by Gerri Hill
“I know. It’s just. . . you never seemed to hit it off with Nancy.”
Deb nodded in agreement. “I never liked her much, you’re right. I didn’t think she was right for you.”
Jo forced a smile to her face and took the wine from Deb.
“Well, that ended up being true.” She turned toward the kitchen. “But I’d rather not talk about Nancy,” she called over her shoulder. “Go out to the deck. I’ll bring the wine.”
Jo leaned against the counter and rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying to ward off a fast-approaching headache.
She had no desire to talk about Nancy, but was afraid Deb would bring up Kelly. She certainly did not want to face questions about her.
Pushing off the counter, she grabbed two glasses, determined to enjoy Deb’s company. They had been close at one time and Jo could use a friend that was single, too. She sometimes felt like a third wheel when she hung out with Betsy and Janis, although not because of anything they said or did. But still, it would be nice to have a single friend to go out with occasionally.
“Your backyard has grown up,” Deb observed.
Jo handed her a glass of wine and sat down, leaning her elbows on the patio table. “I know. I’ve got to stop planting things. Pretty soon, I won’t be able to see Bull Creek.”
“Oh, no. I like it. It gives you more privacy. But if I recall, you never had much of a green thumb,” Deb laughed, pointing at her potted plants, which were in dire need of water.
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“I know. It’s all I can do to keep the ones in the house alive. I’m always amazed when things out here survive,” she said, motioning to her yard. The lot had been wooded when she bought it. Over the years she had added native shrubs and plants to give her more privacy from her neighbors. She was most proud of the stone walkway she and Harry had built years ago. She followed the path with her eyes as it twisted down to Bull Creek.
“Do you still swim?”
Jo smiled. “Well, I float in the inner tube. It’s kinda hard to swim in only four feet of water.”
“I guess you still go out to Harry’s?”
“Every Sunday for sure. But I don’t teach in the summer anymore, so I go a couple of times a week. I’ve been getting him to pull me in the boat.”
“Well, if you wouldn’t mind company some Sunday, I’d love to go skiing again.”
“Sure,” Jo agreed, although she doubted she would invite Deb on a Sunday. Sundays had become a ritual for her and Harry. She didn’t want to spoil it by bringing an outsider.
They sat in silence, watching the antics of a squirrel as it tried to invade the bird feeder. For once, she had remembered to fill it.
Jo was aware of the uncomfortable lag in their conversation, but she couldn’t determine the cause of it. They hadn’t been around each other in years and perhaps it had been wishful thinking on her part to believe they could just fall into old habits. People change and she supposed they had, too.
“I’ll get more wine,” Deb offered, intruding on her thoughts.
Jo watched the blue jays dive at the squirrel. She wished she hadn’t invited Deb to the house. Maybe they should have 47
gone out to eat. They would have had more distractions, something other than a squirrel to stimulate the conversation.
“Are you dating anyone, Jo?”
Surprised, Jo glanced at Deb, silently watching as she refilled her glass. “No. Not since Nancy left,” she said. And it was true. Her one night. . . affair. . . with Kelly could hardly have been called a date.
“I thought so, but when we never saw you around, I assumed you were seeing someone.”
“No.”
“I was a little worried about you the other night,” Deb commented.
“The other night?”
“At the bar. You left with that. . . with Kelly Sambino.”
Jo felt herself blushing. “I just gave her a ride to her hotel,” she lied.
“Well, you should be thankful she didn’t try anything.
I hear she’s quite the stud in San Antonio.”
“Stud?”
“You know what I mean. Lots of parties, lots of different women hanging on her arm. Christy said she dates several at one time, keeping them all in the dark about the others.”
“Really?” Jo wondered why Deb felt the need to tell her all this. Frankly, she could not care less about Kelly Sambino!
“Yeah. I didn’t really like her that much,” Deb said.
“I thought she got on fine with the team.” Jo was surprised that she felt the need to defend Kelly.
