The Reunion (18 page)

“I don’t care about any of that. I’d
like you by my side, if you’re willing to join me.”

Maria gave Adam a wild-eyed look and
then sighed and hugged Sarah. “Of course I’ll join you.”

Adam nodded at both women. He
admired their determination, but did either of them have a clue of how much of
an oddity Maria would be in Bumper?

- o -

Lying awake in the arms of Adam and
Maria, Sarah wondered if it was wise inviting them to the funeral. They’d been
so kind and gentle with her since the terrible call had come in. No one
suggested making love. They’d settled for a big cuddle, and it was tremendously
comforting. But did she have a right to invite them to a social event that
might subject them to stares and ridicule?

It wasn’t a matter of right. She
needed them to carry her through what was going to be a very difficult time. Essentially,
she’d become a loner over the years. She’d lost two sets of friends—one after
each divorce. She hadn’t wanted to depend on anyone after that. Of course there
was Harry, but he was as gay as they came—which didn’t make him any less of a
friend. It simply meant their relationship was the only uncomplicated one she
had.

What would her folks think of Adam
and Maria? Sarah shuddered. They might accept Adam. But would they accept
Maria? Would they accept both of them?

She had no way to know now. Tears
slid down her cheeks. She hadn’t been as close to her parents as they probably
wanted, but she’d loved them, and they’d loved her.

Now they were dead, and she was
alone.

She sniffled. It was difficult to feel
totally alone with two sets of arms enfolding her.

Bumper, Iowa would have something to
talk about for weeks. Usually, gossip lasted a few days. Sarah hugged Maria
closer to her chest. The three of them might just break the Bumper gossip
grapevine all-time record.

If so, so be it.

Chapter Nine

Wakes were social occasions Sarah
had made a practice of avoiding, but she could hardly miss her parents’ wake. So,
dressed in black, she stood in the funeral home parlor accepting the
condolences of nearly forgotten friends, acquaintances and strangers. Adam and
Maria traded off standing by her, lending physical and emotional support.

The Atkinson funeral must be the
event of the week. She knew her parents were well liked and had stayed in
contact with many of the friends they’d made during the years they’d live in
the little town. How many of these mourners would also be present tomorrow for
the funeral? Probably most of them.

She welcomed a break in the flow of
people and tugged discreetly at the waistline of her dress. Her panties were
binding. She hadn’t realized how quickly she’d become accustomed to doing
without them. But it hadn’t seemed right when she’d dressed this morning. She’d
also noticed Maria slipping on a pair. Adam never commented.

Adam. She clutched his large hand. He’d
been like a rock standing by her. As promised, he’d made plane reservations and
found them a suite at a hotel in nearby Des Moines. She hadn’t wanted to stay
in Bumper. The half hour commute was no hassle, and being away from the
intensity of the wake and funeral as well as prying eyes would be a relief.

She glanced up at the man beside
her. He wore a dark tailor-made suit. If it weren’t for the occasion, she’d
more fully appreciate how sexy he looked. Maria also wore black. Away from the
funeral home, they must look like three scarecrows.

“Uh oh,” she mumbled, just loud
enough for Adam to hear. “Here comes trouble. My ex-husband. The first one. The
senator.”

Daniel Sullivan rushed up and hugged
her tight. “Sorry I’m late, dear. I would’ve been here sooner, but I got caught
up at the office. I was so sorry to hear about the accident.”

She backed away from her former husband
and stared into his steely eyes trying to feel something. Anything would do. But
she felt nothing. Nothing at all. “I’m pleased you could make it, Daniel,” she
managed to lie. “Oh, I’d like you to meet Adam Granger.” Daniel barely nodded
and did not offer his hand.

“I’ll be on time tomorrow, dear,” he
continued, as if she’d said nothing. “You can count on my support. I’ll be
sitting right beside you.”

Sarah scowled and shook her head
furiously. “No. I don’t want you beside me. You haven’t been beside me for
years. I hardly need you now.” So she did feel something—anger. It felt good.

Daniel’s face darkened. He glared at
Adam, grabbed her by the hand and nearly dragged her toward a corner that
offered more privacy.

Not wanting to make a scene, she
reluctantly followed him.

“I won’t be far away,” she heard
Adam say.

“What are you doing, Sarah?” Daniel
fumed, gripping her by the shoulders.

She ducked out of his grasp. “I don’t
understand, Daniel. What is your problem? This is a somber occasion. Can’t you
at least be polite?”

“Polite! You bring an ex-porn star
and a porn mogul to your parents’ funeral and you want polite?”

