“But…”
“But what?” Hillary kissed her lips again sweetly just as a few tears fell. “Does your dad know?”
“I don’t think so,” she replied. “I didn’t tell him the whole story. He didn’t seem to know.”
“Are you going to tell him?”
“No.” She pulled back a little. “I won’t hurt him any more than he already is. He’s been dealing with the guilt of her death for the better part of his life, and it wasn’t even his fault.”
“I thought–”
“He wasn’t driving that night; my mom was,” Amara interrupted. “The other Amara was there that night with her wife. I guess they somehow ended up running in the same circles. My mom got upset. She took the keys from my dad. She was the one driving drunk, running a red light.”
“She fought with the other Amara?”
“I don’t know that ‘fought with’ is the right way to put it, but she got upset. I think it was because Amara was there with her wife.”
“So, your mom was jealous or something?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“What did the other Amara say when you asked her?”
“I didn’t,” she told Hillary and squinted down at her. “I was a little too focused on the fact that my dad has been covering for my mom since the accident.”
“That makes sense.” Hillary ran her hand up and down Amara’s back.
“I’m meeting her Tuesday night.”
“You’re seeing her again?”
“Can you come with me?” Amara asked with what she knew were hopeful eyes. “I can go alone, but I think I’d feel better if you were there with me.”
“Of course.” Hillary smiled up at her. “Of course, I’ll come with you.”
Amara nodded, leaned down, kissed her girlfriend gently, and asked, “Can I stay here tonight?”
Hillary smiled up at her again, wider this time.
“You can stay here whenever you want.”
“Did I ruin dinner?”
“Possibly.” Hillary laughed as she sat up. “I’ll check. Why don’t you wait here? I can bring everything in. We can do a dinner in bed kind of thing.”
Hillary stood, slid on her underwear and her t-shirt, and without waiting for an answer, made her way out toward the kitchen. Amara sat up in the bed. She still had no clothes on, but she wasn’t rushing to cover her skin. She felt freer now. She’d taken what she’d wanted. She’d confessed her true feelings to the woman she loved. She’d told Hillary the truth about what had been bothering her. Now, all she needed was the truth about her mother’s true feelings toward her father and a better understanding of what had happened that night between her mother and the woman she’d once loved.
CHAPTER 29
Hillary woke on Monday with Amara at her side. She rolled over to face her. Amara’s head was turned toward her. The woman was still sound asleep and looked adorable. Hillary smiled at her, kissed her forehead gently so as not to wake her, and made her way toward the bathroom for her morning shower. She’d always been a morning shower person, taking night showers only when necessary. She found the water helped wake her up. Normally, on Mondays, she’d go to the gym first and shower there once she’d finished her workout, but she hadn’t been going as often as she had been since Amara.
That made sense to her, though. Their relationship was still so new. If she could, she’d spend every moment she had with Amara. They would go out some nights just the two of them, spend one or two nights each week with their friends, and the rest, they’d spend alone at Hillary’s place. They’d share meals, conversation, and make love. She’d learn more about the ever-interesting woman she’d fallen in love with, and she’d share more of herself with Amara.
By the time she finished her shower, it was almost time for Amara to wake up and get ready for work. Hillary watched her girlfriend sleep a moment more, checked the alarm clock on her phone to make sure it was on, and made her way into the kitchen, where she started coffee for both of them. She heard the annoying buzzing sound only a few minutes later. Amara must have turned it off quickly, because it only lasted a second or two. Hillary poured them two cups of coffee, reached for the nonfat yogurt and granola bar she ate for breakfast most mornings, and added a second of each to a tray.
“You’re amazing,” Amara commented as she sat up in bed.
Amara had donned one of Hillary’s pajama tops last night but had only buttoned it up about halfway. Hillary had a nice view of the pale skin between Amara’s breasts. She smirked at her, placed the tray down on the bed, and leaned over to kiss her girlfriend softly on the lips.
“Have breakfast before you go,” she requested.
“I shouldn’t. I’m supposed to be there in an hour. I still need to shower.”
“Shower first,” Hillary kissed Amara and continued, “Drink coffee while you get ready.” She kissed the woman again. “And, take the granola bar and yogurt with you.”
“Hey, I was thinking,” Amara said. “Is there a meeting we could go to tonight?”
“Al-Anon?” Hillary questioned.
“You said you wanted me to go with you.”
“It doesn’t have to be tonight, though.”
“Everything’s been about me since we started, Hill. It’s been about my struggle to come to grips with who I am, my issues at home, and now finding out about my mom. I don’t want us to lose you in this.” She took Hillary’s hand. “We don’t have to go tonight, but I would like to go with you.”
“I can find a meeting tonight.”
“Yeah?”
“Have you ever been to an Al-Anon meeting, though? I mean, I might not actually share. You don’t have to say anything there; you can just go for support. That’s what I’ve been doing for a while anyway.”
“That’s fine. I just want you to know that I’m there and I support you.”
“I do know that. Thank you, though.” Hillary kissed her.
