The Game of Denial (10 page)

Joan's eyes shifted to a large form on the hay a few feet from where Evelyn knelt with the foal. A large blanket was draped over the body of Evey's favorite mare. She had been so excited and hopeful that Sheba was finally going to be a mother. It would be her first. Now it had been her last. Joan couldn't imagine what could have gone wrong. According to Evey it had been a relatively uneventful pregnancy.

Evey released the foal and pivoted on her knees toward Sheba. She pulled the blanket away from the huge head and stroked it tenderly, murmuring too softly for Joan to hear. Her heart went out to the quiet, friendly woman and she turned to leave as silently as she had arrived.

"Please don't leave," a soft voice behind Joan said.

Joan looked over her shoulder at the tear-streaked face. "I don't want to intrude." Her eyes moved toward the fallen horse. "I'm so sorry," she rasped.

Evey took in a deep shaky breath and attempted a faint smile as she looked down at the foal still wobbling beside her. "I have to get this little guy to our nurse goat. He must be starving."

Joan entered the stall and bent down, lifting the foal into her arms. "Lead the way," she said.

"Isn't he heavy?"

"Only if I have to walk a mile," she answered as she dodged being struck by his bobbing head.

Joan followed Evey to an enclosed area behind the barn and waited as she opened the gate. Joan set the foal down carefully and watched as he tested his spindly legs. A few moments later Evey led a large goat into the enclosure and up a ramp onto a sturdy, low platform. The foal found what he needed and shoved his head forcefully beneath the patient-looking goat that chewed at the feed in a trough in front of her and swung her head around to look at the new arrival. Evey backed out of the enclosure and pulled the gate closed. Joan followed Evey back into the barn, unsure what else she could do.

"He was a difficult birth," Evey said. She ran her hands through her hair and slowly down her face. "She tried, but he was too tangled up. It...it was him or her. I didn't have a...choice."

"You don't have to explain what happened to me, Evey. I know you loved Sheba. Any fool could see that." Without thinking Joan patted Evey on the shoulder and let her hand linger there as they re-entered the stall. Evey dug into the front pocket of her jeans, now encrusted with blood and afterbirth, and pulled out a cell phone. Her chin fell to her chest as she waited for an answer. "This is Evelyn Chase at Meadowbrook Farm. I need a van to remove a...a deceased horse." Joan watched as Evey nodded and grunted several times before flipping her cell closed. She glanced quickly up at Joan, her eyes filled with tears once more. The first tear rolled down her already stained cheek as Joan reached out and wrapped her in a comforting embrace.

"I'm filthy," Evey protested and tried to pull away.

Joan's eyes met Evey's. "It doesn't matter," she said and drew her closer once again. To her surprise Evey's arms wound tightly around her as deep sobs tore through her. Joan leaned back against the wall of the stall and held Evey, stroking her back and hair. She knew exactly how much it hurt to lose something--or someone-- you loved. Stray thoughts of Martine invaded her mind, bringing back the tears she thought she had finished shedding years before. The press of Evey's body against hers brought back the wondrous feel of her wife against her. She could hold Martine for hours and never tire of the feeling. The feel of her wife was permanently imprinted on her body and she knew she would never stop mourning her loss.

Drowning in her feelings, Joan slowly ran a hand down Evey's side. She buried her face in Evey's hair and inhaled deeply. She whispered soothingly to the distraught woman. "I know it hurts to lose someone you love." She was surprised when she felt Evey's fingers dig into her back and press closer. Joan kissed the top of her head and kissed her temple as she whispered softly, "It's okay to grieve."

She drew her head back slightly and watched the tears brimming in Evey's eyes fall onto her cheeks. "It's okay." She raised her hands to the sides of Evelyn's face and wiped the tears away with her thumbs as Evey continued to stare at her. They were so close.

The vulnerability Joan saw in Evey's eyes stole her breath away. She felt Evey's hand slip up to the back of her neck and her lips parted as she lowered her head. It had been a long time since she had felt the warmth of another person this close to her. "Please," Evey murmured.

