by Rachel Lacey
I was content with my life the way it was, working at the shelter and fostering dogs, spending time with my family, and, hopefully soon, buying a home of my own. I’d love to add love to the mix, but it hadn’t come my way yet, at least not since high school. Many of the women I met at V and V were just passing through, and while a fling could be fun, I wasn’t interested in a long-distance relationship. Vermont was my home, and I never intended to leave. I wanted to fall in love with a local woman, and I didn’t mind waiting for it to happen.
I put Blue in his crate before I left, while Minnie got the run of the apartment. Then I got into my SUV and drove to downtown Burlington. As I pushed through the door into the bar, I gave it a quick scan to see if I recognized anyone. There were a few regulars that I usually hung out with on Friday nights, but I didn’t see any of them here at the moment.
I approached the bar, waving at the bartender, Rainn, who was pouring a glass of wine at the other end of the counter. He grinned at me, raising a finger to let me know he’d be right over. I settled myself on a stool and exhaled, letting the stress of the week slide off my shoulders, my unexpected reunion with Phoebe, the loss of the house I wanted to buy, and a heavily pregnant dog in need of a foster home.
For the next few hours, I was going to drink my favorite cider, listen to some live music, and hopefully enjoy the company of my friends. Maybe I’d even meet a woman here tonight. Who knew?
“How’s it going?” Rainn asked as he set a glass of Shipley cider on the counter in front of me. For a while, he’d asked if I wanted my usual, and since I always did, he finally quit asking and just started bringing it. I was nothing if not a creature of habit.
“Not bad,” I said. “You?”
“No complaints. Hang on.” He patted the bar in front of me before making his way down to serve a group that had just come in.
I sipped my cider, savoring its tangy, refreshing flavor. Over the hum of conversation, I could hear a woman singing, accompanied by the tinkling notes of the piano. I stared into the amber depths of my cider while I enjoyed the soulful quality of the singer’s voice. Whoever this was must be new, because I didn’t recognize her voice or her style.
I picked up my glass and spun my stool toward the stage, only to find myself facing Phoebe. I inhaled, and my glass tipped dangerously in my hand. Of all the people I’d expected to see on that stage…
Phoebe’s hair was pulled back in a loose bun, but a few dark curls had escaped to spill down her back. She wore a slinky black dress that highlighted her curves and stood out in stark contrast against her pale skin. Her voice was low and smoky, hitting me somewhere in the vicinity of my solar plexus, a jolt that warmed my stomach and radiated outward, flushing my skin.
As I watched, Phoebe looked up, and our eyes met. I lifted my glass and took another sip of my cider, feigning indifference, because it was just unfair that she could still affect me like this after so many years. Phoebe dropped her gaze to the piano in front of her as her fingers danced across the keys.
I remembered sitting beside her on the bench at Margery’s piano, my arm wrapped around her as Phoebe sang. Her voice had been different then, lighter and sweeter, or maybe it just seemed that way, filtered through the blinds of my memory. Margery told me Phoebe had given up the piano—and singing—after she graduated from high school.
Maybe she was feeling nostalgic now that she was back in Vermont. Or maybe she was just trying to torture me with the allure of her voice. I gulped from my cider.
“Hi,” a female voice said.
I spun to find myself facing an unfamiliar blonde. “Hi.”
“I’m Rebecca. Are you from around here?”
“Taylor, and yes. You?”
“Just in town for the weekend,” Rebecca told me.
“Ah.” I sipped my cider. Rebecca was pretty, although not exactly my type with her trendy dress and long, red-painted nails. She looked like she’d never hiked a day in her life. But when I glanced to the left, I saw Phoebe watching me from the stage, and it gave me an absurd thrill to let her watch me flirt with someone else. “Where are you from, Rebecca?”
5
Phoebe
I lowered my gaze to the sheet music in front of me. For the last hour, Taylor had been deep in conversation—a very flirty conversation, if looks were any indication—with a blonde at the bar. Was she Taylor’s girlfriend? It was none of my business, of course. I didn’t have feelings for Taylor anymore. I’d gotten over her years ago, and my heart was still bruised from losing Sabrina. Still, I was curious.