She stood and made her way around to her side of the bed, where she placed her coffee on her table. Amara stood and stretched. Hillary tried not to look at her, because the woman had only put on the pajama top last night: she was naked underneath. With that stretch, Hillary could see just about everything. She didn’t have time to do anything about it, though. She growled internally as Amara pulled off the shirt, tossed it on the bed, and went into the bathroom for her own shower. Hillary took three steps toward the bathroom, stopped, took one step back, then four steps forward, and another back. She grunted low enough so that Amara couldn’t hear her and turned back toward her coffee.
“Your hair’s still wet. Want to join me?” Amara’s voice came from just inside the bathroom.
Hillary knew she’d waited to blow-dry her hair for a reason.
◆◆◆
Hillary wrapped her last class of the day, went back to her office, and searched for the location of an Al-Anon meeting close to where they’d decided to go to dinner that night. She’d realized, when she’d asked Amara to come with her, that she did need a meeting. She also realized that morning that she needed one soon. It was strange to someone else, probably. Alcoholics needed meetings to keep from drinking; that made sense to most people. People who loved alcoholics, though, didn’t need the support to keep from drinking. They needed the support to forgive those people for the things they’d said and done to them, or to rebuild their self-esteem. Hillary needed both of those things. There was something about finally finding Amara, finally getting healthy and being fulfilled in her life that had her in need of a meeting. It had always been a place where she could check in, just listen most of the time, and keep herself on the right path.
She found a meeting that was a few blocks away from the restaurant. It started at 5:30 p.m. It would be perfect. She texted Amara the update, told her she’d meet her there around 5:15, and got back to work on grading tests. Several moments later, there was a knock at her door. Her students normally stuck to her office hours, but, sometimes, there was one just
passing by that had a question.
“Come in,” she said.
“Hi, Hill.”
The voice was one she hadn’t heard in years. It was also one that still managed to excite her and scare her at the same time. Her eyes went wide as she stared at the paper. Her breathing turned rapid. Her hands grew clammy. She gulped tightly before looking up to see Caroline Weaver standing in her doorway.
“Care?” she managed through near trembling lips.
“Same office, huh?” Caroline questioned.
The woman’s long dark hair was up and pinned neatly at the sides. Her eyes were a deep brown that Hillary used to just fall into when they made love. Her cheekbones were high and strong like her jaw, but her nose was soft and perfectly proportioned to her beautiful face. Hillary had wondered, when they’d first met, what Caroline had possibly seen in her. She’d seemed so far out of Hillary’s league. Their relationship had been perfect in the beginning. They’d been different people who had very little in common but had been willing to partake in hobbies and events for the other person. That was until Caroline’s drinking had gotten heavy. Then, everything changed.
“Caroline, what are you doing here?” she asked.
“I’m back,” she stated with an unconfident shrug of her shoulders.
“You’re back? What does that mean? Why are you here, Care?” Hillary asked, tossing her red pen on the desk.
“Are you done for the day? Can we talk?” She moved inside the office.
“Talk about what? I haven’t seen you or talked to you since–”
“I know. I know,” the woman interrupted. “Please. Coffee?”
“Caroline, I’m working,” Hillary replied. “I have tests to grade. I have papers to review.”
“Later, then? I can do later. Tonight?” she asked in a rush of words. “Dinner even? I don’t have any plans.”
“I can’t do dinner, Care.”
Caroline smiled at her. The smile itself Hillary couldn’t read, but Caroline’s eyes had softened, too. She recognized that look.
“I always liked when you called me that.”
“It’s your nickname,” Hillary reminded.
“That I only let you call me.” Her smile dimmed, but not by much. “You look good, Hill.”
“I cannot do dinner, Caroline.”
“Coffee is fine. I can meet you anywhere, or we can walk to that place on campus. Is it still there?”
“Yes,” Hillary answered the last question without thinking.
“Yes?” Caroline’s eyes were hopeful now. “In, like, an hour? Do you need longer?”
“I meant that the place is still there, not that I’d have coffee with you.”
Hillary’s text message notification rang out before Caroline could reply. Her eyes lowered to see a heart from Amara along with a message confirming she’d be there tonight. Hillary couldn’t help but smile a little.
“Hillary, please.”
“You’re going to just keep asking until I agree, aren’t you?” Hillary tossed back as she met Caroline’s eyes.
“You know me well.” The woman smiled back. “I’m determined to talk to you.”
“I don’t know you at all anymore, Caroline.”
They agreed to meet at the coffee shop, which was more a coffee cart with a few tables, housed in the nursing building on campus. They’d gone there several times over the course of their relationship, or at least at the beginning of it. Once Caroline changed, she rarely found time to spend with Hillary on campus, stopped going to any of the faculty events Hillary was all but required to attend, and lacked any interest in Hillary’s work altogether.
