The Touch of a Woman (12 page)

Ellis froze, feeling her back stiffen. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard such a bigoted remark. It simply wasn’t tolerated in the City.

At that moment, she hated Sacramento for its small-mindedness. Hated that she’d taken her beloved City for granted, for not recognizing how much it spoke to her soul. Hated the world for forcing her back in time to a place that hadn’t yet evolved.

And she detested people like Nancy Singleton who thought God was whispering to them about how they should run the world.

“Nancy…I believe I’ll pass on that dinner party. It turns out we may not have as much in common as I thought.”

Nancy’s momentary look of confusion was soon replaced by one of prim understanding. If she realized her comment had offended, she clearly didn’t care. Her religion, apparently, commanded her to judge others.

“And it’ll give me more time to spend with my son and his boyfriend.”

She whipped past the small bills and handed the homeless woman a twenty, her own lunch money for the rest of the week. Well spent.

* * *

Pumping the elliptical alongside Ellis, Summer marveled at the woman’s ability to talk without showing even the slightest drag on her breathing.

“I couldn’t believe she’d say something so hateful right in front of that poor woman,” Ellis said. “Does she honestly think people eat out of garbage cans because they
want
to? And that whole ‘gays are taking over the world’ business. What a crock.”

“Welcome to my world,” Summer replied bitingly. “Bigots like that, they’re everywhere, but most of them crawl around like cockroaches in the dark. I had a coworker once—he didn’t last long—who purposely kept sending back a grant application for a runaway shelter in LA because it targeted LGBT kids.” Unlike Ellis, she had to pause her story to catch her breath. “He actually bragged about it, thought it was hilarious…how he’d circle the tiniest details on the form, like not being able to clearly read the signature. All he cared about was running out the clock on the deadline.”

Ellis shook her head and groaned. “This lady was such a self-righteous bitch. At least we’re finally getting to a place where opinions like that aren’t acceptable.”

“Sometimes I wonder if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. It’s kind of handy to know who your enemies are.”

“Humph. I’d rather not hear it and pretend it doesn’t exist. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about my son living with so much hate around him.”

With every conversation they shared, Summer liked Ellis more and more. She was the bane of every conservative’s existence—a staunch San Francisco liberal in the mold of Nancy Pelosi, who wasn’t afraid to stand up for her principles. Even with its own vibrant gay and lesbian community, Sacramento could use more transplants like Ellis Keene.

Her machine beeped when she reached thirty minutes and she began to slow. “Want to grab some dinner? There’s a cafe on Freeport with California bistro.”

“Sorry, my budget’s whacked. I need to find something in my fridge.”

“Funny you should say that. I was thinking the other day how I don’t cook much anymore because it’s so much trouble to fix for one. I could throw together a couple of omelets and a salad if you’re interested.”

She was moderately surprised when Ellis accepted and walked home with her, all the while insisting on returning the favor some other night.

Sitting across from her on a barstool as Summer whipped the eggs, Ellis asked, “Do you ever miss your house? I look around my apartment sometimes and it feels surreal, like I’m visiting my grandmother in assisted living.”

Summer was afraid to laugh, though she found the comparison morbidly hilarious. “This is okay for now, I guess. I don’t expect to be here forever.” Nor did she expect to stay single, and it made sense to put off buying something until she knew where she wanted to live out her years and with whom.

“But you don’t have anything to show for it. Rent money just goes down the drain. It scares me to think I’ll retire someday and not have a place to call my own.”

“I’ll probably buy another place eventually. It might not be a house though…maybe a condo, something I don’t have to keep up on the outside. When you think about it”—she poured half of the mixture into a warm skillet—“you don’t really need a big house anymore, right? Your kids are gone, and you’re going to spend ninety-five percent of the year by yourself…unless you get married again or move in with somebody.”

“Now you sound like my parents.”

“That can’t be good.”

Ellis laughed. “After my father retired, they bought a motorhome that was so big it hung over the end of the driveway. The first couple of years they drove it around the country from one campground to another. Now they just go down to Arizona in the winter. But he’s talking about selling their house in Modesto and living in that tin can full-time.”

