by Rachel Lacey
She nodded. “Where do you want to go for dinner?”
“There’s a new farm-to-table restaurant not far from the bar, if you want to give that a try. I haven’t been yet, but I’ve heard good things.”
“Sounds perfect,” she agreed.
I shoved my hands into my pockets to keep from reaching for one of her curls or touching any part of her, really. Her dress was loose and flowy, and I knew it would look amazing if she spun, but I wasn’t taking her dancing tonight. Just dinner between friends. “You look really nice.”
She ducked her head, giving me a shy smile. “Thanks. You look good too.”
I was just wearing my usual Friday-night attire, black jeans and a T-shirt, but if I was being perfectly honest with myself, I’d spent a few more minutes in front of the mirror tonight than usual, wanting to look nice for Phoebe.
“Be a good girl until Holly gets here, okay?” Phoebe said, crouching to press a kiss against Violet’s forehead. The dog’s tail wagged against her bedding.
“She’ll be fine,” I assured her.
“I’m really excited for tonight,” Phoebe said. “I’m used to going out to dinner with friends whenever I want, you know? I’m ready to get out of this house.”
“Ready to go home?” I asked, pretending I didn’t feel a little pang at the thought.
“Actually, no,” she said. “I miss everyone so much, but things were such a mess when I left, and I don’t want to deal with it yet. But I am excited for a night out in Burlington.”
“I am too,” I told her. “My life tends to revolve around the shelter, working with the animals, and my friends in the rescue community, but we don’t go out for dinner or drinks very often.”
“What about your friends at V and V?” Phoebe asked.
“I mostly just see them when I’m there on Fridays.”
“Well, you should change that, then,” Phoebe said as she grabbed her purse and led the way out the front door. “You should go out more often.”
“I’ll drive,” I offered.
“Thanks.” She walked toward the passenger door of my SUV.
“You’re right. I do need to make more time for my social life, and I should try harder to date too. I guess I’m just a homebody at heart.”
“You could try online dating,” Phoebe suggested as she climbed into my SUV.
I settled in the driver’s seat, doing my best not to look at her bare legs, smooth and tanned and just begging for me to reach over and touch. “I guess, but I really prefer to make a connection with someone in person.”
“But how often does that actually happen?” Phoebe asked. “Online dating opens you up to a whole new world of available women, trust me. I’ve met most of my girlfriends that way.”
“Maybe.” I started the car and backed onto Mountain Laurel Road, headed toward downtown Burlington. “I’m sure the dating pool is wider in Boston.”
“Well, of course,” she said. “But there are plenty of queer women here in Vermont. Just look at the two of us.”
“Right.” But I didn’t want to look at the two of us, because I already liked what I saw a little too much.
“Hey, I talked to my dad yesterday,” she said, darting a glance at me.
“Yeah?”
“I pleaded your case for buying the house.”
“You did?” I hadn’t really expected her to follow through on that. Actually, I’d gotten the feeling that Phoebe didn’t want to sell the cabin either. She seemed pretty fond of the place.
“I did,” she confirmed. “But I have to warn you, he wasn’t very receptive. He also wasn’t thrilled about me having puppies in the house. But he did say he’d think about it.”
“Well, that’s something,” I said, gripping the steering wheel a little bit tighter. “I really appreciate it, Phoebe.” I’d been trying to quell my dreams about moving into Margery’s cabin since it had seemed like a lost cause, but now…
“The least I could do,” she said quietly.
“You’ll miss it too, won’t you?” I asked.
“I will,” she said. “I love that house, but as you pointed out, I hardly ever make it up here to visit. You would make it a home, not a vacation house. Anyway, we’ll see what my dad decides. Ultimately, it’s his choice, not mine.”
“Right,” I said. “Fingers crossed.” A small round shape in the road ahead caught my attention, and I tapped the brakes, pulling to the side of the road.
“What’re you doing?” Phoebe asked, looking around.
“There’s a turtle in the road,” I told her. “I’m just going to give him a hand.”
I climbed out of the car, looking both ways before I approached the turtle. It was a small painted turtle, one of the more common species around here, with a dark shell and the distinctive red and yellow marks on its neck that gave it its name. I lifted it carefully, gripping it about halfway down the shell so it couldn’t try to bite me, but it immediately retracted inside its shell until I could just make out its little eyes staring warily at me.
“No worries, little dude,” I said as I carried it to the far side of the road and set it down in the grass. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”
I went back to the car, reaching into the backseat for one of the wipes I kept there to wash my hands. I worked with a lot of animals, and they tended to get messy, so I’d learned to be prepared.
“That was the most Taylor thing I’ve seen you do since I’ve been back, I think,” Phoebe said, grinning at me.
I shrugged as I shifted the car into Drive and pulled back onto the road. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for animals in need.”
“That you are. Why did you take it over there by the woods instead of moving it toward that pond?” She gestured to the pond outside her window.
“You should always move them in the direction they were headed. He probably just came from the pond, so if I’d put him back on that side of the road, he’d have just crossed again.”
“Ah,” Phoebe said. “Good to know.”
