shards of glass. “Do you think I meant it?”

  Her gaze skittered away, and in that moment I wanted to take her in my arms. But we were in public, and she was in uniform, so that would probably be a bad idea.

  “I don’t know. This moved really fast, Tal. And I had a lot of time to think last night after I went home. I’m not—”

  She didn’t finish the statement, and the yogurt suddenly felt heavy and sour in my stomach. “I haven’t played any kind of dating game for over twenty years. I’m used to the open honesty of a solid marriage, so I’m just going to say what’s on my mind. I wasn’t expecting this either—though I admit I wondered about it—and I was shocked when you came over last night. But you did come over, and we did start something. I don’t want to end this before we know what could be, and I’m hoping you want the same, though I assumed you didn’t want anyone else to know about it.” I gathered my courage, my stomach turning over at the thought of what I was about to say. “But if you don’t want to explore what’s between us, if you want to go back to the way things were, then tell me now. Please.”

  She shook her head lightly, a small smile tipping up one side of her mouth. “You really don’t pull any punches, do you? I want the same thing you want. But it bothered me when you told Delia there was nothing to hide.” I went to explain, but she held up a hand. “You were protecting me. I get that . . . now. You’re not the only one who hasn’t dated in a long time. Not twenty years for me, but long enough. I got a little too caught up in my head.”

  Relief eased the knot in my gut. “I don’t want this—us—to mess with your job, though.”

  She moved a bit closer, bumped shoulders with me. “And I don’t want it to mess with yours, either. So we have to be circumspect, at least until we figure out what we’ve got. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.” I took another spoonful of yogurt, then deliberately licked my lips.

  “Now you’re just being mean,” Eve said, her tone playfully pained.

  I was rusty at this flirting thing, but hopefully it was like riding a bike and you never actually forgot how. I dipped my spoon into the cup again, but this time licked the yogurt off with my tongue. “Uh-huh.”

  Eve half laughed, half groaned. “I’m going to call you Tal the Tease from now on.”

  I giggled. Fifty-two years old, and I sounded like a damn teenager. But it truly was mean to torture her in public like that, so I changed the subject. “Do you think Delia and Colin really crossed a line while they were working together?”

  She didn’t answer for a moment, her eyes scanning the people walking by again. Did she ever get to turn it off, or was she always in cop mode?

  “Maybe? Every time I’ve seen them, it’s like standing next to a live wire, so I wouldn’t doubt it.” She turned to me and made a face. “But she’s right about keeping things private.”

  “I know.” I finished my yogurt, held out my apple. “You didn’t eat. It’s not much, but want this?”

  Eve shook her head. “Not hungry yet. They had bagels at the budget meeting.” Her eyes grew merry. “I might like a nice big bite of something similarly shaped later, though. Tonight?”

  Just like that, I was aroused. But as much as I hated to—like, really hated to—I shook my head. “Can’t tonight. I teach class for adults who are looking to convert to Judaism on Monday nights. We often run late.”

  Was it bad that the disappointment in Eve’s eyes made me feel better?

  She scrunched up her face. “If you’re going to be like that, fine.”

  I had to laugh. “You’re cute when you pout.”

  A shout from across the creek wiped the playful grin off her face in a second, and it went cop-hard as she zeroed in on two guys standing near a disheveled man in worn-out clothing. “So much for a lunch break.”

  When I moved to stand, she shook her head. “You stay here while I check it out.”

  Her job, I reminded myself. Her job, and she’s trained for situations like this. I hid my worry for her as best as I could, and kept my voice mild. “Okay. But we’re going to have to talk about your propensity for giving me orders.”

  “Nonnegotiable in this situation,” she said as she punched a number on her phone. She held up a finger as someone answered. “Send patrol over to the foot bridge by the library. Two white males with a homeless guy. Might be nothing. Might be something.”

  She hung up and her attention stayed divided between them and me, until one of the young men grabbed at the guy’s baseball cap.

  “Oh, hell no.” She took two steps, but looked back over her shoulder.

  “Sit. Stay,” I said, sketching a really bad salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She flashed that sexy grin, then turned and quickly made her way to the other side of the pedestrian bridge. It was amazing to watch the transformation from Eve the woman to Eve the cop. The woman was warm and relaxed and playful.

  The cop was all business, with a hard edge that spoke of experience.

  One of the troublemakers froze as she stalked toward them. The other took a belligerent stance, hip at an angle, his attitude cocky. They were both blond, early twenties, dressed like preppy frat boys, and they had privilege written all over them. I could only hear bits and pieces of what Eve was saying since her back was to me, but I heard nearly all of what the obnoxious one said since he was acting like an idiot, insulting her and arguing with her in a voice loud enough to carry over the narrow creek to the amphitheater. Bitch cop made me flinch, but Eve kept her cool.

  I wanted to roll my eyes at his stupidity, but I was too busy trying not to panic as Eve stepped between them and the homeless man they’d been bothering. Because he was so unkempt, I couldn’t tell if he was young or old or somewhere in between.

