Autumn Leaves (4 page)

“No worries,” she said aloud. “They lost anyway.”

* * * *

“I wanted to ask if you’d like to join us. You could...you know...bring somebody.”

“I’m not dating anyone at the moment,” Callie said. There was always a little teasing in her voice whenever that subject was broached. Today, Rebecca could deal with it. She’d had a very good Saturday morning that had indeed made up for holding the fort all alone for two weeks.

“Is it okay if I just bring myself or is it going to be awkward?”

“Oh no, of course not. I want you to meet David.”

“I know one thing about him already.”

“Really?”

“He’s got good taste in women.”

Rebecca shook her head, flattered rather than mortified. “Wouldn’t he just love to hear that. I’m sorry, I have to run. Come at seven—bring yourself. There’s gonna be food, wine, and a little small-town gossip.” She didn’t quite know why she kept doing this. Rebecca loved living in Autumn Leaves. It seemed like she had to say things like this as a preemptive strike. Not that Callie had complained about anything regarding her new home.

“That’s great. Thank you so much.”

“Come on. It’s just dinner.”

Callie had followed her outside on the porch, laying a hand on Rebecca’s arm as she spoke. “No, I mean, really thank you. In the days I’ve spent here, people have been okay to me. Polite. You were the only one making an effort.”

“I didn’t...”

“Yes, you did. I just want you to know I’m not taking it for granted.”

Rebecca was aware that at that moment, a lot of unspoken things hovered in the air between them, things that had nothing to do with Callie’s life choices or what Rebecca thought of them. There was more, but there was no time to go there now.

“David has to go back on the road on Wednesday. How about we talk more then, have a girls’ night out? Well,” she corrected herself, “girls’ afternoon out anyway. Can’t stay out late on a school night.”

Callie smiled gratefully. “I’d love that.”

Rebecca wondered if a hug might be misunderstood in this situation. Unsure about it, she aborted the impulse, just smiled back at her young neighbor, and turned to leave.

* * * *

The time went by too quickly. Rebecca cancelled Saturday brunch, but even so, the weekend seemed to just fly by. The passage of time was also easily measured by Dina’s increasingly bad mood, and just like often lately, she refused to go to church. Maggie did not complain. Rebecca had the suspicion that was mostly because she would see Mikey LaRue again.

“Come on, it’s one of the few things we do together, as a family. You can hang out with your friends for all the rest of the day.”

Dina made a noncommittal sound. “I have to mentally prepare for another crappy week. I’m sorry, Mom, church does not help.”

“Why?” Rebecca was honestly wondering. She wasn’t deeply religious, but she knew her way around the Bible, and she’d always taken comfort in the community. Everybody needed something to hold onto, and she wanted her girls to know they had somewhere to turn. Even outside the family.

“It’s boring,” Dina moaned. “I’m sorry, but that’s what it is.”

“Well, it’s just an hour of your time. Maybe someday you can see a reason why you’d spare it.”

“Today, I don’t.”

“Come on, that’s—”

“It’s fine,” David intervened. “Dina, you don’t like coming to church. I get it. Maybe next time? If you’re not going, I guess you could make time to take care of Pebbles?”

“Fine!” Dina made a face, but she didn’t protest. Pebbles, the guinea pig, belonged to Maggie, but since he was the only pet in the house, the girls kind of shared him.

Rebecca shook her head at David, stifling a smile. Church or Pebbles. There was some choice.

“All right. We’re good then. Let’s go.”

Rebecca hadn’t expected to see Callie in church, but there she was in the second to last row, wearing a white cardigan over a flowery dress. She was smiling in greeting as Rebecca and David walked by with Maggie who immediately sought out the LaRue family. Somehow, knowing she was there made Rebecca nervous. She was aware how completely irrational this was. Callie could take care of herself. She didn’t need some pretend big sister to protect her. If she wanted to tell, or not tell, if she wanted to go to church on Sundays like everybody else did, never mind Dina Lowman...It was none of Rebecca’s business.

