Fresh Tracks (18 page)

Darby nodded once.

"Go." Jo gestured to the door. "Aunt Amy's going to bust in here any minute wanting to know what's going on."

"Okay."

As she watched her niece leave, Jo released a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding,

her cheeks puffing out as she did so. She tried hard not to think of the week as having

turned into a disaster of epic proportions. It could be worse. Laura and Sophie could have

kil ed each other by now and the stray dog could have been a rabid Rottweiler instead of a

little terrier. Worse yet, we could be out of alcohol. She chuckled and ran a hand through

her curls, shaking her head in wonder. The door opened and Amy came in, concern on her

face.

She touched a hand to Jo's cheek. "What the hell happened?"

KRISTIN

K

ristin wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, and if she had been farther away from the

house, she would have. The last thing she wanted was for all of them to come running out to

see if she was okay. She wanted to be alone. She wanted to wallow in self-pity. She wanted

to bawl her eyes out and shriek to the heavens, demanding to know how and why her life

had become such a complete catastrophe.

She was so angry at everybody right now. She couldn't remember ever feeling such rage.

It boiled within her like some sort of witch's brew, sour and hot. As she stomped through

the snow and into the trees behind the house, she pictured the face of Jack Reeves. Then

she pictured her fist punching him square in the nose with all her strength. She used to

belong to a gym and she used to kick-box; he was a big guy, but she could clobber him

pretty well, she was sure.

She took a slug from the beer bottle in her hand. In her mind's eye, while Jack was

writhing on the floor and whining "my nose!" like Marcia Brady, Kristin turned her head and there stood Darby.

"Disrespectful little bitch," Kristin muttered out loud, clenching her teeth and wrinkling her lip in a snarl. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" And then her imaginary self punched Darby, too. Twice. Hard. It took her longer to go down than Reeves. No surprise

there.

All you need is a penis and you'd be the typical American white male.

Where the hell did that little punk get off saying something like that to her? Kristin hated

how much the statement had stung. Did that mean that somewhere deep down inside, she

thought it was true?

Kristin swigged again, choking on the swallow of beer and then stopping to collect herself

and catch her breath. She forged ahead, off the cleared path and straight back into the

woods. The air was crisp and she was glad she'd grabbed the hat and gloves on her way out.

She intended to stay outside for as long as she could. She didn't want to be near any of

those women, not even Molly. Not now. She was too embarrassed, too ashamed.

You 're practically invisible. Pretty soon, she won't see you at all.

That was true. God, what Molly must think of her. But really, did she have an option? Her

job was stressful and demanding, Molly knew that. There were times when it was going to

have to come first, right? There were bills to pay. There was a mortgage and two car

payments and Molly's student loan and vacations to take.. .Kristin blinked snowflakes from

her eyelashes. When's the last time we went on a real vacation? Three years ago? Four?

It had been Hilton Head. They'd rented a nice little bungalow and spent the week playing

golf, lying on the beach, and eating fine food accompanied by expensive wine. She could still vividly recall the love on Molly's face as she sat across the dining table of the fancy

restaurant, the candlelight flickering in her sea green eyes. Even now, Kristin's heart raced when she thought about it. How long had it been since Molly had looked at her that way?

Since Molly had looked at her at all?

She trudged on as unwanted tears welled in her eyes and a small whimper escaped her

throat. The ground sloped downward slightly as she stepped over a downed tree branch,

slipping a little in the snow.

"I'm so lost," she murmured, her voice cracking. "God, I'm so lost." A tear spilled free and forged a path down her pinkened cheek. "I don't know what to do anymore."

She thought of her job and her bills and her clients and her boss and her house and her car

and her wife and the pressure. God, the pressure. The pain flared up again just as it had

the previous day, pressing on her as if a boulder had been set on her chest. She moaned

and squeezed her eyes shut, determined to push ahead. If she just kept moving, the pain

would go away. It always did. She just needed to keep moving.

