A Story of Now (48 page)

But Claire also knows there’s only so many more times she’s going to be brave enough to put herself out there. But now,
maybe
, she might not have to.

Mia suddenly breaks from the kiss but only to pull back and stare at Claire for a moment. She gives her an affectionate little smile, places a hand on either side of her face, leans in, and gently meets Claire’s lips with her own again.

Claire closes her eyes and lets her other senses do the work. When she kisses Mia, it’s as if a rush of warmth—a thrill—starts in her stomach and radiates outward through her whole body. It’s not just lust. It’s more than that. But she has no idea what to call it either.

Finally, they break the kiss. And then they sit there for a long, silent time, foreheads pressed together, hand on necks, in hair, on faces, as they re-acquaint themselves with this proximity.

A small burst of tentative happiness wells up in Claire at finding this place with Mia again—with finding that Mia
wants
to be in this place with her. She seriously started to doubt if Mia wanted this at all. She sits back a little and watches as Mia rests her head against the headrest. She runs her fingers in a lingering trail along Claire’s neck and smiles shyly at her.

“You are such a dumb ass,” Claire tells her witheringly as she reaches out and affectionately pulls at a strand of Mia’s dark hair.

Mia laughs quietly and looks contrite again. She takes a hold of Claire’s hand and kisses it. “I know.” She stares at her, her eyes wide. “I
know
.”

“Good.”

“I really missed you.” Mia tenderly presses Claire’s hand between her palms.

Claire takes back the hand and crosses her arms, still stinging a little. “Well, that’s your own stupid fault. I was right here.” She stares out at the quiet street as tears loom again.

“I know,” Mia whispers. She wraps her fingers around Claire’s forearm and pulls her arm back. She takes Claire’s hand again and holds it firmly in her own lap. “I’m so sorry, Claire. I really, really didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just being an idiot. A freaked-out idiot.”

Claire doesn’t say anything, but she turns to face her.

Mia gives her a small, hopeful smile. “Why is it you’re even more beautiful when you’re mad?” she teases. “That’s not fair.”

And that’s it. That’s all it takes. Claire’s done.

She gives Mia an eye-narrowed glare that slowly dissolves into a smile like she knew it would. Because she’s done making Mia feel bad for now. Because Mia’s cradling her hand between both of hers once more. Because she’s staring at Claire with that diffuse, cinnamon warmth in her eyes. Because she’s calling her beautiful again. That’s enough for now.

She knows all she needs to know, for now. But she wants more too. “Are your parents home?” she asks, hopeful.

Mia ducks her head and looks through the window into the darkness. “Yeah.” She turns back to Claire and frowns.

Claire lifts her free hand and smooths her finger over the dip where Mia’s collarbones meet. “That’s annoying.”

“It is.”

“Have you told them anything yet?”

She shakes her head. “It wasn’t the right time with Rosa sick.”

Claire nods. Of course not.

“You know what I wish right now?” Mia asks her as she leans in.

“What?”

“That one of us had our own place.”

“Me too.” Claire sighs and rests her forehead against Mia’s. “God, me too.”

And it’s not just about sex even though that concept
is
taking up a lot of real estate in her mind too. She’d also just like somewhere quiet, somewhere private to just
be
with Mia alone, somewhere that’s not a car or a pantry or a room surrounded by people threatening to invade at any moment. Somewhere they could just take a minute with each other. Somewhere they could actually have some precious alone time to figure out the nature of this thing between them and what it means.

The stroke of Mia’s finger across Claire’s cheek draws her away from her thoughts “I had better go,” she whispers. “I start at six tomorrow morning.”

“Ouch.”

“Yes, ouch.”

Claire sits up and draws in a deep breath. She has one more thing to say before she lets this girl get away from her again and she returns to whatever it is that happens to her ideas about the two of them when Claire isn’t right in front of her. Something that might make the next time they see each other less confusing, less about having to tentatively find their way back to each other. Something that might mean Claire doesn’t have to work quite so hard to convince Mia of what she wants this to be.

She reaches out and grabs Mia by the scruff of her T-shirt. “Okay, but before you go.”

