September Canvas (24 page)

“Are you ever going to tell me the whole truth about what’s been going on here these last two years?”

Deanna didn’t answer right away. “Yes. Not right away. One day.”

“All right.” Faythe took Deanna by the hand and led her to the master bathroom. “Now, how about some mutual back scrubbing?”

“Oh, Faythe,” Deanna said, her voice trembling. She undressed both of them in record time and pulled Faythe into the shower stall, where warm water engulfed them. “Sweetheart, I’ll scrub anything you want.”

“Mmm. Good to know.
Very
good to know.”

"I can’t believe you tricked me into this. What are we? Fourteen?” Deanna scowled at Faythe.

“Think of it as therapeutic,” Faythe said blithely. “And quite elaborate. Spin the bottle is one thing, truth or dare another, but a mix between the two—that’s a game for big girls. And besides, we have no electricity, which means no TV, nothing, nada.”

“That may be, but I refuse to stand on one leg and drink raw eggs or anything.”

“Ew.” Savannah made a disgusted face. “Is that what they did way back when?”

“What do you mean, way back when?” Deanna stopped scowling and looked offended instead. “I’m thirty-four. Not a fossil from the Jurassic period.”

“Sorry.” Savannah appeared anything but contrite. Instead her broad smile hinted at the fun-loving young woman she might become if she could sort out the issues of her life.
Mainly her mother.

“And yes, it happened to me a few times,” Deanna said. “Especially if the shy boys there didn’t dare kiss any of the girls. Plenty of times I preferred to drink raw eggs, especially if the ‘God’s gift to girls’ boys were present.”

“Yeah, I remember being so relieved once,” Faythe said, “when I was supposed to kiss the super-nerd instead of the guy who had girls swooning and falling over themselves. So the stud set me up, thinking I despised the nerd as much as he did, and said I should kiss him for two minutes straight.”

“Two minutes. Wow.” Pammie rested her chin in her palm where she sat on the floor next to the coffee table. “So, how did it work out?”

“Maybe I should save that answer for when you nail me with a ‘truth’ question?”

“Aw, come on.” Pammie winked. “Don’t hold out on us.”

“Yeah, tell us,” Deanna chimed in. “What happened to the poor nerd?”

“He and I ended up going to the prom together. We stayed in touch until a few years ago when he and his male partner moved to Mexico City.”

“His partner. Oh, so the nerd’s gay?” Pammie said. “You never said what kissing him was like, though.”

“I never kiss and tell,” Faythe said primly, winking at Deanna.

“So it was bad, huh?” Pammie didn’t let up.

“I didn’t say that. Hopefully, neither of you will ever meet him. He was sweet.”

“Sweet?” Savannah and Pammie exclaimed in unison.

“Yes. It was a sweet kiss. He showed more sensitivity than any of the other guys ever would’ve.”

“Okay, okay, we believe you. Now it’s time to get this show on the road.” Pammie rubbed her hands together, then took the empty wine bottle. She placed it on a circular tray they’d found in the kitchen and wiggled it back and forth while she assumed a contemplative expression. “Let’s see if I still have my magic touch.” She spun the bottle on the tray, and after a few wild revolutions, its neck pointed at Faythe. Deanna had to laugh at her dismayed look. Faythe obviously had pictured Deanna being on the hot seat.

“All right. Truth or dare, Faythe?” Pammie asked.

“Truth.”

“When did you realize you’re a lesbian?” Pammie wasn’t taking any prisoners.

“College, my first year. Not only because of my spin-the-bottle experiences,” Faythe said, “but because I had zero interest in discussing the opposite sex with my friends. I just couldn’t appreciate what they found so attractive about boys and men. So, I’d say, at nineteen.”

“Wow. That was almost too easy.” Pammie looked a bit disappointed.

“My turn.” Faythe grabbed the bottle and spun it. It stopped, pointing at Pammie. “Aha. Payback.” Faythe had a devilish gleam in her eyes. “Truth or dare?”

“Hmm. Truth.”

“When did
you
realize that you had feelings for Savannah?”

“Wha—oh.” Pammie looked completely taken by surprise.

“Well?” Faythe prodded.

“Um. Well…” Pammie looked everywhere but directly at Savannah. “I haven’t told her in so many words, you know. I mean, I’ve told her many times that I love her, but I haven’t…I haven’t said I’m
in
love with her.” She looked shyly at Savannah. “Guess you know, though.”

“I do.” Savannah’s voice was soft and came off as just as shy.

“It was three years ago,” Pammie said, “six weeks after summer break. Savannah was sauntering down the hallway with her entourage, and the September sun filtered through the windows above the main doors. It was as if she was being bathed in gold.” Pammie blushed.

