Fresh Tracks (8 page)

classy, gorgeous, and very accomplished in the art of seduction." She grimaced in a self-deprecating way. "I fell head over heels in love with her, and for the first time in my life I felt comfortable with who I was. And I was certain we would be together forever." She

sipped her coffee.

"What happened?" Molly asked, sitting forward, her elbows on the table.

Sophie watched Laura shrug, recognizing the movement as a way to make something appear

not as hurtful as it actually was. She'd used that same gesture herself many times when

talking about Kelly.

"My husband found out. He was livid, of course."

"Wait. You and this Amanda were together while you were stil married to him?" Nausea churned in Sophie's stomach. "You were cheating on him with her?"

Laura nodded. "Yes. I'm not proud of it, but I couldn't help myself. I just wanted to be with her." She sipped from her mug again, out of self-consciousness, Sophie suspected.

"Apparently, Amanda had

no such intentions. She was never going to leave her husband. In fact, I was simply a fling

to her. She'd had several with other women. I had no idea."

The table was quiet aside from the gentle murmurs of pity. Sophie watched Laura's face

seeing the hurt that hid just beneath the surface, but at the same time feeling that she

deserved it. "Your poor husband," she said quietly.

Laura's blue eyes turned to her, a split second of icy defiance visible in them before it

melted into guilt. "Yeah."

"Right, but what was she supposed to do?" Darby asked. "She's realizing she might be gay."

"How about talking to her husband?" Sophie tried not to make the suggestion through clenched teeth. "Telling him the truth? Giving him a chance?"

"A chance to what?" Darby countered. "It's good in theory, but doesn't really hold any water. There's nothing he can do to make her not gay, right?"

Laura's head cranked back and forth between the two as they spoke, as if she was

watching a tennis match.

"They still could have talked," Sophie said, her anger building.

"It wouldn't have mattered," Darby insisted.

"It might have."

"How? Was she just supposed to stay in a relationship where she wasn't happy?"

"Yes!"

Darby flinched as though Sophie had slapped her and fell silent, the pieces of the puzzle

falling into place. The entire table had grown quiet, the atmosphere suddenly filled with

discomfort as people focused on their drinks or their food, afraid to look up.

"Kelly cheated on me." Sophie said it matter-of-factly, as if remarking on the weather. She felt the stares of Amy and Jo, knowing this was news to them.

"What?" Jo said, surprise clear in her voice.

"Kelly was having an affair. With that...woman from the gym." She spat the word "woman"

with the same inflection she'd have given if she'd said "mucus" or "vomit." "That's who she's living with now. Evidently, they're very happy."

"Oh, Sophie." Amy reached over and placed her hand over Sophie's. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Sophie half-shrugged. "It's not really something that's fun to share. It makes you feel

worthless, like all your years together were a lie, like your partner has been settling for

second best the whole time." She glanced pointedly at Laura, who pressed her lips together and studied the contents of her mug.

"Wel , obviously Kelly was a moron," Molly piped up, looking slightly il herself.

Sophie chuckled, grateful for the comment of solidarity. "Thanks, Molly."

There was an awkward silence, the sounds of silverware on plates and the sipping of coffee

filling the room.

Jo cleared her throat. "So. How 'bout those Buffalo Bil s?"

Sophie felt a small smile make an attempt to appear on her face, acknowledging gratitude

to Jo for at least trying to lighten the moment.

Jo continued, her strong voice cutting through the quiet. "Amy. Tell the story." At Amy's quizzical expression, she clarified, "About the woods."

"Oh, no," Darby grumbled good-naturedly. "Not the Magic Acre story."

"Shut up, Darby," Amy scolded with a grin. Looking around the table, she asked her dearest friends, "I've never told you this story? Molly? Surely you must have heard it."

"Magic Acre? I don't think so." Molly raised her eyebrows in uncertainty. "Maybe. Refresh my memory."