“What?” Mia looks nervous.

“Stop looking like that!” Claire growls and shakes her and laughs. “I just need you to know that when I see you again, which will hopefully be very, very soon, I’m going to want to kiss you again. I’m going to want to kiss you
still
. So
know
that, okay?”

Mia’s smile is radiant. She nods slowly.

Claire lets her go and sits back against the door of the car. “And you know, I don’t know…” Claire says in a small voice. “Maybe
you
could call
me
?” She shrugs, trying to look more relaxed than she feels. “You know, whenever, if you want to.”

Mia stares at her for a long moment. Then she suddenly sits up and nods. She unbuckles her seatbelt and she leans forward. “I have to go.”

“Um, okay.”

“See you.” Mia drops another light kiss on Claire, then abruptly turns, and climbs out of the car.

Claire takes a breath and re-buckles her belt. What was
that
? Then, unable to stop herself, she turns and watches Mia bound up the steps to her apartment, open the front door, and disappear inside. She sighs. Why does she feel as if she never quite knows what’s going on with Mia?

She drives home without even turning on the radio as she mulls over the night. A least now she knows Mia is still into her. That’s a start. But Mia’s shyness? Her reticence with this? Claire still doesn’t completely get it. It feels as though whenever they part she seems to find some kind of misgiving, an uncertainty she hasn’t wanted to—or been able to—explain to Claire. Hopefully she will. And soon.

Claire remembers Mia on the night of her birthday, how even just after that day, she’d somehow retreated a little. As if she was unsure of what they should be together despite everything that happened the night before, everything Mia instigated. And Claire gets the feeling it’s not because she wants to, but for some reason Mia seems to think she should.

Claire pulls up outside her place and parks out on the street. Just as she pulls the keys out of the ignition her phone buzzes on the dash. She picks it up, wondering who is calling this late. It’s Mia. Claire frowns. Why is she calling now? “Hey. What’s up?”

“Nothing. You told me I should call you.”

There’s a smile in her voice. Claire smiles right back, relieved. “I didn’t mean straight away, stupid.”

“No, actually, you told me to call you whenever I wanted to,” Mia corrects her. “And I got inside and I wanted to talk to you.”

“And why do you need to talk to me now, Mia?” Claire asks. She doesn’t really care though. She just wants to keep her talking, glad to hear that gentle smart-ass tone of Mia’s has returned and that it seems to be alive and well.
It’s Mia
. She leans her head against the seat, smiling, and wishes Mia were still in this car with her.

“You didn’t say I had to have anything to say either,” Mia reminds her. “Just when I
wanted
to call you. I missed you. You’re very missable.”

“Oh okay. Sorry.”

“Yeah, so I’ve got nothing unless the fact that I’m sitting in the kitchen drinking a cup of tea is of the slightest bit of interest to you?”

“Milk? Sugar?”

“Neither, actually. It’s mint. Fascinating stuff, hey?”

“Truly.”

They sit there in a protracted but comfortable silence.

“So, when can I see you?”

There’s a slight turbulence in Claire’s stomach, a surge of pleasure at Mia’s sudden forwardness. But that doesn’t stop her wanting to torment her, either. “Well, might I remind you that you could have seen me any time already?”

“I know,” Mia says in a small voice. “I wa—”

Claire interrupts her, over the need to torment. She just wants to see her. “When are you working?”

“Every day but Friday.” Mia sounds relieved. “You?”

“Every night until Sunday.”

“Then I guess I’ll see you on Friday? During the day?”

“Okay.”

“But you know what?”

“What?” Claire asks.

“I’m probably going to call you before then. At least once, but maybe even twice.”

“Good. You owe me. Night,” Claire sasses. But she hangs up smiling.

CHAPTER 60

As soon as she hears the doorbell, nerves hit Claire’s stomach at full throttle. She trots down the stairs and through the living room in her bare feet. Somehow, in the hours since they spoke to each other this morning when they arranged to meet here at the house, Claire has become increasingly tremulous about this impending afternoon visit. But she doesn’t really know why. She’s talked to Mia plenty since their dinner. Mia kept her promise and called Claire whenever she felt the slightest inclination. And now it’s Friday and she’s here, ringing the doorbell finally.

