Doublecrossed (31 page)

Delaney’s cheeks turned a bright pink and her eyes narrowed into slits. Her voice was so full of barely-controlled rage that sparks nearly flew from her words. “Does she still live in the same house?”

Finally! A benefit from telling your secrets to your family. “You don’t need to go kick her ass. She feels bad about it. But it was tough for me to get over. I’ll admit that.”

“God damn it, Regan!” She stood up and walked over behind the desk. Sitting on the edge she put her hand on Regan’s leg and patted it gently. “You got fucked over. Majorly fucked over. It’s barely been a year. No wonder you’re in a fog.”

Shaking her head, Regan said, “I don’t think that’s what’s bothering me. It’s Callie. Not being able to be with her hurts just as much as having Angela fuck things up.”

“No. Trust me on this.” She gripped her leg and squeezed firmly. “I know you better than just about anyone. Your whole personality is different. You’ve been depressed since you left Cambridge. Now I understand why. Having someone you love cheat on you is like getting a compound fracture! It takes a long, long time to heal. Especially when it’s someone you really love.” She leaned over and spoke lovingly. “I know how much you loved her.”

Swallowing hard to force the tears away, Regan took another sip of her beer. Delaney had more experience with bad love affairs. She’d had her heart broken at least twice. “You really think so?”

“Yes. You’ve lost your spark, your self-confidence. You haven’t had any of that cockiness you usually show. That’s not because of Callie. It’s because of Angela. That miserable son of a bitch.”

Regan showed a faint smile. “It was a horrible betrayal, but we probably weren’t made for each other. I think we made a better couple on paper than we did in reality.”

“She wasn’t right for you, as I might have mentioned.” Delaney smiled unrepentantly. “Did I ever bring that up?”

“Yeah, I think you did. Like a hundred times.”

“But that doesn’t mean you didn’t love her.”

“No, it doesn’t. I was committed to her.”

“Yeah, I could see that. And I know you thought I was dead wrong, but you never seemed crazy about her. It seemed more like an arranged marriage.”

Regan let out a snicker. “Wanna float that past me again?”

“It seemed like you had a list of things you wanted in a partner and Angela had everything. Kinda like you’d used a matchmaker.”

Regan leaned her head back and drained her beer. “Huh. That’s an interesting perspective.”

“A correct one.”

“I’m not sure about that. But I’ll consider it.” And if you’re right I’ll never tell you. You’d hold it over my head forever.

“One day you’ll see that I was right. And I won’t make a big deal out of it when you apologize for doubting me.”

Regan reached out and covered her sister’s hand with her own. “Thanks. You’re all heart.” They shared a smile, then she got up. “Can I go now?”

“Yes. If you’ll spend some time thinking about how right I am.”

With a grin, Regan grabbed her briefcase and headed for the door. “I do that every night.”

*

Accepting that Delaney had been right was not easy, but pondering her comments over the next week helped some of the fog lift. Admitting how much Angela had taken from her helped almost immediately, and each day brought a little more clarity. By the time Sunday rolled around, Regan jumped out of bed when her alarm went off, something she hadn’t done in months. The day was cool and dreary, but she felt a burst of energy that had been lying dormant ever since she’d walked out the door of Angela’s home. Now she needed to take another look at Callie’s choices. Maybe things would look different without Angela’s betrayal hanging over her.

*

Callie was also in fine fettle that day, and they ran together through the cool morning, taking in the first signs of spring. “What’s that?” Callie demanded, dragging Regan to a stop in front of a shrub enfolded in an exuberant splash of yellow.

“My grandmother calls that the golden bells of spring.”

“What is it?”

“Just a bush or a shrub. It’s usually one of the first things to bloom.” She looked into the sparse woods and pointed. “There’s a few on the edge there. You can follow it up the coast as it blooms. Kinda like when the leaves turn.”

“Excellent. I’m gonna learn the names of all of the plants this year. Spring is gonna rock. I’m totally ready for it.”

