Fresh Tracks (2 page)

same as skinny, and her wife often shocked onlookers with her strength and vigor. It was a

good trait to have up her sleeve working in the male-dominated field of contracting and

construction. Jo always pulled more than her weight, much more, and Amy admired her like

no other. She had fallen head over heels in love with Jo fifteen years ago and that hadn't

changed, not even a little.

When the flames were steady and a pleasant crackling emanated from the fire, Jo set the

black screen in place and stood, brushing her hands along her jean-clad thighs. She

surveyed her handiwork for several minutes before giving one quick nod of satisfaction.

She stepped back and sat next to Amy, automatically lifting an arm so Amy could tuck

herself against the body she knew and loved so well.

"How's that for a fire?"

"It's perfect, as usual." They sat quietly, mesmerized by the hypnotic blue and orange of the flames licking sensuously along the wood. "I feel like we've been running nonstop for days."

Jo smiled against Amy's hair. "That's because we have." From two days before Christmas until the previous night when they'd arrived at the cabin, their schedule had been jam-packed. "You want me to call everybody and tell them not to come? That we're too old for this shit and the week in the woods has been cancel ed?"

She felt more than heard Amy chuckle. "After all my work today? Have you lost your mind?

What good is my spotlessly clean house if nobody sees it but you?"

"That's what I thought you'd say."

"It'll be fun. I'm looking forward to having an uninterrupted week with our friends."

Jo nodded. "Me, too."

After a few beats of silence, Amy said, "I hope they like each other."

"It's not like they've never met."

"I know, but a fleeting introduction at a couple of parties isn't quite the same as spending a week holed up with one another."

Sensing her wife careening down a new path of worry, Jo headed her off at the pass. "It'll be fine, baby. Don't worry. Our friends are all good people. Good people like one another.

It'll be fine. Okay?"

Amy inhaled deeply and let her breath out a little at a time until she felt relaxed. She

burrowed farther into Jo's embrace. "Okay, boss."

MOLLY

T

he day was gorgeous and went a long way toward helping Molly DiPrima take a deep breath

and relax as she drove along the country roads that would lead her to Amy and Jo's cabin

in the woods. The sky was so blue it almost seemed artificial, and she'd been pleasantly

surprised to have to don her sunglasses as she settled into the driver's seat. Gray was the

common color for this time of year in upstate New York, and an appearance by the sun did

much to lighten moods. The farther away from the city she got, the more relaxed she felt.

Actually, the farther away from her life she got, the more relaxed she felt, and that made

her sad.

Christmas had been chaotic. She'd been ecstatic to be done with work. She loved her job,

but the closer the holiday got, the more out of control her kindergarten students became.

Sending the last one home on the twenty-third had wrung a relieved breath from her lungs

so large, it had collapsed her into her chair where she simply sat and stared off into space

for the better part of a half hour.

Spending the night before Christmas Eve in the mall had been a treat, she thought

sarcastically. She rolled her eyes as she recalled that most stressful of trips. She'd fallen behind on her shopping and Kristin had been no help, saying she had a proposal for one of

the firm's biggest clients due by the end of the day on Friday—The day before Christmas

Eve? Seriously?—and wouldn't be able to get to the store. She handed a short list to Molly

on her way out the door Friday morning and asked if she'd mind grabbing gifts for these

few people, not really waiting for an answer. Molly hated shopping. Despised it, especially in a crowd of

people, and Kristin knew it. She was amazed she got in and out of the mall without actually

beating somebody to death with her bare hands.

Then, of course, there was Christmas with the family: always fun, but at the same time,

always loud. Being Italian definitely had its disadvantages. Molly loved her clan, but when

her mother and her mother's brothers and sisters all got talking at the same time, the

volume increasing exponentially, none of them listening to anybody but themselves, it was

all she could do to keep from screaming at the top of her lungs, "Shut up!" More often than not, she left her mother's house with a headache and the burning need for several hours

of silence as a remedy.

Easing to a halt at a stop sign, she noted with amusement that there wasn't another car in

sight. She stared past the empty seat on the passenger side, then immediately berated

herself for inviting her mind to slide toward the topic she wanted to ignore. You made a

pact, Mol, she told herself. No wallowing. You 're here to relax, be with your friends, and

have fun. The fact that she was alone in the car was a glaring issue, one she'd been trying

to avoid, and it wasn't like Amy and Jo wouldn't notice. But so be it. Kristin had other

priorities and there was absolutely nothing Molly could do to change that reality.

"I just need to get this contract ironed out, baby," Kristin had told her that morning. "I promise I'll do it as quickly as possible."

Molly was packing for both of them, and Kristin's sudden change in plans had taken her

completely off guard. She held a T-shirt in mid-fold. "What?"

Kristin had smiled that smile, the skin around her crystal blue eyes crinkling. "I promise.

Trust me." When she grinned like that, there was alrnost nothing Molly wouldn't give her, despite how angry, hurt, or disappointed she was. This time, though, Kristin was pushing it.

"But we planned this months ago," Molly said, nearly wincing at the whining tone of her own voice. "You requested this vacation time in September."

Kristin rested her hands on Molly's shoulders. She was taller and stronger and her hands

felt large, holding Molly in place as if she were a doll. Molly resisted the urge to shrug

them off, her irritation beginning to build.

"I know. But Reeves is counting on me to be his right hand here. This could mean big things for the firm, and you know how close he

is to retiring. If I can show him I can handle whatever he throws at me..." Kristin let the sentence dangle in the air, knowing Molly was well aware of what remained unsaid.