“Oh, she can play ball, all right. But, you know, her attitude was so... California. She was just so conceited.”
Jo held her tongue. If there was one thing she had learned about Kelly, it was that she was not the least bit conceited. But Jo said nothing, forcing what she hoped was a smile onto her face.
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“And you know that woman that showed up for the Sunday game?” Deb continued. “That wasn’t even her current girlfriend, according to Christy. Sambino had been dating someone from their softball team.”
Jo rubbed her eyes quickly, wishing Deb would lose interest in this subject and go on to something else. She did not want to discuss Kelly with Deb or hear all these things about her. It was what she had suspected, of course, but it only made her. . . affair. . . with Kelly that much worse. She pinched the bridge of her nose again, her headache having settled behind her eyes.
“I really can’t stand women like that,” Deb continued.
“Well, I really don’t know her,” Jo said. “And I doubt I’ll ever see her again.”
“Count yourself lucky that she didn’t try anything,” Deb repeated. “She apparently has something women like, although I just can’t see it.”
Are you blind? Jo thought. Deb’s remarks didn’t fool her.
Deb was simply jealous and Jo wondered why this had not occurred to her earlier. Deb had been single most of the time Jo had known her. She was shorter than Jo, a little heavier, too, but Jo thought she was cute. Not drop-dead gorgeous like... well, like some women, but she was still cute. Jo remembered that Deb had rarely dated, though. Deb would never stir the kind of passion that Kelly apparently invoked in... some women.
“Well, she didn’t try anything. Maybe I just don’t have what she likes.” Jo gave a nervous laugh. It would be a miracle if she made it through the evening.
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Chapter Six
June turned into July, and Johanna cursed the heat as she sat on her black inner tube in Bull Creek. It was nearly four o'clock The temperature, which had topped out at 102, had now dropped to a sultry 99. Paddling into the shade, she splashed cold water on her shoulders, now tanned a golden brown from her weeks in the sun. She was spending many afternoons with Harry, fishing the lake and cooking fresh catfish and bass for their dinners. She had even joined Betsy and Janis for dinner on a couple of occasions, though she refused to discuss that sordid weekend in June. Betsy had asked only once, and Johanna had lied and said that nothing had happened. Betsy left it at that, even though they both knew she was lying. She had not accepted Deb’s second 50
invitation to dinner. The first had been too stressful and she was afraid Deb would bring up Kelly’s name again. Kelly had called her only once and thankfully, the answering machine was the only one who heard the whole message. Once she heard Kelly’s voice, Jo had deleted the message without even listening to it.
Now, with July coming to an end and August just around the corner, Jo was thinking ahead to the upcoming semester.
Soon she would be busy planning her classes, attending faculty meetings, and living her life as scheduled.
She didn't allow herself to think about Kelly Sambino, even during the lonely, hot nights of summer, when she swore she could still smell Kelly in her bedroom. The trick was staying busy. She went to Hippie Hollow, the only nude section of Lake Travis, and swam naked in the clear waters.
She made a trip
every morning to Zilker Park and swam laps in the cold, cold waters of Barton Springs. In addition to their afternoons and Sunday brunches, she had dinner once a week with Harry and sometimes he drove the boat while she skied. She stayed busy. She didn't think about Kelly Sambino. She didn't think about the wonderful night they had shared, making love until dawn.
"Right," she said aloud. Who was she kidding? Did a day go by that she didn't remember Kelly’s kisses? Laying her head back on the tube, she closed her eyes to the sun, remembering every detail of that night. She felt herself go warm all over again and knew it had nothing to do with the July heat. She tipped herself out of the tube and submerged in Bull Creek, laying on the limestone bottom as the cold water rushed over her, cooling her senses.
Soon, the neighbor’s dog started barking, welcoming them home, and she cursed her lack of solitude. The kids would be splashing in the water soon. Oh, she was getting 51
cranky, she thought. Thirty-six and already a grouchy old woman!
Later, one evening in early August, Susan, the dean of the English department and a good friend, called her.
