Fresh Tracks (14 page)

Was it? Kristin shook her head. Of course not. Of course that wasn't it. A lot of things

were important to her, she just needed money to take the best care of them that she

could. That only made sense. What did being happy have to do with making a living?

Kristin stopped in her tracks as if she'd been slapped by the ridiculousness of the

statement.

"Jesus Christ, I hate that little bitch," she muttered to the snow at her feet.

Inside, Laura was sitting at the dining room table, the cordless phone in front of her and

the terrier curled up at her feet. The dog lifted his little brown head at the sound of the

front door and gave a halfhearted yip.

"Hey," Kristin said as she shed her boots and coat. "Any luck?"

Laura grimaced and shook her head. "The nearest animal shelter is closed this week for the holiday. I called the police station to see if anybody had reported a dog missing, and

nobody has."

"Maybe you've got yourself a new pet." Kristin ruffled the dog's fur.

Laura looked the slightest bit uncomfortable with that idea. "Somebody's got to be missing him. Look how sweet he is."

Kristin sympathized with the worried look in Laura's eyes. "It'll work out."

"I just think about somebody knowing he's gone and how scared they must be for him."

"He was very lucky to be found by you. Look at it that way. Without you, he'd be a pup-sicle by now."

Laura smiled at the dumb play on words. "I suppose you're right. I just can't help feeling like I'm stealing him, you know?"

"Think of it as dog-sitting." Kristin smiled and touched Laura's shoulder, hoping she was making her feel the tiniest bit better. Though she couldn't explain why, it bothered her to

see Laura uncertain. She had such a great smile—those dimples were to die for—and

Kristin just wanted her to smile again.

Glancing up and out the window, she saw Sophie's Jeep turn into the driveway. "Looks like the gang is back." It surprised her to realize that she was happy to see Molly return, had missed her while she was gone. The thought brought a smile to her lips, one that soon

faded as Molly exited the Jeep and, rather than coming into the house, strolled behind the

garage and stood chatting with Jo and Darby.

Kristin tried to swallow her disappointment. For the first time since her arrival, she

seriously wished she hadn't come. She could be at home right now. Better yet, she could be

in her office working on something that would take her mind off this crap. Why be here

with people she didn't like? With people who didn't like her? Somewhere in the deep

recesses of her mind, she knew that was a gross overgeneralization, but she didn't care.

Darby didn't like her and she certainly didn't like Darby. Christ, my own wife doesn 't even

like me anymore, she thought with bitterness. She didn't know Laura or Sophie well, so

they didn't count as friends. Amy and Jo had always been sweet to her, but they'd been

Molly's friends before Kristin had come along. During her stay, she'd felt their

distance, felt that they were keeping her at arms' length. Jo's comments about her rise at

work had been the first inkling she'd had that maybe she wasn't number one on their shit

list.

Because we're all lesbians, we have to automatically like each other? Who made up that

rule?

She headed upstairs to her room and sat heavily on the bed, feeling the stress drench her

as though somebody had come along and dumped it over her head in icy, liquid form. Her

heart began to race and a searing pain pierced her behind her right eye.

"Damn it."

The experience was almost familiar now. She tried to relax, to calm herself, to talk herself

down, so to speak, as she'd been doing for the past six months since the panic attacks had

started. Part of her knew she should probably go see a doctor about them, but logic always

won out. She was tired. She was stressed. She was overworked. Was there a business

executive in this day and age who didn 't have panic attacks like this?

She leaned forward, dropped her head between her knees, and rocked, counting slowly

from one to ten. Tears sprang into her eyes, which annoyed her more than anything else.

She wanted nothing more than for Molly to come up the stairs, find her in pain, and wrap

her up in her loving embrace. Kristin couldn't remember the last time they'd hugged for no

other reason than because they loved one another.

"Molly," she whimpered as she stared at the braided rug beneath her feet.

But Molly was outside. Talking to Darby.

"Damn it," she said again, but this time, it came out as more of a whimper, and one half-sob escaped her lips before a distinct buzzing sound filled the air. Kristin whipped her head up

—a bad idea judging from the way the room spun for several seconds. Her Blackberry was

vibrating on the dresser.

Excellent, she thought as she pressed the palms of her hands against her throbbing

temples and squeezed her eyes shut. Something to focus on was just what she needed. It

was what she always needed when she felt like this. Taking a deep breath to steady

herself, she got slowly to her feet and crossed to the dresser. She picked up the

Blackberry and did her best to infuse her voice with a clipped, professional tone she didn't

feel.

"Kristin Collins."

She listened, trying her hardest to focus on her client's voice while she massaged her

forehead with icy fingertips. She didn't register the footsteps coming up the stairs.

NOTHING'S TRIVIAL

J

o took a swig from the Heineken bottle as she watched the others settle into seats around

the living room. She sighed inwardly, wondering what the hell her beloved had been thinking

when she broke the group into teams. Jo totally understood the splitting up of partners—

that was standard practice in any game—but teaming Molly with Darby was something she

herself would never have done. She made a mental note to have a talk with Amy later that

night, assuming the game went well and nobody was beaten to death with the game board.

Then she was thinking that the discussion with Darby they'd debated earlier might actually

be in order after all.

She arranged the question cards in piles she preferred on the TV tray in front of her—

after all, she was the Quiz Master, a name she liked to call herself; she'd much rather ask

the questions than play the game any day. Scanning a few of the queries, she let her

thoughts dwell on her niece. Much as she liked to admit that it was amusing to watch her

push Kristin's buttons—and she'd become a pro at it in an alarmingly short time—there was

a line that Darby was coming dangerously close to crossing. Her attention to Molly was

bordering on inappropriate. It was one thing to be harmlessly flirty—hel , they were all like that every now and then—but when it was pretty apparent that a couple was having issues,

that type of behavior was unacceptable and the best course of respectable action was to

step back.