Joan's breath caught in her throat. "You're overwrought, Evey. You should go to the house and lie down for a while." Gently she stepped away and cleared her throat.

"I'm sorry," Evey said. "But--"

"No, no. You're upset."

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, Joan."

"You didn't. Go rest. I'll wait for the van to pick up Sheba."

Evey nodded briskly and left the stall. As soon as she was certain Evey was gone, Joan leaned back against the wall and covered her eyes with her hands. It would have been so simple, felt so natural to kiss Evey Chase. What the hell was she thinking? Evey had only been caught up in her grief over the loss of Sheba and would have hated her later for taking advantage of her distress. Joan leaned her head back and took a deep breath. We're having the wedding at Brad's family farm, Mom. It will be beautiful and quaint, Fran had said. Yeah, right! Joan thought. I came here for my daughter's wedding, not to get the groom's mother into bed. I have to stay as far away from Evelyn Chase as possible until this fiasco ends and I can return to my real life, someplace where I can feel in control again.

EVEY PEELED OUT of her soiled jeans and t-shirt and stepped into a hot shower. She toweled off a few minutes later, turned back the covers on her bed, and climbed in naked. The coolness of the sheets on her body was soothing as she stared at the ceiling and breathed deeply to settle her emotions. Sheba was gone. She had lost dozens of animals over the years. It was just the way things were on a farm. It was no one's fault. It was obviously meant to be. She could handle the loss as usual, even though the loss of any animal bothered her.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Joan's scent still lingered in her memory. The shower hadn't been able to wash it away. What the hell was she thinking? And what had Joan thought? God! She'd felt so safe wrapped in Joan's arms. She hadn't felt that way, safe, in a very long time. If Joan hadn't stepped away, she knew she would have kissed her, filling her loneliness with the intimate touch of another person. She felt rejected, but not angry. Maybe Joan didn't find her attractive. The flutter in her stomach when she was around Joan scared her. It wasn't possible for her to find another woman attractive and desirable, was it? The distant memory of another woman's arms holding her affectionately drifted into her mind and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut to drive the memory away. She felt safe living far away from others. It was only her and the children and no other possible distractions. But nothing had ever been able to drive away the feel of soft lips brushing against her own.

Chapter Eleven

AFTER THE NEAR kiss in the barn, Joan was resolved to avoid any unnecessary proximity to Evey. There were only three days left before the wedding and she was confident she could get through three days standing on her head. But she wasn't prepared for Fran's plans for the next day. Joan hadn't made it through her first cup of coffee before Fran swept into the room and practically kidnapped Evey and Joan, insisting they accompany her to the home of Central Virginia University. Brad would be beginning his new position as an assistant professor in Comparative Literature less than three months after their wedding. She needed to locate a place for them to live and try to get settled in before the holidays began in November. She was desperate for help from her mother and mother-in-law. Brad had given her a reasonable budget based on his projected income and their combined savings and she had been in contact with a local realtor. Brad's only request had been a room for a home office and his myriad of books. The realtor had called the previous evening describing what she believed was exactly what the young couple was looking for and well within their budget.

Not wanting to be trapped in Fran's compact vehicle with Evey, Joan tried unsuccessfully to convince Fran to take Charmaine instead. Evey thought Brad should be with her to make such a significant decision.

"Charmaine is living on her cell phone dealing with a difficult client," Fran said. "Brad promised Chris they would do whatever guys do when they get together. Probably watch a game on the television and drink beer," she said. "And before you suggest it, Giselle is taming the kids, and Beth, well, she'd rather watch a game with the guys. We're not expecting any more guests until tomorrow. That only leaves Meg, and I don't know how helpful an eighteen-year-old would be. So get over it because you two are stuck with me," Fran finished and planted her fists on her hips.

"Bossy little thing, aren't you?" Joan said as she brought her cup to her mouth. "Has Bradley seen this side of you yet?"

"Oh yeah," Brad said as he passed through the kitchen to refill his cup. He carried it to stand next to his bride-to-be and kissed her on the cheek. He left the room, singing, with limited ability, the chorus to Kenny Rogers' "The Gambler," something about holdin' and foldin'.

