Sea Glass Inn (10 page)

She had a car full of groceries—favorite foods, familiar brands—to make him feel comfortable with her fridge, at least.

He had handled the news of his parents’ divorce with concern, but when the three of them sat down to discuss the details of visitation and holidays, they had all been surprised by how far apart their worlds had grown. The logistics had been simple to negotiate, especially since Danny was old enough to share in the discussion and not be bandied about like a small child. After his initial search for answers and reassurance, he had adapted with the enviable resilience of youth.

The unacknowledged tension that had filled their home had dissipated, leaving them all shell-shocked but ready to move forward.

Danny had been awkwardly accepting when she’d told him she was gay, but she didn’t think either of them was ready to see her in a relationship. Not yet, when there were so many changes in both their lives. Or was she using him to avoid taking any risks of her own?

He had accepted Lesley without a problem. Had wholeheartedly supported Mel’s new venture. He had even tentatively started to share some details of his own dating life during their dinnertime conversations. She had been worried he would jump to the conclusion she and Pam were living together, but maybe her own attraction to her houseguest was making her imagine sexual tension and energy when nothing was there. But, whatever the reason, whatever her excuse, Mel wasn’t ready to push herself into the dating world, to risk disappointment and pain. To take a chance she would sublimate her own needs and desires to someone else’s. To require any more adjustments from herself or Danny until the dust had settled from the major upheaval they’d already faced.

She was too fragile. Too drawn to Pam. And too unaccustomed to living under the same roof with someone she found so sexy. But she’d better get used to it fast. She’d have guests at the inn. Women.

Lesbians. She couldn’t make a habit of developing crushes on every one of them simply because they were there.

Mel slowed as she drove through town. She saw Pam, of course.

Her house and her new town were too small for there to be any real distance between two people. Only a silly crush. No reason to feel jealous because the woman Pam was talking to was standing so close to her. She waved and forced a smile. She’d better start avoiding the street in front of Pam’s gallery, just like she’d been avoiding any part of the house where Pam might be.

❖

Pam raised her hand and waved as Mel’s Honda drove past. She had gotten used to scanning the quiet streets for the blue car whenever she was in town. She was supposed to be coming to the gallery to get away from Mel, away from her persistent attraction. Instead, she was aware of Mel’s movements all day. So she knew when Mel went to buy groceries or to the hardware store. When Mel stayed home and worked.

“Are you paying for your room at the inn, or are you working off your board with your pretty new landlady?”

Pam whipped her head around. She had been staring after Mel’s car and had nearly forgotten Tia was leaning against the building next to her. She had come outside for a cigarette and had been accosted before she could light up.

“Mel and I are friends, that’s all,” Pam said fiercely. “Don’t you dare start spreading rumors about us. She’s new in town and doesn’t need to have everyone talking about her behind her back.”

Tia laughed and grabbed the packet of cigarettes Pam had taken out. “You are not going to chase me away with these nasty things,” she said, tucking them in the pocket of her voluminous silk pants. She winked at Pam in her usual flirtatious way. “You want them, you’ll have to go in after them.”

Pam sighed. She normally laughed off Tia’s habitual flirting.

Neither of them took it seriously, but Pam really wanted to smoke.

Almost enough to break the unspoken rules of their friendship and go in after her pack.

“Now first of all,” Tia said, taking a step back as if she could read Pam’s intentions, “I meant helping her
with renovations
in exchange for your room and board. You apparently had another form of currency in mind. You’re turning red.”

“Because you made me mad,” Pam said, longing for an out-of-reach cigarette.

“Second, I don’t need to bother spreading the rumor that you’re staying with her because everybody already knows. Your house was damaged, and suddenly your car’s in her driveway every day and all night. The whole town has been able to piece together that particular puzzle.”

“There’s nothing going on. We’re just—”

“And third, she’s the topic of most dinner conversations anyway,”

Tia continued. “She buys the Lighthouse after it’s been on the market for absolute ages, and she plans to open a gay and lesbian B and B. Write the sexy local hermit into the story, and most people around here would rather talk about her than turn on the television.”

“I’m not a hermit. Or sexy. Just do me a favor and please don’t add any of your personal speculation to the rumor mill.”

