The Right Time (48 page)

Stunned, Hennessy watched her go. From a tiny ember, her anger flared to life, weakening her knees. Townsend hadn’t mentioned her letter, her desire to talk about the changes
she’d
made, or the gold medallion that hung around her beautiful neck.

Right before she was about to fall asleep, Hennessy’s phone rang. She hadn’t used it all year. Not once. But she kept it charged, waiting on her desk for the Sunday night calls that never came. She’d given the number to her family, but they would have had to be in a crisis for any of them to call…

Heart hammering, she grabbed it and hit the “speak” button. “Hello?”

“What an asshole I am!”

It clearly wasn’t Gramma. Hennessy sat up and punched a pillow to make a backrest. “You could have written to say that.” Her eyes were itchy and swollen from crying, her throat sore. Robyn had come into the room, then left the second she’d finished using the bathroom. She was a good friend, but even the best of friends didn’t want to watch you sulk and moan all night.

“Couldn’t let it rest. There was a chance you’d go to bed without seeing an email.” She took in a breath. “I had you right in my hot little hands and didn’t thank you for my medallion. I
love
it, Hennessy. Truly love it. And I love you for giving it to me.”

Just like a salve on a bad burn, those words soothed her soul. “I was happy to. I’m glad you like it.”

“I’ll wear it forever, just to show you how much.”

“Uhm…” She didn’t want to know, but politeness required she ask. “How’s Jenna?”

“I don’t know what in the hell happened, but she seemed close to normal when I got back to the room. She’s not completely over whatever was bugging her, since I caught her staring at me with a very puzzled look on her face when she didn’t know I was looking, but at least she’s talking to me.”

“Something must have freaked her out.”

“Yeah, the Kennedy kids have been behaving themselves for quite a few years now, so I’m the island pariah now. It sucks,” she said. “I can’t believe I used to be proud to see people cross the street so they didn’t have to walk next to me. I want to be liked now, but I guess I don’t deserve to be.”

Hennessy’s hackles rose. No one got away with talking Townsend down. Not even Townsend. “Don’t talk like that. People can change, and everyone loves to see a young person rehabilitate herself. Over time, they’re going to start liking you. It’s impossible not to like you when you let someone know you.”

“Thanks. You’re damned good for my ego.”

“You’ve got an adorable ego. It just needs a little propping up once in a while.”

“Thanks for always being there to do that when I need it.”

“I always will be, Townsend. I love you.”

“Love you too. Now, get to sleep. I know you’re an early riser.”

“Okay. G’night.” Hennessy put the phone away, but she couldn’t stop the ache that had settled in her heart. There was a big difference between “Love you too,” and “I love you.” One was specific, one was a little vague. And that vagueness was about to tear her apart.

Townsend pushed her way
up a steep hill, sweat dripping down to sting her eyes. Sunblock made it worse, but she was spending so much time outside she would have been burned to a crisp if she didn’t apply it religiously.

Thoughts of a gorgeous tanned woman started to creep in, and she mashed down on the pedals, thighs burning. The only way to keep Hennessy out of her mind was to be outside, preferably doing something difficult. Since this was the biggest hill in the area, it got her attention at least once a day. She’d know it like the back of her hand by the time school started, if her heart didn’t explode first.

Jenna was just walking into the building when Townsend returned, hot, wet and grimy. “How far did you go today?” she asked, shifting her book bag over to her other shoulder.

She looked like she’d just gotten off the school bus, her sandy bob and pink cheeks making her look younger than nineteen.

“Don’t know.” Townsend hefted the bike onto her shoulder and waited for Jenna to open the door. The apartment wasn’t great, but it was better than being in Weston for the summer. When Jenna had decided to take a full load of summer school courses, Townsend jumped at the chance to stay in town and share a place. “I was gone for about two hours, but I don’t have a trip computer. I guess I should get one.”

Huffing her way up the narrow stairs, Townsend leaned against the wall as Jenna pulled her keys from her shorts and slid the lock open. “Better put that down before you fall,” she said, stepping out of the way quickly to allow Townsend to pass.

