As time passed, Melanie loosened up and enjoyed herself. The crowd increased in size the
later it got. More women arrived and the DJ started up. Melanie was on her fourth beer,
feeling much more relaxed. She chatted with Julie and Lynda's friends on and off, but mostly,
she stood with her back against the bar, just watching.
The rain was falling harder and the increase in bodies was making the temperature in the little
bar climb steadily. Hot and sweaty figures were writhing against one another on the dance
floor. Melanie watched them with amusement and a little bit of envy. She was awed by the
moves some of the people displayed, and she tapped her foot to the pounding rhythm.
She was physically jarred out of her surveillance when the woman at the bar next to her
attempted to lean her elbow on the edge and missed completely. Whatever liquid was in the
rock glass she held ended up splashing over Melanie's hip, absorbing warmly into the leg of her
jeans.
"Oh my God, I'm sorry," the woman exclaimed, grabbing a handful of napkins from the holder on the bar and clumsily attempting to clean Melanie up. She had chestnut-colored hair cut in a
bob and stood an inch or two shorter than Melanie. She swiped uselessly at the stain with
fumbling hands.
"It's okay," Melanie assured her, trying to politely avoid the help.
"I'm such a klutz," she said. "I can't do anything right."
"Hey, it's no big deal," Melanie laughed, attempting to lighten the mood. "They're just jeans.
Don't worry about it.
When the woman looked up, Melanie was surprised to see her startlingly green eyes bloodshot
and rimmed with tears. She grabbed the woman's trembling hands to stop her from cleaning,
and ducked to look her directly in the eye. "Really. It's okay." She smiled her warmest smile.
"Really."
The woman shut her eyes tightly and tossed the napkins onto the bar with a grimace. She took
a second to compose herself, swiping angrily at her eyes. Then she cleared her throat and held
her now-empty glass up for the bartender to see. He slid another one her way in a matter of
seconds. The woman took a sip, visibly relaxing as the liquid entered her system. Melanie
watched in awe as a calm, cool, in-control facade settled over the frazzled, upset one that had
been there a minute ago. The transformation was incredible and instantaneous. She looked like
a totally different person. Slowly, Melanie came to the realization that this was a woman who
probably spent a lot of time here, or someplace just like it...that the liquid in her glass was like air to her.
Glancing at her recently drained bottle of beer, Melanie quickly ordered herself a Coke.
It was strangely comforting, not to mention somewhat arousing to watch the couples around
her, especially the women. Many were holding hands or locked together at the lips, but it was
the couples that were very subtly, but at the same time very obviously together, that
fascinated her. It was the casual touch on the hip, the gentle stroking of a cheek, the
affectionate brushing aside of a stray lock of hair, that entranced Melanie. She watched them
with a mix of emotions... pleased that they were in a place where they could feel comfortable
enough to be themselves, envious because she wasn't part of it.
She thought about her life, up to that point. She really had nobody special... hadn't ever. Only
John, her boyfriend in college, the first man she'd slept with... clumsy and inept as the two of
them had been together. Although she hadn't been in love with John, she had loved him very
much, and she knew the feelings were reciprocated. When they had finally gotten around to
going their separate ways, it had been hard, but necessary. John had admitted, at long last,
what Melanie had suspected for some time: he preferred the company of men. They'd said a
tearful, but not bitter goodbye, and his parting words had echoed in her head for years.
Maybe you should take a good long look inside yourself, Mel. Don't let life pass you by because
you're too blind or too stubborn to see things for what they are. He'd winked at her, kissed
her on the top of her head, and disappeared out of her life. What the hell had that meant? To
this day, it was still a mystery to her. The only way for her to avoid thinking too deeply about
his warning had been to throw herself into her career, so that's what she had done.
Wholeheartedly and headfirst. As long as she had filled her life with something that took
most of her time and all of her concentration, she hadn't had to dwell on other things. It had
worked, too. She hadn't thought of John in several years. Funny that he would snake his way
into her brain now.
