Autumn Leaves (15 page)

“It’s my ex,” Callie finally said. “She’s bad news.”

Callie could tell that Rebecca had one of those moments where she was overwhelmed by everything she did not know about relationships other than her own. “I don’t know how to say this and not make myself look stupid. For months, I’ve been telling myself I should have known. She was all nice on the outside. Attentive. Obsessively jealous is more like it, but I didn’t get it until later.”

“Did she hurt you?” Rebecca’s voice was calm, but there was something else in it that made Callie feel all warm and cherished. She needed that feeling badly, fighting the chill that gripped her whenever the subject of Nicole came up.

“Depends on what you’re asking about exactly.” This was so screwed up. Callie had imagined them picking up where they’d left off the last time. Making sweet love in the late afternoon instead of exposing every reason why Callie was bad relationship material. This was why she tended to hide in the realm of fiction. It was where she felt confident, where no one and nothing could hurt her.

“Nicole hit me once. I moved out after that, and never saw her again. She tried to contact me though.” She was not going to cry. She had promised herself that much. Nicole had messed with her life once. She wouldn’t let her again.

Rebecca stood up and slowly walked around the table so that she stood behind Callie. Her hands came down on Callie’s shoulders, fingers softly brushing over her bare arms. Callie wished that she could see, feel anything erotic in this. The truth was, she badly needed someone to touch her like this, like she was made from glass that could break any moment. She’d spent too long telling herself that she was all healed and strong. Right. Fantasizing about a married woman was so much more mature. She felt the warm wetness of inevitable tears on her face, hating it, hating herself for it.
“Stop bawling,”
Nicole would have said
. “It makes you ugly.”

Rebecca continued the soft, slow caress. “Is she likely to come here?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, if she sets a foot in here, I meant to tell you that we’ve got a gun in the basement.”

“You’ve got a…” Callie was, if only for a moment, jolted out of her misery. “Of course you do.”

“Yeah, like every small town gun-wielding bigot, you mean?” Rebecca said it with no scorn, just a hint of resignation. “It belonged to David’s grandpa. We’ve been meaning to get rid of it for as long as we’ve had the house.”

Callie craned her neck to look at Rebecca as she asked, “You know how to handle it?”

Rebecca leaned close, whispering, “You bet,” understanding that this was a distraction Callie needed badly. She was not so oblivious anymore after all, Callie could tell from the little smirk on her face.

“I’m sorry,” she sighed, aware of her heart beating faster. “You have enough stuff of your own to deal with. I shouldn’t have told you.”

“It’s fine.” Rebecca sat back down. Callie shivered from the loss of warmth. “Actually I’m glad not to be thinking about my stuff for a little while. If you want, I can give Craig a call too.”

“No thanks. I’m not sure I want to find out how the Autumn Leaves police handle a lesbian domestic disturbance call.”

“Not everybody here is your enemy, Callie.”

Technically, she knew that. In reality, some stereotypes were too comfortable not to hold on to them, for both of them. Rebecca took another sip of her coffee, grimacing when it had obviously grown cold.

“It’s just...I hope you’re not going to be mad at me for asking.”

Callie shrugged. “Go ahead. I can’t know unless you ask.”

“All this trouble you went to, is it really worth it? That Nicole, you couldn’t even hold her responsible for what she’s done? I don’t understand. I try, but I just don’t understand.” Her frustration was honest, if irrational. Callie had never thought that people would even question these things. Trying to find answers was walking a fine line, especially with Rebecca. Especially now. It didn’t seem like she had a choice.

“You’ve known there are men out there who are abusers, but you still wanted to be with a man, get married. There’s not much of a difference. I suppose there are good people and psychopaths everywhere.”

“What is it? What makes you go there when you know you’re going to have people throw stones at you, literally and otherwise, and you’re still putting yourself out there?”

“I believe you know,” Callie said. “You aren’t blaming me.”