“Okay. Then do
me
a favor and paint something for the charity art show.”

Pam sagged against the wall. Every conversation with Tia came to this. “I’ll donate something from the gallery, of course. But don’t expect me to paint anything else. I have enough on my mind with…”

Pam stopped midsentence, but Tia had heard enough to jump on the unfinished thought. “With…what? You’re painting for her, aren’t you!”

Damn. Five minutes of nicotine withdrawal and Pam couldn’t control her tongue. She battled with the improbable hope that she could keep Mel’s commission private. She sighed. Tia would find out eventually, anyway. And Pam had never told Mel the mosaics were a secret, so she had no reason not to tell people she was supplying artwork for Mel’s inn.

“Yes. She asked me to do a few sea glass paintings for her rooms. I don’t know how many I’ll get to, though.”

Tia nodded her head. “Very shrewd of you,” she said as she fished out Pam’s cigarettes and returned them. “Get in good with the innkeeper before she starts drawing every lesbian in the state here for vacation. If she’s successful with her inn, you’ll have plenty of short-term lovers rolling through town.”

Tia walked away laughing, and Pam lit a cigarette with a sense of relief. And confusion. What Tia said was true. She wondered why the thought hadn’t occurred to her before.

Saturday morning, Pam hesitated on the bottom of the stairs.

She had heard Danny arrive the night before, the house suddenly and palpably energized by the teenaged boy’s presence, but she had stayed in her room. When the sounds of Mel and Danny having dinner and touring the inn subsided, she had snuck down the stairs to let Piper out in the backyard. She had been tempted to join them, pulled by the changed timbre of Mel’s voice, clear and carefree—and punctuated by laughter—in a way Pam had heard only on the rare occasions when Mel told funny stories about her attempts to fix something or other, or when she described one of her numerous visits with Walter. But Mel was with her son this weekend. Pam told herself she didn’t want to intrude on their brief time together, but deep inside she knew the truth. Living in a house with a mother and son was too painful, too reminiscent of her former life. She couldn’t avoid Danny all weekend, but she didn’t feel ready to sit at a family table just yet.

Mel had apparently finished cleaning the bathroom downstairs after her robe-clad visit to Pam’s room. Pam hadn’t even seen her upstairs, clothed or not, since then. Mel left food in the kitchen for her and chatted briefly about the various dishes, but Mel had become too busy with her work on the house to have time for them to eat together.

Pam should have been happy with the arrangement since she had been trying to find a way to minimize their interactions, but instead, she perversely attempted to prolong their conversations. Until Danny came.

Piper didn’t share Pam’s reticence, and she trotted into the kitchen and directly to Danny.

“Hey, a dog! You didn’t tell me you got a dog.”

The sound of childlike delight in the tall, nearly adult boy’s voice threw Pam. She had expected him to be old enough not to trigger her memories of Diane’s son, the boy she had loved like a mother until their breakup. But, as she watched Danny kneel to play with an ecstatic Piper, all she could imagine was a vision of what the eleven-year-old Kevin would look like today.

“Danny, this is Piper. And her owner, Pam,” Mel said. Pam noticed Mel’s odd inversion as she introduced the pet first and the owner second. Either she considered Piper the star of the show, or she was trying to downplay Pam’s presence in her house. Maybe a little of both.

“Pam is staying here while her house is fixed,” Mel continued.

“It was damaged in the storm. She’s the artist who painted the mosaics in the rooms, although you’ve only seen one since she’s sleeping in the room with the other…”

Mel’s voice faltered to a stop. Danny reached one hand for Pam to shake while he kept scratching Piper with the other. Pam hesitated a moment, still confused by her jumbled thoughts of Kevin and Danny, the past and the present.

“Hi,” she said, finally stepping toward him. Danny’s handshake was firm. Mel must be so proud as she watched the boy growing into a man. How proud Pam would have been to watch Kevin go through this awkward transition from childhood to adulthood. How painful to be reminded of what she had lost—not just her past with Kevin, but also the future they had been denied.

“Nice to meet you,” he said. “You told me about her last night, Mom, so I kind of figured out who she was when she walked in the kitchen. But you didn’t say she had a dog.”

