The Right Time (26 page)

The logs caught and began to glow, the heat of the blaze warming them just enough to make being out in the fifty degree, windy day tolerable. As the fire settled down and stopped sparking, Hennessy dug out a bit of sand for a seat, mounded up some more for her back, placed another blanket over the spot and sat down. “Wanna use me for a backrest?” she asked, smiling up at Townsend’s pleased expression.

“Done deal.”

Townsend sat, then nestled between her legs, leaning against her like a cozy sofa. “Nice,” she purred.

“Warm enough?”

“I am now. A nice, big fire, a nice, big girlfriend. What more could a woman want?”

“I choose a nice, big fire with a slightly smaller girlfriend. I like having you fit against me like this.”

“Agreed. Let’s stay exactly like this, right here, forever.”

They sat on the blanket and gazed into the dancing flames, the smell of burning hickory strong and sweet. Hennessy had to keep reminding herself this was okay, this didn’t have to lead anywhere right then. She snuggled in, letting her body get used to being close.

“I’ve been thinking about something you said yesterday,” Hennessy said, afraid of bringing up the topic, but knowing it would stick with her if she didn’t. “You don’t have to talk about this if it upsets you, but I wondered about the comment you made about being the girl that the boys all wanted to…date.”

A hard, weary expression settled on Townsend’s face. “Fuck. They didn’t want to date me. Why waste money on a girl if she’ll do anything and everything for free?”

“I uhm…I don’t even pretend to know much about this…but why were you sleeping with boys? I thought you were gay.”

Townsend burrowed deeper against Hennessy’s body. It took her a few minutes to respond, but Hennessy waited patiently. “I don’t know what I was,” Townsend eventually said. “I guess I was just lonely. That’s my main memory of childhood. Being alone.”

“But why? Where were your friends?”

“I didn’t have many. My mom sold her first book when I was pretty young. I’m not great on dates, but I think it was a year or two after my dad left. After that, she was either working or traveling.”

“But you stayed home?”

“Usually. Especially once I started school.”

Hennessy tried to make this all make sense. But it didn’t. She didn’t know many rich kids, but they seemed to always be doing something or going somewhere. “Why didn’t you have school friends?”

“Mmm, we lived pretty far out, too far away from any of the kids in my class for them to walk over to my house.” She shrugged. “My mom didn’t arrange play dates or take her turn driving kids around, so the other moms didn’t want to drag their kids to my house. We just kind of got…shut out.”

“Who watched you when she was gone?”

“Some employee. We went through a load of ’em. My mom drove ’em nuts with her crazy schedule. It was hard to find somebody who wanted to watch me for two or three weeks at a time without a day off, then stay up for twenty-four hours when my mom was on one of her writing binges.”

“Poor you,” Hennessy soothed, hugging her closer. “I’m surprised you didn’t have a babysitter or a nanny or something. Someone just for you.”

“No. I don’t think I ever had one…but maybe I did when I was real little. Of course, as I got older, I wouldn’t stand for anyone supervising me.” She chuckled, a little of her fiendish self showing. “Maybe it wasn’t just my mom’s schedule that scared off the help.”

“Things would have been better if you’d had a friend or two. I didn’t have many, but the ones I got came from clubs I was in.”

Townsend turned her head and showed a wry smile. “I’m not a joiner. I didn’t want to take music lessons or join any school clubs or play team sports.” She laughed softly. “Nothing seems stupider to me than running after a ball.”

“Too many rules.”

“Damn straight. I learned how to ride horses when I went to stay with my grandparents, and I loved that, but I didn’t do much at home. Everyone I knew took ballet lessons or played golf or was trying to make the school tennis team. It was one of those schools jammed full of kids with helicopter parents. By fifth grade they all were talking about how to get into Harvard or MIT.”

“Your mom didn’t hover?”

“We weren’t in the same air space,” she said, shaking her head. “So everybody but me was involved in something. Even the nerds didn’t want me, since I didn’t like any of the same things they did. I was alone, but I wasn’t a loner. It sucked.”