Hillary dawdled in her office, making herself intentionally late. She knew it was childish, but she didn’t care. When she finally trudged over to the coffee cart, she noticed Caroline was already there. The woman had two cups of coffee in front of her on the table. The most interesting thing about her, though, was that she wasn’t doing anything. Her laptop bag, that looked brand new, was resting next to her on the floor. Hillary had no doubt that her computer was in there, along with any documents she needed to work on. The woman’s phone was sitting on the table, and from where Hillary was standing, it appeared to be face down. Caroline was staring at a group of laughing students at another table. She wasn’t working, texting, talking on the phone or otherwise engaged in any other activity. Hillary had been right: she didn’t know Caroline at all anymore.
CHAPTER 30
Amara stared at her computer. She had been remarkably unproductive the entire day at work. Her father had been out of the office for most of the day. Mark had been in his office most of the day. He’d offered to take her to lunch earlier, but she’d declined. He’d understood, but she wondered if things would ever be normal between them again or if she was destined to sit awkwardly outside her ex-boyfriend’s office for the rest of her life while he occasionally invited her to lunch or for coffee.
She pulled up the course catalog for school. She’d been meaning to schedule her classes for next semester but hadn’t gotten around to picking out the two classes she’d take. She searched for business classes out of habit and scrolled down the list of offerings, growing more bored by the minute. She sighed, changed her search criteria, and smiled at the list of sociology classes in front of her.
She narrowed her list of options down to ten classes. After that, she had to check some off the list that she really wanted to take but that were impossible to attend due to her work schedule or the fact that they were only held during the same time as another class she wanted to take more. A few, she noted, she was ineligible to take because she didn’t have the proper pre-requisites. She jotted those down in case she wanted to take them later. She hadn’t been this excited about a new semester since she started going to school years ago.
Amara planned on talking to Hillary about the four classes she’d chosen. She could only take two and still work full-time at the church for her father. She was hoping Hillary would be able to give her some inside information on which classes to take. She also wanted to talk to her about changing her major. She wasn’t sure she wanted sociology specifically, but she knew she no longer wanted anything to do with business. Her father paid her tuition, though, just as he paid her salary. That had never bothered her before. But, for some reason, as she stared at a group of happy students on a lawn wearing their school sweatshirts on the school’s homepage, Amara realized how much she’d missed out on by taking this path. She didn’t want to miss out on anything else.
◆◆◆
“Caroline?”
“Hey, hey,” the woman repeated herself. “I got you your usual: caramel macchiato.” She pushed the cup toward the other side of the café-style table and, again, sounded nervous.
“I don’t drink those anymore,” Hillary informed. She sat across from the other woman and placed her bag at her feet. “I haven’t for a while; too much sugar.”
“Oh.” Caroline looked embarrassed for a moment. “I’ll get you something else. What’s your new usual?”
“I’m okay,” Hillary answered.
“Right.” Caroline nodded as if there was a reason to. “How are you?”
“Caroline, I have a meeting later. Can you just tell me what you’re here for? I don’t still have anything that belongs to you. I’ve moved to a new place. I either sent it to you or gave it away.”
“No, that’s not–” The woman gripped her coffee cup with both hands. “Let me start at the beginning. Is that okay?”
“Depends on how long the story is, I guess.”
“You’re different now, aren’t you?” Caroline smiled at her. “More confident. You never used to talk like this before.”
“Caroline, please,” she replied in exasperation.
“I get it.” Caroline lost the smile. “I like it, for what it’s worth.” She looked at the group of students again before her eyes met Hillary’s. “I just moved back to San Francisco.”
“You moved back?”
/>
“I did,” she answered. “I’ve been back for about a month now.”
“You left London?”
“I should back up; that’s not really the beginning. I think I’m just nervous.”
“When have you ever been nervous?” Hillary asked.
“The day I first met you; the night we first made love; also, when I proposed to you; when I had to meet your parents for the first time; and about an hour ago, when I first saw you again.” She gave a half smile. “Hillary, when I left for London, things weren’t good between us. I blamed you for that. I was horrible to you. I still can’t believe that was me: I loved you but treated you like that.”
“Caroline, I really don’t want to talk about this.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” The woman went to place her hand on the table but moved it back quickly. “When I left for London, I was in bad shape. I just didn’t know it yet. I didn’t listen to you. I wasn’t willing to listen to you. I met someone over there.”
“I heard that,” Hillary replied.
“We started dating a little after I arrived. Things were okay, at first, but I started working more and more to get ahead. She got upset that I wasn’t ever around. It reminded me a lot of some of our fights.”
“Caroline, why are you telling me this?”
“I stopped drinking, Hill,” she said. “I haven’t had alcohol in over a year. Three hundred and eighty-four days, to be exact.” She pulled something from her pocket and placed it on the table.
“An AA chip?”
“My one-year chip,” the woman replied.
“So, you’re in the program. Is this you making amends?” Hillary asked.
“Hill, this is me apologizing to you for being a horrible person because of a problem I didn’t want to face. I’m not doing this because it’s a step; I’m doing it because it’s the right thing, and it’s how I feel.”
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