by Gerri Hill
“Well, I guess we should leave you to it,” Cassidy said, motioning to the mound of dirt. “I promised Ashly an afternoon swim.”
Laura forced a smile. “You two have fun. I’ll clean up out here before I leave.”
Cassidy turned back around as if to say something, then—after a quick smile—left her in peace. Laura tried not to be nosy, but she was. The garage door opened and Cassidy drove inside. The trunk popped open and two large bags were retrieved. Was the bleached-blond model planning to stay for a week or what? Then the garage door closed, slowly enough for her to see the blonde laugh flirtingly, then lean closer to Cassidy, presumably to kiss her. Thankfully, the door closed before she had to witness that.
“God, where does she find these women?” She shook her head. She’d bet a hundred bucks this one was as straight as an arrow. Disgusting.
* * *
Cassidy sat at the edge of the pool, dangling her feet in. Ashly was on a float. Ashly was young and strikingly gorgeous. Ashly was naked. Ashly bored her to tears.
She lifted her head, flicking her gaze to the house next door. She’d heard Laura start the truck up not more than twenty minutes after they’d gotten there. She’d given Ashley a tour of the house, listening to her “oohs and ahhs” indifferently. She absolutely “loved” Cassidy’s bedroom. The disappointment was evident on her face when Cassidy took her two bags and deposited them in one of the downstairs guestrooms instead.
Ashly was a friend of a friend. She’d gone out with her once, a couple of months ago. Then this week, Macie had invited Cassidy to dinner at their house and Ashly was there. As was her habit, Cassidy invited all three of them to stay the weekend with her. Macie and Karon couldn’t come up until Saturday. Ashly, on the other hand, said she was free all day Friday and would love to ride up with her.
And here she was, entertaining a woman who apparently had preconceived notions of how the weekend would unfold. Granted, their first date had ended with a rather heated kiss, one that Ashly had initiated and one that Cassidy hadn’t pulled away from. However, there was nothing about Ashly—other than her looks—that attracted Cassidy so there had been no second date. Dinner the other night had been fun, but Cassidy had given no indication to Ashly that she thought of her as anything other than a friend.
“So what was your neighbor doing over here?”
Cassidy looked over at her, for the first time noting her all-over tan, the result of too much time spent in a tanning bed. “She’s putting in some flowerbeds for me. Takes care of the yard.”
“Why?”
“I asked her to.”
“Do you pay her?”
“Of course.”
“She must be hard up for money. That looked like a filthy job.”
Cassidy felt the need to defend Laura, then realized she didn’t know enough about her to contradict Ashly. Was Laura hard up for money? She didn’t come across that way at all, but you never know. She looked over at the two new planters, smiling as the different colors burst from the top.
“I think she enjoys it,” Cassidy said. “The yard crew I had wasn’t working out so…I asked her.”
“She seemed kinda old to be doing stuff like that.”
“Old?”
“She’s probably close to forty. Of course, the way she was dressed…” she said, her voice trailing off as if it was a bad thing.
What was wrong with the way she was dressed? Laura had had on her usual cutoff jeans and baseball cap. Today she’d been in sports sandals instead of the grass-stained sneakers she’d had on the other times. She frowned. And old?
“How old do you think I am?” she asked Ashly.
Ashly smiled at her seductively. “I’m going to guess thirty-five or six,” she said. “But that’s no problem. I like older women.”
Cassidy sighed wearily. “And how old are you again?”
“Twenty-nine.” She laughed. “I’m dreading turning thirty.”
Cassidy fell into the pool, fighting the urge to swim over to Ashly and tip her off her float. But that would be childish. She was too old to be childish, so she played along.
“Thirty was tough. I recommend a big party with lots of alcohol.”
“You’re the second person to tell me that.” She rolled her head in Cassidy’s direction. “Why am I the only one naked?”
“I actually need to go inside. I’m grilling chicken tonight—green jerk. I need to get it in the sauce. It has to marinate for a few hours.”
