Turning Point

by Lara Zielinsky

  “James!” Brenna shouted. Her worry subsided when her son surfaced. The joyŹful expression on his face demonstrated he was fine and eager for another run. He looked at her, shrugged, and slowed his steps for about three paces before he ran to the end of the line of kids. Brenna shook her head, decided against starting a battle of wills, and splashed the water surface lightly in her distraction.

  “Lessons?” Cassidy asked, her voice sounding in Brenna’s right ear at the same moment Ryan’s small hand grasped Brenna’s forearm.

  Brenna inhaled and exhaled to release the shiver of reaction the double assault had on her senses — one innocent and the other unintentionally seductive. Cassidy had a warm throaty voice when she talked softly. Shaking her head, Brenna fought to just answer the question, trying to avoid letting her own voice go equally soft in response. “No, just pure gumption.”

  “I wonder where he gets that from,” Cassidy mused, her eyes dancing with laughter, though not so much as a chuckle passed her lips.

  Despite the flutters in her stomach, Brenna bantered back, “Oh really?”

  Cnssldy nodded. “You’ve got more guts than ten people put together. I really believe that, especially after this week.”

  Brenna Hushed under the praise. “Just trying to help,” she said quietly.

  Cassidy did not respond. In her curiosity, Brenna looked back. She found a softening light staring at her. She felt as though the gaze were swallowing her whole. Are you feeling what I’m feeling? She almost opened her mouth to voice the question and then suddenly clamped her jaw shut as a voice in her head warned, Don’t go there.

  It was barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

  Two hours later, the springs were abandoned to cries of “I’m starving!” and the crowd descended on the campsite. The portable grills were lit and hamburgers and hot dogs set to cook. Brenna monitored one, and Mike monitored the other. Both had helpers to pass the paper plates of buns back and forth to the campers. Next to her, filling the plates, Cassidy was silent. Taking her cue from that, Brenna focused on the meat.

  After a while, Cassidy asked, “Want to trade? You could go eat.”

  “No, I’m all right.” Brenna flipped over another patty and then looked up. “Why don’t you make yourself up a plate and go sit. I’ve got this.”

  Cassidy scanned the groupings, apparently considering who to join. Brenna watched Cassidy’s face slip into a bemused, indulgent smile that lit up her fair feaŹtures. Brenna followed the gaze and saw what had her attention.

  Thomas had coaxed Ryan into his lap, and the two were alternating bites of hot dog and chips. The boy, with a young version of his mother’s intense look, painstakŹingly pulled off bites and fed them to Thomas, who playfully snapped his teeth over each morsel.

  “I’ve never seen him do that,” Cassidy marveled.

  Brenna laughed. “Thomas did it to get him to eat. He was probably too excited to settle down.”

  The two women watched a while as the interplay between their sons continued, then Cassidy turned to make up a plate for herself.

  Brenna watched the bent head, aware of the smile still playing on the full lips and the corresponding tightness in her own chest. Flexing her grip on the spatula handle, she suddenly realized her hand was hot. “Ow!” Brenna jerked back from the flames that had licked her palm. The spatula dropped with a clang. A cold wet paper towel was suddenly pressed around her injured hand as she gripped the wrist with her left hand.

  “Are you all right?” Cassidy asked, carefully supporting Brenna’s hand while she removed the paper towel to look underneath at the angry red skin.

  “I… Yeah.” Brenna grimaced as Cassidy turned the injured palm up, stretching the skin near her wrist painfully. “Ow.” Cassidy immediately stopped pulling.

  “There’s no blistering yet,” Cassidy reported, the relief plain in her voice. “We can put a salve on it and wrap it up.” She wet the paper towel again and pressed it against the tender redness. “Does it hurt much?”

  “It’s numb,” Brenna admitted worriedly. “I’ll go find some first aid cream.”

  “Go sit. I’ll bring your lunch over. Hot dog or hamburger?”

  “Burger with ketchup.” Brenna grimaced again as the light pressure keeping the towel in place aggravated the abused skin. “Damn,” she cursed under her breath.