What did you think, that lesbians can’t believe in God?
Truth be told, she’d never given that question any thought whatsoever.

Rebecca assumed she would stumble through a whole lot more awkward moments. There was a curiosity. She just couldn’t leave it be. In the end, everything had to make sense, like the code of a website. Trying to read Callie Bryan was turning out to be much harder, but just as intriguing. Not at all anything she should be thinking about during service.

“I see you’re surprised.” Callie had waited for them outside, at a distance from the other churchgoers who had gathered in small groups. “I’ve always been fascinated by places of spirituality. You can easily tell who goes there because they believe, or who wants to be seen pretending to believe.”

“Wow, that’s some quick analysis.”

“I’m a writer,” Callie reminded her. “Observing people is part of the deal.”

“So you just came to spy on people, and they’re all going to end up in your next novel?”

“Not all of them, just...Come on. Rebecca.”

The knee-jerk reaction would be to just leave and wallow in her again, very much irrational disappointment. It was no way to get answers, so Rebecca stayed.

“I came here because it’s what you do,” Callie said softly. “I’m trying to blend in. I’ll also have to take a good look at my own spirituality, because I pretty much lost it some time ago. Is that any better?”

Rebecca felt very self-conscious all of a sudden. “Are you still coming to dinner if I promise to be less of the judgmental bitch from the neighborhood?”

“Hey.” Callie lightly slapped her arm. “Don’t talk about my friend that way. Of course I’ll come. I can’t wait.”

“Okay. Good. I’ll see you then.”

Rebecca watched her walk away until a voice behind her made her jump.

“David says your new neighbor is coming to dinner,” Betty said. “A writer, huh? Did you check out any of her books yet?”

“Sorry, Betty, I haven’t had a lot of time to read lately.”

Which was half the truth, but it had to do for now.

* * * *

Much to the surprise of everyone present at their little dinner party, Callie knew some sports statistics David was interested in. She was also the only guest who had dressed up for the occasion, wearing an emerald-green short dress with a rather plunging neckline. Across the table, Betty gave Rebecca a meaningful look that nearly made her laugh. She had to admit, though, knowing for a fact that Callie wasn’t really interested in men did help. Not that she’d ever think David would...
Stop it
, she told herself. Betty sometimes had a way of making her paranoid.

“I know all of this only because my brother Sean won’t stop talking about it whenever he visits me. I think it’s the way men communicate.”

“Isn’t that a sexist way to look at things?” David teased. “You know, I can cook. I must admit, though, that tonight, I didn’t.”

“Now that is something that’s clearly beyond me.” Callie laughed. “Really, Rebecca, that was wonderful. I forget to eat half of the time, and when I do, the meals mostly come from a microwave. You easily put a five-star restaurant to shame...I can say that, because I’ve eaten in one.” Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkling.

Rebecca felt the wine and the exaggerated praise go to her head, too, or maybe it just was really warm in the room. She had to admit she had aimed to impress with the five-course meal, the dining room table set with a theme of red and white. She had not missed the way Callie’s eyes had lit up when she’d taken a first look, a welcome validation.

“No way.”

“Way,” Callie insisted. “You sure you don’t have a spare room for, let’s say a pretend daughter? I even do the dishes once in a while.”

The rather misplaced joke made Rebecca sober up instantly. Callie Bryan was this young, hip big-city writer, granted, but Rebecca didn’t feel that old. She didn’t like that at this moment, Callie had made her. No one had picked up on her shift in mood.

“Isn’t that tempting?” she returned with barely veiled sarcasm.

David and Charles were talking about another meeting David had coming up. Betty was listening to their conversation but fiddling with her rings as she always did when she was bored.

