No More Pretending

by Bette Hawkins

  They were quiet for a moment, both of them staring at the fireplace.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” Harper asked.

  “I don’t feel like I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing with my life,” Lauren said. It was the first thought she could pluck from her brain, the first one that didn’t pertain to Harper or how attractive she was. Besides, the fire was making her reflective.

  Harper blinked at her and then smiled. “Okay, you don’t mess around. Starting off deep.”

  Lauren shook her head, laughing at herself. “I’ve never been that great at small talk.”

  “No, it’s okay. I like that. And I mean, I can relate. Tell me what you want to be doing.”

  How could Lauren explain, knowing how ridiculous she must sound? She was aware that a lot of people wanted a life like the one she had. She had wanted it too, once, and she had worked hard to get where she was now. Feeling ungrateful for her success was part of the reason why she felt so guilty most of the time. It wasn’t fair that she had so much money, more than any one person had a right to have, and she couldn’t even appreciate it. She didn’t do anything to earn it, not really. There were people so much more deserving than she was.

  The last time she had felt truly fulfilled by work was when she was doing Edge of the Sea. When she had written that script,she wasn’t famous like she was now. She was practically an unknown back then, and there wasn’t the sense that anyone was watching her or that there was anything to lose. Now her situation was very different, and people would love to tear her to pieces. Nobody thought of her as a writer. She knew how people would react if she tried something and it didn’t work out. But she wished she had the confidence to try.

  “It’s nothing important,” Lauren said finally. “I just sometimes feel like I’m wasting my time with these movies. I’m just helping add more mindless garbage to the world.”

  Harper sipped from her mug. “I don’t mean to dismiss the way you’re feeling. I’m not going to act as though I think movies like Texas Twistare fine art, but I don’t think they’re a waste either.”

  “I don’t mean to sound snobby. I know Sal’s talented and that a lot of people like romantic stuff. I just can’t really relate to it myself,” Lauren explained.

  “Me neither, if I’m honest. But you have to admit they make a lot of people happy. Who are we to say what’s worthwhile and what’s not, if people get pleasure from them? People want to think about love being real. That’s worth making movies about.”

  “But it’s never simple in real life though. These movies don’t represent anything like what love actually is.”

  “Maybe not. But you’ve only got ninety minutes or so to tell a story, so some things just aren’t going to make that final cut,” Harper said. “It’s not really supposed to be real life, is it? Nobody would watch that.”

  “You make a good point.” She had quickly come to trust Harper’s opinion, and liked the way she was able to cast things in a different light.

  “Yep. And besides, in my experience, love can be simple. Maybe not like in the movies, but still. Nobody teaches us or tells us whom to love. It just finds you.”

  Lauren wasn’t aware of having any expression at all on her face, but she knew that she must have given herself away when Harper looked concerned. “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?”

  Lauren tried to brighten. “Of course not. It’s just never found me, that’s all. I’ve never really been in love.”

  Lauren tried to say it like it was no big deal, like it was just another fact about herself. The truth was that she had never said that out loud to anyone, never quite admitted to love’s absence even to people who knew her well. It had always felt more important to her to act experienced and on top of everything. In some ways she was experienced, but the relationships that she’d had never seemed to really touch her. There was always a distance between her and the women she dated. It would be easy to blame it on the constraints she lived with because of her work, but that wasn’t the only reason. She worried that the problem was with her. She had always been afraid that there was something about her that made her incapable of sustaining a relationship.

  Lauren felt like she could tell Harper the whole story of her life and be understood. She could tell her about the constant moving from place to place. The parents who had walked in and out of her life, leaving her with whichever relatives were willing to take her at the time. Harper might be willing to listen to the way it had made her feel like she was never on solid ground. She had always been a guest in this place or that and never really felt accepted anywhere. Maybe Harper would understand why Lauren had found it so hard to trust people even before her most recent mistakes. Maybe Lauren could even tell Harper about Angela.

