Doublecrossed (26 page)

“Oh.” Callie didn’t need to say more. It was clear the call had upset Regan, so it was a waste of energy to ask her to restate the obvious.

“It really took me by surprise, oddly enough. I guess…I guess I underestimated her perseverance.”

“You don’t get her job without having a lot of that.”

“True. But she’s not the kind of woman to risk humiliation. Coming back after the last time really took a lot for her.” She gazed at Callie. “I respect her for that.”

Callie’s heartbeat started to quicken. A nagging fear she’d been consciously ignoring made her stomach flip. Angela was a woman Regan had dearly loved, and if she wanted her back that was how it had to be. That’s what true friends did, and no matter what, being a good friend had to be paramount.

Luckily, the next words out of Regan’s mouth put her mind at ease. “It hurt to tell her no again, but it didn’t hurt as much as last time.” She gave Callie a sad, lopsided smile. “Practice pays off.”

“Aww.” Callie put her hand around Regan’s arm and they walked closely together, slowly making their way up and down every dock. A speeding bullet-dodged. Angela’s bad fortune was cause for a guilty, silent celebration. “How are you feeling now?”

“Okay. Kinda.” They walked a few more steps. “Sad. Really sad.”

Callie held her arm more tightly while they strolled along at a slow pace. “I’m happy to listen to anything you want to say. But if you want quiet, you’ve got it.”

“Thanks.” Regan disentangled and slung her arm around Callie’s shoulders. Just as she did every time this happened, Callie took in a breath, hoping to catch just a bit of Regan’s scent. It reminded her of a dusky red rose that grew in a yard near her apartment, and she assumed it was from a lotion or powder or some product she used. But she secretly hoped that Regan just naturally smelled like a beautiful flower.

They walked for at least half an hour, with Callie listening to the quiet sounds of the water and the occasional metallic clink from rigging hitting a mast or the groan of a tightening line. Regan broke the quiet. “Sit down with me?”

“Sure.” They went out to the jetty, a long, built-up profusion of rocks that stretched out into the water. It was wide enough to walk on, and now, at low tide, it was safe to sit and dangle their feet in the cool water.

Once they were settled, Regan said, “There’s a feeling I’ve been fighting.”

“Fighting? That sounds serious.”

“It is, kinda. It’s the feeling that Angela really might be able to make some of the changes I wanted her to make.”

“Uhm, what’s there to fight about?” Her heart started to beat wildly again.

Regan was looking out at the water, her eyes focused beyond the horizon. “Even if she can, I don’t want to give her another chance.”

She said this with such cold detachment that Callie strangely felt sorry for Angela. But then Regan looked at her and Callie could see the sorrow in her eyes. “Does that make me coldhearted?”

“No, of course not.” Callie put her hand on Regan’s bare thigh, tamping down her desire to squeeze the solid muscles she’d developed from running. “She broke your trust. It’s perfectly understandable that you don’t want to give her another chance to hurt you again.”

“It’s not that,” Regan said immediately. “Mostly.”

Callie sat, poised, waiting for more.

“It’s partly about sex.”

“Go on.”

“Even when we were having sex pretty often…like in the first year…it was never quite right.” She grew quiet again, and her gaze returned to the void.

Callie wasn’t about to start peppering her with questions, so she started to gently pat Regan’s leg, settling into a soothing cadence.

After a few minutes, Regan seemed to open up and she talked with renewed energy. “We were too much alike. That’s the problem in as few words as possible.”

“Too alike how?”

“We both like to be in control.” She grinned shyly and her hooded eyes showed she was embarrassed. “Know what I mean?”

“Yeah, of course. I’m the opposite. I’m the rabbit, always looking for a cute fox to catch me.” She leaned against Regan and they both laughed.

“I’m naturally the fox. But I can adapt if I’m with someone who also likes to chase. But Angela didn’t have one bit of rabbit in her. Not even one of those cute little whiskers.”

“Ooo. And that made you always be the bunny.”

