The Right Time (64 page)

Moving toward the bed, Kate started to strip out of her scrubs. “Is that a genuine question?” Her eyes settled on the bed, with a look of such longing Hennessy’s heart skipped a beat. She’d never be able to understand how chronically tired Kate was. She dropped to the bed, still in her underwear.

“I would have guessed you’d be glad to have me gone,” Hennessy said.

Kate’s hand extended, gripped Hennessy by the wrist and pulled her down. “We can’t have discussions like that when I’m on my way to work, Boudreaux. It’s asking for trouble.”

“Then when are we supposed to have them? You don’t have a day off until Friday. I can’t stuff everything down, waiting for your schedule to open up.”

The pain in her eyes was still so vivid it hurt Hennessy to take it in. “Most major decisions can wait a couple of days. But you were so anxious to get moving on this…” She trailed off, gazing down at her hands, lying atop her thighs. That was so unlike her, sitting there looking so impotent. Kate was usually full of energy, decisive, determined. Her whole affect threw Hennessy off her game.

“It’s a big deal,” she said. “I couldn’t accept a job without talking to you.”

“You didn’t
talk
to me,” Kate said, anger once again sharpening her gaze. “You informed me. There’s a huge difference.”

That got in. Hennessy winced at the truth of Kate’s accusation. She hadn’t wanted her input. She only wanted to notify her and start packing. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Instinctively, her head settled atop Kate’s shoulder and she sighed when a comforting arm tucked around her waist. “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking of you nearly as much as I should have. I was just so excited…”

“I can see that. But think of how this looks to me.” She gently gripped Hennessy’s chin and tilted it so they looked into each other’s eyes. “You worked like a maniac to get your degree and finish your book. Then you got two excellent tenure-track offers, neither of which you want to take. So you kept interviewing, trying hard to get the perfect job in the perfect place. Everything’s going in one direction, Hennessy. Point A to point B to point C. Then Townsend sweeps in and you’re ready to throw everything away to do something completely out of left field.” She was clearly trying to stay calm, but her fingers kept compressing tighter.

Hennessy grasped her hand and held it to keep from being unintentionally bruised. It
did
look bad. Awful really. Her mouth was dry as she tried to explain herself with some degree of clarity. “I got on this path and haven’t stopped to make sure it’s the path I want,” she said, her pulse starting to pound in her veins. “When I heard about Townsend’s job it hit me like a ton of bricks, Kate. Teaching adults—small groups of adults who really want to learn—is what I want to do. Even better, this job will give me time to write.
Fiction.
Something professors don’t do.”

“There’s no rule against that. They can’t stop you from being creative.”

“Having all of your students, much less your peers read your work is disincentive enough. No one has to tell you not to do it.”

Kate stood, quickly dropped her remaining clothing and headed for the bathroom, Hennessy trailing behind. After putting her hair up to keep it dry, Kate got into the shower and flinched when the cold water hit her in the face. Hennessy leaned against the sink, watching her, hurting over Kate’s pointed rejection. They almost always showered together, an intimacy she loved.

“How long have you hated teaching?” Kate asked, cleaning herself in quick, workmanlike fashion. Probably the same way she scrubbed up for surgery. “And why haven’t you ever mentioned you hate the whole fucking point of your job?”

“I don’t hate teaching,” Hennessy said. “I’ve loved every minute of every creative writing seminar I’ve led. It’s the big survey courses I hate. The ones where I feel like I have to tap dance to capture anyone’s attention.” She took a breath. “I not only hate doing it, I’m not particularly good at it.” That was hard to admit. She’d always thought you could work your way past any limitations, but that simply wasn’t true. “It’s going to drain me over time. I can feel it in my bones.”

Only two minutes had passed when Kate leaned over and shut off the taps. Hennessy handed her a towel, but didn’t try to help dry her. The “stop” sign was definitely up.

“I should know that,” Kate said. She briskly rubbed the towel over her body, tossed it aside, then started to floss her teeth.

Hennessy moved over to hang the towel up, then watched Kate. Everything she did was honed down to the quickest, most efficient way to accomplish her objective. She hadn’t been this way when they’d met. Back then, she moved around like a cat, sensual, slow, always seeking pleasure. Part of her allure was how lighthearted and playful she’d been. But the burden of holding people’s lives in her hands had drained much of the joy from her. So much change, all of it sneaking up on them.