  Yet the last thing she wanted was for Harper to think of her as messed up, or as a person that she should feel sorry for. She had spent her whole life trying to outrun such assumptions and attitudes. Lauren stayed silent.

  “Never?” Harper asked, and Lauren was relieved that she could detect nothing pitying in her tone. When Lauren shook her head, Harper reached over and grasped her fingers just for a second. “You will, if that’s what you want.”

  Lauren’s stomach fluttered, and she took a calming sip from her mug. She’d wanted to grab Harper’s fingers and not let them go. “What about you?”

  “Sure, I’ve been there once or twice. Nothing earth-shattering, but I had a good thing going on for a couple of years once.”

  “Oh, sorry.” Lauren ducked her head, realizing that she had been misunderstood. “I meant to ask about work. You said you could relate before to how I was feeling.”

  Harper laughed. “Oh, I see. Yes, I can relate. Technically I’m a lawyer, but I haven’t worked as one since I came back home a couple of years ago. So that’s what I feel like I should be doing.”

  “You’re a lawyer?”

  “I guess I don’t really think of myself as that anymore. I came home a few years ago for a bunch of reasons and my career stalled. I keep thinking I’ll go back to it one day, but I’m not sure.”

  Lauren thought she detected something of her own wistfulness in Harper’s tone. It seemed there were decisions that they both regretted, lives that they had both wanted to lead and didn’t have the strength or the courage to follow through on. It made her feel closer to Harper.

  They talked into the night. It was difficult for Lauren to imagine that they would ever run out of subjects to discuss, because their words ran swiftly from one topic to the next. Their dialogue switched back and forth between the deep and the trivial, but Lauren never felt bored by it. Every now and then she would get up to make them another hot drink. The first time she did it, she took a moment in the kitchen to marvel that this was all going so wonderfully. It was even better than the night before had been, because they were really alone and there was no alcohol or distractions.

  They were talking about a writer they both admired, and whom Lauren had been lucky enough to meet, when Harper glanced at the clock on the wall. “Wow, it’s really late. I should probably be getting going.”

  “I can drive you home. I only had that one glass of wine over dinner.”

  “Thank you, it would be great to not have to walk back in this weather.”

  The rain had been steadily falling outside, punctuated by the occasional clap of thunder. Lauren had always loved these types of storms—she had been able to smell this one coming in the air all day. She watched while Harper stretched and yawned, her back arching and her chest moving forward. Lauren swallowed hard as she watched the movement and had to force her eyes away. Lauren didn’t actually want to take Harper home, and she had the sense that Harper didn’t really want to go either. She wished she had the nerve to ask her to stay.

  As soon as they opened the door, Lauren realized how much worse the weather was than she had thought. The driveway was flooded and the rain was coming down in thick sheets. A burst of lightning came, beautiful forks of it running o
ver the black sky. There was a second when it was as bright as midday.

  Lauren could swear for a moment she felt something between them, a leaping toward one another. She wanted to reach out and put her hand on Harper’s shoulder and slide it through her hair.

  Finally, Harper broke the silence. “I can’t let you drive in this! Maybe I should call my dad, see if he can pick me up…” she said doubtfully.

  Lauren stepped back into the hall, holding the door open and beckoning Harper inside. “It’s so late and your dad’s not going to find it any easier to drive in this than I would. Why don’t you just stay here?”

  “Thanks, but I’ll figure something out. I don’t want to impose.”

  “Don’t be silly. You won’t be. You’re more than welcome,” Lauren said, forcing herself to sound light and breezy.

  When Harper agreed, Lauren went into motion, focusing on the practical tasks that needed to be done so she wouldn’t have to think too much. She went to the bedroom, rifling through her drawers until she found a long shirt that Harper could sleep in. She walked back out to the living room with the shirt and her own pajamas. She was awkwardly carrying a spare blanket and pillow under her arm, and she dropped them onto the sofa. When she was done, she held out the shirt to Harper.