Jo blamed Darby's age as well as her reckless personality for her failure to realize these

facts. Or did she realize them, but not care? Jo was a little bit shocked to find herself

feeling sympathy for Kristin. Molly wasn't cutting her any slack at all. Granted, Jo didn't

live in their

house, didn't see their day-to-day interaction, and might very possibly be missing

something big. But from what she saw here in the past two days, Molly held the reins,

pretty much all the cards, and pulled every string, and still she seemed miserable. Was it

possible that she had no idea? No clue that she had all the control? That Kristin had

handed it all over, maybe not even knowing it?

Across the room, seated on the couch, Sophie felt her nostrils flare as if her

disappointment used them as an alternative route for escape. Amy had paired her with the

cheater. What the fuck? She grabbed her glass and took a big gulp, then nearly choked.

She'd mixed it herself and the ratio of vodka to tonic was distinctly backward. She

managed to hold back the coughing fit, feeling her eyes water and her face redden, but

nobody noticed, thank God.

Laura sat close to her on the couch, their thighs pressed together and Sophie caught

herself inhaling deeply, taking in the scent of Laura's perfume, letting it absorb deep into

her lungs. She absently wondered what brand it was. She tried to watch Laura out of the

corner of her eye, peripherally without turning her head. It wasn't easy and gave her a

headache almost immediately—or was that from the previous two drinks? God, she was

going to be useless during this game.

Something she'd noticed about Laura that alternately softened Sophie and annoyed the

crap out of her was the perpetual smile. It didn't matter what she was doing...eating,

watching TV, reading, on the phone with various animal shelters.. .Laura always seemed to

have a very slight grin, making her dimples almost constantly apparent. It gave her an air of friendliness, of gentle kindness. Sophie snorted aloud. She should have to have the word

"adulteress" tattooed on her forehead, she thought with bitterness. As a warning for future potential partners.

She sipped again, squeezing her eyes shut for a second as she swallowed, and made a

mental note to ease up on the next drink. When they'd returned from their shopping trip

earlier in the afternoon, Laura had been feverishly scanning the phone book for more

places to call about the dog. Sophie didn't know why, but she neglected to mention the guy

at the store. It was pretty obvious that the terrier now lying possessively across Laura's

feet was his, but something had kept Sophie from sharing that knowledge. As if sensing

her train of thought, the dog shifted slightly and rested its chin on one of Sophie's socked

feet.

Sophie ignored her self-deprecation. She told herself she enjoyed the worried look in

Laura's eyes. She told herself it served her right to be uncertain. Let her sweat it out.

She sipped again, willing the vodka to dull the realization that she was simply being mean

for the sake of meanness, and tried not to feel the warmth radiating from Laura's leg

against hers. Instead, she turned to her left and asked Kristin if she was any good at

Trivial Pursuit.

Kristin blinked rapidly as if coming out of a trance. Dragging

her pretty blue eyes away from Molly and Darby, who were giggling

. together across the room as they sat on the hearth, she turned to Sophie.

"Depends on the category," she said, forcing a smile. "I'm sort of a

science geek."

"Me, too," Sophie said. "And I like the geography questions."

"Good, because I stink at those." Laura joined the conversation. "I'm pretty good with the literature and entertainment categories, though. We might do okay."

Kristin leaned forward so she could see Laura around Sophie. "Molly rocks at

entertainment. She might give you a run for your money."

Laura grinned at the challenge, her dimples deepening. "We'll see."

Over on the hearth, Darby was enjoying making Molly laugh as they bumped shoulders.

"How's your drink?" she asked.

"Still half full," Molly responded as she peered into her rum and Coke.

"And you're laughing this much at my jokes? Man, you must be a lightweight."

Molly smiled at the truth of the statement. Kristin always teased her for her inability to

hold her alcohol. She looked across the room at her girlfriend, but she was lost in

conversation with Sophie and Laura. She turned her attention back to Darby, who was

talking.

"Are you good at this game?"

Molly shook her head. "Not really."

They held each other's gaze in silence for several long seconds before they both burst out

laughing.

"Terrific," Darby said. "We're going to get our asses kicked." She tousled Molly's hair playfully.

Amy entered from the kitchen, handed a new beer to Jo, another

to Laura, then plopped down on the floor at Kristin's feet. Leaning back against Kristin's

shins, she tipped her head backward and asked, "Ready, partner?"

Kristin had managed not to glare at Darby when she touched Molly's hair, but she was

presently entertaining a very satisfying fantasy that consisted of breaking every one of

Darby's fingers, one at a time. Slowly.

"Okay," Jo announced. "Here we go. Team One, you go first."

Molly leaned forward and rolled the dice, then moved their slice of pie the requisite

number of spaces on the board that sat on the coffee table. "Green," she said.

"The category is Innovations," Jo told her. "What company, the makers of Rogaine, genetically altered a mouse to be bald?"

Molly and Darby put their heads together, whispering. Kristin gritted her teeth.

Darby looked up. "That would be Upjohn, Alex."

"That is correct."

Darby and Molly high-fived each other. Molly's smile was wide and sparkling as she rolled

again. Kristin's stomach clenched and heaved as they answered another question correctly

and slapped hands. Kristin exhaled in relief when they got the next one wrong, thinking she

couldn't possibly take any more demonstrations of team celebration without going

completely insane.

Sophie rolled for Team Two.

"The category is News," Jo said in her serious game-show-host voice.

Laura leaned forward and caught Amy's eye. "She gets into this, doesn't she?"

Amy snorted. "You have no idea."