Identity

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Identity Page 11

by Nat Burns


  “He’s such an asshole,” she said, spinning the phone on the placemat.

  “And you thought you could talk to him?” asked Tom, studying the task at hand and not Liza.

  “I’d hoped,” Liza fumed. “Mary called me yesterday and asked me to. It wasn’t my idea. Hell, I avoid him when I can.”

  “Smart move,” Rich said, rising and placing his bowl in the sink.

  Tom chuckled and brought his breakfast to the table. “You and Steve have always been oil and water,” Tom pointed out unnecessarily.

  “It’s just ’cause she likes girls. He was okay until she came out with that gal in high school,” Rich added.

  “Shut up, brat,” Liza said. “Don’t you have a job to go to?”

  “No, too early, dumb-ass.”

  He grabbed a banana from the bowl on the counter and slammed the kitchen door as he left.

  Tom rose, sandwich in hand, and hurried after him. “Where are you going?”

  Liza could hear his muffled reply through the screen door. He was going to help his best friend, Brady, work on a dune buggy but would be back later to mow the grass, obviously something he’d promised his father he would do.

  Another sound penetrated: Chloe’s car.

  “Here comes trouble,” Tom muttered as he held the door wide and stood patiently as Chloe greeted her brother. Moments later, she was in the kitchen. Today she carried only her data phone and a folder. She appeared practically ethereal without her usual baggage.

  “Hey, Pop, how’re you feeling?” She kissed his cheek as she brushed past.

  “Can’t complain,” he said cheerfully. “I’ll see you gals later. I’m going for a little stroll.”

  Liza grinned, knowing Pop’s craving for peace had won out over his familial duties. And his second cup of coffee. She turned to Chloe.

  “Hey, chickie, what brings you over?”

  Chloe sat at the table and pushed the folder toward her sister. “I got the stuff on Miss Virginia Faith Raynor. Looks to me like she is definitely gay.”

  Liza let a slow sexy grin of reminiscence escape, and Chloe, ever the quick one, noted it right away.

  “Oh, ho. I guess I don’t need to tell you this, obviously.” She leaned forward eagerly. “Okay, spill it. What happened? All the details.”

  “Well, not all the details,” Liza said as if shocked. “I was at the Folly yesterday and she came down and…”

  Chloe’s jaw dropped. “You didn’t, Liza. Not at the Folly!?”

  Liza laughed and rose to get more coffee because she knew Chloe would be in hers directly. “No, goose, we went up to her house. We had a great time, then Shay got sad and I held her and…well, it was fantastic. She fits me like a glove, know what I mean?”

  She resumed her seat and passed the cup of hot coffee and the milk jug to her sister. Chloe took her time and prepared the coffee with lots of milk and sugar. Sighing, Liza rose and poured another cup, black, for herself.

  “I’m not sure,” Chloe mused thoughtfully. “I don’t know as I’ve ever had that. Men are just real different, I think.”

  Liza nodded with raised eyebrows. “Yeah, you could say that. Anyway, what did you find out?”

  “Heck, you probably know more than I do,” Chloe said with a knowing smirk.

  “This family is gonna be the death of me,” Liza moaned, holding her face with both hands.

  “Drama queen.”

  Chloe lifted the folder and splayed its contents across the table. Liza saw several photocopied newspaper clips and several pages of text. She lifted one small photo of a young woman with short, cropped hair and dynamic blue eyes. Her large, toothy smile was engaging and fun loving. But cocky too.

  “Who is this?” she asked.

  “Great hairdresser, huh?” Chloe said, clearly referring to the woman’s blond hair which was clipped into a severe military style. “This is Dorothy Presley Pope. She hurt Shay pretty badly, putting her in the hospital twice. They were together several years ago, and Shay tried to break it off, probably because of the abuse. She moved all the way to the other side of DC, but Pope just wouldn’t let it go. This bitch can’t take no for an answer. Get this.”

  She took a deep breath.

  “Turns out Shay was this big-time dog trainer, registered with the Westminster group and everything. Pope found out where she was, came to her house one night, and, because Shay wasn’t home, I guess, she killed, killed, all Shay’s dogs, like six of them.”

