Tales From Sea Glass Inn (31 page)

“Look! A heron.” Maggie kept her voice low,
but she pinched Tam’s arm in her excitement. “They’re my favorite. And there’s
another one, under that low-hanging branch.”

“Ouch,” Tam hissed. She panned across the
clearing with her binoculars. “Good sighting. Watch, Maggie, he’s about to
catch a fish.”

Maggie saw the heron make a quick lunge and
come up with a thin silvery fish in its mouth. If she had blinked, she would
have missed the moment. She sighed and leaned back, reveling in the sensation
of having the entire length of Tam’s body pressed against her own. Just like
life, she thought. Blink, and it’s gone. She’d missed so much by being cautious
and afraid, but even when she pushed out of her comfort zone, she didn’t feel
like she was living better or larger than usual.

This moment, right here with Tam and the
heron and the dappled shadows, was something to be treasured. This was Tam’s
world, though, and Maggie was only visiting. She saw lives cut short every day
at her job. Relationships left unhealed and dreams left unfulfilled. She had
taken her job because she believed life was precious and she wanted to help
prolong and enrich it for her patients. She, of all people, should be out
living her life to the fullest every day, every moment because she knew how
fragile health and the future really were. Instead, she went home alone night
after night and eased the tension from her day by watching TV.

Maggie reached for Tam’s hand and gave it a
squeeze as the heron’s sharp bill flashed out of the water with another fish.

*

Tam leaned over Maggie’s shoulder and added a
note about a lone cedar waxwing. Being this close to Maggie and inhaling her
delicate citrusy scent with every breath was intoxicating. Tam had been
cautious at first when Maggie had offered to come with her today. She barely
knew Maggie outside of the realm of the hospital’s oncology ward. She was
attracted to her, without a doubt, but that didn’t necessarily translate into
an easy few hours in someone’s company. Besides, Tam preferred to work alone
whenever possible.

Tam usually started her field excursions with
quiet observation, like they had today, watching undisturbed life in the pond
or ocean take place in front of her eyes before she had to step in and disrupt
it. She’d waited longer than usual today before starting actual fieldwork
because she’d loved the peaceful feeling of sitting close to Maggie. The
contact with Maggie’s thighs and hips was arousing, but the companionable way
they’d communicated through whisper and touch had been more intimate than
anything Tam had experienced before. They’d shared the thrill of the heron’s
fishing and had laughed quietly together at the antics of a tiny nuthatch. Tam
hadn’t wanted the closeness to end.

Of course, closeness and intimacy always
ended. Tam might be angry with her father and reluctant to assume this new role
in his life, but she was definitely his daughter. She’d inherited his need to
roam and his inability to stay in a relationship. She’d tried hard but had
never been able to form a tight enough bond to keep her in place. She was
lonely sometimes, but it was her choice and her personality.

Maggie was probably someone who forged deep
and lasting connections. She and her sister sounded very close, and she seemed
to have good friends within the community. Already, Tam could feel a web
spreading over her and Maggie as they expanded the sphere of their relationship
from a professional one at the hospital to a friendlier one out here in the
woods.

Tam shouldn’t lead Maggie on. She liked her,
yes. Was attracted to her and interested in her life and thoughts. But she was
destined to wander. To leave. Maggie deserved better. She was a nurturer,
giving her attention and energy to her patients and guiding people through
traumatic times with empathy and compassion. She needed someone who would be
there for her forever, no matter what. Tam was reluctant to break the still and
quiet sphere they’d created under the cottonwood tree, but she needed to
separate from Maggie for both their sakes.

Tam pulled her backpack between her knees and
gathered her supplies, stuffing the pockets of her vest and pants with vials,
sample kits, and leg bands. She usually had to balance her notebook and
equipment on her own, often dropping something vital in the water, and she was
glad to have an extra set of hands. She wasn’t sure what to expect from Maggie,
though. She’d been funny when she acted squeamish about the leeches back at the
inn, but once it came time to get dirty and do fieldwork, how would she react?

Maggie, of course, surprised her. She didn’t
hesitate or hold back no matter what Tam asked her to do. She waded through the
opaque water of the pond without a peep of concern, and held whatever bird or
frog or bug Tam managed to catch.