"Arnie wants to do steaks on Saturday. Come over. Plus, I want you to meet someone. We've hired a novelist for the semester to teach the creative writing class."
"That's great," she enthused. "Of course I'll come.”
Jo knew that the department had wanted to get a published author for this class. Last semester, they had to settle for a graduate student, as the university had snatched their lone candidate from beneath their noses.
She was somewhat relieved at Susan's call. It meant that the fall semester would soon be starting, and she could get on with her familiar, routine life and leave the awful confusion of the summer behind her.
On Saturday, she ironed her shorts while standing in the spare bedroom wearing nothing but her underwear. It was hot and humid outside, and she had the air conditioning turned down to 70. She wasn't sure how many more weeks she could take of the heat. Laughing to herself, she wondered how many years now had she been saying this same thing?
She tucked a white T-shirt in her shorts, slipped on her sandals and drove to Susan and Arnie's house, only ten minutes away. They had been friends for years and when Susan was appointed dean four years ago, it had done nothing to alter their friendship. She treated Jo as an equal, at college and away. Jo frequently joined them for dinner during the school year.
She pulled into their drive, parking beside a Ford Explorer, which she assumed belong to the novelist they had hired. She wondered what he would be like. Austin City 52
College wasn't small, but it couldn't compare to the University of Texas, where most of the teaching talent went.
She rang the doorbell, then let herself in. She heard the faint sound of voices in the front hall. Making her way through the familiar living room to the sliding door, she stopped abruptly when she saw Kelly.
"Oh, God," she whispered. "No, no! It can't be.”
The woman she thought she would never see again, the woman she had hoped she would never see again, the woman she couldn’t stop thinking about, was but a few feet away.
Kelly Sambino stood beside Susan, a beer held casually in her hand as she listened intently to Susan’s story. Johanna's eyes traveled up her long, tan legs, slim waist, past her full breasts, to her face, and the memory of their night together came crashing through like a wave racing to shore, hitting her full force, as if it had only been yesterday that they had been so intimate with each other.
"Oh, God," she said again, suddenly feeling a little sick.
Arnie was sticking a match to the charcoal and, as flames erupted, he stepped back. Jo stood in the living room, indecisive. She had half a mind to flee, and if Susan hadn't looked her way at that moment, she might have done just that.
"Jo, you're here. Come on out," she beckoned. Johanna bravely walked the few feet to the door, and despite her better judgment, slid it open.
"Hi," she said, looking first to Arnie, then Susan, then finally resting her eyes on the very dark ones of Kelly Sambino. Oh, God, she thought, I can't do this.
"I want you to meet Kelly Sambino. We're lucky to have her," she said, and Jo walked towards them.
"Hello," Kelly said and stuck out her hand.
"Hello," she answered and took that hand, her heart pounding in her chest.
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"Stole her from St. Peter's in San Antonio," Susan said.
"Really?" Jo was surprised by the steadiness of her own voice.
Kelly released her hand slowly, and Jo quickly shoved hers in her pockets, trembling.
"Oh, yes. She's going to be a great addition to our staff,"
Susan went on, and Jo couldn't drag her eyes away. What is happening here?
"Get yourself a beer, honey," Susan told her.
"Yes, I think I better," Jo muttered, ignoring the amused look Kelly gave her.
"How're you doing, Arnie?" she asked, as she walked to the large, red cooler and dug a beer out from beneath the ice.
"Great. You?"
Jo paused for a moment, then lied. "I'm doing good."
Arnie moved closer to her and asked in a low voice, "So, what do you think of the novelist?"
"I think we're lucky to have her," Jo said, repeating Susan's words.
"Yeah," he agreed, and they both looked at Kelly Sambino as she listened to Susan, who was rambling on as usual. Arnie had once said that Susan could talk to a tree and Jo knew this to be true.