They started running again, slowly speeding up to their former cadence. “The bloom isn’t off the rose yet, huh?”

“Nope. I don’t think it ever will be. I’m crazy for New England.”

Suddenly, seeing spring through Callie’s eyes was imperative. “Hey, you haven’t had a chance to get out of town much. Why don’t we drive up to Maine or Vermont?”

“Really?” Callie’s smile grew wide. “When?”

That smile alone could have propelled Regan all the way to Nova Scotia. But plans had to be made. “How about next weekend? It’s somebody’s birthday on Friday.”

“It’s mine!”

“That too. How about it?”

“You’re on. Where will we go?”

“I’ll make plans. Leave it to me.” Spring was suddenly vitally important. Callie loved it and that was enough to make it paramount.

*

They finished their ten miles and assembled as a group as their coaches gave them a few tips. Some of the runners were going to brunch, but Callie started to ease away from the others. Regan turned and started to follow her. “No brunch?”

“Can’t. Meeting someone.” Callie scanned the area and waved at a woman sitting on a bench. She smiled at Regan and shrugged. “Gotta go.”

But Regan stayed right next to her. She wasn’t sure why she followed along, even though Callie tried to discourage her by whispering “I’ve got a date” as they approached the woman.

“Hi,” Regan said, holding her hand out to the perplexed-looking woman. “I’m Regan, Callie’s friend.”

“Hi. Allison.”

Callie wasn’t smiling. “Regan just wanted to say hi before she left,” she said, staring a hole in her.

“Where are you two off to?” Regan heard herself ask. Who was the woman who’d taken over her body?

“We’re gonna go have brunch,” Allison said.

“Oh. Where are you going? We usually have brunch with our running group.”

Callie put her hand on Regan’s arm and turned her towards the dispersing group. “You’d better run if you want to catch them.”

Regan took a quick look at the group. “Yeah. I guess I’d better. Uhm, how long have you two been going out?”

“First date,” Callie said, giving a tense-looking smile. “Gotta go now.”

“Okay.” Regan stuck her hand out and shook Allison’s hand again. “You guys have a great time.”

Callie and Allison started to walk and when she got about twenty feet away, Callie turned back and gave Regan a very quizzical look. Regan waved, feeling more confused by her actions than Callie probably did. She’d never tried to insinuate herself into someone else’s date, but she’d almost asked if she could go with them. That was beyond strange.

*

After putting on her sweats, Regan decided to walk over to her favorite bookstore. She could have taken her car, but it was only a mile and parking was always problematic on Mass. Ave., so she decided to walk. Eventually she found herself on her former street. She had to go several blocks out of her way to get there, and she hadn’t even realized she’d chosen such a circuitous route, but some part of her needed to be there.

Angela was in the front yard, working on a small flower bed she’d planted each of the years they’d lived together. She was in her usual gardening clothes: a nice pair of old khakis and a blouse that most people would think still had a lot of life left in it. But she was out there digging in the soil she’d built up with plenty of amendment to aid in the drainage. She gardened the way she did everything: carefully and properly. Regan stood on the corner, feeling exposed and vulnerable. Angela was just a hundred feet away, close enough to be able to hear a call. But Regan was never going to call her name again. Looking at Angela brought none of the heart-fluttering excitement she’d felt the first time she’d touched Callie’s cheek. Angela was a good woman. She’d made a terrible mistake, and Regan was sure she’d do more than her share of penance over it. But there was nothing left. No animosity, no rancor, no pull. The relationship was dead. The time for grieving was over. It was spring. The time of rebirth and renewal, and Regan was going to start her life again—unencumbered by the past.

*

Regan picked Callie up on Friday night. It was a cold and clear night, and the weekend was supposed to be the same.

Callie came running towards the car, carrying a big backpack. She was practically skipping, and Regan felt the familiar and now welcome thrumming of her heart when they made eye contact.