Sophie loved to listen to Amy's voice. She had a decidedly feminine lilt with a little bit of hoarseness underneath that put her on Sophie's list of Women Who Can Read the Phone

Book to Me. She sat back in her chair and listened to her friend speak.

Amy had tied her hair back into a ponytail when she began cooking dinner. It now hung over

the front of her left shoulder, the end curling in a corkscrew. She wound it around her

finger and pursed her lips, finding the right place to start. "When I was a kid—a little kid, like four or five—my grandmother used to tell me the woods around here were enchanted.

She said that a hundred or so years ago, there was a structure back farther on the

property." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder to indicate the back yard. "Apparently, a witch lived there."

Sophie chuckled, as did Laura. Darby hid her smile in her cup.

Molly gave them each a mock-scolding look and elbowed Darby. "Go on, Amy."

Amy inclined her head in thanks and continued. "She was a good witch, gentle, and looked out for those around her who also lived in this area. Nothing huge or what you'd consider

traditional witchcraft. She didn't cast scary spells. There was no fire and brimstone.

Grandma said she made 'magic nudges' to help teach people lessons or understand things

they already knew but had trouble accepting."

"So, she was, like, a witch psychiatrist?" Sophie asked with a giggle.

Amy allowed herself to be teased. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"So," Darby continued, "Amy's grandma liked to call this spot in the woods the Magic Acre.

Even though there are seventy-five of them."

"Are all the acres magic or is there one specific one?" Laura asked, biting her bottom lip to keep from cracking up.

"Hey, you guys can make fun all you want, I believe it to be true," Amy said firmly, the remnants of a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Sophie helped herself to a cookie off a plate in the center of the table. "And Jo? What do you think?"

Jo's brown eyes glittered. "I think whatever Amy says is the absolute truth."

"A good, wifely answer," Molly commented. "Smart if you don't want to get cut off in the bedroom."

"Hey," Jo grinned. "My mother drowned all the dumb kids."

The laughter continued and the tension previously filling the room seemed to dissipate.

Sophie still felt the prick of disappointment in Laura, but managed to keep it in check.

Laura's revelation would most likely keep them from becoming friends, and Sophie almost

felt it was something over which she had no control. She could use all the new friends she

could get at this point in her life, but Laura? Her still-aching soul and forever-shattered

heart wouldn't allow it. How could she possibly like somebody who'd done the same,

horrible thing to her spouse that Kelly had done to her? She shook her head very slightly

from side to side, a movement she hoped was indiscernible to the rest of the crew at the

table. Impossible, she thought.

Much later, she exited the bathroom upstairs with her teeth brushed, her face washed,

and her pajamas on. Laura was sitting on the edge of her own bed in their room. Sophie felt

the blue eyes zip over her body and an expression she couldn't quite figure out crossed

Laura's face. She looked like she wanted to say something as she got to her feet, and the

two of them stood in the room for what felt like several long minutes, looking at each other

but saying nothing.

Finally, Laura pressed her lips together in a small semblance of a smile and left to take her turn in the bathroom. Sophie watched her go, feeling guilt, anger, disappointment, hurt,

attraction, and curiosity. She dropped down onto her own bed, suddenly exhausted, and

wondered how she could possibly feel so many feelings all at once and not simply have her

head explode.

Wednesday, December 28

LAURA

A

s had become her habit since living on her own, Laura Baker was awake at the crack of

dawn. "Oh Dark Thirty," Amanda would have called it; she hated getting up early. Amanda's idea of a perfect Saturday was to sleep until eleven and then wander around in her pajamas

until dinnertime. Laura had always hoped there would come a time when she and Amanda

shared a house and they could spend a Saturday in just that way. Now, it would never

happen.

As usual when she thought of Amanda and what would never be, her stomach cramped, her

body's very physical way of warning her off the subject. She shook the dark-haired,

smiling temptress out of her head and sat up in the twin bed. She felt rested, surprisingly

so given such a small sleeping space. But it was comfortable, the mattress firm. Stretching

her arms over her head, she glanced across the nightstand at Sophie's sleeping figure in

the next bed.

