The Lonely Hearts Club (26 page)

“We’ve been over that. Besides, it was on my way, and I know you’re always up early. When you didn’t answer the buzzer, I assumed you were at the office and I thought I’d wait.”

“And take a shower and make coffee?”

Julia shrugged. “Why not.”

“I have the papers from your attorney about the condo. I’ll look at them this week.”

“I didn’t come here to talk about the condo.” Julia settled onto the sofa next to Liz and rested one hand on Liz’s thigh. “I came to talk about us.”

“You left, remember? You have a new lover. There’s nothing to talk about.”

“I don’t think we should be hasty,” Julia said calmly.

Liz laughed, beginning to suspect she’d tumbled into the Twilight Zone. “Hasty? There wasn’t anything hasty about your six-month affair. And there wasn’t anything hasty about the last two years of our relationship, when we’d been sharing the same space and nothing else.”

“I’ll admit, I made some bad choices and I’m sorry. But we have a lot of years together, and I don’t think we should just throw those all away.”

Liz shifted as far away as she could, but Julia leaned closer. Abruptly, Liz stood to escape Julia’s touch. They
did
need to talk—there were things she needed to say. “I’m not blaming you for everything that happened between us. I didn’t do anything when I realized we were drifting apart. But we
did
drift apart, and you found someone else.”

“I had an affair. That’s not the same thing.”

“The distinction escapes me.”

“Look, I’ll stop seeing her.”

“You mean you haven’t yet?” Liz shook her head. “You come here wanting us to resume our relationship, but you haven’t told your girlfriend about it?”

Julia was silent.

“I don’t want a relationship with you,” Liz said, recognizing the truth of her words and feeling the anger melt away. “Whatever we had between us has been gone for a long time. It’s time for us to move on. Both of us.”

“Maybe it
is
too late to go back,” Julia said, rising. She stepped close to Liz and put her arms around Liz’s neck. “But we can go forward. I promise, I’ve learned my lesson.”

“I’m pregnant, Julia.”

Julia’s eyes widened and Liz felt her stiffen for just an instant. Then she relaxed and smiled.

“Why, that’s wonderful darling. And all the more reason why we should be togeth—”

“No,” Liz said, grasping Julia’s arms and removing them from around her neck. “It’s the most important reason why we shouldn’t be together. You didn’t want this baby, and I won’t raise my child with someone who isn’t going to be there for both of us with her whole heart.”

“You’d rather be alone?” Julia asked incredulously.

Liz smiled and lightly touched her abdomen. “I’m not alone.”

Julia’s eyes grew stormy. “Now who’s not being truthful. You’ve found someone else. That certainly didn’t take long.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I haven’t.” Liz shook her head. “I’d really like it if you’d get dressed and leave now.”

“Fine,” Julia snapped. “Have you told your new girlfriend about your little bundle of joy?”

“I told you I’m not—”

“Five-eight, short black hair, a nice hard body, and hot eyes?”

Liz caught her breath. “What?”

“She was here. She brought bagels. I rang her up because I was curious about your early morning visitor.”

“Please go,” Liz said, turning her back and walking into the kitchen. A bag of bagels from her favorite deli sat on the counter.
Reilly. Oh Reilly
.

*

Bren hurried upstairs to her office as soon as Candace left. She dropped into her desk chair and then halted abruptly with her fingers poised over the keyboard. What if there was no message? What if last night had been a test and she’d failed? What if Jae had only been playing an elaborate game and now that they’d met in person, the game had lost its appeal?

Perhaps it was better to leave fantasies where they belonged, in the realm of the possible but the unrealized. That way, dreams would never become disappointments. With a sigh, Bren logged on to her Melanie Richards website to update her blog. All of the messages were routine, and she answered some, trying to ignore her disappointment when she saw nothing that might have been from Jae. Then she checked her regular email and finally opened her Melanie email account. There were dozens of unread messages, but she saw only one header.

Last night…

Holding her breath, Bren opened the message.

I did what you told me to do. I wanted to come as soon as I got backstage, but I waited until I was home in bed because you told me to. You didn’t say I couldn’t, so I came twice, thinking about you in my mouth.

Bren’s heart nearly pounded out of her chest. Jae hadn’t climaxed on the stage when the faceless woman had teased her, but Bren knew what she looked like, what she smelled like, what she sounded like when she was excited. Bren remembered the barely perceptible brush of Jae’s hot body against hers, and the way her breath tore in and out of her chest. Bren trembled as her body quickened, and now
she
was the one who wanted to come. Instead, she typed.

If I had wanted you to come more than once, I would have given you permission.

Then she did in the hardest thing she’d ever done in her life. She turned off her computer, got up, and walked away.

*

Liz walked around Reilly’s block for the fourth time. What if Reilly wasn’t home? Worse, what if Reilly wasn’t alone? What if she had read things completely wrong the night before, and Reilly
had
been with Parker just as Candace suspected. Or maybe after running into Julia, Reilly had decided that Parker was a much better choice of women to date.

“We’re not dating anyway,” Liz muttered.

Still, she couldn’t bear the thought of Reilly thinking that she and Julia were…anything. She paused at the corner where she had picked Reilly up the morning they’d had breakfast, and the image of Reilly in jeans and a T-shirt, looking windblown and sexy, made her stomach tighten. With a sigh, she started around the block again. The sound of a car horn brought her up short, and she looked into the street. Reilly idled in her convertible, the top down and a puzzled expression on her face.

“Hi,” Liz called, feeling inane and absurdly happy at the same time.

“You need a ride somewhere?”

Liz shook her head. “No, I’m not going anywhere.”

Reilly grinned. “That sounds serious.”

