by Erin Dutton
She’d found out one night when Jacqueline had responded to her text by calling her cell phone. Jacqueline had sounded exhausted and slurred her words. She probably should have demurred when Jacqueline asked her to come over, but she’d never been able to refuse Jacqueline when she needed something badly enough to ask for it. Jacqueline was almost a full bottle of wine ahead of her when she arrived at the apartment. She made a cursory attempt to catch up but still had most of her faculties about her when Jacqueline, sappy and sentimental, moved into her arms. Casey struggled to keep the embrace friendly and comforting. But then Jacqueline had kissed Casey’s neck, and she’d been lost. When Jacqueline started taking Casey’s clothes off, she’d tried to be honorable, given that Jacqueline seemed to be walking that line between just drunk enough and just sober enough. Apparently, Jacqueline remembered how to touch her in order to short-circuit her brain, and she’d given herself over to that sensation, perhaps too easily.
As she unlocked her front door, she closed off those dangerous memories and forced her thoughts back to Teddy. She’d been getting more concerned about him but hadn’t decided how to proceed. She settled on the couch and picked up her cell phone, then set it aside, delaying her next move.
If she took them separately, she could discount his moments of confusion in the same way he did, the rigors of aging. And maybe that’s all they were. She wasn’t a doctor. But when they were coupled with his newfound clumsiness, she couldn’t disregard them altogether. Just this evening, he’d stumbled as he made his way into the living room. She’d been close enough to grab his elbow and halt his fall. He’d immediately blamed Jacqueline for moving the lamp table next to the couch. But the table had been in the same place for as long as Casey could recall, and she couldn’t see any indentations in the carpet to indicate it had been moved.
Any time she tried to have a serious discussion with him, he dismissed her. The one time she’d pushed even further, he’d retreated to his workshop in the garage. She’d backed off and tried never to chase him out there again, mostly because she didn’t like the idea of him messing around with power tools just to spite her. Her next step was to call in backup.
She didn’t want to distract Sean from his studies, so she’d have to contact Jacqueline. They’d gotten pretty good at co-parenting. But for some reason, Teddy was a sore spot between them. Jacqueline seemed to resent her continued involvement in Teddy’s life, appearing to think that when Sean got old enough to maintain his own relationship with his grandfather, Casey should have simply cut off contact with Teddy. But Casey had stopped letting Jacqueline’s opinions steer her life long ago.
Decision made, she picked up her phone and scrolled through her contacts until she found Jacqueline’s name, then pressed send before she could change her mind. Jacqueline answered after three rings.
“Hey, it’s Casey.”
Jacqueline’s quiet laugh vibrated through the phone. “Yeah, I know. I still have your number in my phone.”
“Right. Am I calling too late?”
“No. It’s fine.”
Judging by her curtness, Casey didn’t fully believe her. But calling her on it would only lead them off the track of her intended conversation. Jacqueline wouldn’t want to admit that Casey could still read her tone of voice.
“I saw your dad this evening and he seemed a little off. Has he been feeling okay?”
“As far as I know. He hasn’t complained about anything. He seemed all right when I was there Monday.”
“He said he was fine and I didn’t push. I just—he seemed a little fuzzy—confused, maybe. He’s more unsteady on his feet lately. And I noticed his hands seem stiffer than usual.”
“He’s got arthritis.” Jacqueline sounded irritated. “He’ll tell you himself that he’s no spring chicken. But I will say, he doesn’t like being questioned about how he’s feeling.”
“Yeah, I know.” Now she wished she hadn’t called. Jacqueline clearly thought she was being silly. “I’m sorry I bothered you.”
“Casey.” Jacqueline’s tone indicated she thought Casey was trying to pick a fight. She should have known she wouldn’t get anywhere with this call. But before she could act on her urge to hang up the phone, Jacqueline sighed. “I’m sorry. Thank you for calling. Really. I’ll try to talk to him this weekend.”