  Liza gasped, eyes wide.

  “And some of the dogs weren’t even hers but were big-dollar dogs that she was training. Some were pets too…” Chloe stopped and perused one of the articles.

  “Hattie,” Liza murmured, tears welling in her eyes. It hurt her heart to think of the pain Shay must have suffered.

  “Yes, I think there was a Hattie mentioned, but it was a longer name. My friend Connie, over at the Post, said it was horrible. Even the diehards at the paper were upset about it. The police photographer told Connie he cried when he had to take the photos,” Chloe added.

  Liza sat forward and pressed her fingertips to her eyelids. “So what happened to Dorothy? I hope they threw the jail on top of her.”

  “Yep, she’s at Rivers Correctional. Not due to appear for parole for another two years. Destruction of property and attempt to commit bodily.”

  Liza blew out a lungful of air. This certainly explained Shay’s rampant fear. If Pope had stalked her once, she might do so again. It was a wonder she hadn’t gone crazy. Liza now understood Shay’s unceasing fear and certainly sympathized. She also realized Pope was in prison. Maybe by the time the woman was released, Shay would have a better grip on her own personal power and be more unafraid. Liza made a mental vow to support her in this. And to protect her at all costs.

  Chloe sat back and sipped her coffee. She watched Liza. “Has she told you any of this?”

  Liza shook her head in the negative.

  “So, what now?” Chloe asked. “Are you going to tell her that you know?”

  “That’s a real good question,” Liza replied thoughtfully.

  After Chloe left, Liza walked outside to the garden and dialed the number Shay had given her the night before. Shay picked up immediately.

  “Liza?”

  “Hey, I miss you. Can I come over? What are you doing?”

  Shay laughed. “Cleaning, of course. Don’s coming and I want the house to look at least marginally acceptable.”

  “He’s coming to see you, not your house,” Liza scolded gently. She lifted the water hose with her right hand and pulled it out, placing the length so it would saturate the soil along the top of the row heads in the garden. She brushed against a clump of confederate jasmine and the strong, early morning scent washed across her in a pleasant fog.

  “Want me to come help?”

  “Oh no,” Shay said quickly. “I know how much we’d get done. Like yesterday. Remember?”

  “Mmmm,” Liza breathed. “Won’t forget that anytime soon. But, hey, how about a reminder, just in case?”

  “You Southerners are insatiable,” Shay drawled playfully. “Can y’all wait until this evening? Y’all can come for suppah.”

  “It would be my esteemed honor, Miss Scarlett, to dine with you this evening. But only if you allow me to bring my favorite pizza.”

  “Why, Rhett, you are too, too gracious. I would love to try your pizza, and I shall supply the cold, frothy beverage to go with it.”

  They laughed companionably and, after agreeing on a time, signed off. Liza was troubled thinking about seeing Shay again. How would she broach the subject of her purloined knowledge?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  A simple kiss hello turned into something much more that evening. The veggie-laden pizza ended up warming the kitchen counter as Liza warmed Shay in the bedroom.

  A primal hunger filled Shay as Liza’s sun-heated hands stroked across her bare skin. Liza’s touch was reverent, and she studied Shay’s pale skin as if it
were encrusted with colorful, mesmerizing jewels. This adoration made Shay feel heated. Much desired. She responded with languid ardor, torn by her increasing need for Liza’s passion and for the seductive security of Liza’s presence. Her hands found Liza’s and pressed the strong, callused palms harder into her flesh. She wanted to feel Liza as deeply as possible. She needed to feel her completely.

  Liza seemed to understand. She lifted her dark, expressive eyes to Shay’s, then fell into her kiss once more, hands pressing and caressing roughly. Liza’s familiar scent surrounded her, making her head swim in a good way. She pressed her cheek to the slope of Liza’s lean ribcage, breathing her in. She smoothed the long, lean planes of the other woman’s body with her hands as if memorizing each line.