“But you’re so much fun. I’d think you’d have dozens of friends.”

Townsend was quiet for a minute, and Hennessy let her attention drift off to the fire, which was burning perfectly. She could already taste the shrimp and the squid she’d bought. The sausage would add the perfect bit of spiciness.

When Townsend spoke again, Hennessy was pulled from her reverie, but she listened closely.

“There were kids I liked—and I played with them at recess and stuff, but they were all involved in so many things they didn’t have time to hang out after school.” She turned to meet Hennessy’s eyes. “Boston’s a very competitive place. Parents don’t give their kids any unstructured time.”

“That was grade school, right?”

“Uh-huh. It was in high school when things got really bad. A couple of girls in my class were real assholes and they picked on me from the first day.” She shrugged. “Maybe it was because my mom was famous. She’d just signed on to make one of her most popular books into a movie and there was a ton of gossip about who they were going to cast. I got harassed constantly.”

“That movie was a big deal,” Hennessy agreed. “I remember all of the girls in my class talking about seeing it dozens of times.”

“Yeah. It made her a ton of money and made me a pariah. Nice tradeoff.”

“Was this a local high school?”

“No, a prep school for rich assholes. It was in Boston, a longish drive. I was the only one from my grade school who went there.”

“You must have been so lonely,” Hennessy soothed, nuzzling her face against Townsend’s neck.

“Mad. I was mad,” Townsend growled. That anger was so accessible. And so destructive. “In eighth grade I looked like a little girl. Over the summer my breasts grew and my hips filled out. A couple of guys started to notice me.”

“Did you want to be noticed? By boys, I mean.”

“Didn’t matter,” she said softly. “I wanted someone…anyone to notice me. I was outside one day, and the bitchy girls were harassing me about something. A couple of cool guys came over and watched for a minute.” She laughed, and a note of pride made Hennessy prepare for something bad. “I took off after the bitchiest girl and took a swing at her. Knocked her right on her butt. She ran away, crying like a little jerk, and I stayed and talked to the boys. One of them—Derek—asked me if I wanted to hang out after school.” The bragging tone vanished, replaced by a whisper-soft voice. Hennessy had to turn her head to hear. “God knows I didn’t have good boundaries; I guess I never have. I got into a car full of guys and went to Derek’s house. We drank a couple of shots of Jäger and…I had sex with him.”

“Damn.” Hennessy had been holding her breath, knowing something bad was coming. “You were just a freshman?”

“Uh-huh.” She took Hennessy’s arms and tucked them more firmly around herself. “I’d barely had a sexual thought up to that point. But I got an advanced education in no time at all.”

“I’m so sorry,” Hennessy whispered.

“I hated it. It hurt like hell and made me feel…invisible. I can’t explain it any better. A guy is lying on you, pounding away while you just try to disappear. It wasn’t rape, since I never said ‘no,’ but they felt like rapists. They got me drunk and used my body to get off.”

“Goddamn, Townsend. Didn’t anyone notice? Couldn’t your mom tell something was going on?”

“Fuck no. She was out in LA for weeks at a time.” She let out a laugh, the one, Hennessy now recognized, that signaled thoughts of a reckless or dangerous time. “I was sick of having strangers supervising me, so I called the agency and fired the latest babysitter. Those people are so stupid! How could you believe a kid calling to fire the hired help?”

Hennessy shook her head, wishing Townsend had been a little less smart, a little less resourceful.

“Once she was gone I’d invite people over after school. You can guess what happened.”

Hennessy shivered as she thought of a classmate. Every once in a while a bunch of kids went over to Melody Hart’s house after school, then spent the whole next day talking about what trouble they’d gotten into.

Her cheeks grew hot as she thought of how she’d pointedly avoided Melody because of the gossip, going so far as to request a new lab partner for biology class. Given what she’d heard, Townsend’s parties were a hell of a lot worse—yet she felt only sympathy for her.