“You’re great with birds,” Tam said as she
ruffled the feathers of a small wood duck she’d captured, checking for any sign
of oil. Maggie cradled the duck against her stomach while Tam took a blood
sample and attached a band to its leg. She had the right balance between
handling the fragile creatures gently and being firm enough to keep the birds
from flailing and hurting themselves. “Did you work at the rescue center after
the spill?”

“A few times,” Maggie said. “I had a lot of
patients and not much time, so I did more beach cleanup than work at the
center. I could be out there at sunrise and shovel dirty sand for a few hours
before I had to be at the hospital. I don’t think our paths crossed at all. I’d
certainly have remembered you.”

“Same here,” Tam said, not meeting Maggie’s
eyes. “You can let her go. She’s clean.”

Maggie lowered the duck onto the surface of the
pond and stepped back with a laugh as the bird skittered away with a spray of
water.

“You do great work at the hospital,” Tam said
as she scribbled notes about the wood duck. “I admire you for volunteering on
top of all you do.”

Maggie shrugged. “I wish I’d done more.”

Tam bent down to collect water samples from
varying depths. She capped the first one and handed it to Maggie. “How do you
handle it? All the emotions and loss you face every day, I mean. I’m having a
hard enough time dealing with the intensity of having my father there and
reliving our past relationship, but you have an entire ward full of patients.
You seem to truly care about them, too.”

Maggie wrapped her hands around the small
stack of vials filled with murky pond water. “I do care, but I have to set
limits. Even though I chose this field for emotional reasons, the only way to
survive it is to remain as unemotional as possible and to support my patients
by searching for solutions and evaluating options with a clear head.” She
hesitated. “When I was young, I felt helpless to cure Joss, and I decided
really early that I wanted to become a doctor, so I’d be able to help people
like her and have some control over the threat of death. Her illness frightened
me to my core, but I’ve been able to keep that fear separate from my work.
Until lately, when it’s been sort of…leaking through. The suffering and sorrow
I’m exposed to have been taking something out of me, piece by piece. I
shouldn’t let it happen.”

Tam stood still, her samples and notes forgotten
as she watched Maggie’s expression change. Tam remembered her gorgeous smile
when they’d first met. She’d seen it again today, several times during their
observation session. She knew the light in Maggie was genuine, but she hadn’t
realized what she was going through inside and she was surprised and honored
that Maggie had shared this internal struggle with her. Maggie looked as
surprised by her revelations as Tam felt. Tam stuck her notebook and the vials
in her pants pocket and moved closer to Maggie. She cradled Maggie’s face in
her hands and kissed her.

She meant it as an expression of sympathy and
of gratitude. Tam and her father were two of the people who were stealing part
of Maggie’s soul. Her father’s cancer was advanced, and they brought plenty of
family drama into the hospital ward. Tam wanted to thank Maggie in some way and
apologize in another. She thought a tender kiss would convey what she was
feeling more than words could do.

Tam didn’t expect the reaction she had to the
kiss. She was giving it away, offering it to Maggie, but she was the one who
received an infusion of energy and heat. Standing thigh deep in pond water,
wearing rubber waders that left her feet chilled and her legs sweaty, Tam was
too uncomfortable to feel desire. Or so she thought. She opened her mouth at
the gentle pressure from Maggie’s tongue, and suddenly her world exploded. Her
discomfort, the setting, and the reality of the hospital ward faded away as
Maggie wrapped her arms around Tam’s neck and pressed her body close. Tam
gripped Maggie’s hips and groaned at the sweet onslaught of Maggie’s tongue.
She broke away long enough to kiss Maggie’s neck from her shoulder to a spot
just behind Maggie’s ear that seemed to drive her crazy.

Back to her mouth. The delicious scratch of
Maggie’s short nails on her scalp. A thigh pressed between her legs and resting
snugly against the crotch of her pants. If they hadn’t been standing in the
water, they’d be on the ground now with clothes coming off. Tam stepped back
too fast and slipped, almost falling on her ass in the pond.

Maggie reached out to steady her, with a hand
under each of Tam’s elbows. Even the non-intimate touch rubbed Tam’s nerves
raw.