Sarah blanched. Her palms turned
clammy. How could he know? Why had he bothered finding out? “What? How?”

“I keep track of what you’re up to.”

She hated the familiar smug sneer. “But
why would you?”

“Even an ex-wife can damage a
politician’s career. Are you going to spend my money producing porn?”

Sarah felt herself light up like a
Roman Candle. “Now why didn’t I think of that? That would be perfect—except it’s
not your money. It’s mine. Can’t you get some political mileage from the fact
that you dumped me?”

“Maybe.” He tried his boyish smile
on her. “And then maybe that was a mistake.”

Sarah nodded. She saw a lusty glint
in Daniel’s eyes. “So when did you develop a sexual appetite? I don’t recall much
of a libido when we were together. In any case, I’m not available. And where is
your wife—the one who turned out to be a baby factory?”

“She’s home. We don’t sleep together
anymore, Sarah.” He reached for her again but she avoided his touch. “We had
some good times, didn’t we? We could again. I can make it happen. I can visit
Chicago or meet you in Des Moines.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “I
don’t blame your wife for avoiding you.”

“You slut,” Daniel huffed, jerking
her arm. “So which one is your lover? The muscle bound creep, or the Mexican
cantina girl?”

Sarah’s open hand connected with
Daniel’s cheek before he could stop her. Stung, he backed away.

“Listen, asshole, I wouldn’t go to
bed with you if we were the last two persons on earth.” Sarah paused for breath.
“Picture this, lover boy—your ex-wife is sleeping with both of them, sometimes
at the same time.” His jaw visibly dropped. She’d finally shocked him. “Yes, imagine
that, Daniel. Imagine all the ways a man and two women can make love and see if
your dick will harden enough to jerk off. Now I have responsibilities. If you’ll
excuse me.”

Sarah stalked away. Daniel lurched
forward to stop her and bumped into Adam Granger.

“If I understood the lady correctly,
you’re going the wrong direction, Senator.”

“Don’t get in my way, punk,” Sarah’s
ex growled.

“I
am
in your way, Senator.” Adam
placed his hand on the man’s chest. “How much of a scene do you want to make? Looks
to me like friends, neighbors—and that means voters—are already more than a
little curious about why their senator is browbeating his ex-wife, and at her
parent’s funeral, of all things. You must be pretty bad off.”

Daniel’s shoulders slumped. “Okay. I’m
going.”

“There’s no need for you to show up
tomorrow.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” He
glowered at Adam. “May you rot in hell.”

“Probably. But if so, you’ll be
right down the hall. Bye. Have a nice life.”

“What kind of lowlife was that?”
Maria asked, joining Sarah at the reception line.

“That was Senator Daniel Sullivan. My
first husband.”

“Holy mother,” Maria whispered. “
He
dumped
you?
”

“He may be regretting that at the
moment. But it’s only a fleeting moment.” She flashed a smile. “But he won’t
soon forget me and my friends.”

Maria’s eyes widened. “You didn’t? You
told him about us.”

Sarah nodded. “In his face. He’d
snooped enough to know about the two of you and your backgrounds. Now he knows
the three of us are lovers. He’ll lie awake nights thinking about how we manage
that.”

“I’m not sure that’s so good. Hope
he doesn’t know any voodoo. He looked like the devil incarnate when he roared
out of here with Adam drilling holes in his back.”

“Good.” Sarah sighed. “Now if we can
only get through the next twenty-four hours.”

Exhausted yet somewhat relieved, Sarah
stood in a corner in the church fellowship hall the following afternoon watching
the crowd finally thin out. She’d made it through the funeral. She’d been
touched by the female pastor’s eulogy and the tributes to her parents. They’d
been loved and respected by many.

She sipped her punch, took a deep
breath and tried to stretch stiffening muscles. She’d been on her feet on a
concrete floor for far too long.

“You look worn out.”

Sarah looked up and nodded, acknowledging
Emily Grafton, the pastor. The slightly built woman, probably in her late
thirties, had been at the church for seven or eight years. Her folks had mentioned
the church hiring a female pastor before they’d retired to Florida. “I am beat.”
She smiled softly. “I do want to thank you again for the beautiful service you
did for my parents. They would be pleased and honored.”

Emily’s eyes twinkled. “Your folks
were special people. I don’t know if you realize how special.”

“What do you mean?”

Emily shrugged. “Rumors have been
flying around this town since before Daniel Sullivan made his memorable
entrance and even more memorable exit last evening. They’ve been raging since
then.”