“What’s green jerk?”
“It’s Jamaican. It’s a spicy, sweet green sauce that goes over drumsticks. I made the sauce last night.”
“I’m not much for real spicy.”
Cassidy bit her lip. “It’s not all that spicy. It’s just got a unique hot and sweet mix.”
“I suppose it’ll be okay.”
Cassidy put her hands on the side of the pool and lifted herself out. “Great. Be right back.” She paused, remembering her manners. “You want another wine cooler? Or perhaps a margarita? I could mix up a batch.”
Ashly’s eyes lit up. “I love margaritas.”
“Okay. I’ll bring one right out.”
She gave a relieved sigh as she headed back inside. The outdoor kitchen had all the makings for margaritas, but she escaped into the coolness—and quiet—of the house to make them instead.
* * *
Laura refused—refused!—to look through the windows of her bedroom. Not only because these windows didn’t offer much of a view of the pool, but because she didn’t want to be that nosy, creepy neighbor who spied. Instead, she gathered clean clothes and went across the hall to the bathroom. She would take a long, leisurely shower. She wouldn’t give another thought to Cassidy Anderson and the super-thin, super-blond model who was lounging naked in her pool.
“So I peeked,” she murmured as she closed the bathroom door.
Just a little. Just enough to make her roll her eyes and turn away. Seriously, what’s with women stripping naked in Cassidy’s pool? She, herself, was guilty of that too.
But at least I was alone.
Her leisurely shower took twenty minutes, which was quite lengthy for her. After dressing and donning flip-flops, she found her mother in her usual spot—the recliner.
“Don’t you get tired of watching TV?”
“What else should I do, Laura Sue? You barely let me in the kitchen anymore.”
“It’s going to be a nice evening. How about we eat out on the patio?”
“What do you have planned?”
“Steaks—ribeye. Baked potato. A salad.”
“Sounds wonderful. Frankie used to make us a steak once a week.”
“You should have told me. I just yesterday found the stash of steaks in the freezer.”
Her mother struggled to her feet and Laura went over to help her. “Thank you. I get stiff when I sit for too long.”
“We need to start walking in the mornings before it gets too hot.” Her mother was about to protest and Laura held up a hand. “Just around the block. You can take your cane and hold on to me with your other hand.”
“Oh, Laura, I don’t know. Planting flowers with you the other week about did me in.”
“But it was fun to get out and do something, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it was. But you shouldn’t worry about me. I enjoy my TV.” She gripped her walker with both hands and took a couple of shuffling steps. “I noticed that you haven’t been holed up in your writing room this week.”
“I’m taking your advice,” she said. “No writing. Taking a break.”
“Having access to a pool must have helped spur you,” her mother said with a smile.
“Yes. And speaking of that, I thought maybe you might want to give it a try.”
“The pool? You know I can’t swim, Laura Sue.”
“Just get in the shallow end, float around, move your legs. I’ve been doing some research. Water exercises are the best thing for you. I’m sure Cassidy wouldn’t mind.”
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“Oh…I don’t know. I’ve never been very comfortable around water.”
“Let’s try it next week,” Laura pushed. “I’ll hold on to you the whole time. What do you say?”
“What would I wear?”
“I have a swimsuit you can use. You can put shorts on over it if that would make you feel more comfortable.”
“I don’t know, Laura Sue. We’ll see. Help me to my room. I’ll get cleaned up before dinner.”
Chapter Nineteen
“I hear voices,” her mother whispered.
“Yes. Cassidy has company,” she said as she settled back in her patio chair. “And there’s no need to whisper. They’re not.”
“I like this cocktail. Frankie was partial to beer.” Her mother took a sip. “A little strong for me, though.”
“I barely put a splash of bourbon in it.”
Her mother took another sip. “It is a nice evening, isn’t it? I hear frogs calling, but there was no mention of rain.”
“I think they’re in the woods behind Cassidy’s house.”