“Thank you. Let me know if I can do anything to help.” Casey grasped for a civil topic to leave the conversation with. “Sean said you’re in Atlanta.”
“Yep. Until Friday.”
“You sound tired.” They’d spent a lot of time on the phone together over the years. Casey used to be able to tell what kind of day Jacqueline had had within seconds.
“Then I can imagine how it sounds when I say I’ll be in Memphis most of next week.”
“It’s good to know some things never change.” Casey chuckled.
“I like to think the company would fall apart without me.”
“I’m sure it would. I won’t keep you. Good night.”
*
“Good night.” Jacqueline ended the call and stared at her cell. She’d hoped she’d been imagining the decline in her father’s health, but clearly she wasn’t the only one noticing.
“Is there a problem?” At the sound of the soft voice behind her, she turned away from the window. Marti sat up in bed. Though there was no need for modesty between them, Marti held the sheet against her chest with one hand. Her otherwise ivory skin still held a flush from her orgasm. Jacqueline had stirred from her own postcoital nap when she heard the ringtone she’d assigned to Casey’s number.
“Sorry if I woke you.” She held up the phone. “That was about my dad.”
“You got out of bed with me to talk to your father?”
“Worse.” Jacqueline smiled. She strode naked back toward the bed, enjoying the way Marti’s eyes followed her. “I got out of bed to talk to my ex about my dad.”
“Wow. I’ll try not to be offended.”
“You shouldn’t be.” Jacqueline picked up a robe from a nearby chair and wrapped it around herself. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand and resisted the urge to slide back between the sheets. She usually returned to her hotel room, citing her need for a good night’s sleep before another busy day. But she didn’t really feel like dressing just to head across town and fall into a different bed.
Marti carefully picked her fingers through her knotted hair, wincing as they stuck and tugged. “I don’t know why you insist on tangling your hands in my hair.”
Jacqueline laughed. The first time she’d seen Marti striding down the aisle of a plane, every long auburn tress had been perfectly under control—smooth, coiled, and pinned against her head. The first time they’d been together, Marti had released her hair and let it fall to her shoulders. Jacqueline harbored a secret thrill every time she watched Marti writhing beneath her, so consumed by pleasure she didn’t care that her hair wrapped itself into a tousled mess.
“Let me help you with that.” She sank her fingers into the hair at the base of Marti’s skull and pulled her close.
“You’re not really going to help, are you?” Marti asked between kisses.
“That depends on your definition of help,” Jacqueline murmured as she let her robe fall to the floor and climbed back into bed.
*
“What a week, huh?” Casey opened a pizza box and slid a slice each onto two plates. Her schedule had been nonstop all week, and she’d lacked the energy to dress for the restaurant where they’d had reservations. “Thanks for settling for pizza.”
“Please, you got pepperoni and black olives. I can’t be mad when you ordered my favorite.” Nina settled on one end of the couch and accepted a plate from Casey. She hadn’t argued when Casey had texted to say she didn’t feel like going out. Instead, she’d arrived after work and asked Casey for some more-comfortable clothes. Casey had ordered the pizza while Nina changed from her business attire. She liked Nina in her suits, but she’d always found her approachably
sexy in the sweats and oversized T-shirt she wore now. Her dark, pixie-cut hair, stuck up in places where Casey imagined she’d run her hand through it during her frustration with the rush-hour drive from downtown.
Casey sat next to her. She picked the olives off her slice and pushed them to the side of her plate, staring at the almost donut-shaped indentations in the remaining cheese. If only she could convince herself they’d been mini-donuts and not bitter rings of what looked like fungus that tainted the taste of everything they touched.
Nina noticed her grimace as she bit into the slice. “You could have gotten them just on half.”
Casey shrugged. The kid who’d taken her delivery order over the phone had struggled to get her address correct. By the time she’d ordered the food, she’d lost all confidence that he’d get their order right anyway.
“So, tell me about your week. I feel like we’ve barely spoken since last Sunday.”