“It’s down,” she said, bending over to catch her breath. Her legs were hot and slick, gritty from road dust. “If you need the bathroom, catch it now. I’m gonna get in the shower and stay until I’ve cooled off. Might take all night.”

“I don’t need it.” Jenna stood in front of Townsend and held out her hands. “Let me help you get your shoes off.”

Feeling a little silly, Townsend complied, picking up a leg and holding it still while Jenna worked on the Velcro fasteners that were a little tricky. Gazing down at her, Townsend reminded herself that Jenna was simply the kind of person who got pleasure out of helping others, didn’t matter who. Old ladies struggling to put groceries in their cars, people with any form of physical disability, a guy at the diner who’d obviously forgotten his reading glasses. If someone was having a tough time, Jenna jumped to help, not seeming to mind when a mother rudely waved her away when she offered to help get a stroller into a huge SUV. She was the kind of person Christians claimed to be but seldom were.

Once her shoes were off, Townsend took them and tossed them into her room, grabbed some boxers and a tank top, then went for the shower. She’d just gotten the first layer of grime off when Jenna knocked on the door.

“Yeah?”

“I was going to make dinner,” she said. “Want some—”

“Come in,” Townsend called. “I can’t hear you.”

They were very respectful of each other’s privacy. But Jenna always seemed to want to talk when she was in the shower.

“Are you sure?” she asked, opening the door a crack.

“Yes. Get in here.” Politeness was nice, but sometimes it was a royal pain in the ass. But she carefully modulated her voice. Jenna was the last person she’d ever snap at. Living with her was very good practice for one day sharing a place with a normal person, the kind who’d throw something at you for snoring.

“Do you want to have dinner together?” she asked, sitting on the toilet and averting her gaze.

Since she wasn’t looking, Townsend could roll her eyes. They’d eaten together every single night. All of June. All of July. And now, half of August. The only people she knew were Jenna and Art and a bunch of people from her AA meeting, none of whom she’d ever socialized with. “Dinner together is a good idea. I’ll cancel that big bash I was going to throw.”

Tentatively, Jenna said, “You had a party—?”

“Teasing,” she said. “Just teasing.”

Her voice grew quieter. “I used to be able to tell when you’re teasing but now…”

Townsend couldn’t see her clearly, the fog and water sheeting down the glass obscuring her view, but she knew Jenna’s expression would be one of concern. She could hear it in her voice.

“Sorry I’ve been…whatever I’ve been,” she said, hoping to brush it off.

For once Jenna was tenacious. “What have you been?” She shifted her gaze and locked eyes, her expression so full of care Townsend almost lost it. But she’d cried enough at the top of the hill, and was running a little low.

“I’ve just got things on my mind.”

Townsend was sure she was going to accept that and take off. But Jenna stood and moved closer to the shower, her gaze never faltering. “You can tell me what’s on your mind. Anything that’s on your mind.”

She’d never been so forthright. Not even close. Townsend was so taken aback, her normal facade wasn’t in place. Before she could stop herself, she started to cry again. “Damn it,” she moaned. “I thought I’d gotten this out of my system.”

Jenna picked up a big, fluffy towel and held it up like a coat. Fumbling with the knobs, Townsend finally got them shut off and she opened the door. Then Jenna’s arms were around her, wrapping her in cotton and care, her arms tenderly circling Townsend’s waist. She was going to drip all over her, but Jenna didn’t seem to mind. Townsend let her head rest on Jenna’s shoulder as she cried her friggin’ eyes out.

It took a long time for the first wave to slow down. Jenna led her to their room, gently urged her to sit, then joined her, sitting so close Townsend could keep her head nestled on her shoulder. “I’ve got to stop this shit,” she muttered. “It’s driving me crazy.”

“Who is it?” she asked, her voice as soft and tender as a mother’s should have been. “Who’s made you so sad? Hennessy?”

Townsend’s head snapped up and she stared at her. Calm, open acceptance nearly glowed from Jenna’s sweet face. She knew!