Summer realized her face was contorted in pain just from imagining such a life. “It wouldn’t be my first choice…”

“Or second, or tenth.”

“Exactly, but more power to them if that’s how they want to live. We all have to choose what makes us happy.” She folded the omelet over sautéed vegetables and transferred it to a plate already containing a salad of strawberries and arugula. Passing it across the counter, she said, “Go ahead and eat while it’s hot. Mine’ll be ready in a minute.”

“This looks fabulous.” Ellis took the first bite and closed her eyes, humming with appreciation. Then her voice turned serious. “I’m not sure being happy’s even on the menu for me. I’d be satisfied if I didn’t hurt all the time, especially for my kids and the other families. What Bruce did…at least it’s not in the news anymore. They bring it up every now and then when it happens somewhere else, but most people get to forget. We don’t. We still live with it every single day, and we always will.”

“I can’t even imagine what that must be like.”

“It was hardest on Allison, and then Jeremy because he’s so sensitive. Jonathan was the strong one, the only one who didn’t let it tear him apart. I knew he would be. He’s always been so…” She frowned and raised her chin defiantly, as though she were imitating him. “Strident. He has everything so perfectly planned, and he never,
ever
loses control. So much like his father. Personality-wise, I mean. He doesn’t have a violent bone in his body. Of course, I would have said the same thing about Bruce, so what do I know?”

It was fascinating to hear her ramble so candidly, as if spilling out reams of pent-up thoughts.

“When I think about the house, all the kids growing up there…how they would have come home someday with my grandchildren…it’s selfish to say this, but I get nostalgic for the life I thought I’d have. It’s almost unbearable. When Bruce retired, we were going to see the world. The opera in Vienna, the ballet in Moscow. Live in Paris for a summer. He didn’t just die. He took all of our dreams with him. All of
my
dreams.”

Summer waved the spatula emphatically. “You shouldn’t feel selfish about that, Ellis. You have a right to mourn your old life. It was taken from you in the cruelest way possible.” She turned back to the stove, flipped the second omelet onto her plate and came around the counter to take the other barstool.

“Maybe, but I hate to sound like I’m feeling sorry for myself. Those other families…they’re all so angry. I don’t blame them but I’m angry too. It was one thing for him to lash out at the people he thought were responsible for his problems. But he lashed out at the people who loved him, like it was our fault for expecting so much of him. The thing is though, he never asked us to settle for less. We would have been fine.”

She wondered if Ellis had ever availed herself of a therapist who could help her process this tragedy. Probably not, and it wasn’t because she was too proud to accept help. It was because she thought she didn’t deserve it, that she needed to suffer to make up for the pain her husband had caused.

Ellis abruptly dropped her fork and rested her forehead in her hand. “I’m sorry. You’re the first person I’ve actually talked to this way. Now that I’ve started, I can’t seem to turn it off.”

Summer stood, finding herself the same height as Ellis sitting on the stool. She hugged her and pressed her cheek to Ellis’s ear, feeling a tremor that signaled tears might be on the way. “You don’t have to turn it off. This is what friends do for each other.”

The hug seemed to calm her, and after a long silence, Ellis patted her hand. “Thank you. It’s amazing to me…people I’ve known for twenty or thirty years don’t know what they’re supposed to do with me, and you knew right away. I just needed somebody to listen.”

“Anytime.” She reluctantly let go and returned to her stool. Ellis’s heartfelt confessions had sent her protective instincts into overdrive. “Don’t write off those dreams just yet. There’s still plenty of time to make them happen. But don’t be surprised if they fade away when you find some new ones.”

“You’re right. Life’s full of surprises.” Ellis smiled with resignation and shook her head. “If anyone knows that, it’s me.”

* * *

“…and don’t you dare change your mind and start thinking you’re going to skip Christmas dinner, young man. You haven’t even seen my new apartment.”

Jonathan assured her he’d be there, though he couldn’t commit to more than a few hours. He was working on an article for the
Stanford Law Review
, quite a prestigious honor for an undergraduate, and one that would practically guarantee his acceptance into law school.

“I love you, honey. Call us when you leave Palo Alto.”