“I think this is their mating season, so he’s probably off looking for a girl,” I told her with a cheeky grin. “Or maybe it’s a female looking for a place to lay her eggs.”
“Well, at least the turtle’s getting some,” Phoebe said.
I snorted with laughter. “’Tis the season for wildlife to get frisky.”
We shared easy conversation during the forty-minute drive into downtown Burlington. I parked in one of the public lots, and we walked to the restaurant, enjoying the cool evening breeze. To me, it felt crowded here. The street was lined with restaurants and shops, people bustling toward the pedestrian mall on Church Street. I could only take Burlington in small doses. Friday nights were plenty for me.
But Phoebe had a happy gleam in her eyes as she walked beside me, reminding me that she lived in the city. She liked the hustle and bustle of people, the noise, the crowds.
“I’m so happy to be out tonight,” she said, and her fingers brushed mine as if she’d started to take my hand and then thought better of it.
“I’m glad,” I told her. “And your energy is infectious.”
She beamed at me. “It’s been weeks since I’ve been out to dinner. I came to Vermont to hide out at my grandma’s house, but I’m not really much of a recluse, I guess.”
“No,” I said. “You’re a social butterfly. Always have been, always will be.”
“You know what? You and I have never gone out to dinner together before,” she said. “That’s kind of hard to believe.”
“We’d never shared a drink together until this month either,” I reminded her. She’d been my best friend and my first love, but we’d been kids at the time. We’d never known each other as adults, and despite the challenge to my libido, I was glad we were getting the chance now. I stopped in front of the restaurant. “Here we are.”
“Do you want to sit outside?” Phoebe asked, eyeing the outdoor patio, which was contained behind a wooden fence and decorated with a variety
of hanging plants and strings of white lights. “It’s so pretty.”
“It sounds perfect,” I told her. Fresh air was my natural element, after all.
The hostess led us to a small table in the back corner of the patio. We didn’t have a good view of Church Street from here, but it was quiet, maybe even romantic…not that we were going for romantic tonight. A pink paper lantern hung above our table, and ivy ran down the brick wall beside it.
“I love it already,” Phoebe said as she sank into the chair opposite me.
I was trying hard not to notice the way the breeze played through her hair as she reached for her menu. “Hope the food’s as good as the ambience.”
“I do too,” she said.
I turned my attention to my own menu, perusing my options. The mushroom ravioli looked good, but it also sounded heavier than I was in the mood for tonight. Our waiter approached the table and introduced himself. Phoebe and I each ordered a beer and a plate of goat cheese with fruit and crackers as an appetizer to share.
“Oh my God,” she said with a happy sigh as she continued to peruse the menu. “All this stuff is local? And it sounds so good. How have you not been here before?”
I shrugged. “I guess I don’t go out to dinner that often.”
“Well, I might drag you into town for a few more dinners before I leave, then,” Phoebe said. “Because I love exploring new places, and you’re basically the only person I know here.”
“I’d like that,” I said.
The waiter returned with our beer and cheese plate. Phoebe ordered a pork chop with various spring vegetables, and I got a seared steak salad. Once he’d gone, she gave me a thoughtful look.
“I have to say, I’m surprised you aren’t a vegetarian, or a vegan even, being such an animal lover.”
“I’m too pragmatic, I guess,” I told her. “I don’t have a problem with humanely sourced meat, but I do try to make sure everything I eat is locally and humanely raised.”
“I respect that,” she said. “I buy mostly organic myself, although local isn’t as practical in Boston as it is here.”
“No judgment from me. We all do what we can.”
“Okay, I’m going in,” she said, eyeing the cheese plate. She picked up a cracker, spread some goat cheese and raspberry sauce on it, and popped it in her mouth. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she gave an appreciative moan. “Mm, Taylor, you have to try this,” she said once she’d swallowed.
I swallowed too, my throat gone dry as I watched her eat. I picked up my beer and took a hearty drink before fixing a cracker for myself. Flavor exploded across my tongue, the tangy cheese perfectly balanced by the sweetness of the fruit. “You’re not wrong. This is amazing.”
“If all the restaurants in Burlington are as good as this one, we’re going to have go out to dinner a bunch of times,” she said, loading up another cracker.
That sounded a lot like we were dating, but I supposed friends could go to dinner too. I wasn’t going to press her on it, not while we were having such a nice evening together. “Oh yeah, who’s going to watch your puppies?”
She looked up. “They’ll get more self-sufficient, right?”
“They will for a little while, but then they take a step backward when they get big enough to eat and poop on their own.”
Phoebe’s nose wrinkled. “Let’s not talk about poop at dinner.”
I laughed. “Fair.”
She took a drink of her beer and leaned back in her chair, a contented look on her face. “I really needed this night. And it doesn’t seem like you Vermonters pay attention to online memes. No one’s said anything to me since I got here.”
“Did people actually stop you in the street?” I asked. “I mean, I don’t think I’d recognize a person from a meme if I saw them in real life.”
“Mostly people who knew me, I guess,” she said. “Once word spread that it was me in the meme, it felt like everyone was talking about it. And if you know Boston, it’s easy to tell where that photo was taken.”
“Ah.”