  “Here. You can sleep in this. There’s a bathroom off my room, you’ll find a new toothbrush in the top drawer. I’ll sleep out here,” Lauren said in a rush. It was doubtful that she would be able to sleep, even considering how tired she was—not with the awareness of the fact that Harper was lying in the next room. Harper looked between the sofa and Lauren.

  “I don’t really like the idea of pushing you out of your bed,” Harper said.

  “It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

  “I should take it.”

  Lauren shook her head. “No, please.” She didn’t mind her own discomfort, but she knew very well that the short sofa was too small for either of them. She would have to sleep in a very awkward position.

  “C’mon, we’ll both sleep in the bed. You don’t have a single bed, do you?” Harper called out, already walking into the bedroom.

  Lauren didn’t reply. Harper would see for herself that her bed was more than big enough for two. It had been one of the many selling points of this cottage, the big, pillowy, king-sized bed. She could just get on the sofa and not follow Harper into the bedroom, because any further insistence on Harper’s part would be strange. However, friends slept in the same bed together all of the time, and she didn’t want to make an issue out of it. Harper obviously felt comfortable in her company and didn’t think it was a big deal to share a bed, so neither should she.

  She knew she was going to do what Harper was asking her to because she wanted to. It was pathetic, but she loved the idea of being in the same bed with Harper, of sleeping next to her and being so close.

  Lauren moved into the main bathroom and prepared for bed. She took her time over cleaning her teeth and washing her face, hoping that Harper would already be asleep by the time she was done. When she tiptoed into the bedroom, she saw Harper’s form curled over onto her side. The room was dark save for the light of the lamp on her nightstand. Lauren crawled into the bed gingerly, trying to not disturb Harper, then rolled over and turned off her lamp. The click was painfully loud and she braced, wondering if Harper would stir.

  It was sweet torture, the way she felt. She could roll over and touch her, if only Harper wanted her to. It couldn’t be true, it must only be wishful thinking, but she had felt intimacy between them tonight that made the thought seem not so crazy. Even if she were right Lauren knew she could never act upon her feelings. What kind of a person would she be if she couldn’t stick to her resolve to avoid attachments for even a couple of months? After Angela, she was supposed to be keeping to herself.

  Lauren closed her eyes and tried to relax. Despite the tension that arose from being in this situation, she was weary. A sudden jolt of fear raced through her and she jumped like she’d had a falling dream, the kind that came upon her when she was closest to sleep. In her half-awake state it had occurred to her that someone might have seen Harper come into her house and never leave it.

  If someone wanted to dig around, they might find out about Harper’s sexuality. She was so open about it that anyone could find out if they asked questions of the right people. Just because Lauren hadn’t seen the paparazzi yet didn’t mean that there wasn’t one or two in the area, just waiting to catch her at something. It wouldn’t be the first time that they had sought her out with long lenses. She had long ago learned that they were willing to go to any lengths for a shot they could sell. The fact that she and Harper hadn’t actually done anything meant nothing, they only needed a grain of truth and they could fabricate the rest.

  When she jumped, she felt Harper put a hand out. It came to rest on her thigh over the sheet for a moment. Lauren was desperate to touch Harper, need threatening to overcome her. It was worse when Harper took her hand away and she became sure that it had only been an unconscious gesture.

  Lauren folded herself up carefully to make sure she wasn’t close to Harper’s side of the bed. Yet, when she closed her eyes, Harper was all that she thought of.

  Chapter Nine

  The birds were singing outside when Harper woke up. The curtains were heavy enough that she could only see light where it bordered the thick material. They hadn’t been long in bed, but the need to go to the bathroom pressed her awake. She figured she could get to the en suite without waking Lauren if she were quiet. Then she could come back to bed. It was unbelievably cozy, and she wanted to stay for as long as she could.