“Yes. Hennessy. It’s always Hennessy,” she said, her eyes closing. “She finished with camp this week, and she’s leaving for Paris on the first. But instead of coming here or to Boston, she’s going to help her father for two weeks.”

“Does she love you as much as you love her?”

Townsend almost choked. They’d never talked about anything like this. Not even close. “I don’t know,” she forced herself to say, her brain so full of thoughts of Hennessy, she couldn’t think of Jenna’s reaction. Her head shook. “That’s not true. I know she loves me. But she’s…afraid of me.”

“Afraid of you?” She lifted the loose end of the towel and started to carefully pat it along Townsend’s dripping hair. “Who’d be afraid of you?”

“Hennessy is. And she’s got good reason to be.” She hoped Jenna took that on faith, because she didn’t want to get into too many details—her own or Hennessy’s.

Jenna’s eyes twitched as they moved around Townsend’s body, but never landed. “Because of your…past?”

“What do you know about my past?” Damn, if Jenna’d gone onto her computer and read some of the stories she’d written this summer, the authorities were gonna show up any minute.

She swallowed, looking more nervous than Townsend had ever seen her. “Uhm, when we were on the Vineyard, a woman told me some…stuff.” Her pink cheeks quickly turned fuchsia and her gaze slid to the floor.

“What stuff? Tell me. I can guess, of course. But I’d like to know.” It didn’t matter what you did, your past was always there—waiting to bite you on the ass.

“Well,” she swallowed again, like she had to exert a lot of pressure to get her own spit to go down. “She said you were with a lot of people. Sexually,” she added. “I got the feeling you’d made her mad or hurt her.”

Townsend slammed her eyes shut, unwilling to look at Jenna’s expression, which had to be filled with disgust. “I think I know who that was. Dark hair, tall, thin, kinda tough?”

“Yeah. She was definitely kinda tough.”

Townsend let out a breath, stood and tucked the towel around her body as she went back into the bath to put on her clothes. A minute later she returned, clad in pale blue boxers and a white tank. Since Jenna sat on her bed, she claimed Jenna’s.

“Okay,” she said, summoning all of her courage. “Here’s the deal. When I drank, I got involved with anyone who came along. That woman, Bettina, is a local. I went to her apartment once, and didn’t want to go again. She didn’t like that.” There was no way she was going to reveal Bettina was her grimy-fingered fister. She was taking that memory to the grave. Now that the worst was out, she focused on Jenna, who still looked skittish, but not disgusted.

“It freaked me out when she talked to me,” Jenna said quietly. “But I thought about it for a while and decided it wasn’t fair to hold things like that against you. Not when you were working so hard to stay sober.” Their eyes met again and Townsend was overwhelmed by the empathy she saw in Jenna’s gaze. “Your past is over. You don’t have to drag it along with you for the rest of your life. At least, not with me.”

“Oh, fuck, that’s a relief!” Townsend collapsed back onto the bed, feeling like a huge weight had been lifted from her.

“I’m jealous,” Jenna said, ripping her from her brief reverie. “Jealous that you have the guts to do something so brave.”

Lurching upright, Townsend stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

Those pretty eyes focused only on the floor, her cheeks still as pink as a sunset. “It must have been hard to…to be with a woman like that.”

“It wasn’t any big deal,” Townsend said, unsure of what in the hell was going on. Shit! Maybe Bettina told her about the fisting! But as she studied Jenna, she was sure she didn’t know the dirty details. There was no way she’d be so calm. “As long as I stayed out of jail, no one much cared what I did.” She laughed at her own words. “Actually, my mother didn’t much care if I was in jail, so I guess I didn’t need the first clause in that sentence.”

“Really?” She looked like she’d just learned the most amazing, yet preposterous thing she’d ever heard.

“Yeah. Really.” The air in the room crackled with unspoken secrets. Townsend was sure of that. And she wasn’t going to move until she pulled some out of Jenna. “You really think it’s brave to be gay? You’re kind of the last person I’d expect to hear that from.” When Jenna flashed a hurt look, Townsend rushed to finish her thought. “Just because of your religion. I know that’s not something you guys are into.”