“She didn’t even look my way, but one of her cronies gave me the evil eye. I gave her the finger.”

Deanna guffawed. She could imagine that such an action shocked and appalled the girls that used to hang with Savannah.

“I didn’t know. I never had any idea.” Savannah looked suddenly sad. “Maybe if I had, I wouldn’t have—”

“Shh.” Pammie squeezed Savannah’s hand. “It’s okay. Besides, I had a crush on you, was possibly already in love then, even, but I didn’t like you very much.”

“Nothing much to like.” Savannah said ironically. “I was a self-centered bitch riding on her parents’ positions.”

“Didn’t I just hush you?” Pammie shook her head in mock dismay. “Now, where was I? Oh, right. I think I answered your question, Faythe. Three years ago, almost to the day, since she was standing in the sunlight. There’s something magical about the light in Vermont this time of year.”

“I totally agree,” Faythe said, and glanced at Deanna. Something convoluted flickered over her face and Deanna tried to decipher it. It combined wonder and alarm, and Deanna wanted to wrap her arms around her, reassure her, even if she had no idea what might cause such feelings.

“So, my turn again. Here goes.” Pammie forcefully spun the bottle, nearly sending it flying off the tray. “Whoops.” The bottle eventually stopped, pointing at Deanna.

Deanna had already decided on her answer. “Dare.”

“Of course.” Pammie nodded enigmatically. “Let me see. Oh, I know. Show how you give your best neck rub.”

“Neck rub.” Deanna wanted to groan, but anything was better than the ongoing inquisition. “All right. Turn around, Faythe.”

“I hoped you’d pick me.” Pammie winked. “My shoulders are super sore.”

“Take the hint, Savannah,” Deanna said, deciding to stop being so uptight and take this silly game in stride. “Watch and learn.” She moved in behind Faythe while rubbing her hands together to make sure they weren’t cold. In fact, the prospect of touching Faythe made her instantly hot. Savannah rubbed her hands the same way, while scooting in behind Pammie. She frowned as she focused, clearly set on mimicking Deanna’s movements.

“That’s right. Do exactly what I do. Feel good, Faythe?”

“Mmm.” Faythe sat with her eyes closed, her head lolling a bit as Deanna kneaded tense neck muscles.
Is she that stressed, despite
being on leave? Guess that’s because of me.
Deanna wanted to make up for everything she’d dragged Faythe into and tried to give her the best massage available in Grantville. Another moan, this time from Pammie, made Deanna chuckle.

Savannah was glancing repeatedly at her out of the corner of her eyes. Deanna would never have guessed Savannah had this sweet, caring side in her that could make someone as strong and honorable as Pammie fall in love—and stay in love—with her. Deanna tried to envision the almost neurotic girl who’d latched on to her, smothered her with attention, unable to take no for an answer, but it was impossible.

Instead she saw this broken young woman, trying to make up for her actions by denying herself her own future, professionally and personally. Deanna slid her hands up and down Faythe’s upper arms, applying enough pressure to smooth out the small knots in her biceps.

Twin blissful moans and a quick glance at Savannah showed that she’d copied that move as well.

Feeling small horns sprout on her forehead, Deanna slid her fingers up to Faythe’s collarbones, where she massaged just above and beneath them. She moved her fingertips in slow circles, making sure Savannah didn’t miss the soft way she touched Faythe, who looked up at Deanna with a puzzled expression. Deanna motioned toward the young women with her chin, and Faythe blinked twice before she obviously caught on.

Her smile showed her approval and she settled back against Deanna.

“Mmm.”

Deanna caressed, rather than massaged, her way down to Faythe’s breasts. She wasn’t about to touch her lover intimately in the presence of someone else, but Savannah and Pammie didn’t know that. She brushed the sides of Faythe’s breasts with her thumbs, over and over.

Feeling Faythe tremble, Deanna’s heart melted. Just how far had she fallen for Faythe? Far enough to feel mortally wounded only hours ago when she thought Faythe had betrayed her.

“Oh.” Pammie sounded breathless and her cheeks had bright red spots.“There. That’s my best technique,” Deanna said, relenting with an innocent look on her face. “What do you think, Pammie? Savannah followed my instructions to a T.”

“I bet she did,” Pammie said in a mock growl. “And you’re pleased with yourself, aren’t you?”

“No idea what you’re talking about.” Deanna pushed away from Faythe and noticed that she seemed to have problems breathing. “Inhale, exhale, darling,” she whispered, and noticed her choice of endearment only when Faythe became still. Not about to acknowledge her slip, Deanna acted casual as she extended a hand to Faythe, stroking her back. “I’m breathing,” Faythe said, giving Deanna a stern look. “No thanks to you.”