“I’m sorry.” Callie had understood, and she sounded sincere, but the damage was done. Rebecca knew she shouldn’t be so sensitive about a spur of the moment joke, made under the influence. Besides, Betty and Charles would never praise Rebecca’s cooking skills like that. A homemade dinner wasn’t much of a deal for them, or anybody around the table except Callie. What did she want Callie to see in her anyway?

“You will be when I make you do the dishes for real.”

Everybody laughed, back in on the conversation, but Callie still seemed worried.

“I could,” she offered.

“Oh no,” Betty chimed in. “One thing you have to understand is that when in cooking or cleaning mode, Rebecca won’t let anybody into her kitchen.”

One thing you have to understand is that now, I’m really craving a stiff drink.
Rebecca gave her friend a strained smile. All of a sudden, she couldn’t wait for the instant when everyone would leave. However, when good-byes were said and David offered to walk Charles and Betty home, Callie stayed behind.

“God, I’m such an idiot,” she claimed once it was only the two of them.

“No, you’re not. You’re just drunk. After one glass of wine.” Rebecca couldn’t quite suppress the smile.

“Still, you’re letting me into your kitchen.”

“Yes. You’ve got to practice for that pretend daughter gig.”

“I’ll never gonna live that down, right? I’m sorry. See? I told you people say I talk too much.”

Callie was so dismayed by her
faux pas
it even made her look younger, and much more forgivable. She had all but begged Rebecca to let her help with dishes, and Rebecca had found it impossible to stay mad at her for much longer.

“Although,” Callie said, critically eyeing the pile of plates and pans, “I have to say you should invest in a dishwasher.”

“It’s a good thing I really like you,” Rebecca remarked.

Dish towel in one hand, wine glass in the other, Callie turned to her, giving her an intent look from under long lashes. “You do?”

Betty’s suspicions aside, Callie Bryan really was a very attractive woman, and aware of it. Rebecca was aware of it, too, and she found it rather unsettling.

“’Course,” she said, quickly pushing the thought aside, “and when I look at this mess, I think I need another drink before I can even think of tackling it. Just one more glass?”

“Sure. It’s a good thing, too, that you know where I live.”

* * * *

Rebecca saw Callie off to her front door safely the other night. When the shutters were still closed at ten thirty the next morning, she felt the need to check on her neighbor. The phone rang just the moment a pale-looking Callie had opened the door to her. She groaned, holding her head.

“Could somebody turn off the damn thing?” By somebody, she obviously meant Rebecca, because she was the only other person in the room. She thought it was funny how this girl from the big city could be hung over after a couple of glasses of wine. Callie remained an enigma to Rebecca. In many ways.

“Who’s bothering you?” she asked, fairly amused.

The call went to the answering machine, a warm low voice speaking. Female.

“Hey, Cal, I need a word. In fact, I need many words from you, and I hope you didn’t forget about your deadline. How’s the charming small-town life? I still can’t believe you did that, but if it helps you make that story come out”—a dramatic sigh—“then so be it. Call me.”

“My editor. I told her I’d get back to her once I got the first draft done. She just wants to make fun of me.”

“Aw, come on. It can’t be that bad. You’ve dealt with these people before, right? Everything’s gonna look better after that magical coffee of yours. I’ll make you some. I owe you for being the first guest in centuries who helped me doing the dishes—even if it was out of ulterior motives.”

As she turned to fill the coffeemaker, Callie got up to stand beside her.

“That’s nice. How come you’re not like everyone else around here?”

“I don’t know. I’m not special in any way.”
What’s with the fishing for compliments, Rebecca?

“I think you are.”

Rebecca had no time to prepare herself before Callie hugged her tightly. She found, though, that she didn’t mind, as it was what she’d wanted to do all along. It felt right. Friends were there for each other. It wasn’t exactly clear what Callie’s deal was, but Rebecca saw hints of another side to the charming, confident one. Callie leaned her head against Rebecca’s chest as Rebecca hugged her in return. Her still wet hair smelled faintly of apricots. She’d just been out of the shower when Rebecca had knocked on her door.