“For what should I blame you?” There were few people who didn’t feel threatening to Callie when getting irritated, just the opposite. Rebecca definitely was one of them.

“For kissing me and liking it. For wanting more than that.”

Rebecca looked at her, startled. The seconds ticked by until Callie was sure she’d made a huge mistake, but then Rebecca said, “You’re right. I want...you. What kind of person does that make me?” Her voice was barely above a whisper when she added, “What kind of mother?”

“Rebecca, don’t.” On the table, Callie reached for Rebecca’s hands. “You’re a wonderful mother. You’ve got awesome kids, and they didn’t turn out that way all by themselves.”

“Except that Dina couldn’t tell me her friend needed a pregnancy test. Where was I? I know, and it’s not your fault. It’s mine.”

“Maybe David was right, and you should deal with that once they’re back home. There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re human.”

“Damn it,” Rebecca said. Her eyes were bright, but she didn’t pull away her hands. “Now I have to give back my Super Mom cape.”

“Look.” Callie squeezed the fingers enclosed in hers gently. “I think we’ve moved way past the stage where I should have told you I’m not available for experiments. Stay with me for a few days, get your work done, and whatever else happens, it’s going to be all right. I’m with you.”

Rebecca studied her, maybe gauging if Callie was telling the truth, if she was worth coming out of the comfort zone. Shattering the walls of the comfort zone, actually.

“I’ll have to go get a few things, and feed Pebbles.”

“Who’s Pebbles?” Callie asked, the non sequitur so jarring it made them both crack up.

The sound of shared laughter was promising.

There was only so much talking they could do without revolving in circles. They walked together across the street in silence. If the universe was trying to tell them something, the answer was that they didn’t care. All of Pebbles’ needs were taken care of, fresh water, food, and hay. Rebecca put the cage back into Maggie’s room, and Callie got a fleeting glance of lots of pink, and lots of books. Maggie, the tidy one, didn’t yet cause Rebecca sleepless nights.

Callie had looked deep inside herself, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel guilty anymore, for feeling too much, for diverting Rebecca’s attention from where it possibly should be. It wasn’t in her power to make Rebecca love her family any less.

Rebecca washed her hands and then went upstairs to pack an overnight bag. “Should we go to the store quickly to get something for dinner?” she wondered out loud.

Callie, greedy, helpless, had followed her into the room. She was taking in the spotless painted white wood of the huge closet, the bookshelf on one wall, the mirror...Seeing her own mirror image, she did a double-take. “
Crying does not become you
.” Nicole might be a bitch, but she had had a point there. Self-consciously, she tore her gaze away from the mirror only to have it fall on the piece of furniture that took up most of the room. Self-conscious didn’t even start to describe it as she stared at the freshly made bed, light blue sheets and a white comforter. Callie was trying hard to keep her imagination from going wild. It presented a symbol. A challenge.

“Did you even hear what I said?” Rebecca turned to her, seeming mildly amused by Callie’s absentmindedness.

Challenge.
Callie couldn’t deny that this raging desire wasn’t just a product of Rebecca being a good friend, being somebody she could talk to even though they had their misunderstandings. There was Rebecca’s promise to protect her, if necessary, with gunfire. It was about all that too. It was about this troubled woman being absolutely gorgeous. If that was shallow, Callie would gladly take the blame.

She stepped forward, kissing Rebecca like she’d wanted to from nearly the first time they’d met. Behind them, a hanger clattered to the floor as Rebecca sank her hands into Callie’s hair, kissing her back just like that. Wanting her back. For a moment, Callie entertained the fantasy of the two of them giving in to the inevitable, passionate, mind-blowing sex right here in the room Rebecca shared with her husband, in their bed. There was no doubt whatsoever that it would be mind-blowing, from the way she was already shaking all over. Her hands were trembling over buttons and the promise of warm skin.

“Callie. Don’t. Please.” Callie shivered from the undisguised lust in Rebecca’s voice. If she had to wait much longer to do anything about it, she might spontaneously combust.

