The Game of Denial (29 page)

Evey finished her coffee. "Attic first? It might take a while. I stored Tully's things up there as well."

"Have you heard from him?" Fran asked as she carried her cup to the sink and rinsed it out.

"He called. Said he'd be down in a couple of weeks to get the last of his stuff." Evey rolled her eyes. "Of course, he needs to borrow a horse trailer to haul everything back."

"Aren't you lonely out here by yourself?" Fran asked, following Evey up the front stairs.

"Ralph's here," Evey said. "We keep busy."

A little after midday, Evey put the last of Brad's things in the trunk of Fran's car. Her daughter-in-law had managed to find a couple of old items, along with Brad's things. They would look wonderful in the gallery and Evey was glad to rid herself of more junk. She and Fran hugged before Fran got in her vehicle to leave. Evey waved at the retreating car before returning to the house. She walked into the mud room behind the kitchen and carried her work boots to the kitchen table to pull them on. In the middle of tying the laces, she felt moisture on her face and wiped at it. Why had Fran needed to tell her about Joan? She had almost stopped thinking about her, about the feel of her lips, the solidness of her body, the scent of her skin. And now Fran had dragged it all up again. Joan had moved on. She found someone to share her life with, even if it wasn't the person she wanted. Evey needed to think about that. She was the one sitting alone in a large house, warming herself in front of a fire. She could be snuggled against a warm body, waiting to be kissed, desperate to be loved. She shook her head and stood up. Her hands were shaking and she shoved them into her coat pocket and walked out the back door.

A MONTH LATER Joan was brushing her hair into place, preparing to go out. She had accepted Monica's invitation to a dinner party and was actually looking forward to it. Since the night they had been together before Christmas, she had spent quite a bit of time with Monica. Despite her flirtatious manner, Joan did enjoy talking with her. She had managed so far to deflect Monica's attempts to take their relationship to a deeper level, but she had to admit it was becoming more difficult. Joan missed being intimate with another woman, she missed being touched and stroked. She missed being adored and cherished. She believed that eventually she could learn to care for Monica, but never as much as Monica wanted.

When the phone in her sitting room rang, Joan went to answer it, tilting her head to remove an earring. "Hello," she answered. She was shocked by the voice on the other end of the line.

"Joan?" Evey's voice said.

Joan needed to sit down. "Evey. What a pleasant surprise. How are you?"

"I need to talk to you. I mean, we need to talk."

"Is something wrong?"

"No. I need to...see you."

Joan exhaled through her nose. "Why?" she asked, feeling anger at the memory of the last time they met. "So you can slap me in the face again. I won't be led on and then pushed away as if being near me was something to be ashamed of."

"I have never led you on," Evey said, her voice sounding small and fragile.

"You led me to hope for something that can't be. I won't...I can't do that to myself any longer. I'm sorry." She paused for a moment. "Goodbye, Evey." Before she could change her mind she hung up and dropped her face into her hands.

JOAN WENT THROUGH the motions, making light conversation with Monica's other guests over dinner, laughing in all the appropriate places when someone told what they thought was a humorous story. She couldn't remember ever feeling so uncomfortable in her own skin. This wasn't her. At times she felt like she was standing outside herself, watching the activity around her.

"Are you all right, darling?" Monica asked after dinner as she slid an arm around Joan's waist and kissed her on the cheek.

Joan smiled at her. "I'm fine."

"Just fine? Then I'll have to try harder. You look like your dog died."

"I'm sorry. Just tired." She faced Monica and kissed her lightly. "Not your fault."

"Maybe we need to get away for a few days to recharge your batteries."

Joan nodded. Why did she have to call? Why did the sound of her voice cause Joan's heart to beat faster? Why?

Monica brought her lips closer to Joan's ear. "Are you staying with me tonight?" she said.

"I'm sorry. I can't," Joan said. "I'm going out of town on business tomorrow."

Monica's hand stroked lightly along the side of Joan's face. "When will you be back?"

"I don't know yet. A few days, depending on what happens."

