Making a Comeback (28 page)

“I’m tired. We’re going home, but Kerri has another bar in mind. Why don’t you go with them?”

“Okay.” Liz was beat, but she needed some time away from Jac.

“Snorkeling again in the morning? Dad wants to take us to his favorite beach.”

“Sure.” She blocked out the memory of Jac in that suit as she sucked down the iced tea. The jukebox started up again. Bad eighties rock. Good. She ignored the stutter step her heart did when she remembered being in Jac’s arms. Three days and they’d be home.

*

Jac sat at the table on her parents’ deck. The middle of the night and it was quiet except for the faint sound of the ocean and the rustle of palm leaves. She turned her face into the warm, gentle breeze. Three more days of the tropical weather she’d always loved. Next week she’d be back to long pants and sweaters and water too cold to swim in. And Max. She missed his company and his steadiness.

That last dance. Carried away, she’d pulled Liz too close, lost in the feel and smell of her. Lovers, her body said. Thank God Liz left when she did. She’d been about to kiss her. Her sex contracted as arousal pulsed through her again. The cold shower, the self-administered orgasms, and she couldn’t shake it. The pilot light of longing she’d felt the last few months was a furnace of desire threatening to undo common sense. Liz would never be over Teri. Not in that way. She squeezed the arms of the chair until her knuckles ached. After Monterey she’d come back here. Some time away from Liz. The slider opened. Please don’t let it be Liz.

“Are you all right?”

“Fine, Mom. Couldn’t sleep.”

A chair scraped the deck beside her. “I’m glad you brought Liz over. I like her. She seems quite fond of you.”

“It’s nice to have a friend.”

“Looked like more than that on the dance floor. You never looked happy with Malcolm. With Liz…you look like you belong together.”

“There’s nothing romantic between us.” Jac hesitated and then said, “Except in my mind.” It felt good to be honest with her mom. Before the interview with Liz’s journalist friend, she’d told her parents everything. The affair with Maria. Her intent to divorce Malcolm. The events leading up to the accident. They’d been understanding and supportive…the best of parental love.

“You’re in love with her.”

Why had she thought she could hide it from her mom? She nodded and sadness swallowed the longing, putting it in its place.

“Have you told her?”

“She and her wife had the fairy-tale kind of love you and Dad have, Peg and Roger have. If she’s ever ready for another relationship, and that’s a big if, it won’t be anytime soon.” And it wouldn’t be with her. Liz saw her as a friend and confidant and collaborator.

“Do you want a relationship with her?”

“I don’t know.” That was the other issue. The last time she’d been in love, it had ended disastrously. Liz wasn’t Maria, but still…Did she have the courage to risk her heart again?

“Don’t let what happened with Maria cloud the present.” A long silence and then she said, “I’m so grateful you’ve let us back into your life.” Her mom’s voice cracked. “I’m so proud of you for doing the interview.”

Without naming Maria, she’d been honest with Liz’s friend about the circumstances of that night. All she’d put in the article was that Jac had left the hotel and gone to a lesbian bar. It made her wonder again where Maria was. She could probably find out, but she didn’t want to know. She’d never forgive Maria for how she’d treated her that night or for not coming to see her after the accident.

She wasn’t sure how she felt about the article. Relieved that she no longer had to hide. Uncomfortable about having to reveal personal details of her life. Surprised that the article had prompted more discussion about whether she was a lesbian and about whether she’d return to the stage than about the details of the accident. She’d always wish she’d made different choices that night, but Liz was right—she couldn’t bring Stephanie back by hiding away.

“Promise me you’ll come back often.”

“I promise.” Why had she cut herself off from everything and everyone all those years? Yes, she’d come back here with Max after Monterey and spend time with her parents.

Liz jerked the shower knob and cold water pelted her chest. Bad idea. Her nipples were overly sensitive. She covered them with her hands, sunburned skin tingling from the shock of the cold water. She’d woken up aroused and needed the unwanted feeling to go away. That damn dance Friday night. The memory of being in Jac’s arms kept ambushing her.

