The Lonely Hearts Club (13 page)

“Yeah, let’s hope.” Sean shifted sideways on the bench and rested her chin on her knee. “How’s your head?”

“You dumped me on my ass, which hurts. My head is fine. How’s your jaw?”

“Stings.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be, you did me a favor. I’ll be looking for that counter in the future.”

“In that case, you’re welcome,” Reilly said.

“I don’t remember ever seeing you with a date,” Sean said after a minute of silence.

“You haven’t.”

“I just always figured you were a lesbian because you’re too good looking not to be.”

Reilly laughed and Sean joined her. “Thanks.”

Sean continued to regard her thoughtfully and Reilly knew she was waiting for her. She appreciated that Sean wasn’t pushing. “I’m not much into dating.”

“Confirmed bachelor?”

“No, just a wary one.”

“I was married once, to a guy,” Sean said.

“Really. I never would’ve thought that.”

“Neither would I, looking back from where I am now.”

“You and Drew just seem like you’ve always been together.”

Sean’s expression softened. “When I got divorced, I really wasn’t looking for anything, or anyone. I certainly wasn’t looking for a woman, even though my twin sister’s gay.”

“That might have been a clue,” Reilly said dryly.

“You think so?” Sean chuckled. “Well, then I met Drew. Actually, I
saw
Drew, and that was about it for me.”

“So you think this love at first sight thing can happen?” Reilly considered her first night with Annie. It hadn’t been love, it had been lust. No, more than lust…a compulsion, a need so fierce she hadn’t been able to do anything but follow.
Moth to a flame.

“Instant attraction? Sure. Love? I don’t know, I think so sometimes—the beginnings of it anyway,” Sean mused. “It wasn’t just that I thought she was gorgeous, which I do, but the first time I saw her was here. I watched her training for two hours, and by the time the night was over I was hooked.”

“If you watch Drew train you can tell a lot about her,” Reilly said.

“Yes. And everything else I imagined about her was true.”

“You’re lucky.”

“I am.”

Reilly looked at the ceiling. “I was with a woman for three years and most of the things I thought I knew about her turned out not to be true.”

“She lied to you?”

“No, not really. She just didn’t tell me things.” Reilly gazed back at Sean. “And I didn’t pick it up, or maybe I didn’t want to. Either way, I was partly responsible.”

“For what?” Sean asked gently.

Her death,
Reilly thought. “It not working out.”

“Feeling gun-shy?”

Reilly grimaced. “I wouldn’t have said so a few weeks ago. I was pretty content with the way my life was going. I wasn’t looking for anything.”

“And then something shook it up.”

“Someone.” Reilly sighed. “I’m not sure what I’m doing, and the timing sucks.”

Sean laughed. “Like I said, that sounds about right. The redhead I saw you with after the game?”

“Yes. Liz.”

“She’s nice looking.”

“She’s gorgeous.”

Sean laughed again. “True, but I was trying not to sound shallow. So are you dating?”

“No. I’m not sure I’m going to be seeing her again at all.” Reilly stood up and stowed the sparring gear in the cabinet. “Thanks for the workout. And for…listening.”

“Any time. And thanks for punching me in the face.”

“Any time.”

Reilly changed back into her street clothes, said goodbye to Sean, and headed down to her car. The workout had been rough, mentally and physically. She was tired and sore. But not tired enough or sore enough to have calmed the unrest stirred by Liz’s kiss.

*

Candace, wearing a tight pink T-shirt, baggy jeans, and strap-sandals, flopped onto the nearly threadbare sofa in front of the open windows in Bren’s West Philadelphia Victorian and propped her feet up on the steamer trunk that stood in for a coffee table. She’d arrived with her blond curls still damp from the shower half an hour after Bren had called.

“God,” Candace sighed, balancing a glass of wine on her stomach. “Sometimes I wish I still lived here. I think I might have had some of the best sex of my life on this sofa.”

“Thank you for that image,” Bren said, curling up with a cup of coffee in an equally worn armchair across from the sofa. It wasn’t yet noon and a bit early for her and wine. She had changed out of her holey sweats into a decent pair before Liz had arrived, but hadn’t bothered with shoes.

“Well it’s no secret,” Candace scoffed. “You walked in on me in the throes enough times.”

“I kept my eyes closed.” Bren grinned mischievously. “Most of the time.”

Sometimes, Bren agreed with Candace about turning back the clock. The three of them had rented the house for four years until Liz and Candace could afford to move into their own places. Bren had purchased the house then and renovated it to suit her needs. She’d kept some of their old furniture for her office, a tall-ceilinged room with walnut floors and deep bay windows, a fireplace on one wall, and a view of the brick-walled rear garden. She made enough money from her book royalties that she could have re-furnished the entire house, but she didn’t want to. The office, where she slipped into another world to write and dream, was her sanctuary and her favorite room in the whole house. Sometimes she’d look up from her computer, expecting to see Candace wrapped up in her latest flame on the sofa and Liz bent over a lawbook, a glass of red wine in one hand. Seeing the empty room always hurt a little until she remembered they would always be there.

“Some memories never go away,” Bren teased.

Carrying a glass of iced tea, Liz sat down next to Candace and nudged her with her knee. “And you still hog the couch. Move over.”

Candace shifted an inch and patted Liz’s thigh. “So let’s hear it. I can’t imagine how you managed to get yourself into trouble since we just saw you…” She glanced at her Piaget. “Thirteen hours ago.”

“I won’t ask what
you’ve
been doing for the last thirteen hours,” Liz grumbled.

“I’ll be happy to tell you. In detail. But you first.”

“You don’t have to tell us,” Bren cut in. “You’ve got a love bite on your neck.”