“Yeah. And that would have been okay if it was only our sex life that was like that. But it was a lot more. She wanted me to be the rabbit all of the time, in every part of our lives. She wanted to pay for me, to keep our checkbook, to make our social plans, to make a decision to refinance the house…without telling me,” she grumbled, obviously still miffed about that decision. “She wanted me to be her wife. The kind of wife my grandmother is to my grandfather.”

Callie looked at her, letting her eyes wander from her strong features and set jaw down to her square shoulders, wiry, muscled arms and strong legs. “You don’t seem like that type to me. At all.”

“I’m not. I never was. I never will be. It was a low-grade struggle that went on in the background. She’d do something and I’d push back. We didn’t actually fight very often, but it was always there, buzzing in the distance. I had to fight for every bit of autonomy I had, and frankly, it was tiring.”

“I wonder…” Callie closed her mouth quickly. “Never mind.”

“What?” Regan leaned against her.

“I was wondering how Marina and Angela…did it. They both have to be in control. Maybe that’s why Marina claimed she wasn’t into her.”

“Ugh! I hate to think of them together. And not just because of the cheating. Thinking of Angela with another woman drives me crazy.”

“Never mind.” Callie put a hand on her leg and rubbed it quickly.

“No, you’ve got me thinking about it now. It’s lodged inside.” She slapped the side of her head as though she could knock the thought out. “Marina was never passive?”

“Noo.” Callie laughed. “That’s not in her repertory.”

“You’ve got me. Maybe Angela was…” She stopped and thought for a few moments, then shook her head. “Nope. I can’t see it.”

“I wouldn’t have believed that Marina could fake it, but she must have. Angela wouldn’t have come back for more if Marina didn’t put on an act.”

“She sounds like a real winner.”

That hurt. There was something so derisive about the comment and her tone that she allowed the words to get in for the first time. No matter how she might tear Marina down, she’d chosen her and having Regan talk about her so disparagingly cut too close to the core. She didn’t want to hear another dig so she changed the topic. “Do you think your need for autonomy is the real reason you won’t give her another chance?”

“It’s all wrapped up together. Even if Angela could let go of her need to be in control, it would never be the real her. It’s an elemental part of her personality. I guess I don’t believe a tiger can change her spots. She’d be faking it.”

“Probably. But if the behavior is what you want…”

“I don’t want a girlfriend who’s letting me chase her. I want things to be spontaneous. It would take so much effort for her to be the rabbit that we’d never be able to just be ourselves.”

“The negotiating would wear me out.” She leaned on Regan again and whispered, “It’s much easier to find a girlfriend who wants to boss you around than it is to find one who wants to share equally. Luckily, I don’t mind a bit if my lover wants to make the decisions. If she wants to do all the work, I can relax and do my own thing.”

“That’s what I need,” Regan said longingly. She jerked noticeably, and Callie felt her muscles tighten. “I mean, you know…when I’m ready…later on…after I…” She looked at Callie with a pleading look in her eyes.

“I get that. Some day…waaaaay in the future.” She held her hand out over her eyes, as though she were trying to see across the ocean. “Weeks or months or years or decades from now, you’d like a relationship where you can be yourself. Right?” She smiled at her, trying to look as non-threatening as possible.

Regan leaned heavily against her and let out a sigh of relief. “Yeah. That’s exactly right. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“I won’t,” Regan said, then started to giggle, sounding more girlish than Callie had ever heard her.

That night, in her bed, Callie spent a long time reflecting on what Regan had said. It was almost more than she could bear: to know that Regan was not only a good, moral, thoughtful, beautiful woman, but that she was a true top was enough to make her swoon. She’d been thinking about the issue with an almost detached perspective, but when she couldn’t stop thinking, she decided she had to release some tension to get to sleep. She slipped her hand between her bare legs and was amused to discover her body had been thinking about sex, even when her mind hadn’t. Her fingers slipped around her clit, so thoroughly lubricated she had to stroke herself firmly to get any friction. But she didn’t mind. Thinking about Regan lying on top of her, bearing down with her weight, making Callie squirm under her was all she needed to propel herself to climax after climax until her wrist hurt and the tips of her fingers pruned. Please make it soon, she pleaded, as she drifted off. I know you want it as much as I do.

