Indelible (16 page)

Angie drew in a shuddering breath. It was good to know that she was affected, too. Now if she could just get Angie to admit it.

After Luna opened the door and waited for Angie to enter, Angie pushed her body back into Luna’s and Luna wrapped her arms around Angie’s stomach. They stood breathing each other in for several moments until finally Angie broke away.

“We should go inside.”

Angie’s house was warm and inviting. The living room was small, as was the kitchen, but Luna sat comfortably at the table while Angie made a pot of coffee. Life was good inside these four walls—Luna could feel it. She wished she’d had more time to explore Angie’s home on Labor Day, but that event had been filled with tension. Luna had been afraid to move too far from her safe spot on the back deck.

Angie sat opposite as they waited for the coffeemaker to do its job. Luna wanted to scoot her chair closer, but the invisible wall Angie had thrown up around herself when they entered the front door stopped her.

“So how long do I have to wait?” Luna asked.

Angie gave her a lazy, sexy smile. “Wait for what?”

“To get to know you.” The tiny voice in the back of Luna’s head yelled, “Stop!” This conversation would only drive Angie away, and in turn she’d rush Luna out the front door.

Angie’s brows pulled together. “Isn’t that what we’ve been doing?”

“Sort of. But you have a Do Not Enter sign on large parts of your life. I want to know all of you, not just parts.”

“I thought we talked about this.” Angie glanced at the coffeemaker, which was still brewing.

“We did. But we didn’t get to finish.” Luna silently urged Angie to crack open the door and let her in.

“There’s not much else to say, Luna.” Angie stood from the table and crossed to the sink. She pulled two cups out of the cabinet and, without waiting for the coffeemaker to finish, she poured the coffee. The maker continued to dispense and the black liquid ran over the counter. “I like you. Isn’t that enough?” She set a cup in front of Luna, then cleaned the mess from the counter with a towel.

“I like you, too. And I want it to be enough, but I don’t want to feel like I’m encroaching if I see Jack or Oliver.”

“You can see Jack any time you want.”

Luna waited for Angie to return to the table, then moved to the chair next to hers. She took Angie’s hand. “And Oliver?”

“We’re taking him to Oaks Park Saturday, aren’t we?” Angie’s voice was almost as rigid as her posture.

And they were. Luna knew how hard it was for Angie to share that experience with her, but she didn’t understand why. “And after that?”

“Luna.” Angie sighed. “I don’t know, but I’m trying.”

“How about I take you both to dinner next week?”

“Can we talk about something else?”

Luna didn’t answer. No matter what she said, it wouldn’t be right. She didn’t want to change the subject, so saying yes would have been a lie, but saying no would likely cause Angie to shut down even further.

Angie broke the silence. “When I was younger, my dad brought home
so
many
women. I hated it. And when I found out I was pregnant with Oliver, I promised myself I wouldn’t do that to him.”

“I’m not a parade, Angie. I’m just one woman.”

“They were all just one woman.”

Did Angie want her to promise forever? Would that persuade her to open her life? Luna couldn’t make that declaration. No matter how hard she was falling for Angie, she knew better than to promise permanence based on a few weeks.

“What do you think I plan to do, Angie? Leave the second he gets to know me?”

“Why is this so important to you?” Angie traced her fingers over Luna’s arm. “Can’t we just enjoy one another?”

Why not indeed? Luna could easily fall into Angie and never surface. Even at the end of the day, with the beginning of dark circles below her eyes, her hair askew, and her clothes rumpled from a shift at work, Angie was beautiful. From the flirtatious half-smile that said she
might
, to the little dent in her bottom lip that Luna wanted to suck for hours, to the fluttering pulse at the base of her neck, just above the collar of her shirt—all were things in an ever-increasing catalog of Angie that made Luna smile. She could definitely enjoy Angie for a long time to come, and that’s what made her want more. She caught Angie’s hand and held it, rubbing her thumb easily along the half-moon between Angie’s thumb and forefinger.

“Angie, I want to be someone you can count on, not just someone you show up to fuck a couple of times a week.” Luna barely forced the words out. She felt too vulnerable to say what she needed at full volume.

Angie cupped her cheek, her fingers teasing along her jawline. “What if that’s all I can offer right now?”

Right now. Luna clung to the words. They promised hope for more in the future.

“I guess it’ll have to be enough.” Luna pulled Angie to her and kissed both her eyes, the tip of her nose, and finally her lips. She lingered there, enjoying the taste of Angie, the texture of her tongue as it slipped past her teeth. The thought that this might be all they’d ever share washed Luna in sadness. She pulled away. “I should go.”

Angie nodded, but rather than letting go, she kissed Luna again, her movements more urgent, more demanding. It had to be enough and that broke Luna’s heart.

Luna stood, then escaped through the door, with Angie reaching for her, her mouth still shaped in a kiss.

Her coffee sat untouched on the kitchen table.

Thursday, September 10

Angie didn’t believe in God, but if heaven was real, it involved Luna’s hands and a bottle of hot oil. “God, that feels so good.”

Luna worked the knots in Angie’s back, working the sore muscles until she felt like a pile of goo.

“Why are you so tense?” Luna’s voice washed over Angie, low and seductive. Angie let her stress float away.

“Oliver’s been a pain this week.”
A pain
didn’t begin to cover it. School had been in session for a week and Oliver had already been sent to the principal’s office twice. Once because Oliver refused to come in from recess, and the second time because he was disruptive during class. Military school was looking appealing.

Luna stopped rubbing her shoulders. “What’d he do?”

Luna’s sincere interest in Oliver confused Angie. Girlfriends weren’t genuinely concerned about their lover’s children. At least that’s how Angie’s childhood had played out. No matter how many times Luna asked after Oliver, Angie was still surprised.