"You seem to be having a pretty good time." Lynda was at her side.
"Actually, I am." Melanie smiled over the edge of her glass.
"Sorry I haven't been very entertaining. Dina and Steph tend to monopolize the conversation,
and it gets harder and harder to break away."
"Oh, don't worry. I'm a big girl."
Lynda narrowed her eyes at her friend, a small battle playing itself out in her mind. She'd had
enough to drink, was sufficiently loose-lipped. She decided to broach the subject she'd been
tiptoeing around for nearly a week. "So, what's the deal with you anyway, Ms. Larson?" She kept the tone playful enough not to be intimidating, but serious enough so Melanie would know
exactly what she was asking
Melanie held Lynda's curious but friendly gaze for a long moment, before turning away and
taking another sip of her Coke.
"When I find out, I'll let you know," she said softly.
Chapter Fourteen
FRIDAY HAD BEEN a blur for Taylor. Work was incredibly busy, but she had managed a quick
trip to the grocery store at lunchtime to pick up what she needed for dinner. She'd even
managed to escape her office an hour and a half sooner than usual, not an easy task with the
phone ringing off the hook as it had been.
Pleased with herself for leaving when she did, she stood in the kitchen in simple nylon shorts
and a T-shirt, chopping zucchini, yellow squash, eggplant, and green peppers for the vegetable
lasagna she was going to cook for Melanie. She had taken a bowl of homemade tomato sauce
out of the freezer that morning to thaw, and all the remaining ingredients were bagged up and
sitting on the kitchen table, complete with a bottle of Riesling from Glenora, Taylor's favorite
local winery. A distant rumble of thunder rolled softly across the gray sky as Taylor scooped
the diced veggies into a Tupperware bowl and added it to the pile going next door.
She took the cooked strips of pasta out of the strainer where they were cooling in the sink,
and deposited them into a Tupperware container as well, adding a little bit of water to keep
them from drying out too much. She smiled as she remembered how she used to tease her
mom about her plastic bowl collection. She looked up as Ben came in the back door.
"Hi, Dad."
"Hiya, T. How was your day?" Ben was pleased to see his daughter in a good mood.
"Not bad. Not bad at all."
He peered over her shoulder. "Mmm. When do we eat?"
Taylor chuckled. "You can eat whenever you want. There's a little pan in the fridge for you.
Pop it in the oven on 375 for about forty-five minutes."
Ben pouted. "What about all this?" He gestured at the bowls and bags, his eyebrows raising at the sight of the wine.
"All this," Taylor mimicked the sweep of his arm, "is for Melanie and me. I'm cooking her dinner at her place... er, Sam's."
"Oh." A flicker of something crossed his handsome features, and Taylor suddenly wished she hadn't just blurted it out like that.
The flicker was gone in an instant, and he smiled a smile that didn't reach his dark eyes.
"Sounds like fun. Tel her I said hello, would you?"
"Sure, Dad."
She watched him depart the kitchen to change out of his suit, and couldn't keep the guilt
from creeping up on her, settling on her shoulders like a boa constrictor.
BEN SIGHED AS he loosened his tie and kicked off his wingtips. He was disappointed. He had
hoped to take Melanie up on her dinner invitation from the previous weekend, but he'd gotten
sidetracked by an overly demanding client. He should have just called her when he'd thought
about it. Maybe he would have beaten Taylor to the punch. Beaten Taylor? Listen to yourself,
man, he scolded his reflection. You're acting like this is some sort of competition.
Wel , it certainly feels like one, the reflection snapped back. Was it? He'd known his daughter
was a lesbian, but he had never spoken to her about it. Not once. Not even a mention. He'd
always left that subject for Anna. She was so much better at sensitive things. He wondered
now if Taylor resented the fact that he'd never talked to her. Maybe he should have. But,
what would he say?
"Honey, I know you're gay. Way to go"? No. It was easier for a man like Benjamin Rhodes to let things be. He was not an emotional guy. Taylor knew that. He would always be there for his
daughter, no matter what. She knew that, too.