*

On the fourth of July, Callie was trying to lift a heavy cooler full of water and soft drinks. She only had to take it a few hundred feet, but the sand was hot and she hadn’t kept her flip-flops on, even though Regan had warned her to. She made it across the sand by jumping into the air every second or third step, and she could hear Regan laughing all the way across the beach.

“Told you so.”

“Experience is the best teacher.” She flopped down on the blanket making sure no part of her was in the sun. “It’s crowded!”

“It’s the fourth of July. You expected just a few Mannings out here?”

“Well, no…but how do I know? I’ve never been on the beach for fireworks. There must be four times as many people as on a regular weekend.”

“Everybody comes for fireworks. You’re gonna love ’em. I just hope my nephews don’t cry the whole time like they did last year. Kinda ruined it.”

“They’re a year older now.”

“Yeah, but they still cry a lot. Max especially. He’s a drama queen.”

“Don’t let Delaney hear you say that!”

“Ahh, you’ve noticed that no one in the family can critique anything the boys do?”

“I’m not going to answer that. I want everyone to like me.”

“Ha! I’d like to see the fool that doesn’t like you.” Regan smiled so genuinely that Callie felt herself fall in love with her for the thousandth time.

*

Hours later, when it was dark and everyone was tired from their long day in the surf and sun, the first big “pop” went off. Minutes later, Delaney and Ray gathered up their two bundles of tears and picked their way through the crowd, headed home.

“Maybe next year,” Regan said.

“Shouldn’t we help them? They’ve got a lot of stuff.”

“Nah. If she wants help she’ll order us around. Other than that, you’ll just be standing there, looking stupid.”

“I wish they hadn’t taken all of those blankets. I’m cold!”

“Cold? It’s probably seventy degrees.”

“Oh, okay, I’ll tell my goose bumps they’re mistaken.”

“Come here.” Regan was sitting in a sand chair and she wiggled a finger to indicate Callie should sit in front of her. “Lean up against my legs and then you can pull my blanket up over yourself.”

Thinking this was a fine idea, Callie ditched her own chair and settled herself right in front of Regan. She pulled the blanket up over her feet and legs, and was able to rest against Regan’s shins, letting her lean her head back to see the explosions. “The boys might have liked it better if we hadn’t been so close,” Callie said. “We’re about one inch away from the barrier.”

“When they’re here before me they can choose the spot.” Regan tugged on a lock of Callie’s hair, then grasped another handful. “Boy, your hair is really thick.”

“Really?” she said, disingenuously. “I’m not sure you’re right. Maybe you should experiment more to make sure.”

“Oh, you like your head rubbed, huh?” Regan started running her fingers across Callie’s scalp, making her purr with delight.

“I love that. But I also like just having bits of it pulled. Gently, of course.”

“Of course.”

Callie let her head rest against Regan’s knees, watching the fireworks explode over their heads while Regan gently tugged on bits of her hair. “How’s that?” she asked, leaning over to speak directly into Callie’s ear.

“God,” she moaned. “I mean…good. Really good.” She dearly hoped Regan couldn’t see her looking like she was about to drool.

*

One beautiful August afternoon they lay on the grass of the Boston Common, stretching out their legs after a fifteen-mile run. It was a perfect day and Callie knew they would probably stay outside until they were so hungry they had to give in and go back to her apartment for dinner.

Regan got up and jogged over to a vendor who was selling ice cream. She ran back with two chocolate covered confections and smiled when Callie dug into hers as though she hadn’t eaten in a week. When Regan finished gulping her own ice cream down she pointed the stick at Callie and said, “Do you know who we never talk about anymore? Marina,” she said decisively before Callie could answer.