“Trouble at school. I don’t want to talk about it.” Angie shimmied her shoulders, prompting Luna to resume the massage. “Less talk, more touch.”

Luna hesitated, then rubbed small, soft circles on her spine.

“I love the way you make me feel.”

“Yeah?” Luna’s voice cracked, betraying how much Angie’s answer mattered.

“Yeah.” No one had ever pampered Angie the way Luna did. She felt cherished.

“You look beautiful.” Luna spoke into Angie’s ear, her voice even lower than usual. “Can I keep you like this?”

“Naked and oiled up?” Angie joked. “Okay, but you’ll have to explain it to my boss.”

“He won’t mind, and your tips will skyrocket.”

Angie laughed but didn’t respond. It was sweet of Luna to say she was beautiful, and when she was with Luna, Angie believed it. But in the real world Angie had stretch marks on her tummy, boobs that sat an inch or two south of where they belonged, and her ass was on the verge of requiring a warning sticker because of its width. Gravity hadn’t fully betrayed her yet, but she was well on her way. On top of that, her tan was fading. Shopping for school clothes with Oliver tapped into the special part of her budget reserved for pampering activities like tanning.

“Do you ever think about your dad?” She shouldn’t ask, but she needed to switch the focus. Sex would have worked just as well, but she wasn’t ready for the massage to be over.

“Not really.” Luna smoothed her palms over Angie’s low back, stretching the tight muscles. “You?”

“I think about my dad all the time. Kinda hard not to when he’s planted in my kitchen most of the day.”

“I meant your mom.”

“Sometimes, but it makes me grumpy, so I try not to.”

“Your dad’s a pretty good cook.”

Angie made a mental note to kiss Luna in thanks later for changing the subject. “He’s great, but the cooking gene totally passed me by.”

“You realize it’s not genetic, it’s practice.” Luna worked her way over Angie’s thighs. Sex was looking better with every oil-drenched inch.

“I’d rather blame my DNA. Then I’ll have an excuse not to try.” Angie answered with more of a moan than actual words.

“But Oliver likes to cook?”

“Oliver likes to do anything his grandpa does.” Angie shuddered.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“My dad has some bad habits.”

“Like what?” Luna reached Angie’s feet and rubbed circles into the arch with her thumbs.

Angie groaned. “I’d rather Oliver not make finding the perfect marijuana a high priority. And I wouldn’t complain if he dated the same woman for longer than three months.” Angie closed her eyes and focused on the amazing things Luna was doing to her feet. “And if he ever shows up at his kid’s school in drag—”

“He did that?” Luna sounded shocked. Maybe disbelieving.

It took Angie a moment to realize what Luna was asking about. She’d already seen Jack high. They’d talked about Jack’s revolving bedroom door. That left the dresses. “Did he what? Wear a dress to my school?”

“Yeah,” Luna said softly. She massaged each individual toe, rolling them gently between her thumb and fingers.

“More than once.”

“I bet that fucked with your cheerleader image.” Luna laughed, but she didn’t sound like she meant it.

“Luna.” Angie rolled onto her back. She wanted to see Luna’s face. “I wasn’t a cheerleader. I wasn’t anything.” Angie had hated high school, and she hated that the conversation had taken this turn.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“My ten-year reunion is coming up. You can see for yourself then.” The half-witted invitation was out before Angie could stop herself. Fuck it. If Luna was determined to turn a good time into a relationship, she could handle Angie assuming her time for boring, obligatory functions.

“You’d take me with you?” Luna resumed her massage on the front of Angie’s legs.

“I sure as hell ain’t going alone.”

Luna laughed and tickled her way up Angie’s sides. “So this is just your evil plan to torture me?”

“You’re on to me.”

Angie’s cell phone rang, interrupting Luna’s tickle onslaught.

“I have to get that.” Angie ran into the kitchen and fished her phone out of her purse. It was Oliver’s school. “Hello?” She fought to keep her breathing even so she wouldn’t sound like a giggling teenager.

“Angie Dressen?” The man paused for Angie to acknowledge her identity. “This is Randy Payton, the assistant principal at Endeavor Elementary. I’m calling about Oliver.”

Angie hated the name of Oliver’s school. It sounded like he was getting his education on a starship, though she didn’t think Randy Payton would appreciate her insights. “How can I help you, Mr. Payton?”

“I have Oliver here in my office and was hoping you could come talk with the two of us.”

She could hear Oliver in the background yelling about being framed. “I’ll be there as quickly as I can.” She disconnected the call. Framed or not, Oliver was so grounded for ending her massage.

Luna stood just inside the bedroom slowly removing her clothing. The shower was running in the bathroom. “You need to wash off all that oil before you go anywhere. I’ll join you.”

Angie thought about arguing, but figured it was fair for Luna to assume shower time since Angie assumed Luna’s attendance at her high-school reunion. “We need to hurry.”

Luna ushered Angie into the shower. “And I’m driving you. Don’t argue. It’ll be faster.”

Angie bristled. Showering together was one thing, but a trip to Oliver’s school to see the assistant principal was quite another. As much as she didn’t like Luna forcing herself into yet another private family moment, the practical offer of a ride won out. She needed to get to Oliver sooner rather than later. She’d decide how she felt about Luna after she finished throttling her son.

*

Oliver slouched in a high-backed wooden chair outside the assistant principal’s office. If she ignored the scowl on his face, Angie could see the sweet little boy he used to be. But during the past year, his desire for independence and his discontent had overshadowed the sweetness. Angie didn’t remember feeling the constant craving for more, the unsure anticipation about what came next, until she was at least thirteen. She felt robbed of three good years without continuous friction, but who should she file her complaint with? Probably herself, since she was the one responsible for Oliver.

Oliver was glaring unwavering at the floor, his clothes rumpled and one shoe missing.