  Liza’s fingers entwined with Shay’s, and Shay studied the contrasting skin tones and textures, laying the clasped hands on her own white belly. Slowly Liza brought the hands down across the purple lizard tattoo until she pressed Shay’s fingers into the pale golden curls at the apex of her thighs. She pressed the fingers there rhythmically until Shay gasped. With a final reassuring press, she left Shay’s hand there so both her hands would be free to explore.

  She cupped Shay’s breasts and suckled them slowly. She took her time, releasing one breast before capturing the other with her soft, scorching lips. She placed her muscular thigh across both of Shay’s thighs, pressing her moist center just below Shay’s hip as she lay half across the smaller woman.

  Shay felt Liza’s hot mouth suckling her and felt her mind drift away. She couldn’t identify her new destination; it was as if she floated high above both of them, unchained and detached from the earth below. From that vantage point, she could see that the only things holding her spirit to her body were the crimson tentacles of pleasure emanating from and spreading across her passive form. She could see Liza’s muscles in the sleek, golden thigh and arm across her, and she took a moment to admire them amidst the crimson, accepting that they further helped prevent her ascent into space. Her own right hand moved across the bright, swelling mound of her sex, moisture rising in tentacles of blue. Every circle formed by her pressing fingers released more blue tentacles into the air to combine with the crimson ribbons around both of them. The color shrouding them was becoming a regal purple.

  “I can see them,” she murmured, finding her voice with some difficulty.

  Liza was breathing deeply, her breath warm against Shay’s neck. “What, baby? What do you see?” she said softly. She studied Shay’s closed eyes, as if marveling at what thoughts might be birthing behind them.

  “Hold me down, Liza,” she whispered, using both arms to shift Liza’s weight atop her. She felt more grounded then, and she eagerly pulled Liza’s lips forward to feast upon hers.

  Liza pressed their hips together, pushing herself into Shay. Shay responded with thrusts of her own, eventually wrapping her legs around Liza’s hips to bring them as close as possible. Liza reached down and stroked Shay firmly, four fingers and palm entering easily. She watched Shay’s face as she pressed into her, enjoying the play of emotions that crossed her features. Liza pressed repeatedly until Shay was just crossing the threshold of orgasm, her mouth open and face rigid with need.

  Liza brutally drew her hand away. She lifted her weight off Shay, kneeling between the speckled, alabaster thighs.

  “Strawberries,” she whispered as she leaned into the feast spread before her. Her tongue meandered slowly, then flicked against Shay’s throbbing clit, once to tease, twice to agonize and thrice to energize. Shay grabbed Liza’s shoulders and held them with surprising strength. Liza looked up and found Shay watching her, blue eyes blazing.

  “Fuck me,” she said, her voice brooking no protest, no alternative.

  Liza smiled. The woman was fierce. Liza knew she could be just as fierce. Kneeling and grasping Shay’s leg, she flipped her onto her stomach and, reaching around her waist with her left arm, pulled Shay’s sweet, rounded bottom against her own hips. Her right hand found Shay’s passion-slicked folds from the front, fingers pulsing against her clit. Her face was buried in Shay’s abundance of hair; her breast tips found excitement on Shay’s smooth back. They moved together until Liza’s other hand roamed down behind and found a home inside Shay’s wetness. She shifted slightly sideways so she could go deep and hard, and Shay stopped breathing. She stilled for a moment. But only for a moment. Then she was pushing her entire body onto Liza’s arm, her vocal sounds strange and wonderful and raising a fever in Liza. When Shay came, Liza felt it as a jolt through her own clit. Pressing her thighs together, she found her own orgasm as they collapsed together into a panting, glistening pile of satiation.

  “Oh…my…God,” Liza said sometime later, when her heart had skipped just about enough and had settled into a normal rhythm. “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

  Shay, nestled into Liza’s curved form, sighed and pushed her heavy hair back from her face. She twisted so she could press a soft kiss to Liza’s swollen lips. “I hope there’s pizza here in heaven,” she said, “’cause I’m starving.”

  Liza groaned. “So you’re telling me you’ve worked up an appetite? For pizza?”