On her next step, her boot landed on a jagged and snow-covered rock, throwing her

completely off balance. She was falling before she even realized it. Her feet flew forward

and her arms flailed, grabbing

uselessly at the air to try and maintain her balance. She went down hard on her back, her

head smacking against a fallen log. Her vision blurred, then went black.

When Kristin opened her eyes and saw only sky, she had no idea how much time had passed.

"Son of a bitch," she grumbled, pulling herself to a sitting position in the snow. Much as she had wanted to stay away from everybody else, she now had no choice but to go back. Her

jeans had soaked through and her legs and ass were freezing. She expelled an annoyed

breath and hauled herself to her feet.

She followed her own tracks back to the path, then to the back yard and the house. She

heard a high-pitched yipping and saw the terrier in the distance. "Damn thing needs a

name," she muttered. He was heading toward the other end of the path near the garage,

his leash held by Laura.

"Watch your step in there," Kristin called to her. "It's a little slippery."

Neither the woman nor the dog looked her way.

"Terrific," Kristin mumbled. "The silent treatment. Can't wait to go inside."

She knew she'd made a scene, knew most of the women probably wished she hadn't come

at all. She was beginning to feel the same way and wanted nothing more than to stay

outside in the snow and away from the rest of the gang. If she'd thought to grab her car

keys before she'd stomped out, she could just hop in the Lexus, drive away, and leave all

this crap behind her. The reality, however, was that her butt was numb and if she didn't

get out of her jeans soon, they might end up frozen to her body permanently.

She trudged around the side of the house and up the steps to the front door. She stomped

the excess snow off her boots and went inside.

Jo and Amy sat on the couch, Amy's feet in Jo's lap, Jo rubbing them absently. They were

smiling as they listened to Darby relay a story in animated detail as she sat on the floor

near the fireplace. Molly sat in the club chair, looking distracted and a little sad, but she pretended to pay attention to the story. Nobody looked up as Kristin entered.

In the dining area, Sophie stood near the window and looked out toward the garage.

"They went onto the path," Kristin said to her. "Walking's a little tricky." She gestured to her own backside. "I ought to know."

Sophie said nothing and didn't turn her way.

Christ, Kristin thought. Is this how it's going to be? Now everybody hates me?

She turned to glare at Darby, thinking that if people had heard what she 'd said, how she'd

said it, maybe they wouldn't be so quick to judge. Maybe they'd be ignoring her instead of

Kristin. She unzipped and shed her coat and hung it up. Then she stepped out of her boots.

The whole time, she looked at Molly. Molly never once met her eyes.

She flinched at the realization of how much it stung to have her own partner completely

ignore her and she swallowed the lump in her throat. This is ridiculous. She crossed the

living room to the chair and looked down at Molly.

"Can I talk to you? Upstairs? Please?" She kept her voice calm and low. Darby kept on with her story, something about a weird customer at the video store. Jo and Amy watched with

rapt attention and smiles on their faces. Molly gazed wistfully out the front window, her

chin balanced on her fist.

Kristin blinked and looked around the room. Everybody was doing their own thing, absorbed

in their own thoughts and conversations. Kristin felt anger welling inside. "God damn it,"

she snarled as she stepped in between Darby on the floor and Jo and Amy on the couch.

"Hello?" she said, sarcasm dripping from the word.

Darby continued on with her story as if Kristin wasn't there. Jo laughed at something she

said. Kristin whipped her head around to face Jo, hurt. "Come on, you guys. This is mean."

Jo and Amy both continued to focus on Darby. Kristin turned back around and growled at

Darby. "Oh, my God, can you shut up for two secondsT'

Darby kept talking.

Kristin turned to Molly. She stepped back to the chair. "Molly? Honey, please? I'm sorry about earlier. I just want to talk to you."

Molly gazed out the window, her eyes sorrowfuL

"Honey?" Kristin repeated.