As I sang my way through a Taylor Swift favorite, I found my attention drifting to the other Taylor, watching her talk to the blonde. An off-key note twanged from the piano, refocusing my attention on the music. My piano skills were rusty at best, despite a day spent practicing on my Grandma’s piano.
When the song ended, I heard a smattering of applause and even a few whistles from the bar’s patrons. I wasn’t sure whether they were just being polite, but at least they weren’t booing me. Tanner Reid, the manager of Vino and Veritas, had given me a trial run tonight before making me a more permanent part of the lineup…or as permanent as I could be, given that I was only in town for a month or so.
Apparently, they were short on musicians at the moment, so if tonight went well, I might have a recurring gig for as long as I was in Burlington. It could be just the distraction I needed while I was here. Sitting at this piano, singing some of my favorite songs, I felt something inside me come alive, the creative part of my soul that I’d buried deep beneath job and family obligations, number crunching, and a busy social calendar. The keys were smooth and solid beneath my fingers, familiar and comforting like an old friend.
I finished my set and stood, receiving another round of applause. The bar was a lot more crowded than it had been when I started playing, a fact I was glad I hadn’t noticed until now. I smiled and thanked the people who’d been listening to me play, before making my way to the bar to check in with Tanner.
“Nice job tonight,” he said. “You played well, and the crowd seemed to like you. I’ve got a couple of openings on the schedule over the next month or so that you could fill for us if you’re interested. I’ll email you with the details.”
“Thank you,” I told him. “I’d like that.”
I rested an elbow on the bar, trying to decide whether to stay for a drink before I headed home. The stool beside Taylor was empty now. The blonde had either left or gone to talk to someone else. And that made my decision for me, because there were a few things I needed to say. I walked over to stand beside the empty stool. “Do you mind?”
Taylor turned to look at me, her eyes widening slightly. She gestured to the stool. “Go ahead.”
I slid onto it and reached for a drink menu. I ordered a glass of chardonnay, then sat quietly as I waited for my drink to arrive. The bar around us buzzed with laughter and conversation, except for our little bubble of silence. I didn’t want it to be this way between us. This was my fault, but hopefully, I could fix it.
Once I had my wine in hand, I took a fortifying sip. “I want to apologize for the way I handled our conversation on Wednesday. I wasn’t expecting to see you, and I think I came off harsher than I intended.”
“You think?” Taylor lifted her drink, shoulders tense. She had on snug-fitting jeans and a black T-shirt that hugged her curves. She had more of those than she did in high school, a woman’s body, where before, she’d been a gangly teenager.
“You can still bring your dogs to hike on my grandma’s land, at least until we start renting it out,” I told her. “In fact, I hope you will. I’m sorry for being rude the other day.”
“Okay,” Taylor said, staring at her drink instead of at me. “Thank you.”
“I guess I didn’t know you and my grandma were so close.” It had been bothering me since that afternoon. In fact, it was one of the reasons I’d been short with her. It had caught me off guard to realize Taylor still hiked here, that
she’d been keeping up the property, that she’d even hoped to buy it.
“I’m surprised she never told you.” Taylor did look at me then. The lighting in the bar caught her hazel eyes, making them dance with a myriad of colors.
“I am too,” I admitted.
“She talked about you all the time.”
I smiled into my wine. “I was her only granddaughter, after all.”
“You didn’t visit very often,” Taylor said, and my smile fell flat.
“I came as often as I could, but my job kept me in Boston most of the time. After Grandma retired, she came down and stayed with my dad from Thanksgiving until Christmas every year, so I guess I saw her more in Massachusetts than here in Vermont.”
“I just wondered,” Taylor persisted, “why you’re here for a month now but never managed it while she was still alive?”
“Forgot how nosy you are,” I said, swirling my wine so that it caught the light.
Taylor laughed. “You got me. Some things never change.”