Kristin was in line to take over. It wasn't the largest advertising firm in the city, but it was sizable, growing by leaps and bounds, and had a sterling reputation. Once Jack Reeves

retired, the title of president would most likely fall to Kristin. She was constantly

reminding Molly what that would mean for them financially.

Molly had sighed, knowing she wasn't going to win this one, as usual. There was no way to

change Kristin's mind, and she was suddenly just too exhausted to fight about it. "When

will you be able to make it?" she asked, feeling small and defeated and knowing she sounded that way, too.

"I'll be there by Tuesday night, okay? You'll only have to be there for one night without me. One night. I promise."

"We're going to have two cars there now." Grasping at straws.

Kristin shrugged. "That's all right. It won't kill us. No big deal." They stood in silence.

"Okay?" Kristin prodded. Molly's reluctant nod earned her a bear hug from her wife of seven years. When Kristin set her down, she took Molly's face in her hands and kissed her

forehead. "You're the best, Mol."

Surprised by the nearly overwhelming urge to cry that suddenly seeped in on her like warm

water, Molly went back to her packing and barely registered Kristin's departing ritual—the

briefcase, the quick kiss dropped on her mouth,

"I'll see you tomorrow, sweetheart. Be careful driving." Kristin tapped the Blackberry in its holder clipped to her waist. It was her lifeline—a cell phone, mini computer, and PDA all in

one—and Molly hated it. "Call me if you need me." As she left the room, she tossed over her shoulder, "I love you."

"Love you, too," Molly muttered.

Standing alone in their bedroom, she felt like a child who'd been left behind. She glanced

at the bed and tried to remember the last time they'd made love. It had been months, she

was sure—she couldn't recall the last time Kristin had even looked at her with any inkling

of sexual interest. The tears came then and she'd been powerless to stop them. She sat

down on the bed, dropped her face into her hands, and wept openly, letting all the pain and

frustration overcome her.

Now, an hour away from her home and partner, she sat in her Honda Accord and felt

annoyed that she hadn 't put up a fight. She was beginning to feel as if Kristin's order of

priorities went something like this: Reeves & Associates, their personal finances, and then Molly. She was sure if she added it all up, she actually got much less of Kristin's time than any of her clients or coworkers. And when had Kristin become so focused on money? Had

she been like that seven years ago when they'd first begun dating?

Molly pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to stave off the gnawing beginnings of a

headache. It was a pain that had recently become familiar and didn't seem like it was

leaving any time soon. Gritting her teeth, she punched the power button on the CD player

and let Gretchen Wilson sing to her about being a redneck. Tears pooled in her eyes but

she refused to let them spill, angry with herself for allowing her brain to take her down

this well-known, over-traveled path yet again. She was sick of crying all the time. She was

going to have fun this week, damn it. She was going to have fun if it killed her.

Forcing herself to concentrate on the beauty of nature that surrounded her, Molly was

able to calm down ever so slightly. Upstate New York had everything, she reflected as she

drove; it was one of the amazing benefits of this part of the United States. You could live

and work in the heart of the city, as she and Kristin did, but within an hour of driving, you could find yourself in the middle of the countryside. Cow-filled pastures, sprawling farms,

even vineyards were scattered across the northern parts of the state, easily accessible to

anybody willing to sit in the car for a bit.

Civilization was beginning to spread out, away from downtown, even beyond the suburbs, as

people realized they could live in the "country" and still commute to the city each day. Yes, it was a longer drive each morning and night, but for some, the ability to leave work, drive

home, and sit in the open back yard listening to crickets and watching fireflies was much

more appealing than the sounds of traffic or the wailing of the occasional police siren. And

there were people like Amy and Jo, who loved both lifestyles and were hard-pressed to

choose between them so they didn't choose at all. They kept a place in the city, worked

during the week, and spent weekends and vacations far away from the hustle and bustle of

downtown. Amy often said their cabin in

the woods felt a million miles away from her everyday life. If you could afford it, it was

the best of both worlds.

The rolling hills on either side of Molly's car were gorgeous no matter what time of year.

Right now, they were covered with snow, the trees bare, branches poking upward like dark,

bony fingers in sharp contrast to the color of the sky. White to brown to brilliant blue, the distinction was clear cut and precise, as if the landscape had been cut with scissors out of

construction paper and pasted together, a project created by one of Molly's young

students to be hung on the refrigerator at home.

In the summer, the difference was less defined, the white of the snow replaced by dozens

of varying shades of green with sporadic splashes of color...grass, leaves, wildflowers, apple trees. It constantly amazed her how the different seasons could bring about such

completely opposite color schemes. Molly said often that she really wanted to retire to

someplace warmer, someplace with no winter at all, but she knew deep down that in the

very soul of her being, she'd miss the change of seasons. They were in her blood. They

were a part of her childhood and a part of her now and she wasn't entirely sure she could

survive being stuck in an eternal summer, no matter how much she despised being cold.

She slowed the car slightly, going from memory now, even though it had been a long while

since she'd visited Amy's cabin, and she'd ridden with Amy, so hadn't really paid much

attention to the directions. Recognizing the split-wood fence marking the property, she

made a right and turned into the impeccably clear driveway, smiling at the fact that Jo had

been hard at work that morning to clear the snow for her friends.

Molly could already taste the cleanliness of the country air that had worked its way

through the car vents during the ride. As she turned off the ignition and got out of the

car, she inhaled gradually and let the breath out bit by bit, trying hard to erase the worry

and stress from her mind. She knew instinctively that a warm fire and a glass of wine were

waiting for her inside. A smile touched her lips as the front door of the cabin flew open

and Amy appeared in all her red-haired glory, arms outstretched, shouting her pet name

for Molly as if it had been years rather than a month since they'd seen each other last.