Turning Point

by Lara Zielinsky

  Brenna could not breathe. She had stiffened against Kevin the instant she recŹognized Cassidy settling on their curb. She practically identified the woman by the curve of her rear in her jeans as she bent at the waist. No need to go higher and actuŹally see her face. Mortification renewed, she tried for nonchalance, forcing herself to relax against Kevin, whose hand stroked over the muscles in her upper arm.

  You ought to make introductions, her mannered conscience prodded.

  Her terror issued a curt No.

  No one’s paying attention to the parade, her conscience prodded again.

  Both Thomas and Kevin had fixated on Cassidy. For a measure of calm, and since no one could see her eyes clearly, Brenna focused on Ryan in Cassidy’s lap. “I’m sorry, you’ve never met. Urn. Kevin, this is Cassidy Hyland, from Time Trails. Cassidy, my…husband Kevin Shea, and you already know Thomas.”

  Brenna offered up thanks as Cassidy’s gaze left her and Cassidy grasped Kevin’s hand. “Nice to meet you,” Kevin said politely.

  “The same.” Cassidy returned her hands to her son’s shoulders, where Brenna watched them move slowly up and down the boy’s small arms. “This is Ryan, my son.”

  Kevin nodded. “How old is he?”

  “Five.” Both women’s voices mingled in the answer.

  Brenna sat up and turned so she was crouched over the curb without being supported by Kevin. “His birthday was back in October. Cassidy threw a party and invited the cast.”

  “Oh.” He rubbed her back. “So, how do you like working on Time Trails, Cassidy?”

  “I’m sure Brenna’s told you all sorts of stories.”

  “A few,” Kevin acknowledged.

  Brenna’s stomach began to twist. I’m imagining the rising tension, right?

  “I should probably try to cross back to our seats,” Cassidy said.

  Thomas’ hand shot past Brenna’s shoulder and landed on Cassidy’s. “Stick around. You’ll never find your spot now. At least there’s room here.”

  Brenna turned her gaze from the slender throat swallowing nervously and the dimpled chin angling up to meet Thomas’ gaze. His hand rested on Cassidy’s jackŹeted shoulder. Cassidy’s throat moved as she prepared her words. Brenna wished, just for a moment, that she had not raised such a well-mannered child, as Thomas squeezed the shoulder, silently convincing Cassidy to accept the invitation.

  “All right,” Cassidy finally answered. Glancing once more to both Brenna and Kevin, she settled back on the curb and wrapped herself around Ryan.

  The matter decided, everyone turned back just in time to be showered by the water sprayed by the thirty-foot watering spout on the Bromeliad Society’s garden float.

  Wiping her face required her glasses to come off, Brenna realized. She did not want to, but the light refracting through the water droplets bothered her eyes. RelucŹtantly she tugged off the glasses and wiped them on the bottom of her cotton top. Lifting her head to put them back on, she caught Cassidy’s sidelong glance. The other woman also held sunglasses in her hands.

  The intersection of their gazes hit Brenna in the stomach, hard. Her lips tremŹbled and her breath caught. Shaken, she looked away to the parade.

  The remains of the turkey will barely be enough to cook down for soup stock, Brenna lamented, surveying the scattered dishes.

  James reached for the bowl of creamed onions, then paused. “Anyone else want these?” He looked at her expectantly.

  As if I have room for another bite. She shook her head. James grinned and scooped the remains of the creamy vegetable onto his plate, setting aside the empty serving dish.

  “More sweet potatoes?” Brenna asked, reaching for the pan by her elbow. She cast a significant look at Kevin opposite her.

  He raised his hands. “None for me, thanks.” Picking up his wine glass, he sipped.

  Thomas spoke up from her right. “I’ll take them.”

  Brenna passed the pan, and soon the yams were gone as well. “We used to have

  leftovers,” she complained good naturedly.

  It had all been devoured by the boys. She herself had only a single plate, with small portions. She’d eaten reluctantly, trying to cover her lack of appetite and anxiŹeties which lingered from the day.

  “They’re growing boys.” Kevin chuckled.