“Didn’t I? I thought I did.” Mel turned back to the counter. She looked and sounded a little flustered. Was she embarrassed to have another woman in the house? Worried about what conclusions Danny might reach about their relationship? She had no reason to be, since the only indiscretions had taken place in Pam’s mind. Of course, Mel
had
shown up at her bedroom door wearing nothing but a robe, but that didn’t count since Mel had seemed to have no clue how sexy she had looked.

“Will you join us for breakfast?” Mel asked Pam without looking at her. “I made pumpkin muffins.”

“They’re pretty good,” Danny said. He sat in his chair again, and Piper planted herself under the table at his feet.

“I’d like that,” Pam lied. “But I really need to head to my house this morning. The contractor is coming today.”

He wasn’t scheduled to arrive until eleven, but Pam had to get out of Mel’s house. She called Piper, but her dog had apparently decided she would rather stay with Danny, and she refused to budge.

Mel handed Pam a bag of muffins to take with her. “Piper will be fine with us today,” she said. Pam looked concerned, and Mel wanted to reassure her even though she had a feeling the animal wasn’t the cause of Pam’s deep frown. She had seemed upset since she’d walked in the kitchen. Mel was used to Pam’s nervous energy when they were together, as if Pam was long unaccustomed to being in close quarters with another person. But this was different. Pam looked at Danny with the same expression of pain she had whenever she saw one of her own paintings or whenever Mel talked about Pam’s art.

“Okay, I guess,” Pam said. “I’ll be back a little after five.”

“See ya,” Danny said.

“Yeah. ’Bye,” Pam said. She bumped into Mel as she backed out of the kitchen. “Sorry.”

Mel reached out a hand to steady Pam, but she edged away and left the room without another word.

Mel had put out her hand as a reflex. To help Pam rebalance. To try and absorb some of Pam’s tension. To reassure her Piper would be okay with them, even though she really didn’t think Pam was worried about leaving her dog for the day, unless she’d be lonely without her.

Mel felt a mix of hurt and relief at Pam’s avoidance of her touch, but she was too focused on her own emotions to be able to decipher Pam’s. She had felt unaccountably awkward introducing Danny to her, even though Pam was simply a friend staying in the house. Not a lover. Occasionally in Mel’s mind, perhaps, but not in reality.

“Let’s get started on the flooring, Danny,” Mel said, employing her regular answer to the confusing feelings Pam roused in her. Work.

Mel didn’t know what she’d do when work on the inn was finally complete, and she’d have to face some of her tumultuous reactions to Pam. Maybe by then she’d have a steady stream of guests, and she’d be too busy keeping up with their laundry and demands to acknowledge her ever-increasing arousal in Pam’s presence. Or her interest would be transferred to one of her guests, and her attraction to Pam would be proved temporary and meaningless. And easier to forget. Or ignore.

But work on the inn was mercifully far from complete. Mel knelt next to Danny in the living room and explained how to cut the laminate flooring, how to snap it in place, how to seal the edges. She occasionally repeated one of Walter’s expressions, making Danny snicker when her voice slipped into an imitation of Walter’s nasal tone.

They laughed and chatted as they worked, and Mel’s mind was at least somewhat occupied and off Pam. How different this was from her first day, when she had sat on the floor in despair, refusing to let Pam help her. She had moved from observer to participant to teacher.

With Danny’s help, and her own improving skill, she laid the laminate floor in half the time it had taken her to do the smaller bedroom she had started with the week before. The job looked neat and professional, and she and Danny celebrated by taking a picnic lunch to the beach.

Mel watched Danny throw pieces of driftwood for Piper to fetch, and she finally allowed herself to dwell on Pam’s changing moods.

She had been avoiding Pam the past few days, but she had noticed Pam seemed to be staying out of her way, as well. Mel hadn’t seen her painting at all since she had come to the house, and she had been so concerned about her own loneliness and attraction to Pam that she hadn’t really considered how difficult it might be for Pam to be away from her own home. Away from her routine and privacy. Mel had seen the starfish painting in the small laundry room. Maybe Pam painted in there, alone and quiet, without Mel and her projects and now her active teenaged son surrounding her.