“I’m so excited!” Callie tossed her bag into the back and settled down in her seat. “Where are we going?”

“Tonight we’re going to New Hampshire. I found a nice place up I-95 that’s supposed to have great breakfasts. I know that eating is your favorite part of road trips, so I was very careful to take that into consideration.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Callie’s hand hover for a second over her leg, then retreat. They’d abandoned almost all of their physical affection, and it hurt to see that beautiful hand slip into the pocket of her coat.

“I didn’t eat anything, hoping we could stop somewhere cool. Will we have time?”

“We’ve got nothing but time. Our only agenda is to have fun.”

“That’s my favorite agenda.” Callie smiled and the warmth of her smile made the car feel cozy.

They stayed on the interstate until they were halfway through New Hampshire. Regan pulled off the highway and followed some dim signs that indicated they were heading for U.S. 1.

After a mile or two they arrived at the inn, a small, tidy place that dripped New England charm. Regan looked around, very pleased with her choice. They checked in and went to their room, a spare but clean one with a very tall queen sized bed and a fire crackling in the small fireplace. When the innkeeper left them, Callie said, “This is probably the cutest place I’ve ever stayed. Would anyone notice if we knocked off the owner and just took her place?”

“Probably not.” Seeing the happiness in Callie’s eyes made her hours of work searching for perfection seem like a very good investment.

“Only one problem. Where can we eat? We didn’t pass a place for the last fifty miles.”

“We can eat right here.” Regan shucked her coat and tossed her big bag on the bed. Slowly she pulled out a couple of bags and a bottle of wine, presenting everything to Callie. “We’re going to have a little birthday repast right here.”

Callie squealed with delight. “Wonderful! What have we got?”

“A bunch of stuff you like.” They pulled a pair of comfy chairs up to the fire and put the bags on a small table. Regan opened them and placed cheeses, apples, pears, crackers and a tin of caviar before Callie.

Eyes wide, Callie took the tin and examined it. “I don’t think we’ve ever had caviar. How do you know I like it?”

“Because I like it,” Regan teased. “You like everything that’s good, so I assumed you liked it. And if you don’t…I’ll eat it all.”

“I love it!” Callie held the tin to her chest. “This is a great birthday.”

“Don’t forget the wine.” She pulled a corkscrew out and started to open a bottle of white wine. “This will go really well with the cheese and the caviar.”

Callie reached out and put her hand on Regan’s shoulder, then obviously thought better of the idea. She brushed her hand over her shirt. “Some lint,” she explained. “I’m glad I’m having my birthday with you. That makes it special.”

Regan wondered who had first backed away from showing the slightest physical affection? They’d lost so much of their precious familiarity. They had to be able to reclaim it, if only Callie was willing.

Regan got the cork out and poured two glasses half full. “To very happy birthdays,” she said, clinking their glasses together. “I hope you have a hundred more.”

“Only if you promise to come to my hundred and thirty-sixth birthday party.”

“I’ll put in on my calendar the minute I get home.” They touched their glasses together once again and each took a sip.

“That’s good,” Callie said, watching the wine coat the glass as she swirled it.

They dug into their meal, demolishing the cheese and caviar with ferocity. When they didn’t have a single cracker left, they slowly sipped their wine, slumped back into their chairs and watched the fire dance. “Nice meal,” Callie said, her voice softer and slower than usual. “Very…nice…birthday.”

“Oh! I forgot your presents.”

“Presents? I get presents?”

“Absolutely.” Regan got up and went to her bag, pulling out three gifts, each nicely wrapped. Handing them to Callie, she sat back down. “I hope they fit.” She peered at the flat rectangles, each about an inch think. “You wear a seven and a half, right?”

Callie rolled her eyes, then tore into the first one. “Awesome! A guide to plants in New England.” She started to thumb through the book, exclaiming over some striking examples of plants and flowers. “I’m crazy for reference books.”