by Geonn Cannon
"It's okay," Lance said. She held Jodie until the waves of her orgasm receded. She kissed Jodie's lips and then rolled to one side to inspect the wounds on her arm.
Jodie lifted herself and took her phone off the nightstand. She checked the Missed Call log and made a face. "Rebecca." She handed the phone to Lance.
"It can wait."
"No," Jodie said. She ran a hand over her face and wiped the sweat on the blanket. "Go ahead and call."
Lance dialed the phone, and Jodie went to the bathroom. When she returned, she had a wet paper towel. She lifted Lance's arm and dabbed the scratches. After a moment of listening to quiet electronic buzzes, the phone was answered. "Hello, Jodie."
"It's Carmen Landry," Lance said.
"Ah, cutting out the middle man, I see. I hope I didn't interrupt anything." Lance remained silent. "I was just calling to tell you we came to a decision. Two weeks from Friday."
Lance's heart skipped and she wanted to drop the phone. It was already Tuesday, so the big day was only sixteen days away. She only had two and a half weeks left with Jodie.
"Did you hear me?"
"Yeah, I heard you."
"You'll be ready?"
"Don't worry about me," Lance said. She hung up the phone and dropped it on the mattress. She looked at Jodie and said, "Am I going to need stitches?"
Jodie ducked her chin and, though it was hard to tell in the darkness, may have blushed. "No. It's just a little scrape. Barely even broke the skin."
"Jodie," Lance said.
"Uh huh?"
"Sixteen days."
The paper towel stopped moving and Jodie's eyes went blank. She seemed to be turning the number over in her head, trying to make it seem longer than it really was. She swallowed, pressed her lips together and said, "Two weeks."
"Yeah."
"Okay," Jodie whispered. "Two weeks. Now we know."
"Yeah," Lance said. "Now we know." She sat up and drew Jodie back onto the bed. Jodie buried her face against Lance's shoulder and held her, not crying, but desperate to not let go until she absolutely had to.
#
Chapter Eighteen
Over the next two days, Lance and Jodie both pulled double shifts at the garage. Daphne refused to pay them both for double time, but Jodie insisted. "If I'm only going to get two more weeks with you," she said, "I'm not going to spend half of it away from you just because of work."
Hawksley Workman, Josh Ritter, David Bowie and Warren Zevon provided background music to their days. When they didn't have any customers, they sat in lawn chairs at the back of the garage and made small-talk. Thursday afternoon, near the end of the day, Lance joined Jodie outside after she finished with her last car. She watched him cross the parking lot and finally asked the question that had been gnawing at her. "Why didn't you tell me about Tania?"
Jodie looked at her. "What about Tania?"
"That she's a member of the team."
Jodie frowned. "What team?"
Lance met Jodie's eyes and saw that she wasn't trying to be evasive. "Rebecca's team."
Jodie's eyes widened slightly. "She's not. She wouldn't be."
"She was at the meeting on Wednesday. Rebecca said she was going to be working at the target and would make sure the metal detectors were turned off."
Jodie slumped back in her chair. "Motherfucking bitch. Every time I asked Rebecca how we were going to get past the security, she said she had it taken care of. Shit."
"Maybe she was just trying to keep it from being awkward after the two of you broke up."
"Yeah, it would have been much better to walk in on the day and see Tania there with a gun. Jesus Christ."
"It doesn't matter now." Lance said. "I'm just glad you weren't holding it back."
"No. But now that I know she's there, I'll warn you. Watch the bitch. If she thinks there's a chance to prove herself, she'll take it. Either as a bad ass or playing the hero. I don't even know which way she would go now. She used to be so normal. God. Can we talk about something besides psycho ex-girlfriends?"
"Sure. Has Rebecca said anything about why she's doing this?"
"It wasn't her idea. She acts like it is, and she's putting up the money for the team. She's just kind of the puppet master. Hatcher is the one who put it together. It was all his idea. I think he's got a sick kid. Medical bills, maybe. I saw him looking at a picture once."
"And instead of helping him pay the bills, Rebecca decided it would be easier to fund a bank robbery?"