  Shay laughed and slowly rose, pulling Liza from the bed. “One feast at a time, sweetheart. Let’s not be gluttons.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Leaving Shay in the wee morning hours had been tough, but Liza wasn’t up to explaining the new relationship to her father just yet. Plus she’d have to listen to crap from Rich. Few could fail to notice the beaming smile of satiation she wore Tuesday morning, however. Or her excellent mood.

  She rose early and, wearing only a muscle shirt and obscenely short shorts, retreated outside just as the sun layered heat and light into the dewy wetness of her garden. She absolutely loved this time of day. Even though she’d had little rest the night before, the dawn energized her. As did her new relationship with Shay. She wondered when they’d fallen in love. Could she define it, explain it? She shook her head as she weeded a row of Italian green beans. There was no explanation. The sensual and spiritual connection they’d forged went beyond words. Trust was a big aspect of it, and Liza knew now how much she trusted Shay with her heart. Her only hope, and it was a hope that grew each time they were together, was that Shay would come to trust her just as much.

  The weeds were sparse today and she was glad to see it. The fecundity of spring’s new growth had finally eased a bit. The beans, however, were getting a good size on them and would be ready in little more than a week. She looked around after checking the rest of the row. The garden stretched from the orchard all the way to the house, almost a mile of orderly greenery. She realized suddenly that she couldn’t even weed it all herself. It was a real worry that had begun to nag at her just a little bit. Still she was very proud of what she’d wrought.

  Eagerly she leapt back into her work, weeding, hoeing and clipping overgrowth as completely as possible. Several hours later, invigorated instead of tired, she paused and decided it wasn’t perfect but would certainly do. She was done for the day. She stepped out of the growing heat and into the coolness of the kitchen.

  “Well, good morning, early bird,” Tom said. He stood over the coffeemaker looking not quite awake.

  Rich stood at the refrigerator, looking undecided.

  “Y’all want me to cook breakfast?” Liza asked.

  Rich looked at his sister and made a face of disgust. “Yuk, you’re filthy. And go put some clothes on, why don’t you?”

  “I’ll take care of him, Liza, go ahead and clean up,” Tom told her, as he playfully slapped at the back of Rich’s head.

  Later, after she’d showered and dressed for the day, Tom noted her good mood. His reaction was to smile more broadly himself, albeit with a confused expression. They made small talk until Liza realized she needed to tell him that she wouldn’t be home for dinner again.

  “Umm, Pop,” she began at breakfast as soon as Rich retreated to his bedroom. “You know I met
this new friend, Shay, right?”

  Tom leaned back in his chair, donning his thoughtful face. He nodded.

  “Well, she has these friends coming in from DC today and wants me to meet them at dinner tonight. You okay with that? I really hate leaving you…”

  Tom smiled and leaned forward. He placed his large hand over Liza’s. “You know, asking you to come here and live wasn’t meant to subject you to a life in prison, Liza, taking care of me day after day and forgetting about yourself. I want you to have your own life.”

  “I know, Pop, but I worry you might need something or get nauseated from the treatments again.”

  He shook his head. “The worst of that’s over, honey. You know that. Besides, Rich is off tonight. It’ll be guys’ night in. Go. Have fun.”

  Liza patted his hand with her free one, her thoughts drifting to seeing Shay again.

  “By the way, is Shay what’s making you so happy lately?” He cocked his head to one side, his blue eyes gentle.

  Liza dropped her eyes, trying not to blush. “Yeah,” she said, “she’s pretty great.”

  “I’m glad, pumpkin. It’s time you moved on, had someone special.”

  She studied him then, remembering that he was alone now. “I wish Mom was still here,” she whispered. “I miss her so much this time of year.”

  Tom sighed. “Me too. She is proud of you, you know. You’ve accomplished so much and you’re just a downright good person. That meant so much to her.”

  Liza couldn’t answer because a huge knot had formed in her throat. She blinked her eyes and nodded, letting him know she’d heard.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “You’re not serious,” Liza looked up at Carol and Chris, her expression incredulous. “This one?”

  Carol shrugged. “’Fraid so. Her name is Peaches.”

  “Peaches.” Liza turned critical eyes and studied the young shelter dog that Shay had fallen madly in love with.

 

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