No Other Love

by Harper Bliss

  “At least you would have a garden. Think about that.” Jane winked at Mia. “And think about those kids you want. Their grandparents would be so close by, you’d basically have live-in babysitters.”

  “That’s exactly what Lou said.” Mia sniggered. “Has she been talking to you? Going behind my back to get you to persuade me?”

  “You know Lou wouldn’t even think of doing such a thing. And I’ve known Rita and Reg as long as I’ve known Annie and they are so easy to get along with.” Saying this reminded Jane of what Mia had said earlier about the history they had.

  “I’m not even sure they’re fully on board. I know they would do anything for their daughter, but I’m not sure that extends to me. Rita in particular doesn’t seem to have warmed up to me yet, which I understand.”

  “You’d hardly be moving in with them. It would be like a semidetached.” Jane didn’t have it in her to pry—unlike Annie, who would have jumped at this opportunity to know more about what had happened between Lou and Mia in the past.

  “You’re the voice of reason, as always.” Mia drained the last of her coffee and put her empty cup on the table. “Have things settled down between you and Annie?” Mia was much more forward than Jane with her questions. Perhaps that was a difference between today’s youth and a woman on the cusp of menopause. Audacity. A lack of self-consciousness. Jane’s age difference with Mia wasn’t that much bigger than the number of years between her and Annie, yet the generational difference between them felt much more divisive. Or maybe this time in their lives was when the age difference was most obvious. Jane tried to remember herself and Annie when she was thirty-three, but they’d been together for so long by then, it hardly played a part.

  “We’re getting there.” Jane stared into her mug. “Living with a writer isn’t always easy. Sometimes I think Annie is a saint for putting up with me for so long.”

  Mia quirked up her eyebrows. “I thought you were angry at her?”

  “It’s never that simple in a relationship, is it?”

  “Don’t ask me. I’m hardly an expert. Lou and I have been together for eight months and that is by far the longest I’ve been with anyone.”

  “I understand your reluctance to live next to her parents better now.” Jane grinned.

  “Give me some inside information, Jane. What’s it like having been with someone for twenty years? What do I have to look forward to?”

  Jane cradled her mug between her hands and leaned back in her chair. “It’s the most comforting, warm feeling I’ve ever had. Knowing there is always someone you can count on, someone who will have your back and fight with you against the wrongs life inflicts on you.” A smile appeared on her face. “And sometimes we quarrel and hurt each other, and even though that can be a pain in the ass, it’s all part of it. There’s just nothing better than finding that person that fits you the most. I simply can’t imagine my life without Annie.”

  “Aw.” Mia cooed. “Now I wish we were ten years later and Lou and I had a couple of brats running around already.”

  “I can’t give you any advice on how your life will be like with children.”

  “Did you never want any?”

  Jane shrugged. “Nah. At the risk of sounding like a cliché, my books are my children. And they take a lot less work. And they make money instead of spending it.” She threw in a chuckle. “And I’ve always been convinced I wouldn’t have made the best parent.”

  “Why? Because of your own upbringing?”

  “Oh, no. My parents are very decent people. Just because of how I am.”

  “How’s that then?”

  Christ, Mia really had no shame when it came to asking direct questions.

  “Too sensitive for my own good,” Jane said. “Just having the Pink Bean in the shop has been enough to drastically throw me off my game. Sometimes, it’s like I feel things more than other people do. That’s the best way to describe it.”

  “You’re hypersensitive. Like Lou,” Mia said matter-of-factly. “Lou wants children though. Very much so.”

  “Good for her.” Jane didn’t really know what to say to that.

  “I didn’t mean to imply your reason for not wanting children isn’t valid,” Mia was quick to add. “More people should have the courage to be so honest with themselves.”

  “It’s not the only reason, and when I get asked the question, which has happened one too many times over the years, it’s usually not the one I give.” Jane managed a smile. “People who do have children hardly ever get asked why they have them, so why should I have to give a reason for not having any?”