She tucked her arms more fully around Townsend’s body and nuzzled her face against her neck. Being close let her focus on their bond and let her protective instincts surge. Had she been too harsh with Melody, or too lenient with Townsend? Life wasn’t as black and white as it had seemed just a year or two ago.

A detail came to mind. Someone’s mom had found out about the parties, and they’d come to an abrupt end. Hennessy put her lips to Townsend’s chilled ear and blew warmth over it for a few seconds. “Why didn’t anyone notice?”

“I don’t know,” she said slowly, probably thinking that over for the first time. “We had a lot of property. I guess no one was annoyed enough to call the cops.”

“Was that when you started to drink?”

Her head nodded slowly, soft, fine blonde hair tickling Hennessy’s nose as it did. “The Jäger I drank to black out enough to have sex was the first alcohol I’d ever had.”

Hennessy let that thought float around in her head for a minute. A thousand things could have stopped the boulder from picking up speed. A neighbor calling the police, one of the kids’ moms getting involved, Townsend’s mother paying the slightest bit of attention. Anything could have helped. But no one cared enough to look after a frightened little girl heading for a cliff.

Townsend’s voice was soft and contemplative. The way she spoke gave Hennessy the feeling she’d rarely or never talked about this before.

“After that first time, I
had
to drink. I had to get high enough to be able to fuck guys I barely knew and didn’t particularly like.”

“You poor thing,” Hennessy soothed, tightening her hold around her waist.

She wrenched away and turned to face Hennessy, with the wind blowing her hair straight back, highlighting the hatred in her eyes—hatred for herself. “I got what I deserved.”

“That’s not true,” Hennessy whispered fiercely. “You were a girl. Not even close to being a woman yet. Those guys used you like a toy.”

“Because I let them. No guy is going to turn down free pussy.”

“A decent guy would. At least I think he would.” She slumped down against her homemade beach chair, her ignorance making her say things she had no way of proving. “I don’t know enough about guys to know what they’d do. I guess that’s another reason I stayed away from them.”

“I should have. Getting pregnant made everything worse. It was like tossing gas onto a fire. The process accelerated faster than I could keep up with.”

“You couldn’t get a foot out to stop the runaway car.”

“Given the way my luck was going, if I had gotten a foot out, it would have been ripped off. It was all going by too fast.”

Hennessy got busy after that sad little discussion. She’d heard enough tragic stories for one day and needed to keep her hands moving to stop thinking about them. After putting the rest of the logs on the fire, she filled the pot up with the water she’d brought, then started tossing things inside.

Whole new potatoes splashed into the water, then she opened a little bag of seasoning and sprinkled it around. “If you’re gonna do this right, you really should have soft-shell crab and fresh corn on the cob. But you can’t get either at Christmas.”

“This is suspiciously like a crab boil,” Townsend said. “I think you guys swiped this from us.”

“No way!” Hennessy declared. “This is Low Country Boil. I
know
you don’t use Andouille sausage in New England.” She took out a tin of Old Bay Seasoning and added a hefty amount.

“Old Bay?” Townsend said, raising an eyebrow. “Which bay do you think that comes from? Massachusetts,” she declared. “I bet it says so right on the label.”

Hennessy held the tin close, acting like she was reading it. “Made for Low Country Boil, also known as Frogmore Stew, from local spices and herbs found exclusively in the most beautiful place on earth. Charleston Bay.” She turned to Townsend and shrugged. “Sorry.”

“I never knew you to lie so blatantly,” Townsend said. “I like it. Maybe some of my skills are finally rubbing off on you.”

Hennessy pulled a plastic bag over and stuck her hand inside. “A little bit of your home state has rubbed off on me.” She held up a big Wellfleet oyster. “I love our local oysters, but yours are bigger. I thought you’d appreciate a few for our Christmas feast.”

“Let me at ’em,” Townsend cooed. “Hope you brought an oyster knife.”