Hennessy put her hand on Kate’s warm back. “We don’t have a normal relationship, baby.” Kate’s eyes popped wide open, with Hennessy looking into her reflection in the mirror. “I’m not complaining. I don’t work as hard as you do, but I crank out at least sixty hours a week. We’ve had to drop all of the little things just to stay afloat. It’s like living a highlight reel.”

Kate was brushing her teeth now, the brush moving across the enamel so quickly it seemed robotic. She spit into the sink, then cupped her hand and rinsed her mouth with a sip of water. This time she took Hennessy’s hand as they went back into the bedroom. Small progress.

Kate sat on the bed again, with Hennessy sitting next to her. “You’re right. I’ve got a head full of things when I get home. Things I should probably talk about.” She closed her eyes and rubbed at them with her fists. “But I want to forget everything that upsets me at work. You probably do the same thing.”

Her body language was loosening up now, making Hennessy sure she could hold her. Snaking an arm around her back, she pulled her close. Kate rubbed her face against Hennessy’s shoulder like a contented cat. “I have this list of things I need to talk to you about. Like that stupid job down in Columbia.”

Hennessy froze, still wounded about Kate hiding that from her. “A job in Columbia isn’t stupid, Kate. Your working there would make things so much easier for me—”

Kate sat up and broke in. “Even working worse hours than I do now? Taking whatever shift someone else doesn’t want? The worst vacation weeks?”

“What? Why would—?”

“You wouldn’t let me explain this morning. Are you sure you want to hear now?” She looked like a kid who’d been falsely accused of breaking something.

“Of course I do.” Hennessy leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’m sorry I was so obnoxious this morning.”

That merited just a head nod. She was clearly still hurt. “A bunch of guys set up a partnership to staff the ERs in four different hospitals down there. They’re looking for a couple of rookies, who probably won’t ever be partners, who they can treat like interns. At least that’s what it looks like to me.”

“Is that…common?”

“More and more,” she said, flopping back onto the bed. “The hospital doesn’t have to have staff sitting around when things are slow, their insurance rate’s lower. All sorts of benefits for the hospital to farm out their critical care. But I’d be running from one place to another, probably stuck on nights for a long, long time.” She let out a bitter laugh. “Until they hire someone lower on the totem pole than me.”

“That sounds like an awful job,” Hennessy said quietly. She lay down and turned her head to gaze at Kate’s profile. “That’s not what I want for you, baby.”

Kate met her eyes. “We’re never going to both get what we want, Boudreaux. Maybe we should get over the dream right now and figure out how to settle for something we won’t hate.”

“Not yet,” Hennessy said, reaching over to caress Kate’s pale cheek. “We don’t have to do that yet.” Kate’s body was limp and pliable, and she easily gave in to Hennessy’s tugging. As their bodies met, she sighed heavily. “I’ll try this for a year while you keep looking for the perfect job. Maybe I’ll be able to start a writing program in that mythical, perfect city, where you find the ideal job.” She kissed her cheek. “Then we’d have exactly what we both want.”

“Three weeks?” Kate asked softly, getting back to the immediate issue. “That’s all we have?”

“It’ll seem like more. I’m going to stay on your schedule,” Hennessy promised. “Then we’ll have more time together.” She tickled under her chin. “We might even talk to each other.”

Kate shifted to sit up slightly. A warm, but faint smile met Hennessy’s gaze. “Can we sleep first? I’m too tired to think straight.”

Hennessy pushed her to her back, then ran a hand all over her body, smiling when goosebumps broke out wherever that hand touched. With a sweet kiss, she looked down at her, hoping her love showed in her eyes. “First, I’m gonna give you a sedative. I know exactly what the doctor likes.”

Sitting on the dock
, so attuned to every noise that she twitched each time a fish flopped in the water, Hennessy pulled her bare legs up and wrapped her arms around them. It was hot. Hotter than Hades. So hot the flies languidly hovered near the weathered, grey deck planks, unable to get much altitude. It was the last day of May, and she’d only been in Beaufort for twenty-four hours, but it was clear her body believed spring was generally cool, drizzly, and overcast. That was in the past. May in South Carolina was summer, and her system was going to have to work to acclimate—quickly.