  “Because the woman working the coffee machine in your shop doesn’t really think before she speaks.” Mia shot her one of her smiles. Christ, that girl had a smile on her. For a split second, Jane wondered, now that Annie had developed a crush on another woman, why she’d gone and fallen for Kristin and not Mia—because Annie did have a history of falling for the younger ones. Jane shrugged it off as a ridiculous thought and flashed Mia a smile back.

  “This is why I’m not that fond of small talk,” Jane said.

  “Is that what this is? Small talk?” Mia asked. “And I thought we were friends having a meaningful conversation.” She still had that smile on her face.

  Friends? Maybe Jane had a hard time recognizing the blossoming of a friendship because of what had happened last time she’d got too friendly with someone. “I’d say we’re well on the way to being friends.”

  Mia puffed some air out of her cheeks. “And what? I’m still on probation for now? What does it take to become friends with Jane Quinn, then? Do enlighten me so I can adjust my strategy.”

  Jane chuckled. “It’s very simple, but make no mistake, it’s by no means easy.” The way Jane was bantering with Mia right then, they might as well be friends. “You have to take me as I am. The full dysfunctional, hypersensitive package.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, Jane. I was just telling Lou the other day that I’m sure the reason why she’s such a good teacher is because of how sensitive and perceptive she is. I’m willing to bet that’s why you’re such a great writer. All the emotion you’re able to convey must come from somewhere.”

  Jane narrowed her eyes. She was starting to see Mia in a different light altogether. “What on earth are you doing working in a coffee shop, Mia? You should be a psychotherapist or a spiritual healer or something of that ilk.”

  Mia chuckled. “Hardly.”

  The door of the shop opened and they both looked at who walked in.

  Annie, wet hair clinging to her head, waved at them. “Only me,” she said.

  For a split second, Jane was sad that her alone time with Mia had come to an end.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  It was ten minutes before closing time and Annie was contemplating putting up the Closed sign early when the door of the book shop swung open and Sheryl stood in the doorway.

  Annie’s heart skipped a beat. Kristin had kept her promise and stayed away from the shop. Annie had no idea what she’d told Sheryl about the reason she wasn’t spending any more time in the Newtown branch.

  “Just made it,” Sheryl said, her tone casual. She strode to the counter with her typical swagger. “I rushed here after my last class.” There was no sign of Sheryl being in any physical distress—not as far as Annie could see. “I’m urgently looking for a copy of The Female Eunuch. Would you happen to have that in stock?”

  “Let me check.” Annie shuffled to where her laptop was standing. She wished it was bigger and she could hide behind it better. “You should have called instead of dashed over here in such a hurry.”

  Sheryl shrugged. “I figured it had been a while since I was here. I thought I’d stop by and say hello.”

  While Annie was looking up the book, she could feel Sheryl’s gaze burn her skin. “I’m afraid I don’t have it in stock, but I can order it and have it here by the day after tomorrow,” Annie said.

  “What a shame. I was hoping to
have it for tomorrow.” Sheryl put on a weird kind of half-smile. “Are you sure there’s nothing you can do for me?”

  “The best I can do is give you a used copy from my own collection. As a personal favor.” Annie was starting to feel backed into a corner.

  “That’d be great,” Sheryl said, head tilted, gaze locked on Annie’s.

  “Do you want to wait here or come up?” Annie asked.

  “I’ll come up, if you don’t mind. That’ll give me a chance to say hi to Jane. If she’s home.”

  “Sure.” Annie tried to sound casual. “Let me just lock up.”

  Annie took her time walking to the door and closing the shop so she could gather her thoughts. Maybe this was all in her head. Maybe Sheryl’s sudden appearance was completely innocent. She thought it best to behave as though it was, although she would keep her guard up.

  She guided Sheryl up the stairs. It was the first time she’d invited her into their private quarters, since that reciprocal dinner party had never happened—for obvious reasons. Although those reasons might not be so obvious to Sheryl.