“I mean, to be fair, most people wanted to give me a fist bump and congratulate me on my badassery, but that meme imploded my life, so I didn’t really feel like celebrating.”
“Don’t blame you.”
“Someday, I’ll appreciate it…maybe.”
I grinned at her. “There are worse things to be known as than ‘girl against the patriarchy,’ that’s for damn sure.”
She lifted her beer and tapped it against mine. “I’ll drink to that.”
19
Phoebe
I was in a happy haze by the time we left the restaurant, thanks in part to the two beers I’d had with dinner. The food had been amazing, and I was so happy to be back on good terms with Taylor. Right now, I was wondering how I’d gone through thirteen years of my life without her in it. How had I been such a coward that I’d let that happen?
“I have an hour before I need to start warming up for my set at V and V,” I told her. “Want to walk along the waterfront?”
“I’d love that. It’s about a ten-minute walk from here, though. Are your shoes comfortable?”
I nodded. “They’re very comfortable.”
Taylor gave my sandals a skeptical look, but they only had a one-inch heel, and they were truly some of the most comfortable shoes I owned. “Let’s go, then.”
We walked down Main Street toward Waterfront Park. It was a welcome splash of green among all the bricks and cement, with tree-lined walking paths and a boardwalk, which was where Taylor led me. Before us, Lake Champlain glistened against the sunset, as wide and vast as the ocean, from this vantage point, at least. Gentle waves slapped the shore, and a vee of geese glided by overhead.
“Gorgeous,” I proclaimed.
“Doesn’t compare to Boston, I bet,” Taylor said.
“We do have some nice harbor views, but this has a different charm.” I rested my arms on the wooden railing, gazing out over the water. “It doesn’t look the same as the ocean. The water’s greener, and it smells different, although my mind boggles at a lake this big.”
“It’s nice. I guess I sometimes forget I live so close to one of the Great Lakes. My life tends to revolve around the forest instead.”
“Maybe you should make time for the lake too. Can you take a boat out on it?” I asked, glancing toward the marina, where neat rows of boats were moored.
“I’m sure you can, but I have no idea how.”
“Maybe we should find out while I’m here.”
“Maybe,” Taylor said. She was staring out at the water, her expression distant.
I couldn’t quite read her vibe right now. We’d had such a nice dinner, friendly and relaxed, but now she seemed to be pulling back. I didn’t think it was anything I’d said. Maybe she just felt like she needed some boundaries with me, lest we get carried away like we had the night the puppies were born.
I wasn’t the only one who still felt the tug of attraction between us. I’d seen her check out my dress earlier tonight and the way her gaze occasionally lingered on my breasts. We were both feeling it, but surely people could be friends with someone they were attracted to. It must happen all the time. And if things got out of hand, I could always head back to Boston early.
Or stay in Vermont a bit longer. I’d gotten a call that morning from a woman in town, asking for my financial advice after she’d seen my post in the local Facebook group. If I got enough of those calls, I might be able to stay until the puppies were weaned. In fact, as I stood at this windswept railing beside Taylor, I hoped I got that chance.
“We should head back soon, so you’re not late for your set,” she said, glancing at me.
“Yep.” I stared at her, mesmerized by the way the fading sun played through the russet layers of her hair and gleamed in her eyes. The pull between us was almost magnetic. I leaned toward her before I’d even realized what I was doing.
Her gaze sharpened, and she took a step back, returning the necessary space
between us to keep me from being a big fraud. Just friends. Right. I could do this. We could do this.
She turned away from the railing, leading the way down the boardwalk toward the path where we’d entered the park. My heels tapped rhythmically against the wooden boards as I walked, a sharper sound than the thump of her boots. I liked the way they went together, like music.
I’d been thinking about music a lot since I got to Vermont, remembering the way it used to call to me. I liked the evenness of it, the rhythmic beats, counting bars and verses. It made sense in the math side of my brain. And right now, our shoes were making a perfect melody together.
As we made our way through the marketplace, crowded with locals and tourists enjoying their Friday evening, nerves began to tingle in my belly. I had enjoyed playing in the bar earlier this month, and I knew I would again tonight, but I wasn’t used to performing in public. It still made my palms sweat, even though I was looking forward to it.
“Hey, before we go in, do you mind if we find a quiet place to sit for a minute so I can do some vocal warm-ups?” I asked.
Taylor smiled at me. “Sure. I know a place.”
She led me down a little alley behind the bar where it was much quieter, then leaned back, propping one of her feet against the wall as she settled in to watch me warm up. Speaking of warming up, my cheeks were pretty hot beneath her appraising gaze. I closed my eyes and ran through a few scales to prepare my voice. My throat was dry, though. I’d need to ask for a glass of water at the bar before I sang.
“Okay,” I said when I’d finished, opening my eyes. “I’m ready.”
“You have a really pretty voice,” she said. “Do you still think about singing professionally?”
I shook my head. “Thank you, but I don’t want anything more than what I’m doing here at V and V. Nothing about fame appeals to me, and I don’t think my voice is that good, anyway. It’s just something I enjoy as a hobby.”
“Fair enough,” she said.