  “It’s great stuff,” James chimed in, reaching for the bowl of stuffing and serving himself a heap.

  “I’m glad.” She dropped her eyes from her son and collected her napkin from her lap. When she looked up to put it on the table, she found Kevin studying her. “Yes?”

  “I was just thinking that we could leave the bottomless pits here to clear the table and do the dishes.” He lifted the remains of the bottle of red wine they had drunk with the meal. “Want to sit on the deck and watch the sunset?”

  The tenor of his voice bothered her, but Brenna nodded. “All right.” She looked at Thomas. “When you finish in here, you can come out and join us.”

  “Dishes?” James pouted, still eating.

  Thomas shrugged. “Sure.”

  She leaned forward, grasping Thomas’ hand and kissing James on the cheek. “Thanks.”

  Kevin had risen meanwhile and stood at her shoulder when she straightened. “Ready?” he asked.

  She let him pull her chair back, and retrieved her wine glass before following him out to the back deck. The light breeze picked up her hair, and Kevin slipped his arm around her, pulling her into his warmer frame. “It’s a nice night,” he said as she settled beside him on the A-frame swing.

  Brenna didn’t answer, her pulse nervously thrumming in her ears.

  “So this was your summer project?” Kevin stroked his fingers over the scrollŹwork on one of the swing’s arms. She nodded into his shoulder. “Nice workmanship,” he complimented.

  “Thank you.” She had hunted for weeks for the right wood, and the ash had taken the stain beautifully.

  “Something like this would look nice in our yard back home.”

  “I, well, I’m sorry I didn’t come to Michigan then, but, the boys, Thomas, he had Little League coaching. James had joined the summer league through the high school.” She frowned. “I was here. And I…” She trailed off wondering how to put into words the unsettled anxieties she recalled suffering. “I needed a place back here to read,” she said softly. “It was stifling being inside all the time.” She looked into his face for a moment and then uncomfortably looked away, noticing that her rosemary patch seemed a little wilted, in need of attention.

  “Is that why you went camping?”

  “The camping trip was for charity. But I like it, yes.”

  “I’m not much of a camper.”

  “I know.”

  “But I would have come if you’d asked.”

  She swallowed. “I know.”

  The motion of the swing gradually pushed their bodies together, hip-to-hip. She steadied herself with a hand on his thigh and felt his arm drop lightly across her shoulders. His fingers swirled against the bare skin of her arm. She tried not to feel jumpy, but the fact remained, she was. When she angled her head to study his proŹfile, she found his eyes closed. “Kevin?”

  He turned to meet her gaze. “Yes?”

  “How are the girls?”

  “All right.”

  Brenna tried to calm her mind and think only of the moment, but the sounds around them distracted her too easily. She could hear the scuffling as James and Thomas quarreled over who would wash or dry. Thinking she should help, she started to stand.

  “Where are you going?”

  She turned, finding their gazes level, and sheepishly shook her head. “I was thinking of helping the boys inside.”

  “Don’t. They’ll be fine. I…” He straightened slowly, and she leaned back a bit, watching him. “Here.” He reached down and retrieved the wine bottle. “Help me finŹish this?”

  Brenna held the glasses while he poured the last of the alcohol into them. She handed him his and they s
at again in the swing. “This was a nice vintage with dinŹner,” she said, letting it remain on her tongue for a moment before swallowing.

  “Thanks.” The only sounds were crickets. She was taking a sip when he spoke again. “Do you intend to stay out here?”

  “With you, of course. I just said—”

  “No, I meant here in California. After the show is over.”

  “You want me to come to Mount Clemens.”

  “Yes.”

  She accepted the brush of his lips against hers, tasting the light wine flavor, but ended the kiss as he touched his tongue to her lips, tasting her.

  “Nice sunsets out here,” he said, caressing her shoulder as she concentrated on the red-orange western sky. “Guess it won’t be so tough for me to stay out here ‘til the end of the show.”

  “You shouldn’t. There’s things to do back in Michigan.”

  “I’d be willing.”

  “No. That’s not… Don’t do that.”

  “Bren, I feel I need to do something.”

  “Why?”