  Sheryl looked around while Annie busied herself searching for the book. Annie could never predict whether Jane would venture out of her office or not when she heard other people in the flat. That would depend on her mood—which hadn’t been great lately. And on whether she was wearing a bra or not.

  “I could have sworn it was here,” Annie said. She wasn’t sure if she should offer Sheryl a drink and invite her to sit. It would be weird if she didn’t. “Please, have a seat.” She glanced at Sheryl as she made her way to the couch, sat down, and slung one leg over the other. “Actually, I think the book might be in Jane’s office. I’ll be right back.”

  Annie’s heart was pounding as though she was being chased by a bear. She rapped on Jane’s door. Agitated as she was, she didn’t wait for Jane to reply and pushed the door ajar.

  Jane glanced at her. It had just gone six. Annie was fairly certain she hadn’t disturbed her in the middle of writing the scene that would constitute her comeback as a practicing writer.

  “Sheryl’s here,” Annie whispered, as though this was confidential information. “She’s looking for a copy of The Female Eunuch. I told her she could have ours. Do you have it in here?”

  “Sheryl’s here?” Jane echoed.

  “She’d like to say hi.” Annie could do with her wife’s presence in the living room, if only to make her less of a target for Sheryl’s unspoken wrath.

  “Okay,” Jane said to Annie’s relief. “I’ll be out in a second and I’ll bring the book. I’m sure it’s in here somewhere.”

  “Thanks, babe.” Annie was of half a mind to walk over and give Jane a big hug, but instead she turned on her heels and joined Sheryl in the living room.

  She suppressed the acute need to pour herself a glass of wine, out of courtesy to Sheryl, to whom she couldn’t offer one, and sat as far away from her as possible. As if physical distance made a difference and could assuage her rising levels of mortification. Because that was really what it was.

  Sheryl might be there for a completely innocent reason. Annie didn’t know her that well, but she was pretty sure Sheryl was not a malicious person, out to defend her wife’s honor. But her presence confronted Annie with her feelings and the fact that the person she’d had a crush on was in a long-term relationship herself.

  Sheryl curled up a corner of her mouth and regarded Annie for a few long moments, and in those moments, Annie was sure she knew. Of course Kristin had told her partner. If Annie had been in Kristin’s position, she’d have confided in Jane as well. It was the logical thing to do—and not something to keep from your significant other.

  “Kristin says hi,” Sheryl said, breaking the silence.

  “Oh.” Hearing Sheryl say her name took Annie aback. Where was Jane? But she could hardly count on her wife to get her out of this awkward situation. This was a consequence of Annie’s actions alone. She was the one who had to deal with the fall-out.

  Sheryl’s gaze remained glued on Annie’s. Annie wanted so desperately to look away, but she felt that would be the same as admitting guilt. As saying to Sheryl: yes, I fantasized about your partner. Even while that was true, that was not a low Annie wanted to stoop to. Not while she was being scrutinized by Sheryl like this.

  Thankfully, just as the silence between them dragged on—Annie’s uttered “Oh” hanging in the air like the admission of guilt she’d wanted to avoid—Jane burst into the room.

  “Hi.” With a spring in her step Annie hadn’t expected, she headed over to Sheryl and kissed her on the cheek. “I believe I have what you’ve been looking for.” She held out the book.

  “You’re a lifesaver.” Sheryl took the book from Jane and turned it over in her hands. “Well, no one was going to die if I didn’t get my hands on it by tomorrow, but it will score me some points with the head of the department.”

  “It has a few scuff marks and I tried to flatten the earmarked pages as best I could.” Jane sat down next to Sheryl.

  “How much do I owe you?” Sheryl addressed Annie.

  Annie waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Nothing at all. See it as a perk of going into business with a book shop.”

  “Really?” Sheryl quirked up her eyebrows. “That’s so kind of you.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Annie just wanted Sheryl to leave. The tension in the room was getting a bit too much for her to gracefully handle.

  “Would you like a cup of tea?” Jane asked, then sniggered. “Or coffee, of course.”