“Not here,” Rebecca said. Tormented. Longing. “I can’t.”

If Callie had had any doubts left that she was head over heels for her, they would have vanished into thin air at this moment. As it was, she knew exactly where she stood.

“If...” she said, “you cook me dinner at my place, can I thank you afterwards?”

“Let’s go.” Rebecca’s smile was hesitant, as much of an affirmation as she was going to get for now. Callie took a deep breath. Maybe neither the universe nor God was that cruel after all. If only both could look the other way, just for the moment.

* * * *

Ironically, Rebecca remembered cooking something light and easy on occasions when the girls went to Laurie’s or friends for a sleepover. She and David would share dinner, wine, leisurely lovemaking later. She didn’t want to think about this now as she stood at Callie’s stove, but the thoughts were intruding. Maybe she deserved that. After all, she’d nearly fallen into bed with her right then and there in the master bedroom. Part of Rebecca was rebelling though. Why would she have to be the one to always compromise? Would the world stop if she just once put her own needs before those of others?

She was giddy. She was also scared out of her mind. Not of what anybody would think of her, or God’s wrath. He couldn’t possibly judge her any harsher than she would judge herself after this weekend. Still, Rebecca had made a decision, and she wasn’t going to step down from it. There was just something she had to do.

Fall moved in, the evening air crisp and clear. The smell of smoke was in the air, calming her as she stepped out on the porch for a moment. The house across the street, her home, seemed far away, almost like an illusion. She said goodbye to it for now. Rebecca turned to go back inside, closing the door behind her.

“Callie? Dinner’s ready.”

Flames were flickering in the fireplace as they sat down to eat in the living room. Callie had set the table and made a fire in the meantime
. It’s not like you have to go to such lengths anymore
, Rebecca thought
. I can’t tell you no. I don’t even care to try anymore.

“This is so good!” Callie enthused, making Rebecca smile at her childlike enthusiasm, bringing up another memory.

“It is! You know, when I made that bad joke about being your pretend daughter, I only did it because what I really wanted to say would have been very inappropriate.”

“Really? What were you going to say?”

Callie was leaning against her, the plate in her lap, glass in hand. It wasn’t the best way to eat, but Rebecca wasn’t complaining.

“I could always offer my body in exchange.”

“Yeah, that would have gone over well.” Rebecca chuckled, imagining the LaRues’ reactions. She didn’t want to think of David. Not now.

“You know that’s what I’m going to do, right?”

“Right. That’s because starving writers like you have to eat.”

“Sure they do,” Callie said in a low whisper, a smile in her voice.

If there was a pun in it, Rebecca didn’t quite get it. For once she didn’t care. Her body understood more, though, the heat rushing to her face telling. She leaned back against the headrest, once again going through the events of the day, what they had said, what was still left. It seemed like a miracle that their paths had even crossed in the first place. Other than that, Callie had been through so much, and yet she was listening to the mundane problems of a suburban housewife. It was a miracle all right.

Chapter Seven

Then there was no more stalling. She couldn’t possibly get her hair any dryer. Hundred brushstrokes. The robe over the nightgown over the underwear was fairly decent. For now. Rebecca blushed hotly, wondering if she’d ever find the courage to leave this bathroom.

What would happen once she did? She’d spent a lot of time obsessing about what it all meant, these emotions, affection, longing, want. The conclusion stayed the same. It made her a person capable of caring for another person, of love, something that was undeniably praised in the Bible. A person about to commit adultery. To sin.

In a heartbeat, Rebecca realized that she didn’t give a damn about distasteful and mean jokes she’d heard all through her life, the ones she’d always thought weren’t right, but not applying to her in any way. She didn’t give a damn about anybody’s narrow-minded stereotypical worldview, even if that somebody was one of her former best friends. The adultery part, she’d have to work out between herself and her conscience, but not now.