Sophie approached from across the room and Molly looked up at her. "I'm going to make

some hot chocolate. Want some?"

"That'd be great," Molly replied. "Thanks."

Kristin watched in disbelief as Sophie headed toward the kitchen. Molly was once again

looking out the window.

"What the hel , Mol?"

Molly continued not to answer. Kristin was breathing heavier now, her anger and hurt

causing her heart to beat more rapidly. She moved again so she was standing between

Darby and her aunts. They continued to converse, seemingly oblivious to Kristin. Kristin

said nothing, but watched carefully. After several minutes of watching Darby, then

spinning and watching Jo and Amy, a kernel of fear formed in the pit of her stomach. Jo

and Amy never adjusted their positions so they could see around Kristin. Kristin moved and

stood directly in front of Darby, who also never shifted to look around the obstacle before

her. The realization struck Kristin like a truck.

They 're looking right through me.

"Oh, my God," Kristin whispered. She squatted down in front of Darby and waved a hand in front of her face, barely an inch away. Darby didn't even flinch. Her blue eyes were

sparkling as she stopped talking and listened to what Amy was saying. Then she laughed and

responded, never once moving aside; she spoke to Amy as if Kristin was not in her way, was

not blocking her view. Kristin broke out in a cold sweat and stood.

"Oh, my God," she said again, her voice panicked this time. She looked at her wife. "Molly?

Honey?" She leaned close. She could smell Molly, her apple-scented shampoo, her citrus

perfume. She liked to joke with her that she smelled like a fruit bowl half the time, but

now Kristin inhaled deeply, reveling in the scent that represented her love, her life.

"Molly?" Her voice was barely a whisper. "Please look at me. Please."

As Molly gazed out the window at the freshly falling snow, Kristin reached out slowly,

waiting breathlessly for the moment when her fingertips would touch the creamy-smooth

skin of Molly's cheek. She whimpered in horror when her fingers passed right through,

then touched the chair in which Molly sat. She tried again. It was as if Molly was made of

mist. Kristin's hands simply passed through any part of Molly she tried to touch. She

staggered backward, blinking in shock, and fel on her butt to the floor.

She sat there for several long minutes, her heart pounding, her hand pressed to her chest

as the anxiety attack swept over her like a mudslide, burying her in its thick darkness. She

squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth, willing the pain to pass. When she was able

to breathe again, she looked to her left. Darby sat not three feet away, listening with a

grin as Amy prattled on about an unruly restaurant customer. Kristin blinked at Darby, then

reached out to touch her socked foot. Her hand passed right through to the floor, and

though it didn't surprise her, she still inhaled sharply when it happened. She looked back

up at Darby, studied her face. That's when Darby's voice rang through her head.

You 're practically invisible. Pretty soon, she won't see you at all.

"Oh, God." Had she actually become invisible? How? How was that possible? How had it happened? How could she fix it? Could she fix it? The questions raced through her head

faster than she could grab onto one and concentrate on it. She looked up at her partner of

so many years. "Molly?" Kristin knew she wouldn't hear her, wouldn't respond, but she said her name anyway, hoping to use it to ground herself. The feel of it on her tongue helped to

steady her jangling nerves just a little bit.

"Molly?" she said again as she crawled back toward her wife. Molly's chin was still propped on her hand, her elbow balanced on the arm of the chair. She looked out the window at the

day, but her eyes were unfocused. "What are you looking at?" Kristin followed her gaze but could see nothing of interest. "Are you daydreaming?" She sat down on the chair's

matching ottoman, wanting so badly to touch Molly that she thought she might scream. She

studied Molly's face, the lines etched around her mouth, the dark circles under those

dazzling eyes. "You look so sad," she whispered, her throat constricting and her heart breaking at the sight. "Do I do this to you? Do I make you this sad?"

Tears welled in her eyes and she was powerless to stop them as they spilled over and