  “That’s all right.” Sheryl shuffled to the edge of her seat. “I’ll let you ladies get on with your evening.” She pushed herself up. “Thanks for this. And we should really get together for another dinner sometime soon.” She pointed this remark solely at Jane—as though Annie would not be welcome at such a dinner.

  “That would be great.” Jane stood as well. Annie followed their example and, as she rose, she felt her knees give a little. She should really get a grip. Sheryl was hardly the type to waltz into her home and punch her in the nose. But in a way, this silent recrimination was worse. Because of what it implied and the possibilities it offered for all those unspoken emotions to fester. For a minute, and for this reason, Annie wondered if she should say something, offer an apology to clear the air. But she let the thought slip from her mind as she deemed it too risky.

  “I’ll show you out,” Jane said and led the way to the staircase.

  “Bye, Annie.” Sheryl turned around and gave Annie one last, knowing stare. There was no doubt left in Annie’s mind that the book Sheryl had been after had been nothing but a ruse to come over and mark her territory.

  When Jane came back upstairs she stood in the doorway for a minute and just gazed at Annie. Annie had sunk back into her chair and waited for her to speak.

  “You could cut the tension with a knife in here,” Jane said.

  “Did she say anything else?” Annie asked.

  Jane shook her head. “She gave me a big hug goodbye. As though we wouldn’t see each other for years to come. Or maybe I looked like I really needed it.”

  “She was marking her territory,” Annie said.

  Jane chuckled. “Kind of sweet in a way, I guess.” She walked over to where Annie was sitting and plopped down next to her.

  “In a way.” This reminded Annie of all the times, seven years ago, she had wanted to knock on Beth Walsh’s door and ask her what the hell she thought she was doing. Then she caught herself comparing again—and thinking about things she should long have forgotten, or at the very least forgiven. “Thanks for coming to my rescue. I’m not sure what would have happened if you hadn’t come out of your office.”

  “A sexy cat fight, I presume,” Jane said, painting a smile on her face. “The sounds of which would surely have dragged me out.”

  Did this joke mean Jane was ready to have a laugh about this? Or was it just the absurd situation of having Sheryl in their living room pretending to n
eed that book that warranted a chuckle between them?

  “Thank goodness Sheryl is an academic. She doesn’t really strike me as the fighting type.” Annie wondered if Kristin knew her partner had paid her a visit.

  “I’m not so sure of that.” Jane smiled wider. “Furthermore, I can really picture the two of you engaged in a slippery oil wrestling match. I don’t think Sheryl would say no to that.”

  Annie finally managed a chuckle. She was the one not ready to laugh at this. In the end, a good giggle was the only action that could take away the sting of humiliation that still seared through her. “She wouldn’t stand a chance if it came to that,” Annie said.

  Jane drew her lips into a pensive pout.

  “You’re picturing it, aren’t you?” Annie narrowed her eyes.

  “But it’s actually harder than I first thought. It just doesn’t look… dignified for ladies of your age.”

  “Dignified?” Annie huffed out. Nothing about this has ever been dignified. It was only after a beat that she caught Jane’s jibe at her age. “I thought you had a penchant for ladies of a certain age.” She brought her hand to Jane’s neck.

  Jane leaned her head back, indicating she welcomed Annie’s touch. “Hm.” After a few minutes of silence, which Annie didn’t have the heart to fill, Jane asked, “How long do you think Kristin will have to stay away from her own shop? And how long until Mia starts asking questions? Obviously, Sheryl knows. Which makes me wonder who else does.”

  Annie didn’t have the answers to any of these questions, even though she was the very reason for their existence at all.

  “I don’t know, babe.” How long had it been since Annie had asked Kristin to give her some time to get over her silly crush? And was she getting over it? She didn’t have much of a choice. “I don’t think Kristin is the sort of person to shout this sort of thing from the rooftops.”

  “Maybe, but I’m not sure Sheryl is cut from the same discreet cloth.” Jane sighed. “And in a few weeks, they’ll all be in the shop for Caitlin and Josephine’s book launch party.”