She spun around and cold water beat against her back. She shivered, but the knot of arousal wouldn’t go away. She put her hand between her legs and separated her labia. Wet. The thick, slippery kind of wet. Her clit tightened and a jolt of need flashed through her. No, no, no. Jac was gorgeous in her shorts and sleeveless blouses. She stroked. God, she needed to come. Jac in that swimsuit, rubbing in sunscreen with her long, elegant fingers. Her clit hardened under her fingers. Jac’s thigh pressing against her sex with each step on the dance floor. The agonizing tease of it. The need to pull it against her, to satisfy the ache. Stroked harder. What would Jac’s lips feel like on—

She plastered her palms to the tile wall. No, no, no. She was Teri’s. She was not going to come to visions of another woman’s touch. She ducked her head under the cold spray and waited for the torturous pulsing to subside. Damn Hannah and her tropical vacations. Tomorrow she’d be home in her condo where she belonged.

She dressed in the shorts and blouse she’d bought yesterday on the shopping trip with Hannah and Kerri. She stood at the window in the guest bedroom for a long time, watching the ocean take form out of the dawn—dark gray, then dark blue, and finally sparkling turquoise. Sunday. Her birthday. Thirty-three years old. She checked her watch. Almost the minute she was born. They’d always woken each other up at the moments they were born and made love. This time last year—No, it hurt too much to think about that.

She hurried to the kitchen for coffee. Everyone was on the deck. She joined them. Jac wore another colorful outfit, and her skin was a healthy pink from the sun. She should fasten another button on the blouse. “Wow, I’ve never seen a birthday candle in a…what is that?”

“Pineapple fritter,” Susan said. “You’ll want to ship a box home.”

“Oh. My. Gosh,” Liz said after the first bite.

“Picture,” Frank said, catching her with powdered sugar all over her mouth.

“How many Tommy Bahama shirts do you have?” Today’s was white with palm trees.

“He wore them all the time in Carmel. He was a local legend,” Jac said, the first thing she’d uttered. She looked tired. Was her back okay? Damn, she hadn’t bothered to ask. None of this was Jac’s fault.

“We vacationed in Hawaii for the first time when the girls were teenagers,” Susan said. “We had no idea we’d fall in love with the place or with scuba diving. You never know when something’s going to jump out and grab your heart.”

“Um, no, you don’t,” Liz said when Susan looked right at her.

“Ready for the best day of your life?” Frank asked.

No one would tell her what they were doing for her birthday. “Wasn’t that yesterday?” Snorkeling in the morning at a pristine beach. She’d seen hundreds of colorful fish and a sea turtle in crystal-clear water. Jac and her parents had joined them after the shopping spree for the parasailing excursion that was Kevin and Karen’s birthday gift. Jac was embracing her new life with gusto.

“Happy Birthday from us.” Susan handed her a package.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” A scarf in ocean shades of blue and green. She put it around her neck and hugged Jac’s parents. They’d made her feel so welcome.

Sliding a beautifully wrapped package across the table, Jac said, “Max wrapped it.”

“Then he won’t mind if I’m not dainty opening it. Oh, Jac, thank you.” She held up the wind chimes and jiggled them. “What beautiful tones. I’ll hang it in Grandma’s garden.”

Jac’s smile looked forced. Something was bothering her. She’d been quiet yesterday, and her playing last night had been stiff and unenthusiastic. What if Jac knew she’d almost kissed her? Best to ignore it. Tomorrow they’d be home.

“Bus leaves in ten,” Frank said, taking dishes to the house.

“Do you know where we’re going?” Liz asked Jac.

“No clue.” Jac gave a fake-innocent shrug.

“Liar. You’ll pay for that.” She started to tickle Jac, in keeping with their running joke about trust and honesty. She stopped. Not today.

*

“What did you say?” Jac realized her mom had asked her something.

“We’re almost there. Are you excited?”

“Very.” Something else she never thought she’d do. They talked about it for a bit, and then her thoughts went back to Liz. She seemed different since Friday night. Since they’d danced. At times Liz was herself, but then she’d drop out of a conversation, or her voice would sound strained or impatient. She seemed distracted when at the piano, and only wanted to play her older songs. When Jac had asked if she wanted to talk about Teri, she’d said “no” in a decisive way that made it clear the topic was off limits.