“I don’t. God damn it. Where? I
told
her not to…” Candace broke off, her eyes narrowing as she lasered in on Bren. “That is not funny, Brenda Louise.”

“Sorry.” Bren glanced apologetically at Liz. “So what happened?”

Candace had made Liz promise on the phone not to say anything until she arrived, and the wait hadn’t helped Liz clear up her confusion. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Okay,” Candace said brightly. “Let’s start with rough and rowdy Reilly. Would that be a good guess?”

“She isn’t.” Liz thought of how Reilly always seemed to know exactly what she needed without her even asking. Without her even knowing, sometimes. “She’s tender and thoughtful.” At Candace’s raised eyebrows, Liz said, “I mean it. She’s a lot more gentle than she looks.”

When Candace feigned a yawn, Bren kicked the bottom of her foot. “Cut it out.”

“Okay, sorry. Sorry,” Candace said, looking not the least bit chagrined. “But really—with the way she came on last night? All sweaty and aggressive and competitive?”

“She is,” Liz said, “but that’s not all she is.” She sipped her tea and added quietly, “This morning she kissed me.”

“Wow,” Bren said, genuinely surprised.

“Really,” Candace said coolly. “And just how did that come about.”

“Cand,” Bren said with a bit of heat in her voice, “do you think you can be quiet long enough for Liz to tell us?”

Candace shot her a look, but obediently pressed her lips together.

“After breakfast I—”

“You spent the night with her?” Candace shot upright.

“No,” Liz said patiently. “I drove her home last night because she had too much to drink. When I offered to bring her back to her car this morning, she wanted to take me out to breakfast. Are you with me so far?”

Candace made a hurry up motion with her hand.

“Well, that’s it really. I drove her to her car and she kissed me.” Liz shrugged. “I guess it really isn’t that big of a deal.”

“Except for the fact that you hardly know her,” Bren pointed out reasonably.

“And she’s not your type,” Candace added quickly.

“And you just broke up with Julia—the bitch,” Bren chimed in.

“And you’re pregnant,” Candace said darkly.

Liz sighed. “Okay. Reasonable points.”

She pulled her legs up onto the old, nappy sofa and curled her arms around them. Resting her cheek against her knees, she wished she were back in law school, still living here, when everything had seemed so critical but in retrospect had been far simpler than she’d ever realized. Candace had been fresh-faced and so filled with life and spirit that even when she was breaking hearts, including her own, Liz couldn’t help but love her. Bren had always been there, sturdy and solid and strong. She was the rock, despite being the smallest of all of them in size. And Liz had known just what she wanted in life. A career, a partner, a family. It had never occurred to her that the things she wanted would be at odds.

“Was it a good kiss?” Candace asked grudgingly.

“Terrific,” Liz muttered.

“Do you like her?” Bren asked

“Yes.” That was one thing Liz was certain of. She knew there were things about Reilly she didn’t know, almost certainly important things. Things about Annie, for sure. Whenever Reilly spoke of her something dark, something more than the pain of loss, surfaced in her eyes. But even though Liz knew there were secrets, she trusted her.

“Let’s look at this logically,” Bren suggested.

“Have you ever considered that kind of approach might be the reason you never accept a date?” Candace said. “There’s nothing logical about lust. You see, you want, ergo, you screw.”

Liz laughed wryly and Bren smiled.

“That’s your formula,” Bren replied. “Some of us actually think about things like who and why and what happens the next day.”

Candace tilted her head contemplatively. “That sounds a lot like pouring cold water on flames to control a fire. If you’re not careful, all you end up with is ashes.”

“Maybe.” Bren couldn’t disagree too strongly, because she had a feeling under the right circumstances she just might take Candace’s route. If she’d had the opportunity to take the blonde’s place in the bathroom a few nights before, if she could have been the nameless woman dictating her needs, controlling the events, she would have done it.

“You know,” Liz said wearily, “I wish I could be more like you, Cand. I actually even thought about you this morning, when I was kissing Reilly and what I really wanted to do was tear her clothes off—or have her tear off mine. I knew you would do it, and love it, and I wished I could too.”

“You wanted to tear her clothes off?” Candace sounded stunned.

Liz nodded. “For a few seconds, yeah. I did. God, she’s got a beautiful mouth.”

“Uh-oh,” Bren murmured.

“What?” Liz said, turning to Bren.

“I never heard you say anything like that about Julia.”

“Sure I did. When we first met. I said she was hot and sexy and—”

“No you didn’t,” Bren and Candace said simultaneously.

“Well, I’m sure I meant to.”

Candace ran the tip of her open-toed sandal up and down Liz’s calf. “You did used to say that I had a great tongue.”

Liz almost said that every woman in Philadelphia could probably testify to Candace’s skills, but held back because she knew what very few others ever realized. Underneath Candace’s seductive bravado, some part of that insecure farm girl still remained, and Liz would never hurt her.

“In the positive column,” Bren interjected, “what do we have besides the fact that she’s…ah…got a beautiful mouth.” Silently, she contemplated the phrase and found it perfect. She couldn’t wait to find a place for it in her next chapter.

“She looks really good when she sweats,” Candace supplied helpfully.

“She’s smart and listens and…” Liz laughed. “She turns me on.”

“Debit column?”

Liz sighed. “I just came out of a long, complicated, unsatisfying relationship with Julia, and that’s not even really over. And of course,” she placed her hand on her abdomen and smiled crookedly, “there’s the little matter of Junior or Junior-ess.”

“So what do we have,” Bren said thoughtfully. “You’re attracted to her but there are complications.” She glanced at Liz’s hand where it still lay on Liz’s belly. “That pretty much changes everything, doesn’t it?”

“It certainly does,” Liz admitted.

“What are you going to do?” Bren asked.