She had yet to put the steaks on—the potatoes weren’t quite ready. But there was a delicious, enticing smell coming from Cassidy’s outdoor kitchen. She was grilling out too, it seemed.
And playing in the pool, she added. She’d heard splashing…and laughing. Most of the laughter appeared to be coming from the model. She wondered what Cassidy was doing that was so amusing. She also wondered what it was that she was grilling. It made her mouth water.
“Time for the steaks,” she announced. She put her drink on the small table between their two chairs and turned the grill up a bit, wanting to sear the steaks before turning the temp a little lower.
“Do you still sit out here before you go up to bed?”
“Some nights,” she said. Actually, most nights. Especially this week since she’d been avoiding her laptop. A splash in the pool made her lift her head up.
“Oh, they’re swimming,” her mother whispered.
“Probably naked,” she murmured.
“Are you still spying over there, Laura Sue?”
“Of course not. I told you, I gave that up.” She turned the temp down on the grill and closed the lid. “How do you like your steak?”
“Just a little pink, nothing more. In fact, no pink would be better.”
Laura wrinkled up her nose. “That’s overdone.”
“I don’t care. I refuse to have red juice on my plate.” She smiled smugly. “Frankie made them perfectly.”
“Wait until you taste my seasoning. You’ll forget all about Frankie’s steaks then.”
“I will admit, he was mainly just salt and pepper. What did you use?”
“It’s a Tuscan blend for the seasonings. I mix a dash of balsamic vinegar with olive oil to moisten the steak, then season it. And if we had a rosemary bush, I’d put a couple of sprigs of that on it.” She pointed to the corner of the flowerbed. “In fact, I think I could squeeze a bush in here. What do you think?”
“Whatever you want,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I doubt I’ll ever be well enough to take my yard back.”
“Next week…walking and swimming. You’ve just got to get your strength back. And your balance.”
“The doctor said if I fell again and injured my back, it could paralyze me.”
“Mom, I think he meant that only at first, when you left the hospital. Your injuries are long healed.”
“They don’t feel like they’re healed.”
“Look, not to blame Frankie, but he waited on you hand and foot, Mom. He never gave you a chance to get back to normal.”
“The doctor said I’d never walk without a limp.”
“Yeah…a limp. Not a walker or a wheelchair.”
“I went to physical therapy. It didn’t help.”
Laura held up her hand. “Let’s don’t argue. I can imagine you at physical therapy.”
“Are you saying I didn’t try?”
“I’m saying, you got back home from physical therapy and Frankie treated you like an invalid…thus you stayed one.” She held her hand up again. “Truce. It’s too nice an evening to argue.”
Her mother nodded. “The patio table looks nice.”
Laura followed her gaze. The little round table with the red cloth was already set for dinner. A square candle sat in the middle, the light bouncing around as the gentle breeze moved the wick back and forth. Yes…nice. Romantic, almost.
She blew out her breath before taking a sip of her drink. Not romantic, no. Romantic was probably next door…with the outdoor kitchen, the pool…Cassidy…and the naked model.
She let out her breath again with an audible sigh, suddenly feeling a twinge of loneliness.
Where did that come from?
* * *
Cassidy moved the chicken to a cooler side of the grill and closed the lid. There was a divine aroma of steak coming from next door and she was quite jealous. It didn’t surprise her, however, that Laura would like steak.
“Come on back in,” Ashly beckoned from the pool. “The water is simply wonderful.”
Ashly was in a bikini now, but it barely covered more than when she was naked. Cassidy was in her most conservative one-piece, ignoring Ashley’s attempts at getting her to toss the suit. Actually, she was ready to toss the suit—for clothes. The air was a little cooler this evening and now that she was out of the water, she felt the chill.
“I need to get the chicken off pretty soon. I think I’ll head in for a change. Will you be okay out here alone?”
“Oh, sure. I wouldn’t mind another margarita though.”