“Same as usual. More shoots than I can handle and a ton of editing in order to get proofs out in time.”
“I guess I shouldn’t complain that business is good for you.” Nina’s tone indicated she wanted to do just that. “I’d hoped we could have a serious talk this weekend, but it doesn’t seem like you’re up for it.”
Casey set her plate aside and rubbed a hand over her face. She really wasn’t. She’d known for a while that Nina wanted to move their relationship forward. And why wouldn’t she? As lesbians who’d dated for well over a year and hadn’t U-Hauled yet, they must have set some kind of record.
“We’ve been dating for almost two years.” Nina’s petulant-child voice wasn’t one of Casey’s favorites.
“Clearly we’re rounding up,” she murmured.
“What?”
“Nothing. Go ahead.”
“I just—I need to know, where’s this going? Are we going to live together? I want that. Do you?”
“I—” She glanced around the living room. She’d put away most of the photos of her and Jacqueline when they split up. But a few remained, those treasured photos with Sean in them. She’d never wanted him to think she aspired to wipe his other mother from their lives. Even without the photos, Jacqueline’s imprint remained on their home. She’d brought home many of the pieces in the house while traveling.
Nina set her plate aside. “Not here. I understand why that would be weird for you. Well, I’m trying to. But it’s been, what, eight years? When does it stop being her house?”
“I’m sorry.” Nina didn’t deserve to pay for Casey’s past. God, I’m such an ass. Nina had every right to expect more of their relationship. And if Casey didn’t want to lose her, she needed to make some concessions. “You’re right. Not here.” She took Nina’s hands in hers. “Maybe we could look for a place together, one that’s ours.”
“Yeah?” Hope warmed Nina’s eyes to honey brown, and the beginning of a smile pulled at the corners of her wide mouth.
Casey nodded.
Nina surged forward and wrapped her in a warm hug. Casey cupped the back of Nina’s neck where the fringe of her hair touched her skin. Nina pulled back, took Casey’s face between her hands, and stared into her eyes as if searching for something. Casey tried to block everything except her affection for Nina from her mind. Apparently pleased with what she found, Nina guided her close for a kiss.
Chapter Four
By the time Jacqueline fought her way out of Atlanta’s evening rush hour Friday afternoon and made her way over Monteagle Mountain, she’d arrived home late that night. She’d spent Saturday ensconced in her apartment, catching up on laundry and household chores. Her precious weekend passed far too quickly.
From time to time, she’d considered hiring a maid service. But giving the key to her apartment to a total stranger made her nervous. She already tried not to think about the security desk downstairs where a copy hung in a locked case alongside all of the others for the building. Besides, she enjoyed cleaning. She liked the combination of accomplishment and fresh lemon scent that permeated her rooms after she finished.
Sunday afternoon, she hit the grocery store, armed with her father’s list and feeling almost grateful that she’d be out of town in the coming week and didn’t have to also get her own groceries as well. She dreaded those trips to the store when she had to lump her items together on the belt in two separate stacks. On those occasions, she supervised the bagging so she didn’t have to then sort the items again before dropping off her father’s food.
By the time she pulled up in front of his house, she’d exhausted her patience with the busy store patrons, the apathetic clerk, and the Sunday drivers impeding her progress on the street. She just wanted to drop in for a few minutes, then go home and enjoy a quiet night before heading out to Memphis the next morning.
“He doesn’t even need half this stuff anyway,” she grumbled as she hauled the bags out of the trunk.
For the past couple of months, she’d noticed while putting away his groceries that he hadn’t eaten much of the food she’d bought the week before. Yet, when he gave her his list the next week, it contained all the same items. His freezer was beginning to look like he might be preparing for the apocalypse. And there was no chance the stray cat he insisted on feeding on his back porch would run out of food anytime soon. By all appearances, the little mongrel ate more than Teddy did.
She maneuvered her right hand, loaded with plastic bags, as close to the doorframe as she could and extended her thumb just far enough to hit the doorbell.