She stood directly under the ceiling fan, feeling the breeze hit her face. It wasn’t cool by any stretch of the imagination but still, it was a breeze. Arnie had converted the covered patio into a garden and nearly every available space had been filled with potted plants and flowers. Jo had always envied Arnie his green thumb.
“How do you keep these things alive in this heat?” she demanded.
He laughed. “Watering helps, Jo. I doubt the five plants on your deck have seen much of it.”
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“I’m down to three, and I watered them at least two weeks ago.”
“Well, if I didn’t think you’d kill them. . . I’ve got some cuttings just getting started.” Then he gave her shoulder a friendly squeeze. “Maybe I’ll put something together for you.”
How he found the time, Jo didn’t know. He worked at one of the busiest accounting firms in Austin. During tax season, Susan rarely saw him.
Jo watched him walk away, shaking her head at his version of casual dress; starched shirt and slacks. But then, he was the stereotypical accountant. Short, pleasantly round, and balding. And he never left the house without a tie!
She glanced to where Susan and Kelly still stood. Their contrast was striking. Kelly was tall, young, fit. Susan was short, entrenched in middle age, her dislike of exercise evident. Kelly was even darker than Jo remembered. Susan rarely went out into the sun unprotected and her pallor appeared almost unhealthy compared to Kelly’s tan. Susan’s blonde curls seemed to glow next to Kelly’s dark hair.
Jo noted that Kelly's hair was longer than she remembered but then again, so was her own. Her eyes took in other details: the small, gold chain around Kelly’s neck, the diamond earrings, the lone ring on her right hand, the slender, gold watch on her left wrist. Jo stared at Kelly’s hands for a long moment, remembering all that those hands had done to her, then made herself look away, flushed. She tipped her beer and took a long swallow, again thankful for the ceiling fan. The light breeze cooled her hot cheeks. Oh, God, how can this be happening? Why me? She brought her eyes back to the woman standing across from her and met an impudent smile. Damn her!
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Susan brought Kelly over to Johanna and smiled, too.
"You two get acquainted. I've got to start the salad.” She left them, and Jo stood quietly, refusing to meet Kelly’s eyes.
"So, how have you been?" Kelly began.
Johanna turned on her quickly. "What the hell are you doing here?" she asked quietly.
"I'm going to te
ach the creative writing class.” She lowered her
voice. “You’re lucky to have me,” she said, grinning.
Jo nearly let a smile slip out, then remembered her anger in time. "Why here? At my school?" she demanded, looking over her shoulder at Arnie.
"Hey, don't flatter yourself. I don't make it a habit to change careers based on one-night stands.” She gave Jo a mocking smile. "Especially ones that are such big mistakes."
"How would I know? You probably pick women up at the bar all the time," Jo hissed.
"As do you," she shot back.
"How dare you? I told you, I have never done anything like that before."
"And you want me to believe you?"
"It's the truth," she whispered. It was very important to Johanna that Kelly know how out of character that night was for her. She wanted Kelly to take all the blame, she realized.
"How do you know it's not the truth when I say the same thing?" Kelly asked.
"You're the one with the reputation, not me. You're the one who's involved . . ."
"Sherry and I are not involved!" Kelly insisted.
Jo met her eyes head on and did not flinch. "Listen, I don't want to talk about it."
"Fine."
"Good."
"Okay then.”
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"What? Do you have to get the last word in?" Jo asked.
"Yes!"
Damn her!
But Kelly smiled. “You know, when you get all riled up like this, you’re kinda cute and your accent is really pro-nounced.”
Jo bristled. “I don’t have an accent.”
“Sure you do.”
“I do not.”
“A Texas drawl,” Kelly continued. Then she raised her eyebrows teasingly. “I think it’s very sexy.”
Kelly turned away before Jo could protest, and Jo silently fumed at her retreating back.
During dinner, Arnie asked Kelly where she grew up, and Jo found herself listening with interest, though she refused to look up.
"California. San Francisco.”
"Really? How long have you in been in Texas?"
"Just two years this summer," she said, not seeming to mind the questions.