  As she rolled out of bed and her feet landed softly on the thick carpet, she looked over her shoulder. Lauren was lying on her back with an arm flung over her head. The sheet covered her up to the waist. Harper guiltily noted the thinness of her tank top, the lines of Lauren’s beautiful body clear. What struck her most however, was the peaceful expression on Lauren’s face. She knew by now that Lauren wasn’t a grumpy person and that she had a great sense of humor. Still there was a subtle darkness to her most of the time. Lauren always looked like she was thinking about something important. Her features were always just an inch away from a frown.

  Not now. Now she looked relaxed and almost blissful. Harper sat for a moment watching her, the beauty enough to astound her.

  Harper crept to the bathroom and then back again. Before getting into the bed she picked up the glass of water Lauren had thoughtfully placed there and took a long drink. When she glanced back over again, she saw that Lauren’s eyes were wide open.

  The room was darkened but not so much that Lauren wouldn’t be able to see that she was standing there in nothing but a shirt and underwear. Harper was taller than Lauren, so the shirt didn’t cover her up all that much. She felt almost naked under Lauren’s gaze. She had a crazy urge to pull her shirt over her head, to reveal herself. It felt too still to speak or apologize so Harper got back into bed and lay on her side. As she felt Lauren’s heat beside her, her breath quickened. She slowed it down deliberately.

  It was much later when she woke up again, and this time she was alone. She sat up, looked at the digital clock on the nightstand, and saw it was already nine. Harper put out her hand and could feel that the bed was still warm. Lauren must not have been up for long.

  Harper yawned and went into the en suite to get dressed in yesterday’s clothes. As she neared the kitchen, she could smell coffee brewing. Harper stood in the doorway and watched Lauren for just a moment. Her face was scrubbed clean of makeup and her hair was tied carelessly back, with dark strands framing her face. Lauren was barefoot and was still in her tank top and some comfortable-looking shorts. The sight of her bare legs shot through Harper; she wished she could touch Lauren’s skin. From where she was standing Harper could only see her profile, but there was enough of her face visible that Harper could see that she was frowning. Harper wanted badly to put her arms around her, to smooth that brow again.
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  “Good morning,” Harper said.

  Lauren jumped as though caught at something, and then she smiled. “Sorry. Can I get you a coffee?”

  Harper accepted gratefully. Her eyes were bleary and tired, not having slept much at all over the past couple of nights. She sipped her coffee, and they stood in silence. Lauren was drinking her coffee while she leaned up against the countertop, jogging her leg up and down. Harper wanted to still it with her hand, but didn’t know that the touch would be welcome. Harper had a suspicion that if she didn’t offer to leave Lauren would come up with some reason why she needed to go out. She wasn’t sure why things were so awkward this morning. That moment between them in the dawn felt ridiculously charged to her, but nothing had actually happened. Maybe Lauren was just tired.

  Despite the unease she felt in their good-byes there was a spring in Harper’s step as she walked home. The last couple of days, spending so much time with Lauren, had been wonderful. It brought the loneliness of her life into stark focus. Lauren kept surprising her with the quiet way she had of being kind and compassionate.

  It had been interesting to hear Lauren say that she had never been in love. The relationship with Josh must have ended badly or must not have been very deep. Harper had always thought there was nothing wrong with being single. She also believed that the pressure society placed on people to be coupled up was ridiculous. Still, everyone deserved to feel love, and she could see that it upset Lauren. Her eyes were so sad when she talked about that.

  It was clear that Lauren had gone to a lot of trouble over cooking dinner for the two of them. Everything was made from scratch and was delicious. Harper would love to return the favor and invite Lauren over for a Southern home cooked meal, but they weren’t the sort of family who entertained very often. In fact, she didn’t think they’d had anyone over to dinner since her mother died. It had been a while since she wished she had her own place, as she just wasn’t ready for Lauren to meet her family. There was so much sadness in her home. The memory of her mother’s death lingered in every square inch of it.