  When the loud-mouthed frat boy whipped a hand toward Eve, things moved very, very fast.

  Before I could even blink, she had him up against the wall, that arm twisted behind his back. His friend put his hands out low and wide in that universal everything’s good here, nothing to hide gesture, and started talking earnestly.

  As I watched, heart in my throat, a police cruiser pulled up, lights flashing, and another officer stepped out.

  Eve released the guy against the wall and ordered him to sit on the ground, which he did with a sullen glare. The homeless man made hand gestures, and I realized he was deaf the same instant Eve did. She pointed at the man, then pointed at herself and then the steps. The man nodded, and they both walked over to the curved cement staircase as a second car pulled up, also with lights going.

  We had a large deaf community, so I wasn’t surprised to see that Eve knew some signs. It looked like she was rusty, but within minutes, the man nodded again. She stood and walked over to the newly arrived officer, talking with the woman for a few moments. Explaining the situation, I assumed.

  And still, I sat.

  At least my panic had eased off but, damn, my heart had nearly stopped when the guy had flung his hand out toward her.

  Yet another officer arrived, and this one appeared to be fluent in ASL. He joined Eve for a quick conversation, before heading toward the homeless man still seated on the steps. Once everything was in play, Eve came bac
k across the bridge.

  “We can go back to the office now. Everyone is up to speed, and Detective Harris will interpret.” She glanced over her shoulder, then back at me. “What?”

  I just stared at her. “You’re so calm, as if that guy didn’t try to hit you or something.”

  Eve snorted. “Girl, that’s nothing.” The drawl faded from her voice. “I’m trained for this. And not to brag, but I’m good at it. He’ll probably talk his way out of charges, but he knows not to mess around in my city again. I consider that a draw.”

  I wanted to argue, but I decided to take her word for it and move on. Suck it up, Talia. “Was the man he was bothering homeless? My synagogue runs a shelter out of our old downtown building, if he needs a place to stay. It’s close to everything here and walkable.” I pulled a piece of paper from my bag and wrote the info down, then gave it to her.

  She took it and, as we passed the detective who was interpreting, she handed the note off to him.

  We walked the rest of the way back in silence, like we had coming to the creek, but this time it was different. There was still tension between us, but not exactly about our relationship. A block from the station, as we waited for the traffic light to change, Eve turned to me. “You okay?”

  Mostly? I was unsettled by what had just happened, at how easily a situation with a cop could escalate, but my brain would sort it out in its own time. “Yeah.”

  “Good.”

  The next two days seemed to crawl by, but then it was Wednesday night and I was waiting for Eve in the lobby of the college’s auditorium before the concert. We’d driven separately because she’d been called into a last-minute late meeting and, since I’m a klutz, I’d managed to get printer toner all over myself and had needed to change. It had been easier to take two cars.

  I looked around but didn’t see her, then glanced at my phone. I was early, so we still had plenty of time.

  I was just thinking it would be smart to use the bathroom before the concert started when I felt someone come up behind me.

  “What’s a sexy woman like you doing alone?”

  The voice didn’t sound familiar, but the refrain did. I stifled a sigh, pasted a pleasant look on my face, and turned, politeness engrained in me. It took a long few seconds for me to place him, but when I did, I had to stifle a groan.

  His name was Jim . . . something. He’d been a passing acquaintance of Seth’s, not a friend. As a matter of fact, he had been one of the few people Seth had actively disliked. That in and of itself had been a red flag, because Seth had seen the good in almost everyone, but not this guy.

  His eyes narrowed, and then a smarmy smile landed on his florid face. “You’re Wasserman’s wife. Well, his widow, I guess.”

  My stomach turned over at his absolute lack of tact. “He died several years ago, yes.”

  “I’m sure you miss having a man around to take care of you.”

  Oh, yuck. “Actually, we took care of each other. But yes, I miss him every day.”

  “There’s some things a woman can’t do for herself.” Jim, whose last name I still couldn’t remember and now really didn’t want to remember, continued. “If you know what I mean.”

  The air stirred behind me and I smelled apples and cinnamon. Eve stopped by my side, her hand on the small of my back. “And there are some things only women can do for each other. Men not required,” she said, her voice low and smoky with a hint of humor in it. She rubbed her knuckles against my cheek. “Sorry I’m late, babe.”

  Jim What’s-his-name spluttered and backed away, his face a mixture of horror and fascination, and I burst out laughing.

  “Saved by my favorite cop,” I said softly, turning to face her. She’d changed clothes too, and was now wearing a long, flowy dress that flattered her toned curves. I’d only ever seen her in uniform, workout clothes, and, well, half-naked. “You look beautiful. Thanks for the bailout.”

  She grinned that devilish grin I loved so much, but then her mouth tightened. I glanced over to where she was looking and rolled my eyes. The asshole was furtively talking with another man of about the same make and model, and they both stared at us.