“I didn’t expect…” Tam hadn’t expected any of
this. Her father’s letter, his revelations, her own crazy relocation to be near
him, or her conflicting refusal to spend time with him. Even more bewildering
was Maggie. From the moment Tam had seen her smile, she’d been hooked. Their
situation had forced a closeness Tam had welcomed at first, but now it was
moving too fast.

Tam shook her head. She and Maggie had shared
personal information because of their circumstances—Maggie was helping her work
through the issues with her father and the transplant process. But Tam had a
feeling she’d have melted into Maggie’s kiss the same way if they’d met
casually at a bar or mall. Sickness and doubts and guilt surrounded them, but
the only reality that mattered was taking place between the two of them.
Separate from everything and everyone else.

The realization struck Tam as hard as the
kiss had. She’d be better able to cope if she could explain away her feelings
for Maggie as the by-product of her emotional reunion with her father, but she
couldn’t.

Tam stepped away again, more carefully this
time. She wondered if Maggie could somehow read her thoughts, because her
expression seemed to grow distant while Tam’s mind was trying to do the same
thing.

“The situation between us is complex,” Maggie
said slowly, as if choosing her words carefully. “I think this would be a good
time to take a step back. Put some space between us while we sort through our
feelings. Separately.” Maggie paused. “On our own.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Tam said. Why was she
annoyed by the
I need
space
speech when she had been about to give the same one to Maggie?
“Look, I’ve got enough samples from this location. Why don’t I drive you back
to your car and you can have all the separation you need.”

“Tam, wait,” Maggie said, splashing after her
as she walked away. “The kiss was wonderful. You are wonderful. I’m just not
ready—”

Tam stopped and held up her hand. “I get it,
Maggie. I don’t want to get too involved any more than you do. Just spare me
the clichés.”

Maggie nodded, her eyes red as if she was
holding back tears. Tears of what? Pity for Tam? Regret over the kiss? Or
sadness because neither of them had been ready for the fire they ignited
between them? Tam wasn’t sure. She turned and walked back to her car.

*

Maggie tapped on the plate-glass window of
the Beachcomber Bookstore and waved at her twin sister Jocelyn, who was setting
up a display in the front case. Jocelyn smiled and extricated herself from the
book-filled dormer while Maggie opened the door and went inside. Jocelyn came
over and gave her a big hug. She had been kneeling in the cramped window space,
baked by the heat of the sun coming through the glass, but she somehow looked
as if she’d just hopped out of the shower and into a designer outfit. Her
pinstripe oxford shirt was neatly pressed and unbuttoned enough at the neck to
show the curved neckline of a perfectly white tank. Her beige slacks were
creased and tidy. In comparison, Maggie felt like something that had recently
crawled out of a swamp. Which she had. Her jeans felt glued to her legs after
hours in rubber waders, and she’d barely managed to make her red curls look
presentable after Tam’s hands had been tangled in them.

The thought of their kiss brought flames to
Maggie’s cheeks and she fanned herself with her hand, hoping to throw her
too-perceptive sister off the scent of a juicy story.

“It’s warm out there in the sun. It feels
good to be inside.”

Jocelyn wrinkled her brow. “Yeah, it must be
at least…what? Sixty-five degrees out there? A real heat wave.”

“Mm-hmm.” Maggie wandered toward the counter
where her sister always kept a full pot of coffee. “The store looks great, by
the way. Ready for the tourist season.”

She poured herself a cup of coffee and dumped
heaping scoops of sugar and creamer in it before wandering to one of the endcap
displays. She avoided looking over at her silent sister and instead studied the
display. Stacks of Jocelyn’s girlfriend’s books were pleasingly arranged, and
each one had an autographed-by-author sticker on it. “You must keep Ari busy
every night signing books.”

“Among other things,” Jocelyn said in a
self-satisfied voice. Maggie looked at her in surprise and Jocelyn shrugged
with a big grin. “What? Haven’t you seen someone in love before?”

“Never you and never this much love,” Maggie
said. She put down her coffee and went over to hug Jocelyn again. “I love
knowing you’re happy.”