Jodie held her hands out palm-up. "I saw a picture. That's all I know. And that's just hearsay, remember. Hatcher came to Rebecca, and Rebecca found a group of bank robbers—don't ask me how. Maybe she advertised on Craigslist—who were willing to make it happen."
Lance thought about Rebecca's plan. "The money doesn't seem to be the important part. She said to load up the cash until Hatcher was done in the safe deposit vault. When he's done, they walk out no matter how much money they've loaded up."
"That is weird," Jodie said.
Lance nodded. After a moment, she said, "It was never about a dude ranch at all."
Jodie frowned. "That's weirder."
"Sorry," Lance said. "Just thinking about something else. Something that happened in Montana. I just meant the bank robbery might be covering for something else."
Jodie shrugged. "Don't ask me. I was just a driver. I barely got a look at the blueprints for the bank. I was supposed to stay by the door and help corral the customers so the others could focus on the actual robbery. Speaking of locations, where exactly am I going to be?"
"Right here," Lance said. "You'll tell Daphne I got sick, you'll cover for my shift. If all goes well, on Monday you can tell her...hell, whatever you want."
"Because you won't be back."
Lance looked down at her shoes.
"It's okay. I understand."
Lance pressed her fingers to the soft bit of flesh between her nose and her right eye. Never before had she felt the urge to run so strongly, and wanted so badly to be able to stay. She wanted to give Jodie reassurances, wanted to put her mind at ease, but she didn't want to offer anything that sounded like an empty promise. So instead, she said, "Do we have plans for tonight?"
"Just sitting in and being together," Jodie said. "Why, did you want to do something special?"
"That sounds special enough to me." Lance reached over and took Jodie's hand. It was exactly two weeks before the day. She looked at Jodie's fingers and knew she would only be able to hold this hand for two more weeks. She would only be able to sit and talk with Jodie for another fourteen days before she was back on the road. She brought Jodie's hand to her lips and kissed the knuckles. "Maybe they would show leniency."
"To whom?"
"To me. If I turned myself in."
Jodie straightened in her chair. "What? No. Don't even think about that."
"Two weeks from tomorrow, I'm going to be on the run again. Why? Why bother? I have everything I need right here. I want you. Maybe if I stopped running and let them take me in, I'd be out of prison in a few years and I could come back here. You and I could be together."
Jodie was speechless for a full minute before she said, "No. Don't. You're talking about confessing. I won't let you do that. You made a promise to Elaine."
"Jodie..."
"I'm not your first lover. I know what Elaine means to you. And I know it would kill a part of you to do what you're suggesting. I appreciate the thought, I really do. It's, it's unbelievable you would even bring it up. But you can't do that to Elaine, not for me. You just can't."
Lance finally nodded, and Jodie leaned back into her chair. "I had no idea you and Elaine were so tight."
"Yep," Jodie said. A Ford truck pulled into the parking lot and Jodie stood up. "Elaine and me, we're in a very exclusive club. The Tamers of Claire Lance Club." She winked and continued on into the office.
Lance, meanwhile, watched her go with a mixture of shock, heartache, and pleasure. It was exactly the
sort of thing Elaine would have said.
#
Jodie rolled over Friday morning, two weeks exactly before the robbery, and saw Lance sitting on the edge of the bed. Her shoulders were hunched, and she seemed to be staring at the wall. Jodie pushed herself up and wiped her hand over her eyes. "Claire? Baby?"
Lance looked over her shoulder and then looked down at her hands. "Go back to sleep, Jodie."
"Everything okay?" She sniffled and blinked at the clock. Way too early. She yawned and pulled her legs up, resting her head on her knees. "Talk to me, Claire."
"What were you doing three years ago today?"
Jodie frowned. "I don't know. What is today?"
"November fourth."
Jodie thought for a second. "Three years? Oh, that was 2008? That was Election Day, wasn't it? I was waiting in line outside the polling place, probably. Why? What were you doing?"
Lance didn't answer. Jodie shuffled across the mattress and saw the photograph of Elaine in her hands. She rested her chin on Lance's shoulder and suddenly realized the significance of three years in Lance's life. "Oh. Was that the day she..."