First birthday without Teri. A major performance in less than three weeks, just days before the anniversary of Teri’s death. That was a lot to deal with. She wanted to help, but Liz was shutting her out. Did Liz know she’d been about to kiss her? Was she upset? She was afraid to say anything, and what was there to say? They’d be home tomorrow, and Liz would be back in San Jose. Seeing less of Liz would be painful, but it would allow her feelings time to settle again.

By design, Hannah was a few minutes behind them. A car pulled in next to them and doors opened. “Surprise!” They all yelled.

“Zip line?” Liz sounded more confused than excited.

“Dad’s part of your birthday present,” Hannah said. “Here, he’s on the phone and wants to wish you Happy Birthday.”

Jac waited by the car, listening to Hannah, who never tired of talking. She was also astute. Hannah had taken her aside last night and asked if she was all right. Then she’d said to be patient, an odd comment. Did she mean give Liz time to get over her birthday? Would everything be okay when they were back home?

“You’re doing this, too?” Liz asked, beside her. She sounded worried.

“I’ve always wanted to.” She’d never dared do things like this when she was performing because everyone was afraid she’d get hurt and ruin her career.

“Is it safe?”

“I’ll make sure I’m strapped in.”

“Funny. What about your back?”

“I’ll know more after the first line.”

“Peggy’s going to want tons of pictures,” Liz said finally.

“Not my job.”

“You’re probably more at risk from me tripping and taking you down with me.”

“I’ll take my chances.” She held Liz’s elbow as they walked over unleveled terrain, everyone chattering excitedly.

After signing releases, being fitted with harnesses and helmets, and listening to general instructions, they set out.

“Who’s first?” their guide asked when they arrived at the first line.

“I am,” Jac said.

“Way to go,” Hannah said.

Her dad slapped her on the back and her mom said, “I’m so proud of you.”

A few minutes later she was dangling in the harness with her feet off the ground. The harness squeezed her thighs, and she felt secure as she bounced in it. She tugged the straps around her chest. Tight. She felt up to where they were attached to a large clamp, like mountain climbers used, she imagined, which was fastened around a substantial steel cable. Her heart was pounding, but in a good way.

“Keep your hands and feet inside the ride at all times,” the guide said, snugged up behind her.

In her next breath she was falling, an odd sensation of forward movement, bouncing on the cable, wind on her skin. She held tight to the strap at her chest.

In seconds he said, “Lift your feet.”

She did and bounced against his chest as he ran across the landing platform to stop their momentum.

“Perfect,” he said. “You’re a natural.”

When he released her from the cable, she turned in the direction of the cheers and bowed, which brought whistles and more cheers. The voice she searched for yelled, “Great performance, Richards!” Doing this was a thrill. Doing it with Liz was indescribable.

A few minutes later there was a scream as someone came across. Liz. Then feet running on the platform. “Oh my gosh, that’s amazing! How was it?”

“Better than a standing ovation.” Jac couldn’t stop grinning.

“Your back?”

“Great. Don’t worry about me.”

Liz hugged her and something shifted, and Liz was like her old self. “Thank you for this weekend.”

She couldn’t speak as emotions choked her. So much she wanted to say. The next few minutes were a flurry of cheering and screams as Hannah, Kerri, and her parents took their turns. The rest of the morning was a nonstop sensory assault of zip-lining, hugging, laughing, and talking. Each line was longer. It was exhilarating. When they reached the last line, the guide pulled her aside.

“It’s a double line—two people side by side. Do you want to do it without me?”

“Yes. With Liz.” She could barely contain her excitement as he fitted her into the harness.

“You’re all set,” the guide said after getting Liz hooked on.

“Ready?” She held out her hand to Liz.

“Wait. He’s not—”

“It’s just you and me.”

“But…oh, hell.”

She squeezed Liz’s hand as she lifted her feet. The wind blew hard against her as they fell through space. Liz screamed and Jac joined her. They laughed and squealed, and then, all too soon, they slowed and came to a stop

“Oooohhh!” Liz cried as they fell backward. This line didn’t have a platform, and they would swing back and forth on the line until they ran out of momentum. “Don’t let go!”

“Never.” Tears stung Jac’s eyes, but not from the wind. Today. Tomorrow. Three weeks of rehearsals and then? Monterey would launch Liz into the career she deserved. She’d do the fall tour and then there would be other tours and…Jac screamed, holding tightly, for these few precious moments, to the woman she loved.