“Well, if you must know, I lost my job last week…and my girlfriend. So I decided to get out of town for a while.”
“Damn,” Taylor said. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. I’m going to go out on a limb and assume you don’t spend much time on social media.”
“Busted,” Taylor said. “Other than managing the accounts for the shelter, I don’t really pay attention to it. Why?”
“Because I figured you would have recognized me if you were,” I said.
“Recognized you from what?”
I pulled out my phone and opened the photo that had upended my life. In it, I stood in the middle of Lansdowne Street, hands raised and both middle fingers extended toward the man in front of me. Big block letters above my head said “ME,” while “THE PATRIARCHY” was written above the man’s head. I held my phone toward Taylor.
“Holy shit,” she said. “Miss Prim and Proper flipped off a guy in the middle of Boston?”
“Well, he called me a bitch for not being impressed when he hit on me, so he had it coming,” I told her.
“Asshole,” Taylor said.
“Anyway, shit happens, but someone snapped this picture and captioned it, and it went viral all over social media. They call me ‘girl against the patriarchy.’”
“Without your permission?” Taylor’s eyebrows rose, amusement fading from her expression.
“Exactly. I’m not sorry for flipping him off, but all of a sudden, I was a viral meme for something that should have been a private moment. And unfortunately, my employer decided I was a liability to the firm.”
“Oh shit. They fired you?”
I nodded, taking a large gulp of my wine.
“And your girlfriend? Did she break up with you because of the meme too?”
“You really are nosy,” I said as an uncomfortable warmth crept up my neck and hurt radiated through my chest. “Yes. She got frustrated with all the unwanted attention.”
“Phoebe, I’m sorry.” Taylor rested a hand on mine. Her fingertips were cold where they’d touched her glass, yet somehow, they still spread warmth through my veins.
“Thank you.”
“I could say something about running when things get tough, but I won’t.”
“I think you just did.” I tugged my hand free from Taylor’s. Damn, that hurt, and just when I was starting to think she and I could be friends again. “I was sixteen, Taylor, and so far in the closet, I didn’t even know where the door was. I’m sorry I ran, okay?”
“I wasn’t trying to push you out of the closet,” she said. “But we were best friends. We emailed a million times a day, and then you just cut me off, like you forgot I existed.”
“I didn’t forget.” My fingers clenched around the stem of my wineglass as unexpected tears pricked behind my eyes. “I never forgot.”
Taylor lifted her glass and drank. “Could have fooled me.”
6
Taylor
I loaded Blue and Minnie into the backseat of my SUV and set out for Margery’s cabin. Well, Phoebe’s cabin, at least for the time being. I was glad I’d get to hike here for a few more weeks, but that wasn’t the only reason I’d agreed to come back. If I bumped into Phoebe while I was here, I was going to look for any and all opportunities to show her that this cabin was a home, not a rental property.
Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe I could still change her mind. I loved this property in a way no renter ever could, and it wasn’t as if her family needed the rental income.
I made the ten-minute drive to Mountain Laurel Road, pulling into the driveway behind Phoebe’s purple Nissan. I swung my SUV to the side so I wasn’t blocking her in. In the backseat, Minnie barked excitedly, bouncing from one end of the seat to the other while Blue attempted to stay out of her way.
“Come on, you two.” I got out of the car and opened the back door for them. I clipped Blue’s leash to his collar while Minnie trotted across the driveway, nose against the ground. Then her head came up, and she bounded toward the backyard. Before I’d realized what was happening, I heard Phoebe’s startled exclamation. “Sorry,” I called as I rounded the back of the house. “I didn’t know you were outside.”
“Minnie seems to have a habit of surprising me.” Phoebe was crouched on the patio, rubbing Minnie behind her ears. She wore jean cutoffs and a pink-patterned tank top, and I really wished I wasn’t affected by the sight of so much of her exposed skin, but it took real effort to keep myself from checking out her cleavage or the creamy expanse of her legs.