  Cassidy went to work on the two plates, pulling the rest of the burgers and dogs

  off the fire and following quickly as Brenna looked for u place to sit. She settled on A

  grassy spot just outside those circled around one of the unlit fire pits. Cassidy was at her side quickly.

  Caroline, another chaperone, noticed Brenna’s predicament. “Burn?” Brenna nodded, and Caroline jumped to her feet to grab a first aid kit. The hand was salved and gently wrapped. Throughout the treatment, Brenna felt Cassidy’s hand on her shoulder. Though she felt absurd for having done something so careless, Brenna appreciated the quiet presence.

  The emergency handled, Brenna accepted her plate from Cassidy, balancing it in her lap and eating awkwardly with her left hand. When she looked up from her hamburger, she found Thomas studying her, Ryan still in his lap, secured with a big hand. Thomas’ head tilted in question. Shrugging, Brenna offered a twitch of her injured hand conveying that the pain was minimal. Her son nodded and returned to entertaining Ryan and a young girl next to him with the “disappearing potato chip” trick.

  A scavenger hunt took up the afternoon. Still nursing her hand, Brenna declined to lead a team. Her son, James, and his team, the Blue Bombers, found all thirty items first, earning a grab bag assortment of movie tickets and coupons, as well as baseball and other trading cards.

  When her hand began to throb and itch, Brenna gave up on trying to keep a public face and retreated to her tent to rest and read. The noise of the zipper opening drew her attention as Cassidy stepped inside and hunched over, crowding Brenna for a moment before folding up on her own sleeping bag.

  The taller woman stretched out, offering up a sybaritic sigh. Rolling over and propping her head on her hand, she took a deep breath and exhaled. “I haven’t had this much fun in months.” She nudged the book in Brenna’s hands. “What are you reading?”

  Turning it over, Brenna presented the front. “The Red Tent”

  “Enjoying it?”

  “It’s pretty good.” Brenna started to turn the book back. Its spine bumped her injured hand, and she winced.

  “How’s your hand?” Cassidy wrapped her fingers around Brenna’s hand.

  Brenna felt as though she had swallowed her tongue. “It’s sore,” she managed in soft protest, withdrawing from Cassidy’s touch.

  The other woman nodded. “I’ll rewrap it while you tell me what the book’s about.”

  “It’s biblical fiction, about Jacob’s four wives and his only daughter, Dinah. She’s the narrator.” As she talked, Cassidy retrieved the first aid kit from her own supplies and applied more burn salve. Brenna’s eyes watered at the renewed pain.

  “I’m sorry,” Cassidy offered, brushing Brenna’s lower arm soothingly with her thumb.

  Putting down the book, Brenna wiped her eyes with her uninjured hand. “It’s not your fault.”

  “I know. I feel bad all the same.” She held Brenna’s hand gingerly in her lap as she took pains to wrap the gauze without further aggravating the skin. “Tell me more about the book.”

  Watching Cassidy’s hands move around her own, Brenna had lost her train of thought. “Oh… Urn…”

  “How do they handle jealousy?” Cassidy prompted.

  “Culturally, it’s very different. There seems to be a lot of negotiating going on.”

  “Humans just can’t help being jealous,” Cassidy said thoughtfully. “Monogamy just…is, I think.”

  “Many ancient cultures practiced polygamy, but like you, I have a hard time seeing how it would all work. That’s why the story’s fascinating, I guess. It seems to work for them.”
/>   “Is that a recommendation?”

  “I could loan it to you when I’m finished.” As Cassidy let go, Brenna flexed her rewrapped hand, making only a mild face. “Thank you.”

  Cassidy leaned back, tucked the kit back inside her bag, and crossed her hands under her head, staring up at the tent peak. “Best I can do.”

  Rolling onto her side, Brenna could see Cassidy struggling to explain herself. “It’ll get better.”

  “I know,” she said finally. “Do you think you’ll be all right to climb tomorrow?”

  “Not without my gloves, which I was planning to wear anyway.”

  “I should probably go take your place in the dinner prep,” Cassidy said sudŹdenly.

  Brenna’s bandaged hand on her arm forestalled her. “It’s only four o’clock. Relax.”

  Cassidy relaxed back against her sleeping bag. “You don’t mind the company?”