  “We should be together.”

  “It’s just another five months.” Brenna tried to shrug. He put light pressure on her shoulders to stop the motion.

  “What about after that? I know you don’t want to come to Mount Clemens, so, where do you want to go?”

  “I like Mount Clemens just fine. It’s just…it’s not…”

  “It’s not L.A.,” he supplied.

  His expression made her hold her tongue when she was inclined to denial. “I had an offer to join a theater company here,” she explained.

  “I guessed. I came out here so we could at least talk about it.” He sighed and sat back. “I feel like we’re drifting apart. I don’t want that to happen.”

  “Kevin, I…” Brenna bit her lower lip, unknowingly presenting a very endearing image. She was startled when Kevin groaned and grasped her hands.

  “There’s always regional theater, good stuff.”

  “I worked a long time to get where I am,” Brenna said. “It’s what I’ve wanted my whole life.”

  “A year ago you were ready to give it all up.”

  Brenna nodded. “Things change.”

  “Apparently, You haven’t written or called much in the last several months.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “I know. So have I.”

  They were silent. Brenna felt crowded, as though Kevin was too close or she was too small. She wanted to get up, to get some space. She braced her hands on the wood, careful not to touch him. She tensed the muscles in her arms to push.

  His voice broke the silence. “I still dream about you, Bren.”

  Her arms went slack. She blushed. “When the series is over…”

  “That’s a long time to wait.” He brushed his forefinger and thumb over her chin and lifted it, bringing their mouths together. “We could make up for it.” His breath caressed her lips. “I’ve missed you.”

  He pulled her back across his thighs, and wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling her hair as they watched the sun finish its descent. For a long time they just sat, and Kevin sipped his wine.

  Brenna could not bring herself to do anything. She was frozen between rising and running and just sitting there crying. She knew that Kevin deserved a wife. She had wanted that once, too, wanting nothing more than to leave L.A. and all its comŹpetitiveness — where she was never good enough, never pretty enough, never young enough — behind her. But now, when she closed her eyes and tried to envision a future with Kevin, she felt pain grip her heart and she fought against the tears. No, I can’t. She blinked, releasing two tears down her cheek.

  In her mind’s eye rose a memory of Cassidy’s smile, soft fingers lifting to her cheek, the whisper of breath against her face just before they kissed…

  “We haven’t done this since we first were dating.”

  Brenna jumped at the sound of his voice. “What?”

  “Just sit together, contemplating life, the universe and everything,” he mused. She stiffened as she felt his lips press against her temple. “About the show. You know, I am glad to know that you’re getting along at work again.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Well, her appearance startled you, but it was good to see you smiling with Ms. Hyland. You had such trouble with her at first. Her son certainly likes you.”

  Brenna’s breath caught at the image of Cassidy from that morning — her hair loose and blowing around her face in the breeze. She could only nod as her throat constricted with the memory of Ryan crawling into her lap and complimenting her hat. She had fallen easily into playing games with him.

  “It was time to make amends. She didn’t have any control over events,” she explained, unable to prevent the halting as she composed her reply.

  “How are things with the show itself?”

  “Fine, though it feels more like the end every day. The production team is already being split between us and a new show. The questions from reporters are all about ‘the end’.” She lifted her hands in the air and formed the quotation marks with a grimace. “It’s depressing.” She realized her melancholy showed when Kevin brushed his fingertips across her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry I brought it up.”

  Brenna remained silent, and he let her. The sounds around them seeped in slowly, and she realized the house behind them was quiet. “Did they kill each other?” she asked in a worried voice.

  “I doubt it,” he whispered back.

  The door to the house suddenly opened. At the sound Brenna turned with Kevin, spying one of the boys backlit in the doorway.

  “Mom! Are you coming inside?” Thomas’ voice reached them easily.

  Brenna looked up at Kevin and raised a questioning brow. He shrugged at her silent query. “If you’d rather…” he answered, leaving the option open-ended.

  “It’ll get cold fast now that the sun’s gone,” she reasoned.