"I hate that song!" Fran called out.

"I know!" Brad called back in a sing-song voice and laughed.

"Looks like we're stuck," Evey sighed as she scooped the last spoonful of cereal into her mouth. She looked at Fran. "Can I change and brush my teeth before you kidnap us?"

"I'll bring the car around to the front," Fran said.

"I'm not going down alone," Joan said. She returned to her room and slipped into comfortable shoes for walking and grabbed her shoulder purse. She stopped at Meg's room and banged on the door with the side of her fist. When the door popped open, Meg stared at her mother. Joan pulled one of the earbuds out of Meg's ear and said, "Get some shoes on." She glanced down at the lime-colored flip-flops. "Real shoes."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Because I'm the mother and I said so. Meet us out front." Joan dropped the earbud and let it fall to Meg's chest.

"Hey!"

Joan pulled out the second earbud. "And no ear thingies."

Meg wandered onto the front porch a few minutes later, blinking as if unaccustomed to daylight. Fran pulled her car to a stop near the front porch and left the engine running. She looked up at Meg and yelled, "Road trip!"

"Shotgun!" Meg yelled back before she jumped off the porch and ran around to the front passenger seat.

As Fran shifted the vehicle into reverse, Beth came out of the house and quickly descended the front steps, running to catch the car before it went any farther. She slapped her hand on the hood causing Fran to jump and slam on the brakes. Beth opened the back passenger door and slid in next to Evey, forcing her to slide closer to Joan.

"I thought you were watching the game with Brad and Chris," Fran said, gazing in the rearview mirror.

"That was the plan," Beth said. "But when the belching and farting festival began this trip became a whole lot more appealing."

"If anyone else suddenly decides to join us we'll need a bigger car," Fran said as she began backing up once again.

The three girls chatted non-stop for the next ninety minutes until they entered an old town filled with historical markers that indicated the importance of each building to either the region or the state. Fran drove through town and onto the campus of the university. She pointed out a relatively new looking building.

"That's the English Building," she said. "Brad's office is in there somewhere. He has an appointment with the head of the department after we get back from our honeymoon."

"It's a lovely campus," Evey said. "And so spread out."

"If we can find a house close enough, Brad wants to ride his bicycle back and forth to work when the weather's nice enough."

"God, it must be nice to be young," Joan said.

"You could ride a bike to work, Mom," Meg said cheerfully.

"If I had a death wish."

Evey laughed and patted Joan on the leg, making Joan wish she hadn't done that. Squeezed in the back seat of the compact car Joan had been unable to avoid being touched, frequently, by Evey's arm. Adding to Joan's torture was Evey's tendency to touch her thigh to get her attention when she saw something of interest. Under normal circumstances Joan would have found the touches...inviting. "Um, what time are you supposed to meet the realtor," she asked to take her mind off the warm hand now resting on her thigh.

"Before lunch. Then maybe we can locate someplace to snag some lunch before we head back."

"Right now just getting out of this car and stretching my legs would be a gift," Joan said.

"Sorry. I forgot. Long legs," Fran said.

The five women wandered down the main street of Loganville and looked in the windows of a variety of stores. Meg seemed fascinated by how well the old buildings had been kept up and modernized over the years. The side streets were tree-lined and well shaded during the morning hours of early fall. The changing leaves provided an interesting backdrop of color for the old buildings around them. Meg pulled a digital camera from her shoulder bag and lagged behind the others to take several pictures.

As Meg hurried to catch up, Joan waited for her. "How did your pictures turn out?" Joan asked.

Meg held the viewer on the camera up and blocked the sunlight with her hand so Joan could see. "These are excellent photographs Meg. Crisp and each one almost tells a story."

Meg beamed at her mother's praise. "I've taken lots of pictures around the farm," she said.

"Is that where you go when you wander off?" Joan asked.

"Yeah, not much else to do," Meg said.

"Will you do me a favor? No, two favors."

"Careful or you'll use up your favor quota for the month," Meg said.

"Damn! Not already," Joan quipped back.