  I smiled serenely and waved, then turned back to Eve. “Not sure how much of that you heard.”

  She grimaced. “Enough to realize he knew your husband. Should I apologize for interrupting and outing you?”

  I snorted. “Seth was a great judge of character, and he had no fondness for Jim What’s-his-name. I don’t really care what he thinks. And if anyone has an issue with me dating a woman, they can bite me.”

  Another flash of that devilish smile. “That’s what I’m hoping I get to do later tonight.”

  I flashed hot all over. “Eve!”

  “I’ve been thinking about it since that damn apple, so it’s your own fault.” Her words made me laugh again, so loudly that people turned to look. Eve raised a brow. “Okay, it was funny, but not that funny.”

  “Eve was tempted by an apple.” I wiped a tear, giggle-snorted. “I’m sorry. I can’t help myself.”

  “You’re the kind of person who likes corny jokes and puns, aren’t you?” Eve asked, the amusement ripe in her voice. She put her hand on my back again. “Why don’t we grab our seats?”

  I shook my head. “Bathroom first. Because all that laughing, so . . . yeah.” This time it was Eve who fought a laugh, but she followed me to the ladies’ room. The door was open and the line spilled out into the hallway. “Ugh. Why is this always the case?” I grumbled.

  “Because we have to sit,” Eve said. “So unfair.”

  Several women chuckled, and the usual slew of joking complaints and suggestions followed.

  We seemed to be the end of the line, and by the time I finished, Eve and I were the only ones in the L-shaped restroom. I washed my hands, and when I turned toward where she stood, she put her hands on my hips and pulled me close, kissing me senseless. “I’ve been wanting to do this all day long,” she murmured against my lips. The door around the corner of the L creaked, and she stopped, squeezing my hips once before letting go.

  As the older woman came around the corner, I spun back to the sink and washed my hands again, catching sight of myself in the mirror. My color was high, my cheeks red and my chest flushed. Eve stood behind me, a satisfied look on her face.

  I tossed my paper towel in the bin and leaned close, murmuring in her ear. “And you say I’m bad. You’re a dangerous woman.”

  “You’d better believe it,” she whispered back.

  We left the bathroom and headed to our seats, which were surprisingly good considering the late ticket buying. Of course, in the small auditorium, there weren’t really any bad seats. There was a mix of people in the audience, college age and senior citizen, with a smattering of middle-aged people like Eve and me.

  Eve was approached three times by older women in fancy hats, all asking about her parents and telling her about the new pastor. She was polite, but I could see her patience wearing thin. As the latest woman headed back to her own seat, Eve sighed. “Church ladies. When I talked to my mother last week, she told me the new pastor is a widower and her friends think he needs a wife. They’re still trying to marry me off even though I’m a month shy of fifty.”

  “Do they not know—”

  “Oh, they know I’m gay. I don’t hide it. They just choose to ignore that fact.” She swore under her breath as another woman began to approach. “My mother kept them from hounding me, but now that she and my father are in South Carolina, they’ve been pulling out all the stops. They all think they know a man who’ll make me change my mind, and this month it’s the preacher.”

  That had to be incredibly frustrating. “Want me to hold your hand?”

  “Literally or metaphorically?”

  I laughed. “Both?”

  Before she could reply, the chime telling people to take their seats sounded, and this time her sigh was one of relief. “Saved by the bell.”

  “Amen.”

 
; I leafed through the program and realized I knew one of the performers. And unlike the Neanderthal out in the lobby, Seth had liked Darius Washington a lot, and his wife and I were friends, though it had been far too long since we’d gone out for lunch, something I needed to remedy. I pointed to his name in the program. “Darius is the head of the music department at the high school where Seth was principal. His wife, Regina, is one of my favorite people. She helped keep me sane after Seth died.”

  “Really? Darius and I went to high school together. Small world.”

  “It is. I haven’t seen him play in a while. This’ll be good. I’m glad you asked.” I settled back happily into my seat, and we shared a smile.

  It didn’t take long for the house lights to go down, and when they did Eve’s hand covered mine. I turned mine over and laced my fingers with hers, a sense of contentment filling me.

  Our hands stayed linked as Eve swayed in her seat to the music. Her full-bodied enjoyment of it made me like it even more. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had so much fun at a concert.

  And, as always, Darius was amazing. He’d made his mark with a renowned jazz ensemble and had toured for years, but had returned to his hometown to share his knowledge with others. The kids in his classes were incredibly lucky to have him for a teacher.

  It ended far too soon, but when it was over, rather than leaving, Eve urged me forward to the stage. “We can say hello.”

  I felt a moment of weirdness but then pushed it off. “Sure.”

  When the theater was empty and the house lights went on, Darius came back out on stage to pack up his instruments.

  “Nice job, baby,” I heard from the front row. I hadn’t seen Regina there, but I knew her voice.

  I started over to her, Eve right behind me.

  Darius’s baritone was as deep and wonderful as I’d remembered. “Well, I’ll be. How’re you doing, Talia?”