“Dad,” she called, more out of frustration than the hope he’d hear her, but the door didn’t open. After a few more seconds of silence, she huffed and set down some of the bags. She flexed her fingers to restore blood flow, then dug in her purse for her keys. “Dad.” She tried again as she pushed the door open.
He’d picked a great time for a nap. She’d told him in advance she’d be bringing his groceries and didn’t plan to stay long. She hadn’t even repacked her suitcase yet. As she rounded the corner into the kitchen, her irritation turned to panic when she saw him lying on the floor.
She dropped everything and knelt at his side. When she touched his shoulder, his eyes fluttered open, and though they were unfocused and glassy, relief made her limbs weak. “Dad? Can you hear me?”
He tried to roll over, then winced and moaned.
“Okay. Try not to move.” She crawled across the floor to where her purse had landed and searched for her cell phone, then managed to dial 9-1-1 despite her shaking fingers. She gave the address and answered what felt like a hundred questions about her father’s condition. When she couldn’t verify his level of alertness, the operator offered to stay on the phone until paramedics arrived, but Jacqueline had lost patience with the well-meaning woman and hung up. She shoved her cell into her back pocket and settled back on the floor next to her father.
She sat there talking quietly to him, nonsense that she wasn’t sure he followed, as he still seemed extremely disoriented and managed barely an incoherent mumble in response to any questions she asked. She stared at his chest, willing him to keep breathing, and didn’t move until the paramedics arrived and she had to let them in.
She’d always thought of herself as a person who handled crisis well. Typically, adrenaline made her more focused and sure, instead of paralyzing her like it did some people. But while watching paramedics lift her father onto a stretcher, she used every ounce of her concentration to remain standing upright, though she did manage to lock the front door as she followed them outside. She nodded numbly when one of them asked if she’d be following them to the hospital and hurried to her car.
A few minutes later, she pulled onto the street behind the ambulance. Through the back windows she could see one of the paramedics moving around her father, who still looked pretty unresponsive, but she couldn’t tell what he was doing. Several times, she had to jerk her eyes away from the rear of the ambulance and force them to the traffic and road conditions around her again. She wouldn’t be any help if she got T
-boned on the way to the hospital.
*
“Mom.”
Casey glanced up from her laptop screen, surprised when Sean came through the front door. She’d settled against the arm of the couch an hour ago, laid her legs along the length of the cushions, and promised herself she wouldn’t do any work tonight. She’d lasted nearly an hour before she’d pulled her computer onto her lap to answer just one email. “What are you doing here?”
“Mama called. Poppa went to the hospital in an ambulance.”
“What?” She shoved her laptop onto the coffee table, turned, and put her feet on the floor.
“He fell, but she said he’s okay. I’m on my way up there. She asked me to stop by his house and get his slippers. They’re admitting him, and you know how particular he is about his slippers.” He stood in the middle of the living room, looking a little lost. His eyebrows were pinched with worry and his shoulders stooped in a way she hadn’t seen since she and Jacqueline first split up. He’d never been able to hide his anxiety from her.
“Okay. Have you been over to Poppa’s yet?”
“No.” He didn’t move.
“Do you want me to go with you?”
He nodded. “And to the hospital?”
“Of course, sweetie.” She headed for the kitchen to grab her purse and her car keys. She wasn’t about to let him drive. In fact, she wasn’t very happy with Jacqueline for calling him at school and encouraging him to come home upset.
Minutes later, she pulled her car into Teddy’s driveway and Sean jumped out. She stared at the front of the house and hoped, as Sean had relayed, he truly was going to be okay. Someday she’d have to face losing him, but neither she nor Sean was anywhere near ready.
From the first day they’d brought him home, Teddy had been a surrogate father and a grandfather all rolled into one. Sean had taken to him, probably more quickly than he did even to Casey or Jacqueline. And, after raising just one daughter, Teddy had clearly loved having someone around who wanted to learn guy stuff.