"No. She died a few days before. I don't...I don't think about that day. November fourth is the day I left. I've been running ever since."
Jodie ran her hand over Lance's back. "I think it's long enough."
Lance turned and looked into Jodie's eyes. "It's about to make me run again. Two weeks from today, Jodie. I'll be back on the road. I'll be leaving you."
"Come back to bed, Claire."
Lance stretched out on top of the blankets and Jodie curled against her. Jodie took Lance's hand and held it, letting it rest on her stomach. "It's different this time. You're leaving, but you have a place to come back to."
Lance kissed Jodie's forehead.
"Tell me about Elaine."
"I..."
"Please. I want to know her."
Lance wet her lips and stared at the window. The sky was still dark, but a predawn glow was starting to shine on the window. She closed her eyes and said, "Elaine was an artist. She painted such gorgeous things. She called them lost things..."
#
On their way home from work that day, Jodie pulled into a strip mall and parked in front of a barber shop. Lance stared at the painted barber's pole on the glass and slowly turned to look at Jodie. "This isn't a theme restaurant, you know. In case you were confused."
"We're getting a little shaggy. At least I am. I figured we might as well get it out of the way rather than waste time later when it feels like time is rushing by."
Lance shrugged and got out of the car. There were no other customers waiting, so she got into the chair as soon as they arrived. Jodie followed, and they stepped out of the shop barely twenty minutes later. Lance reached up to run a hand through her newly shortened hair. It was even shorter than when she first arrived in Shepherd, probably the shortest her hair had been since she was in grade school. Jodie, on the other hand, still had hair tickling the back of her neck.
She smiled and reached up to thread Lance's hair through her fingers. "Coveralls, wife beater T-shirt, and now a boy cut. Just when I thought you couldn't get any butcher."
Lance swatted Jodie's hand away. "It's not a boy cut."
"Whatever you say, Carl." She chuckled as she unlocked the Torino. "What do you want for dinner?"
"I have an idea," Lance said, "but we'll have to go home to change."
#
They took a quick shower, ostensibly to rid themselves of any loose hairs, and Lance suggested they change into nice clothes. Jodie wore a sleeveless green dress with a wide black belt, her hair up and out of her face. Lance, playing along with Jodie's butch comment, chose a man's dress shirt, a tie, and slacks. Jodie smirked when Lance came out of the bedroom and held out her leather jacket. Lance shrugged into it and Jodie said, "Damn. Mental image complete. I can die happy now."
"Yeah, yeah," Lance said. She helped Jodie into her own coat and bent down to kiss her neck. There was a hint of shampoo on the flesh, and Jodie leaned back against her as Lance explored.
"Claire," Jodie said. "Dinner."
"Right," Lance said.
Jodie turned and extended her elbow to Lance. "So where exactly are you taking me, sir?"
"I figured we should have at least one real, fancy date. No grease, no French fries, maybe even a wine list."
"I'll try not to eat with my fingers," Jodie said with an overdone Southern accent.
Lance let Jodie drive, pressing her hand to the ceiling a few times when she took a corner too fast, and gave her directions to the restaurant she had picked. It was a low brick building with strategically placed lights aimed at the front door and windows. Despite the spotlights, the windows were shaded and dark, the building surrounded by thick greenery.
Jodie parked in the mostly empty parking lot and looked the building over. "It's lovely. I don't think I've ever eaten here before."
"I was worried," Lance said. "It's called the Green Carnation. It doesn't exclusively cater to homosexual couples, but...well, it does all right."
Jodie raised her eyebrows. "Wow. Why have you heard of this but I haven't?"
"There was a matchbook in one of the cars I worked on last week. It had the restaurant's name, and a little cartoon of two men holding hands. So I checked it out. I was going to bring you here before. I've been planning to bring you here for a while." She opened the door and ushered Jodie inside.
The foyer was pentagonal, with benches lining the windows on either side. A hostess podium stood sentry in the doorway, and a young blonde woman in a white shirt and a green tie smiled and waited for them to approach. "Good evening, welcome to the Green Carnation. Smoking or non-smoking?"
"Non-smoking," Lance said.