“Of course. There’s still some left in the pitcher.” The pitcher that Ashly had been drinking from since the afternoon. She was going to have a wallop of a headache in the morning, no doubt.
Before going inside, she turned the grill down to its lowest setting. She didn’t want to overcook the chicken. The rice was already done—spicy rice with peas—and a couple ears of corn on the cob were grilling next to the chicken.
She took a quick shower before slipping into dry clothes and choosing sandals instead of flip-flops. The table at the edge of the outdoor kitchen was already set for dinner. Instead of lighting the candle, she moved it back into the cabinet. No sense in having Ashly think she was trying to seduce her. Quite the opposite.
The wine she’d chosen for their meal was a sweeter zinfandel to offset the spiciness of the jerk sauce. The smell permeating from the grill told her that Ashly was not going to enjoy the chicken unless she scraped off all of the sauce…which was blasphemy, of course. The jerk sauce was what it was—green and spicy. And delicious.
“Everything is just about ready. Do you want to change before eating?”
Ashly walked up the steps of the pool and grabbed one of the large towels to wrap around herself. She stumbled slightly and Cassidy rushed over to help.
“That margarita just hit me, I think,” Ashly said with a laugh.
“Yeah, a pitcher will do that,” she murmured. “So? Change first or eat?”
“I’m starving. If you don’t mind me being in a bikini, we can eat first.” She spotted the wine on the table. “I think I better go with water, though.”
“Have a seat,” she said as she guided Ashly into a chair. “I’ll serve you.”
As expected, Ashly took one bite of the chicken—“Oh my God…my mouth’s on fire!”—and gulped down most of her water. She then removed as much sauce as she could before taking a second bite.
Cassidy sipped from her wine before sampling the corn. Grilled to perfection, it exploded in her mouth with juicy flavor. The chicken was moist and tender—and spicy. The corn was perfect. The rice fluffy. The wine sweet. She picked up her glass again, watching as Ashly daintily held the corn with her thumb and index fingers, all the others were pointed appropriately skyward.
She sighed. How could she possibly be sitting here, out by the pool, having dinner with a beautiful young woman—in a bikini, no less—
and feel as lonely as she was? She suspected, had she been alone, she would feel less so.
She heard quiet laughter come from across the fence and she smiled, recognizing Laura’s voice. So they cooked steaks and ate outside too. She looked at Ashly, who—instead of picking up the drumstick—was trying to cut the meat from the bone. Ashly looked up and smiled.
“It’s very good.”
“Thanks.” She picked up her own chicken with her hands. “Much easier to eat this way.”
“Oh, I always use a knife. I can still hear my mother. ‘It’s not ladylike to use your hands.’”
Cassidy sighed yet once again and reached for her wine. By the looks of it, she would have lots of leftovers. Dinner for next week, she reasoned.
Chapter Twenty
Laura sat down with a contented sigh and took a small sip of her hot coffee. A male cardinal was singing from the tree branch above the feeders. Soon, a female joined him and she watched as they flitted between the branches. Their patio faced west so there was never a view of the sunrise. Of course, there was never a view of a true sunset either. There were too many trees for that. Which reminded her that she still hadn’t explored Cassidy’s woods. She would make it a point to go out there one day next week and see if she could find the leaning tree. She wouldn’t mind taking in a sunset from there. If she could still climb the tree. She wasn’t a teenager anymore, she reminded herself.
“Hey…you out there?”
Laura smiled at the sound of Cassidy’s voice. “Yes.”
“Can I come over?”
“Sure.”
She automatically ran a hand over her hair, wondering how bad it looked this morning. Again, she shouldn’t care. Bedhead or not, this was her time. If Cassidy chose to come over, she would have to take her as she was.
Cassidy came walking through the grass in flip-flops and even from here, she could see the steam coming from her coffee cup. She matched Cassidy’s smile and remembered her manners this time, motioning to the chair beside her.
“Thanks. Beautiful morning, isn’t it?”
“It is. You’re up early.”
“So are you.”
“I’m always up early.”