“Huh.” Deanna couldn’t stop a wide grin. “I take that as a compliment.”

“You would.” Faythe returned the smile.

“It’s your turn, then,” Savannah said. She looked slightly flustered as she handed the bottle to Deanna.

“Okay.” Deanna spun the bottle and it pointed at Faythe, who groaned loudly.

“Truth or dare, Faythe?” Deanna waited expectantly. She was enjoying this silly game more than she’d thought possible.

“Eh…truth. No more pseudo-erotic displays, thank you very much.”

Deanna laughed. “You might just regret that statement.”

“Hardly.”

“Let’s see.” Deanna meant to ask a silly question, but suddenly she thought of the last hours when they’d shared so much and formed something between a truce and friendship. “Where do you see yourself in five years?”

“What?” Faythe blinked twice. “Where…?” She lowered her gaze and fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “Oh, uh, I envision myself writing. A novelist, a freelancer…you know. Not TV, or at least not as much. I hope I’m still living in Manhattan. I love my condo.” Deanna went cold. She had asked the question hastily—too hastily, she admitted. Catching Faythe off guard was not a good idea, never was, Deanna admitted to herself. Despite her warm, upbeat manner, Faythe was intensely private, and Deanna was only now beginning to comprehend just how conflicted Faythe was about herself.

“So, back to the core of writing, pen on paper, fingers on keyboard. What do you want to write?” Deanna wanted to keep Faythe talking before she clammed up.

“That’s another question, for another bottle spin.”

“Ah, but this is a multipurpose kind of question.”

“Oh,
really
.” Sarcasm oozed from the single word.

“Yes.”

Faythe glared at her for long seconds, then made a big production of rolling her eyes. “Very well, if you insist. I’ve always loved reading memoirs and autobiographies and interviewing someone interesting, but going much deeper than the time frame my morning show allowed. I’ve wished I could dedicate the whole show to a lot of my interviewees, or several shows, like a series. They had so much to tell, lived such interesting, amazing lives.”

“You’d be great at it,” Pammie said. “That’s what I liked best about your show, when you interviewed your guests. Nothing annoyed me more than when you had to interrupt them and go to commercial.”

“I know.” Faythe made a wry face. “Me too.”

“And in a book you’d tell the story of the person you’re writing about, uninterrupted.” Savannah nodded. “Who or what kind of person would you write about first?”

Suddenly they forgot about the game they’d been playing, and Deanna listened carefully as Faythe talked about her dreams. Faythe’s voice changed when she outlined a new life, one where she was in charge of her own future, doing what she loved to do rather than what others expected.

“If I can’t do something I like, with quality in mind rather than celebrity and popularity, then what’s the use?” Faythe said wistfully. “I can’t picture myself doing the morning show anymore.”

“I never would’ve guessed that your job wasn’t
the
dream job.” Savannah leaned her head on Pammie’s shoulder. Pammie kissed the top of her head. “I mean, working on TV and all.”

“Yeah, I used to think so too. And I won’t lie. Some aspects of it are fascinating. You’re in a world that can be glamorous and magical. The hours are grueling, but I got so fed up with my colleagues who complained endlessly. For heaven’s sake, they should’ve tried working nights at a nursing home, or early mornings as a garbage collector downtown!” Frowning, Faythe shook her head. “You’d think what we did was brain surgery the way they carried on. People need to take pride in what they do, but they have to keep a healthy perspective.”

“I agree.” Deanna wanted Faythe to know she understood. “Take Miranda’s teachers and caregivers, for instance. They work tirelessly for these kids, to provide an education and a good life for them, while they’re at the school. For some of the students this is their only quality interaction with other people. Their parents are ignorant, overwhelmed, or sometimes even fed up. So that’s why some jobs, like mine, seem… well, I wouldn’t say less important, but—”

“Because you’d be wrong.” Faythe took Deanna’s hands. “I figured this out for myself after working in the entertainment industry a few years. I was starting to beat myself down because it was so superficial. Then I was reading a really good mystery novel, which took me away to dark alleys in another era and made me forget about several things in my life that were bothering me. When I finished reading, I felt refreshed and rested in a way that a night’s sleep couldn’t match. I had recharged my batteries, so to speak, thanks to this book, and ultimately thanks to the author.” Faythe’s soft expression made Deanna lean forward to kiss her before she remembered they weren’t alone. Faythe clearly understood and the same desire showed in her darkening eyes. “So, you illustrate these incredible books for kids and adults, and you take them on a journey to some magical place, or a scary place, or…well, anywhere you can imagine.”