Didn't she?
Now, what to do about Melanie...Maybe she'd be free tomorrow night. He'd give her a cal in
the morning. He had thought about her quite a lot over the past few days, and was surprised
to find that he was anxious for her company once again.
But, did she want his?
He wasn't sure where that thought had come from. He furrowed his graying brows as he
pulled on his shorts. She certainly seemed to enjoy his company. And when he'd kissed her,
she hadn't pulled away or acted offended.
Stil , the thought worried him.
MELANIE CHECKED HER appearance one more time in the bathroom mirror, straightening her
T-shirt and running her hands through her hair before hurrying to answer the knock at the
front door. The butterflies in her stomach had morphed into flying saucers, and she was
annoyed at her own nervousness. It was just dinner, for Christ's sake. It was just Taylor.
What was the big deal? She opened the front door.
"Hey." Taylor smiled, her arms full of plastic grocery bags. Melanie laughed at the sight.
"Hey, yourself." She took two of the bags, stepping aside to allow Taylor to enter.
"Did you bring the entire store?" She tried to see what the bags contained. "What's for dinner, dear?"
"Vegetable lasagna. Okay with you?"
"Sounds wonderful."
They lugged their parcels to the small kitchen. Melanie began to snoop in each of them. She
yelped in surprise when her hand was slapped playfully.
"Get out of there," Taylor scolded.
"I was just peeking." Melanie pouted.
If she uses that boo-boo face on me, she'l get anything she wants, Taylor thought with
amusement. "No peeking."
"Can't I help?"
"You can pour the wine."
"Okay." She jumped at the task, searching Sam's kitchen drawers until she found the
corkscrew. She scrutinized the label carefully. "Glenora. Hmm."
"It's one of our local wineries...well, I say local. It's about forty-five minutes from here on Seneca Lake. There's a whole slew of them around here. Glenora happens to be one of my
favorites."
Melanie uncorked the bottle, nodding with appreciation at the aroma that wafted up from the
opening. "I don't think I've ever seen a winery."
"Wel , we'll have to take care of that then, won't we? My friends and I go on a wine tour
every year in the fall. We get a van and one of us is the designated driver. Then, we drive
down by the lakes, and hit all the wineries we come across, tasting any samples they'll give us.
There are dozens of places, and there's really some good stuff around here."
"That sounds like fun."
"It is. Maybe you could come with us on our next tour."
"Maybe I could."
Melanie smiled up at Taylor, who was smiling back, and handed her a glass of wine. The
redhead lifted hers in a toast. "Here's to new friendships."
"To new friendships." They clinked glasses and sipped.
"Oh, that's good," Melanie commented.
"Told you." Taylor turned back to the counter to work on dinner.
Melanie stood on her tiptoes, and peered over Taylor's shoulder at the pan, which Taylor had
coated with a thin layer of sauce and the first level of pasta. She wasn't using any utensils -
other than a spoon for the sauce - just her hands.
"Teach me," Melanie requested softly.
Taylor swallowed hard as Melanie's voice tickled her neck, sending an exciting chill down her
spine. Then she nodded. "Okay.
Come here. Stand here." She grasped the older woman's shoulders, stepping aside to position
Melanie in front of her.
"This is a lot of stuff," Melanie noted, taking in the array of bowls, each containing a
different ingredient.
"Yeah, but it's no big deal. Lasagna is very easy, just construction. You just have to put it
together. It's a layering process. Okay, we've got the first layer of pasta down. Now, grab
that bowl and put a little sauce on the strips."
Melanie spooned some sauce onto the pasta. She felt undeniably safe and warm with Taylor
pressed against her back. "Like this?"
"Yup. Spread it around a bit." After Melanie did as she was told, Taylor moved on. "Next, some veggies."
"Which ones?" Each vegetable was in a different one of the four bowls.
"You're the cook. Your choice."
"Zucchini," she stated confidently, reaching for a fork. Taylor caught her hand.