Laughing, Liz walked over to the passenger side and leaned her arms on the door. “You’re blocking traffic.”

“Why don’t I take you on a ride to somewhere, then?”

Reilly’s eyes were steady on Liz’s face, dark and filled with possibilities. Liz didn’t hesitate, but pulled the door open and quickly slid into the passenger seat. “Yes.”

Reilly didn’t speak again until they were speeding north on Interstate 95. Liz didn’t mind Reilly’s silence. She could sense her just a few feet away as clearly as if they were touching. Feeling better than she had all day, she relaxed with her head back, the warm sun on her face and a cool breeze streaming through her hair. She had left her apartment with the single intention of telling Reilly that Julia was not part of her life any more, but she didn’t want to talk about Julia now. For just a few moments, all she wanted was to absorb the pleasure of being with Reilly.

After a few minutes she turned her head and watched Reilly as she drove, one hand draped over the gear shift, her fingers lightly caressing the round leather knob. Her arms were tanned below the sleeves of her polo shirt, and her black jeans hugged her long tight thighs. As usual, she wore running shoes. Liz had never met a woman who looked so sexy without even trying.

“Parker get home okay?” Liz asked.

“I was just coming back from driving her to the train station when I saw you,” Reilly said, her eyes on the road. “She had a headache and needed to take a pain pill, and I didn’t want her behind the wheel.”

“She stayed overnight with you,” Liz said, hoping she sounded casual.

“Yes. She was in no shape to go anywhere else last night.”

“You’re right. It was good of you to look after her.”

Reilly glanced at her briefly. “How late did you stay?”

“Not too much longer after you left. Right after Bren got treated to a lap dance.”

“No kidding. Not by the one with the six-guns, I hope.”

Liz laughed. “No, the last one.”

“The one in leather who was getting…ah…fondled up on stage?”

“That’s the one. I think you were outside with Parker when she did her encore with Bren.”

“Birthday present?”

“Maybe, but not from Candace and me. I think it was actually a date—sort of.”

“Damn, I missed a lot. I did see Candace getting it on with someone at the bar.”

“Yes.”

“Parker’s a little messed up about that,” Reilly said quietly.

“So is Candace.”

“Well then, I guess they’ll work it out one way or the other.”

“I hope so.”

“Are you hungry?” Reilly asked.

Liz realized it was after five and she hadn’t eaten anything since the croissant at breakfast. After Julia had finally left, she had curled up on the couch, tired from the late night and upset that Reilly might have gotten the wrong impression about Julia being at her apartment. She’d fallen into an uneasy sleep plagued by dark dreams and had awakened unrefreshed and restless. Without any clear plan, she’d showered and dressed and walked to Reilly’s apartment.

“I missed lunch.”

“That’s not good.”

“My schedule is a bit off today.”

“I know a little restaurant in New Hope. I think you’ll like it.”

Liz turned in the seat and covered Reilly’s hand where it rested on the gear shift. “Would you mind if I took a rain check on that?”

“No,” Reilly said quickly. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“You know what I’d like? I’d like it if you could find an old-fashioned roadside hotdog stand. I’d really love a chocolate milkshake and a grilled cheese sandwich.”

“O-kay,” Reilly said, drawing out the word. She turned her hand and briefly clasped Liz’s. “One case of indigestion, coming up.”

*

Twenty minutes later, Reilly carried a tray with two milkshakes, a hamburger, a grilled cheese sandwich, and an order of fries back to the car, where Liz waited with her head back and her eyes closed. Reilly hesitated before opening the door, indulging herself in the pleasure of looking at Liz. The sunlight brought out the slivers of golden flame in her hair, and she seemed so peaceful that Reilly hated to wake her.

“I can smell the food,” Liz said with her eyes still closed. “If you don’t get in here this second, I can’t vouch for your safety.”

Laughing, Reilly pulled the door open and slid into her seat. She balanced the tray in her lap and picked up Liz’s chocolate milkshake.

“You sure about this?”

“Give me that,” Liz ordered sternly, spreading open a napkin in her lap.

Reilly passed it over. “I didn’t ask for pickles. Should I have asked for pickles?”

“I don’t like pickles. But I want that sandwich.”

“Here you go.” Reilly munched her burger while enjoying Liz’s small murmurs of contentment. “How’s the morning sickness?”

Liz stiffened slightly. “Fine. No problems.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to get personal.”

“Reilly, you held my head while I vomited. We’re way past worrying about personal, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know, are we?” Reilly put her hamburger aside and passed Liz the French fries. “Want some?”

“Thanks.” Liz finished her grilled cheese and started in on the fries. “I had an ultrasound this week. I really got it then that this is happening. Really happening.”

“How so?”

“Well it’s not like it looks like much of anything,” Liz said, “but I heard its heartbeat. I heard it. It’s growing inside me.” She stared at Reilly. “I can’t explain exactly how freaky that is. And amazing, too.”

Reilly felt a swift stab of pain. She’d never seen an ultrasound of Annie’s fetus. She looked at Liz and felt a million things she’d never felt for Annie. Protective, awestruck, strangely reverent, and constantly excited.

“I’m sorry. Is this hard for you? Because of Annie?”

Reilly shook her head. “Do you have it with you?”

“What?” Liz asked, confused.

“The ultrasound.”

Liz blushed, then reached on the floor where she’d set her purse and rummaged around in it. “Here.”

Reilly took the 4 x 5 inch Polaroid carefully and slanted it so the sunlight didn’t glare off the surface. Among the shadows, she picked out a dark oval surrounding an irregular white crescent. She ran her finger over the tiny shape. “Look at that.”