"We're so good together. I know you care about me, darling."

"I do care, but I don't love you. I'm sorry, Monica."

"You're going to her, aren't you?" Monica said. When Joan didn't say anything, Monica narrowed her eyes. "Do you expect me be here when she rejects you again? And she will, you know?"

"We're only meeting to talk." Joan answered with a shrug.

"Don't do this, Joan. What we have together is good. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Of course it does." But it's not enough.

"I've given you everything,
everything
, you've wanted," Monica said, her voice rising.

Joan looked around and saw Monica's other guests looking in their direction.

"Please lower your voice. This is a private matter. It doesn't involve your other guests."

Monica's face twisted and she clenched her hands. "Don't you want our friends to know you're thinking about another woman while you're fucking me? That you called out her name when we made love? You only want her because you can't have her." Monica laughed, but there was no humor in it. Her face changed as she realized what she'd said. "You were making love to
her
, weren't you? Touching
her
?" She pressed her hand against her forehead. "How could I have been so stupid?" Impulsively Monica slapped Joan's face. Then she tried to take Joan in her arms, but Joan's look stopped her.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you, Monica," Joan said calmly, setting her glass down. "That was never my intention."

"You'll be back!" Monica yelled as Joan walked to the apartment door and turned the knob.

Joan stopped and glanced back at Monica. "No matter what happens, I won't be back," she said before she closed the door behind her. She heard a glass shatter against it as she made her way to the elevator. She felt like a cad, but knew she'd made the right decision.

EVEY DRIED HER hands on a dish towel as she walked through the dining room toward the front door. She thought she'd heard someone knocking. She glanced at the clock mounted on the living room wall and looked out the front window. She didn't recognize the vehicle parked on the grass near the front porch.

Another knock at the door startled her. She opened it and was shocked when Joan turned to face her.

"Joan. I wasn't expecting you," Evey stammered.

Joan cleared her throat as she looked around. "I wasn't expecting to be here. You said we needed to talk."

Evey looked down at the boards on the front porch. "And you said goodbye."

"I was upset. May I come in?" Joan asked, hunching her shoulders against the cold air.

Evey nodded and stepped aside to allow Joan to enter.

"Let me take your coat," Evey said. Once she hung it in the closet of the front room, she rubbed her hands together. "Can I get you a cup of coffee or something else to drink?"

"A glass of water would be fine," Joan said. She moved to stand in front of the fireplace to warm her hands as Evey left the room for a moment.

"Did you fly down?"

Joan took a long drink of the water and sighed. She shook her head. "I drove." She smiled. "I needed the extra time to think. Got a little turned around in D.C. though"

"Have you eaten? I have some leftovers from last night."

"No. I'm fine. Do you need to take care of the horses?"

"Ralph will get them."

"He's a good friend." Joan took another drink. "What do we need to talk about?" she asked.

Evey attempted a light-hearted laugh, but it was hollow. "It seemed important when I called, but now I don't know what to say." She looked around before saying, "We should sit down. You look exhausted."

Joan pinched the bridge of her nose and sat down. "I should have stopped at the hotel before I drove here," she said.

"You can stay in the guest room here," Evey said. "Why waste the money?"

"Do you think that's wise? What would people
think
?" Joan asked with a bite in her voice.

Evey played with her fingernails and shifted on the couch. There were tears hovering in her eyes when she looked at Joan. "When you kissed me in New York it was the most wonderful feeling I'd ever experienced," she said quietly.

"Then you pushed me away."

"I was confused, torn between what I felt and reality." A tear escaped and ran down her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but a flood of tears stopped her.

Joan moved to sit next to Evey and carefully wrapped her arms around the sobbing woman. "It'll be okay. We'll make it okay." She rubbed her hand in small circles over Evey's back. "I promise." She brushed Evey's cheek lightly with the tips of her fingers as their eyes meet. "Please, Evey, tell me this is what you want."

