A Woman Lost (29 page)
Authors: T. B. Markinson
Tags: #Romance, #Lesbian, #Fiction, #LGBT, #(v5.0), #Family & Relationships
“So, down the road you may move?” Sarah stared at me earnestly.
“I don’t know, Sarah.” Having Maddie there helped me open up. Her candor and point-blank questions made me feel good, for once, about answering Sarah honestly. I was finally tired of hiding behind bravado. My family had hurt me so many times that I had started to lie about my feelings to everyone. To Sarah. To Maddie. To Ethan. And to myself. I was like an iceberg, with ninety percent of my real feelings submerged so no one would know how vulnerable I truly felt. I lied so much, and so often, that even I didn’t know my true feelings anymore.
“No I don’t plan on moving away.” I looked at Sarah. “Who knows what next year will bring? But right now, I want to stay put. I have some shit to work out.”
Sarah continued staring into my eyes for what seemed like an eternity. Then the muscles in her face relaxed and she looked at peace. “So, ladies, I am in the mood to shop,” she said.
Maddie readily agreed, so I settled the bill and the three of us hit the main street of tourist shops. Most charged exorbitant prices for a Hanes T-shirt with some stupid slogan like “Don’t Feed the Bears” and depicting a bear holding the sign with the word “Don’t” crossed out, but I didn’t even mind.
We wandered from store to store, laughing and giggling the whole time. That evening, we had a fancy dinner and stopped at a candy store on the way to the hotel to splurge on homemade fudge. Sarah picked out five different flavors and five pounds of fudge in total. I also bought her some chocolate-covered strawberries, which she had always liked. I couldn’t remember ever having bought her any before.
Then we sat in the hotel room drinking wine and eating fudge until shortly after midnight, when we all collapsed with full bellies.
Maddie slept in a single bed, and Sarah and I shared. We both changed separately in the bathroom and then crawled under the covers, both aware of the excessive space between us in the bed.
I reached out and took Sarah’s hand. She didn’t pull it away.
That was the best day of my life.
* * *
On Monday afternoon, I drove Sarah and Maddie to Rose’s house. Sarah had arranged for Maddie’s parents to drop off her stuff and her car, and all the junk that didn’t fit was put into a storage unit. I marveled at how wonderful Maddie’s parents were. Not only did they not mind helping out, they actually wanted to help.
Her dad was flying out on the red-eye to get back to work, but her mom was going to stay for at least a week. Maddie wanted to have dinner with both of her folks before her dad left town, so she rushed inside to change.
Sarah sat in the car with me for a moment.
“Does she know where she’s going in the house?” I asked.
Sarah laughed. “Yes. Mom and I had her over for dinner a few times.” She paused. “You aren’t the only one who had secrets.” Her voice sounded triumphant, cunning even. It was sexy.
I laughed. I wanted to say, “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” But I didn’t. We said our goodbyes and I watched her saunter into the house. She stopped at the door, turned, and waved goodbye. I waved back and sat in the driveway, staring at the door she had just walked through and envisioning myself running through the door, scooping her up and kissing her. I really wanted to kiss her.
Telling myself not to be stupid, I grabbed my cell phone and dialed her number. She didn’t answer. I closed my cell phone.
Don’t be stupid, Lizzie
.
I dialed again. Still no answer. I left a voicemail saying I would really like to take her to dinner sometime.
Then I hung up and sat in her driveway, staring at my phone. She didn’t call back.
Later that night, I heard my cell phone vibrate on my nightstand. I rolled over in bed and read the message:
I’ll think about it.
Smiling, I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling. She’ll think about it. I petted Hank and told him the good news. He bit my hand, and I laughed.
“You will believe in me,” I said. “I’ll make her believe in me again.”
* * *
Two weeks passed before I received another text from Sarah. It simply read:
Pick me up Friday night at 7 p.m.
She didn’t ask if I was free. She didn’t even ask if I wanted to go. Her boldness turned me on.
I showed up promptly at five minutes to seven and waited in the car with the candy I had picked up for her. At one minute to seven, I got out and walked up the driveway. A slight breeze kicked up some dirt and I watched an empty Coke can blow casually in several different directions.
An urge to run overwhelmed me.
I stopped dead in my tracks.
A car drove by and smashed the Coke can into smithereens.
Chuckling at the timing, I conquered my need to run and continued my journey to the door.
I heard laughter behind the door.
Sarah opened the door. Maddie and Rose stood behind her, laughing.
“We weren’t sure you would get out of the car,” Maddie exclaimed.
I smiled. Then I handed Sarah the candy. She wore a tight T-shirt and jeans, and her body had never looked so good. She turned to take the candy into the kitchen. While she was gone, her mother said, “Don’t make me want to run you over with my car again.”
I stood there awkwardly, wanting to explain but not knowing how to, until Sarah came back and we excused ourselves.
“Where are we were going?” Sarah asked as we climbed into the car.
“I thought we would go to dinner in Denver and then catch a late movie. There’s a great foreign film theatre near the restaurant. I’ve heard good things about this French film playing there.”
Sarah was fluent in French and loved French films. We never saw them, though, since I didn’t like them.
“Really?” I detected excitement in her voice. “I thought for sure we would go to Phoy Doy again.”
I guessed she had seen through much of my bullshit in the past, when I had attempted to appease her without really trying.
I smiled at her. “I thought a change would be nice. You might be out late, though. Will your mom send a hit man?”
“Oh, Lizzie, it’s not Mom you have to worry about; it’s me.”
And she was right. It was her. It was finally all about her.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my partner, for everything.
Author’s Note
Thank you for reading
A Woman Lost.
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Acknowledgments
I would like to thank my editor, Karin Cox. I am extremely grateful for all the hours she spent hunting for all of my mistakes and for her wonderful suggestions on how to improve the final product. Thank you to my beta readers who assisted me in the early stages. Lastly, my sincerest thanks goes to my partner. Without her support and encouragement this novel would not exist. Thank you for believing in me. I don’t know where this road will take us, but I’m fortunate to have you by my side.
About the Author
T. B. Markinson is a 39-year old American writer, living in England, who pledged she would publish her first novel before she was 35. Better late than never. When she isn’t writing, she’s travelling around the world, watching sports on the telly, visiting pubs in England, or taking the dog for a walk. Not necessarily in that order.
A Woman Lost
is her debut novel.
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