  “Go on. Sleep.” Brenna watched Cassidy’s eyes close as the blond head turned into the cushioning of the bag.

  “I am a little worn out. Must be all this fresh air,” Cassidy mumbled.

  Brenna’s right hand lay between them. It was covered gently. Book forgotten, Brenna leaned back and watched the gentle rise and fall of Cassidy’s chest, soon drifting off herself in the quiet.

  Chapter 21

  “Mom? Ms. Hyland?”

  Cassidy stirred as the call came again from outside the tent. She flexed her wrist and arm and found an unfamiliar texture pressing against her palm. Focusing, she realized she was holding Brenna’s injured hand in her own. Gently she released her grip and tracked up to the other woman’s profile, finding the distinctively feaŹtured face turned toward her. A sharp pang of desire made her breath catch.

  Is it possible to fall in love in a day? She shook her head. This has been building for a lot longer than a day. What she had always felt as admiration was finally blosŹsoming, having been buried under work and their intense and adversarial relationŹship for weeks, probably months.

  Cassidy grasped Brenna’s other arm and shook gently until Brenna stirred. Blue eyes blinked open, capturing her, and she gasped.

  “Cassidy?”

  The husky voice flowed over her senses with a shocking tenderness. “It’s dinner call,” she guessed, drawing away quickly as Brenna sat up.

  “Boy, I really sacked out.” Brenna sighed, rubbing her cheeks with her palms and wincing as she aggravated her burn.

  “Mom?”

  Brenna glanced to the tent opening. With a sigh she shifted to it, unzipping it. “Dinner, I guess. Hmm?” she invited over her shoulder to Cassidy, who had not moved.

  Looking away as Brenna exited the tent, Cassidy tried to pin her emotions down and contain them. She knew what lust was about. She had even experienced it in the context of a woman once. This was different. The urge to touch, yes, but more…the desire to hold and cherish was also present. At last she released a long breath and followed Brenna into the evening air.

  Brenna’s son, James, stood a few feet away, looking at the women as they emerged, straightening their sleep-wrinkled clothes. He held Ryan by the hand.

  Stepping forward, Brenna brushed her son’s hair from a cheek and kissed his temple. “Thanks,” she said.

  “You were sleeping?”

  “Yes. That’s not so strange.” Brenna ruffled her son’s hair. “I’ve had a long day.” She looked at Cassidy with a wry expression. “And I’m not as young as I used to be.”

  Mike hailed them from the grill. “Corn on the cob? Fish?”

  Giving James a parting pat on the back, Brenna led the way to Mike, took two plates, and passed one to Cassidy. “Thanks. Did we miss anything?” Carefully, Brenna picked up the cob in her left hand and bit into the kernels, enjoying the sweet savor on her tongue.

  “Not really. Thomas and I double-checked the equipment for tomorrow. Most people relaxed in their tents for a little while.” He turned a pair of fillets. Spearing one, he held it up. “Fresh fish? Can’t beat it.”

  Biting into the one delivered to her plate, Cassidy agreed. “Delicious.”

  Seated on a log by a now-lit campfire, Brenna and Cassidy listened to the hum of conversation around them, content for the moment to be quiet. An orange glow lit the western sky as the sun set.

  Caroline slid over, “How’s the hand?”

  Brenna flexed her bandaged hand, able to stifle the wince. “Not so bad anyŹmore.” When she dropped her hand and looked up, Cassidy’s deeply concerned gaze intersected hers. “Really,” she insisted.

  Unnerved by the fire that began flickering behind the concern in pale blue eyes, Brenna felt the need to escape. “I think I’ll take a walk.”

  She handed her plate to Caroline and set out of camp. Passing the main table, she plucked an apricot from the basket of fruit. Aimlessly, she turned onto a path that would take her higher up the mountain. Determined to sort out her feelings, she followed the narrowing path, trying all the while to dispel the image of kissing away that doubting look from Cassidy’s face.

  She’s a woman, her inner voice pointed out. Brenna was surprised to find that the inferno inside her did not dim for a second.