Ellis had phoned each of her kids after returning home from dinner with Summer. Her emotional outpouring had triggered a need to touch them all and make sure they were okay.

For a day that included a run-in with Sacramento’s very own Church Lady, it was ending with her feeling amazingly upbeat. She was learning to count on Summer for the friendship she’d promised. In fact, she could honestly say—other than having Jeremy and Allison so near—Summer was the best thing about Sacramento, and the only thing that had proven one hundred percent reliable.

She readied for bed with a quick shower, rinsing away the salty residue of her workout. Motivating herself to get to the fitness room after work was easier knowing Summer would be there. Though her muscle-toning drills with a personal trainer were a thing of the past, she was satisfied that her focus on cardio would keep her fit. It actually relaxed her at the end of a workday, and helped keep her slim.

Twisting from side to side, she admired her figure in the mirror. Her breasts were large enough that gravity was the enemy, but they still held an attractive shape. A modest bit of extra flab around her belly, plus the faint remnant of her Caesarean scar. All in all, she was proud to look so good at forty-eight, but sexy wasn’t a concept she entertained anymore.

Sexy for whom? She’d dressed up for Rex Brenneman, but her sexy feelings had evaporated almost the moment he arrived at her door.

Whereas…she’d gone out of her way to show off for Summer after her date.

She slid a satin nightshirt over her head and turned down the bed. A copy of the newest
San Francisco Vista
sat on her nightstand but she had no interest in reading tonight.

Her eyes gradually adapted to the dark, taking in the ambient red glow of her alarm clock.

Beneath the covers, she cupped both her breasts and began a sensuous massage, fondling her nipples until they were almost too sensitive to touch. Then a hand drifted lower…through her curls and into her warm, wet folds. With two fingers she spread the moisture all around, moaning softly each time she stroked her clitoris.

In her mind’s eye, it was Summer’s hand touching her for the first time and marveling at the slippery softness. Sighing when she found the swollen tip.

Ellis moaned again and tightened her butt in pulses as the sensations began to build. Faster, slower, faster. Up to the edge where she’d back off to draw it out. The fine, dangerous line between having a thunderous climax and losing it to the ether.

And all the while Summer telling her she was beautiful. She was hot.

Their skin together.

“Oh yes, that’s it!” she cried to no one. A fantasy. A harmless trick of the imagination.

Queenie Sullivan was the last person a restaurant owner wanted to see at an all-you-can-eat salad bar. An elementary physical education teacher, she burned more calories in a day than most people did in a week. Though weathered and gray, she was as fit as women half her age.

She returned from her second trip to the buffet line with her platter piled high and placed a roll on the plate of her partner Sam. “They just put out fresh bread. I got you one.”

“Sometimes I think you have a hollow leg,” Summer said as she stole a stuffed olive. If she ate like Queenie, she’d be the size of a grand piano.

“We came here the other night with Rita and got a pizza. She said she wasn’t very hungry and ended up eating half of it by herself.”

It had taken them all of an hour to finally get around to bringing up Rita. It actually was an innocuous way for Summer to keep up with her, as long as they didn’t pressure her to give Rita another chance. “How’s she doing?”

“Believe it or not, I think she’s finally starting to turn the corner.”

Summer tipped her head in doubt, deciding not to mention that Rita had shown up at her house again only a few nights ago. “I’ll believe it when I see it. And I don’t mean just not drinking for a few weeks. Her changes have to come from somewhere deeper than that.”

“Seriously, this time might be different,” Sam said. Unlike Queenie, she was on the heavy side, with dark Italian features, the most prominent of which were gorgeous brown eyes. “She told us about running into you at Muntean’s, and she said…how did she put it?”

“She said, ‘I think it’s really over with Summer this time.’”

That Rita finally understood was indeed big news. “And what do you think? Is she going to start drinking again?”

Sam shook her head. “She hasn’t, at least not as far as we know.”

“And we would know, I think,” Queenie added. “Practically every time she has too much to drink, she calls us to talk. She convinces herself she’s got it all worked out, and she has to tell us every little detail about what she’s going to do. Always these great plans.”