  “I wouldn’t want a Popsicle in bed later.” He chuckled. “We’ll be there in a minute,” he called to Thomas. “Let’s go inside,” he said softly, turning back to her and pulling her against him with subtle desire.

  Brenna’s heart tripped against her ribcage as his hands caressed her throat, brushing over her breast and onto her hip where he tugged, lifting her briefly onto his lap for a hard kiss.

  On the pretext of becoming uncomfortably lightheaded, Brenna broke the kiss. “It’s not late enough to send the boys to bed.” Her voice was tremulous as she laid her palms against his chest. His eyes were searching hers, and she knew what he wanted. She was unsure she could give it to him.

  Arguing against the old proscription, he coaxed, “They’re old enough now. We can just go into your room…” His voice trailed off when he began nibbling her throat, humming against the skin the way he knew she liked.

  It didn’t bring a magic rush of desire, and she began to despair. However, his hands seemed to compel her. He’s my husband, Brenna fretted, but she couldn’t think very clearly. She felt like she was betraying someone, but could not decide if it was Kevin…or Cassidy. What she did know was that her heart was not in this.

  She closed her eyes, and Cassidy’s face floated easily into her mind: cool blue eyes filled with a warming fire, the dimple in her chin that begged to be touched. As Kevin continued kissing her, Brenna seized on the warm desire her imagination was causing and the heat it was sending to her loins. She drew in a long breath. “All right.” Shaky, Brenna found herself set on her feet. Kevin led the way back inside.

  “All done?” Cassidy sighed as Ryan spread his mashed potatoes and gravy around his plate rather than eating it. “Yeah, you’re done.”

  He looked up at her with half-closed eyes. The meal had been late; both of them had fallen asleep when they returned from the parade.

  She patted his back and urged him from the table. “We should pack some of this for the Talbots, don’t you think?” Cassidy looked at the leftovers and nodded.

  The goss
ipy neighbor, Mrs. Sandsmarsh, had been less than helpful, but agreed that Cassidy’s guess about the Talbots’ finances might be right. “Especially seeing as it is Thanksgiving and all,” suggested the older woman, a lifelong housewife who freŹquently hung her laundry while dressed in a bathrobe.

  While Ryan settled on the floor, marching his Transformers around, Cassidy gathered a collection of Tupperware and began scooping up the leftovers. Ten minŹutes later she closed the last container and found a plastic bag to carry them. “Come on.” She interrupted Ryan’s play and opened the front door. “Let’s go visit Gwen and Lou.”

  “And Chance!”

  “And Chance.” She coaxed him out the front door while he was still pushing his arms into his coat.

  The streetlights were already on as they crossed to the third home on the oppoŹsite side of the street. “Now promise you’ll be good. We won’t stay long.” Cassidy watched Ryan circling on the stoop as she waited for her rap on the door knocker to be answered. The door opened and Gwen looked out.

  “Cass?”

  “Hi, Gwen.” She lifted the bag. “1 brought some stuff over for you.”

  “What is this?”

  “Leftovers. I made too much for our meal tonight. I thought you might like to have it. We’ll never manage to eat it all before it spoils.”

  Gwen shifted the door wider. “Well, I… We don’t really need it ourselves.” She motioned Cassidy inside the entry. “Just a minute.”

  While waiting, Cassidy noticed the Talbot family was still at the table. Lou sat at the head of the table in view. Gwen went up to him and spoke quietly into his ear. The man shook his head. Gwen said something else. Lou’s gaze found Cassidy’s across the distance. She saw his jaw tighten and firm as his eyes narrowed, but he nodded at Gwen.

  Gwen returned, glancing at the bags. “There’s tons here. How is it you made so much? Didn’t you have guests?”

  “It was just Ryan and me tonight. I’m so used to Missouri spreads…” Cassidy shrugged.

  “You had no one over? What about…Cameron?”

  “No, we broke up.”

  “I didn’t know that.” She nudged Cassidy onto the front stoop, closing the door between them and the rest of the house. “Lou wanted me to talk to you. I don’t think it’s anything, but we wanted you to be aware that Ryan was telling us about your camping trip.” She smiled uneasily. “He mentioned your co-star, Lanigan, is it?”