  You’re married. All right, that caused a brief flicker. However, her heart softŹened again at another visit from her memory: Cassidy’s face as they hugged in the Pinnacle lot the week after Ryan’s mishap in Sports Warehouse. The fires roared back to life.

  Brenna was forced to acknowledge that it was desire she felt — not protectiveness, not simple friendship. Her belly was thick with it; her chest ached with it. Her breaths shortened. / can’t be feeling this.

  She felt like turning tail and running. Her heart pounded, her head throbbed, and her knees shook. She couldn’t move. Sinking to the ground against a tree, Brenna closed her eyes against the images that would not stop now that they had come forward to be recognized.

  The crack of dry wood breaking brought her head up sharply. Twilight shadows concealed the face, but it wasn’t necessary to see; she knew who had followed her.

  She dug her hands into the tree behind her and rose slowly, steadying herself in the maelstrom of emotions assaulting her, challenging her conscience. Should I flee again? Or is it time to stop running? She studied Cassidy’s silhouette. The other woman’s head was tilted, her shoulders rounded. She hesitated, but then stepped forŹward.

  All contrary arguments were crushed under the weighty evidence of a reality far more powerful as Brenna realized, / do feel. “How did this happen?”

  “So you do…I wondered if it was just me.” Cassidy stepped hesitantly forward into a beam of moonlight that pierced the canopy of trees.

  Brenna held her breath. What will she ask of me?

  Neither knew who reached out first, but they fell into a hug which became an embrace, their heads turned into one another’s shoulder. They inhaled in surprise and sensation, and their lips touched lightly. The tiny flames in their souls licked up through their chests and joined where their lips melded in a nascent, delicate kiss, the faintest brushing of their lips one against the other. The sensations — warm, cool, and dewy soft, like rose petals brushing against their sensitized skin — rocked them both.

  Brenna gasped for breath, and Cassidy reluctantly let her go.

  “We can’t do this,” Brenna said huskily, though this was exactly what she had wanted since that morning in the car.

  “You want this,” Cassidy countered softly, knowingly. Her palm warmed Brenna’s cheek as the other woman fought against the desire to lean into the caress. “All day…I saw you. I watched you.”

  “I know. But this isn’t some fantasy, some role.” Brenna’s words sounded uneon-

  vincing, even to her own cars.

  Cassidy shook her head. “No, you’re right. It’s real.”

  Brenna’s eyes widened, her expression worried, hopeful, and alarmed in quick succession. Palms tenderly held her cheeks, and Brenna’s stomach flip-flopped as warm, full lips brushed hers again. />
  “It’s very real,” Cassidy assured her quietly again. Leaving behind a layer of cool air filled with a scent of passion that made Brenna shiver, Cassidy disappeared into the darkness.

  What the hell do I do now? Brenna leaned weakly against the tree that still held her somewhat upright. Traitorously, her body shook with the desire to run after Cassidy.

  A woman of forty plus years shouldn’t be reduced to a puddle of mush from a single kiss.

  Ah, hell, who am I kidding? This wasn’t about what should be. As she had told Cassidy, there certainly seemed to be something here.

  So what do I do now?

  Go after her.

  Brenna stumbled away from the tree and through the darkness, trying to find a path out.

  The chaperones and children had gathered around the fires, each carrying sticks stripped of their bark. Several adults were armed with bags of marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate bars. The shadows were deep; it was hard to see peoŹple until you were right on top of them. Rubbing her face to hide her emotional turŹmoil, she stepped into the milling group. Where she promptly bumped into Mike.

  “Oh, hey. Saw you go off earlier. Everything all right?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I just went to stretch.”

  “Sure. Here’s your stuff.” He supplied her with the s’more makings and pointed out an unoccupied log by the furthest fire.

  As she passed each group, she looked at the fire-lit faces. She worried when she did not see one in particular. Did Cassidy even come back? She looked back at the woods, worried that the blonde might be still out there somewhere. And you hurt her.

  With children crowding around her, Brenna settled to a log. Someone prompted from the darkness, “Sing-a-long!”

  Suggestions were passed around and Brenna listened. Finally Little Rabbit Fufu was selected. She started to sing and do the hand gestures for the story-song, the children mimicking her and the other adults.