Maybe the nerves are about Mia coming to her house. It’s not ideal, that’s for sure, but there wasn’t really any other option. They can’t go to Mia’s. Her mother is on holidays. And there seems to be a mutual, silent agreement they don’t want to meet somewhere public. Today they need some sort of privacy, space to find their place with each other properly.

They only have a couple of hours, too, as Mia had to go to a promised but forgotten lunch with her mother before coming, and Claire’s parents could be home any time from five onward. And Claire has to work later, too.

She draws in a deep, steadying breath and yanks open the front door. Hot summer air floods in, and Mia’s standing there in cutoff shorts and a tank top, fanning herself. She looks sweaty and uncomfortable, her hair bunched messily at the back of her head.

Mia smiles wide as she walks in. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Claire replies quietly. She moves aside and lets Mia into the relative cool of the house.

Mia swipes her face with her forearm. “Sorry, I’m a sweaty mess. The air con in Dad’s car seems to be broken. Either that or I just broke it. Still want to kiss me?” she teases, eyes twinkling.

A shy nod is all Claire can manage, and she wonders where all her confidence—cockiness even—from the other day has gone. And she wonders where Mia found hers.

“Good.” Mia leans in and drops a light kiss on Claire’s lips.

Claire watches her as she wanders into the living room and feels strangely exposed with Mia in her house all of a sudden. And against her better judgement too. This is the part of her life she could live without Mia seeing for a while longer, this boring, suburban version of Claire, who lives in beige-washed blandness in Nowhereland, Melbourne. It already bears little connection to the person she wants to be or to the way she wants to present herself.

But Mia doesn’t say anything. In fact, she barely seems to notice the living room as she crosses the sea of neutral carpet. She stops briefly to glance at a photograph, and then, like an insect attracted to light, she walks straight over to the glass doors that look out into the back garden. Claire watches as she folds her arms and gazes out to the backyard. Yes, it definitely feels odd to have Mia here in her house.

As though Mia has somehow heard her anxious thoughts, she turns around and smiles at Claire. “Now that’s an advantage to growing up in the suburbs. Room for a pool.”

Claire plays with her earring and stares across the room, still somewhat paralysed. “True, I guess.”

Mia turns and considers her. She reaches back and lifts some hair that has strayed down onto her neck and wraps it into the knot of her hair. Then she tips her head to one side. “Are you okay?”

Claire nods and folds her arms across her chest. She stares at the beige carpet and rubs at the pile with her foot. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Let’s go outside,” Mia suggests as if maybe she can tell that the house might be playing some part in stifling Claire’s ability to act normal. She slides open the door.

Claire follows her onto the small terrace. It’s hot and windless outside, but most of the garden is in shade. The afternoon sun has already fallen behind the tall trees that line the fence. They stand side by side and both contemplate the backyard. Claire hasn’t been out here in ages, not even to swim. She recalls how her father talked about removing the pool the last time she was out here with him. It’s a round, above ground thing, built in the partial shade of a stand of tall birches, a planting decision her father bemoaned every time he had to clean the leaves out of it.

Mia shades her eyes. “In fact, another great thing about living out here, a backyard in general. Our apartment is pretty big, but we don’t even have a balcony.”

“Yeah, but you got to grow up downtown,” Claire counters. “Close to everything.”

Mia shakes her head. “Right now, nothing you can say will convince me that it was better. Not when I am this hot and I’m standing here looking at your big beautiful backyard with its swimming pool.”

“
Okay
, Mia.”

“In fact, Claire?” She takes Claire’s hand in hers and shakes it.

“What?”

“I think I have to get in your pool.”

“Is that so?” Claire squeezes her hand.

“I am so hot and so cranky right now I don’t think I can actually focus on anything, even you, until I have been in that body of cold water.”

“You don’t seem that cranky. But by all means, if that’s how you feel, Mia, then you should get in the pool.” She lets go of her hand and pushes her away.

That’s all the invitation Mia needs. She marches over, climbs up the short ladder and down the other side, and lowers herself into the water without even flinching.