"Couple or not?"
Jodie took Lance's hand and said, "What do you think, sweetheart?"
The girl smiled and said, "I kind of assumed. Right this way."
"She assumed because you're so butch," Jodie said sotto voce. "And old."
Lance nudged her so hard that Jodie nearly stumbled into a waitress.
#
After dinner, they left the restaurant and walked to the edge of the parking lot. They sat on a concrete wall that separated the lot from a side street. They let their feet dangle, and Jodie braced her hands on the wall to keep from falling. Lance looked over at her and said, "Are you okay?"
"Just a little nervous about heights. Especially heights over a lot of moving cars."
Lance put her arm around Jodie's shoulders and pulled her close.
"Great. Now if I fall, at least we'll both die."
Lance chuckled and turned Jodie's head. They kissed, and Jodie relaxed in her arms.
"You're so good for me, Claire."
"I was about to say the same thing."
Jodie smiled and looked past the street to the gentle hills straight across from them. "Where all have you been?"
"You mean running?" Jodie rested her head on Lance's shoulder and nodded. "Ohio. Texas, Oklahoma. Salt Lake City. Yellowstone Park. Montana."
"At least running got you that," Jodie said. "You got to see a lot of beautiful country. Things you might not have gotten to see otherwise."
"I can think of one beautiful thing running has gotten me." She squeezed Jodie's shoulder.
Jodie said, "Your Mustang isn't that nice."
Lance laughed.
"I think..." Jodie bit her lip, "I probably shouldn't say what I think."
"Go ahead," Lance said.
"I don't mean to be sacrilegious. Or whatever the appropriate term is. But sometimes when I'm lying next to you watching you sleep—"
"When you're what?"
"Stay on topic. Sometimes I wonder if maybe there's a chance Elaine sent you to me. Or me to you. You know? Maybe she thought it was time for you to move on. Maybe she thought it was okay. I don't want to offend you."
"No," Lance said. "I'm not offended." She pulled Jodie to her. "I think that's a very
nice thought. I was thinking the same thing this morning when I was looking at her picture." She kissed Jodie's temple and smelled her hair. "Do you want to go home?"
Jodie didn't answer for a moment, but then said, "Yeah."
"Stay there." Lance said. She got to her feet, stepped back, and took Jodie's hands. She helped Jodie up and pulled her away from the edge with one smooth move. Jodie smiled, ending up pressed against Lance's chest. "Nice."
"I try." She slid her hand into Jodie's and walked with her toward their car.
"Claire, when you said 'home,' did you mean—"
"Our apartment," Lance said. "Home."
"I like the sound of that," Jodie said quietly.
They drove home without a word, and Jodie led Lance up the stairs. In the apartment, Jodie turned on the lamp next to the couch and turned to Lance. "Do you want something to drink? Or—"
"No," Lance said. She pulled Jodie to her, kissing her hard. Jodie moaned into Lance's mouth and guided them to the couch, dropping heavily onto the cushions. She guided Lance's hand to her thigh, and Lance ran her hand over the material of Jodie's stockings. Jodie tugged Lance's shirt out of her pants, both of them breathing hard by the time Jodie reached up to loosen Lance's tie. "Wait, wait," Lance whispered against Jodie's lips.
"Let me do this," Jodie said.
"I will. Just...hold that thought." She stood up, bending down to kiss Jodie again before she reluctantly pulled away from the couch. "I'll be right back."
Jodie watched Lance disappear into the bedroom and pushed her hair out of her face. She smoothed her dress back down, slipped out of her shoes to curl her toes in the carpet, and checked her watch. She considered slipping a hand under her dress, just so she would be ready to pick up where they left off, but she held off. She slumped down on the couch, looked at the ceiling, and finally checked her watch again. What was taking so long?
She turned and looked down the long hallway to her bedroom. "Claire? Everything okay?" When there was no answer, she stood and walked down the hallway.
The bedroom door was standing open and the moonlight seemed to shine on the bed like a spotlight. Lance's leather jacket lay on the foot of the bed, along with the slacks she had worn to dinner. Jodie stepped into the room and searched the small space for Lance. "Claire?"