Joan brought her lips closer to Evey's. She placed her hand against the side of Evey's face as she dropped soft kisses on her forehead, eyes, and cheek. She felt Evey's hands glide up her back and press her closer. She ran the tip of her tongue over Evey's lips asking permission to continue. She moved her hand into Evey's hair and waited as the soft lips beneath hers parted to allow her to enter. She moved her lips gently against Evey's, savoring the connection between them until Evey broke it and touched her lips with her fingertips as she breathed heavily.

"I...I can't. I can't," she gasped.

Joan's eyes searched Evey's and she moved away, inhaling deeply. "I know," she said, her voice filled with sadness.

EVEY AWAKENED THE following morning, dressed quickly and, walked into the kitchen for a cup of coffee before searching for Joan. She pulled the front curtain aside and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Joan's white Lexus still parked in front of the house. She blinked to ward off the glare of bright sunshine reflecting off the snow and saw Joan leaning against the porch railing, speaking to someone on her cell phone. Joan turned and smiled when the door opened. Evey wrapped her hands around her mug while Joan finished her call.

"Sorry about that," Joan said as she disconnected and slipped the cell into her pocket.

"Business?"

"Always," Joan said with a nod as she brought her coffee mug to her lips. "I'm in the process of turning the agency over to Charmaine. I never realized how much paperwork would be involved." She looked out across the front yard, smoothly covered with fresh snow. "It's beautiful here," she added, taking a deep breath. "Peaceful. Feel like a walk?"

Evey shrugged. "If you want to we can. Just let me get my jacket."

Wrapped in warm coats and mufflers, they strolled down a path that circled past the barn and stables and eventually into a wooded area filled with spruce and other evergreens. In what seemed like a natural movement, Joan took Evey's hand and held it comfortably as they walked.

"Are you angry?" Evey asked.

Joan shook her head. "Resigned, I think. Maybe disappointed. A little frustrated. You said you needed to talk and we have, I guess. Now I can go back home knowing I've done what I could."

Evey stared down at her feet and kicked at the edge of a clump of snow. "I wish I was able to give you what you want, Joan."

"You could, but would hate yourself later and blame me for forcing you into making a decision," Joan said. She took a deep breath of the brisk morning air. "It would probably be better if we didn't see or contact one another again," she said, plucking a small cone from a nearby blue spruce tree.

"I never meant to hurt you, Joan."

"You're killing me," Joan said as she released Evey's hand. "I can't go on like this, hoping for something that will never be." She turned back toward the house, lengthening her stride.

"What are you talking about?" Evey asked as she trotted to catch up to Joan again.

Joan stopped and looked at the woman next to her. "I'm tired of hoping you'll see what I feel and terrified you never will," Joan said, raising her voice.

"Tell me," Evey said.

"I'm in love with you, Evey. I want you. I need you. I ache for you. Thinking about you makes me crazy. I want to make love to you and have you make love to me until we're both too exhausted to move. I want you to
feel
how much I love you in a look and know I will never hurt you. I am not ashamed for loving you. I don't want to hide, or sneak around. I'm not too old to find happiness again, but I can't move on until I know how you feel. I don't want to play this stupid game of denial anymore. You may not want to hear it, but that's what I feel."

Evey watched as Joan stomped off across the field back to the house, leaving deep footprints in the pristine snow. She stuck her hands in her pockets and wandered to the stables, stopping to stroke the necks of horses as their heads appeared over the gates of their stalls. When she reached Jackson, she smiled and rested her forehead against his massive head.

"That's a woman with a powerful lot of love to give, Miz Evey," Ralph's voice said.

Evey rolled her head against Jackson and looked at Ralph. "I know."

"So what're you gonna do about it?"

"What if it's a mistake?"

Ralph shrugged. "What if it isn't?"

"What about the kids?"

"They're not kids anymore. They've all moved on in one way or another. It's time to let go of the past." He paused and rubbed a calloused hand up and down his face.

"Do you think it's wrong? Two women together."

Ralph gazed toward the house. "It don't really matter what me or anyone else thinks, Miz Evey. It only matters what you feel."

"Will you stay?"