Sarah stiffened. Was she expected to
defend herself to a pastor?

Emily wrapped her fingers around
Sarah’s arm. “It doesn’t matter what people are saying. That’s not my point. When
I came on board here as this church’s first woman pastor, there were those who
weren’t very happy. I was quite open with them about my sexual orientation. My
partner teaches in the local school system. She’s an excellent teacher and has
been widely accepted by students and parents. We lost a few members here at the
church when I took over the pulpit, but it could’ve been much worse. Your folks
always stood by me. They were among my most vocal supporters.”

Sarah shivered. She hoped her jaw
hadn’t dropped. A lesbian pastor? Goodness. And her parents? They
never
rocked the boat. Or did they? They must’ve. “Why didn’t they ever tell me? I
never knew.”

“Maybe they thought you knew they
were non-judgmental and that was enough. They weren’t the kind of folks who wore
their values on their sleeves. They just practiced them.”

“I’ll be. Thank you, Emily, for
telling me. Even Adam said they were non-judgmental when we were growing up as
kids. Guess I never appreciated that fact.”

“Sometimes children are the last to
see their parents for who they really are. Probably the opposite is also true. Well,
I know you’re exhausted and I don’t want to keep you. I just wanted to say
thank you for your parents. And,” Emily winked, “I am a pastor. Always
remember, Sarah, God accepts each of us for who we are.”

Emily hugged Sarah soundly and headed
toward the stairs and her office.

In a daze, Sarah looked around for
Adam and Maria. It was time to begin getting on with their lives. She had so
much to think about, and Emily had certainly answered some basic questions
about her parents and their capacity for being flexible and accepting of people
unlike themselves.

Three nights later, Sarah stood in
front of the floor-to-ceiling windows in her lakefront condo peering out at the
familiar lights of buoys and piers and who knew what else moving slowly in the
dark. Perhaps those were ships transporting ore to the steel mills of northern
Indiana, or maybe they were pleasure boats with people seeking escape from the
tugs and pulls of day-to-day routine.

She sighed. What a whirlwind the
last week had been. The call from Harry. The confrontation with Daniel. The
funeral. Pastor Emily’s freeing words. Every conceivable emotion had been
touched.

Adam had been so comforting and
willing to do anything she needed—until the funeral was over, and then he’d
fled. He’d become antsy and decided to fly back to California that same night. Maria
had stayed behind and came along to Chicago to support her.

They’d spent the past two days moving
in slow motion. The two of them had tidied up the condo, drunk lattes at her
favorite bistro, and held hands walking the beaches of Lake Michigan. Maria
hadn’t been demanding at all. And they’d hardly mentioned Adam.

Although he’d been so helpful, the
funeral must have taken Adam well out of his comfort zone. Maybe having a
healthy relationship with him was impossible. At last, she’d concluded it wasn’t
she
who was scaring Adam—it was Adam, himself. He wasn’t ready to own
his softer side.

Sarah nodded at Maria’s reflection
in the window as she came up behind her and began kneading tight neck muscles. She
immediately softened under Maria’s superb touch. “Thanks. You’re so good for
me. That helps a lot. It’s a gorgeous night out there. I never tire of the
sight of Lake Michigan at night.”

“You’re the gorgeous sight,” Maria
whispered, untying Sarah’s robe and letting the folds fall where they might. One
breast remained covered. The other was visible in their reflection, as were her
loins.

Sarah made no move to cover herself.
She trusted Maria implicitly. She ached with a kind of wanting she’d rarely
felt. It was time. She dropped her chin to her chest. Maria had become an
integral part of her existence. Did Maria know that? What were they going to do
about it?

Maria pulled back her hair and
grazed her neck with soft lips.

The view in the window nearly took Sarah’s
breath away. Their image was surreal. But then the entire week—hell, the entire
time since that night with Adam at the reunion had been surreal.

She laid a palm on top of Maria’s
hand that cupped her breast. How had she come to love this sweet, generous
woman so much? She did. She wasn’t ashamed to admit it, at least to herself. Had
the conversation with Pastor Emily opened her to accepting herself? How could
she expect Adam to accept himself if
she
couldn’t accept who
she
was?

She’d dabbled with women while in
college, but that was entirely different from what she and Maria shared. That was
a social experiment as much as sexual—it was the thing to do to be avant-garde.
She rested her head back against Maria’s shoulder. This had nothing to do with
doing the
in
thing. This was who she was. A mature bi-sexual woman. There—she’d
named it. Her skin prickled in response.