“She likes you,” I said as Minnie flopped to the ground in front of Phoebe, begging for belly rubs.
“Well, I like her too.”
“Sorry for busting in on you like this. Maybe I should start parking down the street.” I’d always parked in the driveway, but it felt different now that Phoebe was living in the cabin. I felt almost like an intruder, and I didn’t like it.
“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind.” She stood, tugging at the hem of her shorts, which had ridden up, and again, I had to look away.
“Thanks. Well, we’ll get out of your hair.”
“Actually, do you mind if I tag along? I’ve been inside removing wallpaper all morning. I could use a little fresh air.”
I hesitated. I did want the chance to talk to Phoebe about the cabin, but these hikes were my quiet time, a chance to bond with my dogs and with nature, and I was already concerned that my physical reaction to Phoebe meant my feelings for her weren’t as dead as I’d hoped. “Sure, but you probably want to change your shoes.” I gestured to her flip-flops.
“Okay,” she said. “Give me just a minute to put on my sneakers.”
I nodded, walking over to the rosebushes while I waited. I leaned toward the nearest bloom, closing my eyes as I inhaled its sweet scent. I’d always loved roses, probably at least partly because of Margery. They reminded me of afternoons here, helping Margery tend her garden and playing with her dog Comet in the backyard.
Hopefully, the Shaws would hire someone to tend the roses for their renters. I planned to suggest it, if I wasn’t able to convince Phoebe to change her mind about renting the place out.
Minnie trotted over with a stick in her mouth, but she didn’t drop it at my feet. She held on to it, staring hopefully at the back door of the cabin.
“Traitor,” I told her, but Minnie was no dummy. She knew I would only throw the stick a few times, whereas Phoebe could potentially be coerced into humoring her for longer. Blue leaned in to sniff a rose, a boy after my own heart. He was a good dog, and once he’d come out of his shell, he’d make someone a wonderful pet. I had already seen him blossom in the week and a half he’d been with me.
The door opened, and Phoebe reappeared wearing aqua sneakers with pink laces. On cue, Minnie dropped the stick at her feet, bouncing in a circle as she barked at Phoebe.
“You’re very subtle,” Phoebe said with a laugh as she picked up the stick and gave it a toss.
Minni
e dashed across the yard, pinning the stick to the ground with one front paw before she grabbed it in her mouth and trotted back to Phoebe.
“We should get going, or she’ll have you standing here all afternoon, tossing that stick,” I said.
“She reminds me a little bit of Comet.” A wistful note crept into Phoebe’s voice. “He was the same way with sticks.”
“Yeah, he was.” I led the way over the stream and onto the trail at the far side of the yard. “Have you hiked on these trails at all yet?”
She shook her head. “Not since we were kids.”
“It’s mostly the same,” I told her. “I usually take the dogs to the field where—” I cut myself off as my brain caught up with my mouth. That field was where Phoebe and I had spent countless hours making out as teenagers. We would bring a blanket with us and hide from the world.
“Oh,” Phoebe said quietly.
“But sometimes I cut through to the public trail to the west. It just means I have to put Minnie on leash.”
“Let’s do that,” she suggested.
Yeah, I wasn’t eager to return to the scene of our make-out sessions either. “Sounds like a plan. Minnie!” I called, realizing I’d lost sight of my dog.
There was a crash in the bushes, and Minnie’s bushy black head appeared.
“What kind of dog is she?” Phoebe asked.
“She looks a lot like a Labradoodle, but she’s a shelter dog, so I don’t know for sure. She might just be a fuzzy mutt.”
“She’s definitely fuzzy,” Phoebe agreed.
“You should see her when she’s due for a trim,” I said.
Phoebe smiled in that slightly lopsided way I’d always found so endearing. “I bet.”
“Do you have any pets?” I asked.
She shook her head. “My condo in Boston doesn’t allow them.”
“Fair enough.” I watched as Minnie dropped her stick at Phoebe’s feet yet again. With a smile, Phoebe chucked it down the path ahead of us. “You’re good with them, though.”