Her mind was playing tricks on her. When she thought of Townsend pulling up in her car, the girl she imagined was eighteen—painfully thin, skin as pale as parchment, a jaded, careworn expression incongruous upon her youthful features. That image hadn’t yet been pushed aside by the two encounters they’d had last month. Her brain had some catch-up work to get in sync with today’s Townsend; fit not frail, a healthy glow to her cheeks, and a lighthearted smile that seemed to spring from true contentment.

They hadn’t spoken much, just a few quick calls to firm up some details. She had a feeling Townsend would have been calling often, but she was being very respectful of Hennessy’s limited time with Kate.

Kate.
Their last weeks together had passed in an instant. Hennessy was truly going to miss the hell out of her. They didn’t spend as much time together as they’d like, but they shared a home, a life, a love that bound them to each other even when they missed a day or two sleeping together.

There had been so many times in the last weeks she’d itched to call Townsend. To quiz her on what she was up to—laboring down in Hilton Head all on her own. Hennessy could have easily spent hours on the phone, barely digging into her list of questions. But Kate was her priority, and she focused on her to the exclusion of every other issue. Besides, she knew she’d catch up no matter how much Townsend had gotten done. She had home field advantage, after all.

In the distance, oyster shells began to crack and she jumped to her feet and dusted off the seat of her shorts. Right on time. The old Townsend, the one who went out of her way to ignore deadlines—was obviously a thing of the past.

A tiny car, no bigger than a flea, moved slowly down the road, white dust forming a cloud that nearly enveloped it. Hennessy walked up to the bright blue thing and slapped her hands on the roof, making Townsend jump. The window rolled down, and she angled her chin towards it. “A welcome to South Carolina kiss,” Townsend demanded.

Hennessy dutifully leaned over and placed one on her cheek. Then her nose started to twitch. “Why does your car smell like a little bit of heaven?”

The window went back up, then the door opened. Townsend got out, stuck her arms out at her sides and took an obvious breath. “All I can smell is the unique scent of my new home.” Her head cocked and she asked, “Why’s it so much worse some times than others?”

“Smell? Worse?” Hennessy grabbed her chest and stumbled backwards. “You think the magnificent aroma of pluff mud is bad? Damn girl, if I could, I’d bottle it and sell it to people who’ve been forced to move away. I’d be rich!”

“Pluff mud?”

“You spent a whole summer in the Low Country and never thought to ask about pluff mud?”

“I’m asking now.” Townsend walked over to the passenger side and opened the door.

“Well, I can’t say as how I know its composition. Probably millions of years of runoff and decomposed fish and birds and anything else that falls into the water. And you smell it more at low tide…obviously. That’s when you can see it, too. I’ll give you a bit of fair warning. Don’t ever try to walk on a tidal flat. You can sink in past your hips in two seconds flat.”

Townsend stopped and stared at her. “Why in the world would I walk on a tidal flat?”

Shrugging, Hennessy said, “I can’t know that. I’m just trying to make you a little more binya than comya.”

“Translation?”

“Gullah term for natives versus…others.”

“I don’t have to learn Gullah do I?”

“Nah. I don’t know much, and I’m a binya.” Hennessy poked her head inside the car and nodded. “Two cardboard boxes covered with grease stains.” Her grin grew bigger. “Where did you find barbecue?”

Townsend took one of the boxes, holding it like a Northerner, well away from her neatly ironed gingham-checked green shirt. “I had to take my grandmother to the airport in Savannah, so I hunted around on the internet, looking for places with glowing reviews.” With a wink, she added, “I wasn’t about to have your grandparents cook for me after they’ve been working all day, and given that I know you’ve missed barbecue, this seemed like a perfect option.”

“How do you know I missed barbecue?” Hennessy asked as she scampered to keep up with Townsend’s determined gait.

“Because you mentioned it about forty times when we were at camp together. And given that I know you never get anything authentic in Boston…” Her smile was so charming Hennessy’s breath caught in her throat. “I figured you were due.”

“I’m damned glad to see you,” Hennessy said as she anxiously jiggled the knob to open the door. “And even gladder to wrap my mouth around some real South Carolina barbecue, the clearest sign God loves us and wants us to be happy.”