Sophie was definitely attractive, her dark skin smooth and unblemished. Her curly hair was

tousled and spread out all over the pillow, and Laura smiled when she thought about the

mess it would most likely be when she sat up. The smile slid away, though, when she recalled

the conversation over coffee the previous night and Sophie's obvious revulsion. She

understood Sophie's pain, she really did, but Laura had enough of her own guilt. She didn't

need somebody she'd just met heaping more on top of her. Stephen had made his hurt

very, very clear; she could see it on his face any time they were in the same room, and the

responsibility she felt for it made her head ache and her stomach churn. That, combined

with Amanda's betrayal, had made her

wonder how she hadn't just curled up into the fetal position in a corner and withered away

to nothing.

She lifted some clean clothes from her bag and tiptoed quietly to the bathroom, hoping

neither Sophie nor Molly across the hall was awakened by the squeaky hinges on the

bedroom door.

As she brushed her teeth, she thought about the last year of her life. She hadn't

withered away because she'd surprised herself with her own strength. That didn't mean

she didn't feel horribly guilty about the devastation she'd caused Stephen. It didn't mean

she didn't feel annihilated by her misjudgment and loss of Amanda. What it did mean was

that she was a much stronger person than she'd given herself credit for. And that made

her proud.. .lonely, but proud.

After dressing in jeans and a turtleneck, she padded quietly down the stairs, past what she

assumed was the sleeping form of Darby on the couch—it looked like nothing more than a

large pile of blankets—and was startled to find Jo at the dining room table, sipping a mug

of coffee and reading the paper. A new fire was crackling to life in the fireplace.

"Morning," Jo whispered. "Did you sleep okay?"

Laura nodded. "I slept great."

"Coffee?"

"Not yet. I think I'd like to take a walk first. Is that okay?"

"Sure." Jo pointed toward the back of the house. "There's a path that starts about here and cuts through the woods. Stay on that and it loops around." Her arm made a semicircle, her finger ending up indicating the garage. "You'll come out over here. It's about a half hour. You could do it twice if you wanted to be out longer."

"Once should be enough. I like to get the blood flowing first thing in the morning. Helps me wake up."

"You got boots? Gloves and hat? It's not snowing now, but we got a little overnight and

we'l probably get more today."

Laura smiled at Jo's motherly concern. "Yep. I brought it all. I'm good."

"Okay. Enjoy." Jo went back to her paper.

Laura was surprised that a paper got delivered out here, but then had to remind herself

that they weren't exactly in the middle of nowhere and there were certainly other people

who lived in this area. As she headed out the front door, she noticed a single set of

footprints that led to the end of the driveway and back: Jo retrieving the paper from the

mailbox by the road.

The air was brisk; it wasn't supposed to get above twenty-five degrees today. She trudged

around the house through the snow, which was a little more than ankle deep. It hadn't

occurred to her to bring her cross-country skis; what a perfect opportunity to glide

silently through some beautiful scenery. She made a mental note to ask if Amy had a pair

she could borrow. Laura loved her job at Shadow Oaks, but it was hectic and time-

consuming and she needed to grab on to every opportunity for relaxation that she could.

The sun hadn't quite risen, but the sky was smoothly fading from deep gray to light silver

and the snow allowed for more than enough visibility for her to trek along as the morning

broke folly. She could hear the winter birds chirping in the distance as though discussing

breakfast and their plans for the day. She'd also noticed a handful of bird feeders dotting

the property, courtesy of Amy, most likely. The woman was a serious nature lover. Laura

suspected that if she looked hard enough, she'd probably also find peanuts scattered

about for the squirrels and chipmunks and a salt lick or two for the deer.

Ten minutes into her walk, she stood completely still, breathing in the clean, crisp air,

listening to the sounds of nature around her. Laura was a country girl at heart. She'd spent