Chapter seven

The next morning marked one week before Gail's fortieth birthday. Approaching forty didn't disturb her. Age simply couldn't be helped. She felt good, and her first forty years had been fun and prosperous. Perhaps the best was yet to come. She shrugged off the birthday as just another day, but looked forward to the party Karen and Jeff had planned for her.

She wiped a smudge of polish from her toe just as she heard two revs of the throttle from Karen's Harley. Gail continued with the last two toes and waited for the persistent Karen to ask her, for the third time, to join her on a ride.

"Hey," Karen said as she placed her foot onto the first step of the deck. "Nice color. Maybe when we get back you'll do mine?"

Gail continued polishing her toenails. "I'm not going with you."

Karen pulled off her helmet and shook her hair loose.

"'We' as in me and Albright, who I hope will soon find passage out of your dwelling."

Gail looked up quickly. "Tannen is going?"

"No. Madeleine Albright," Karen said and shook her head. "Of course Tannen. Where is she, anyway?"

"Be right there," Tannen said from the window above.

"Chop chop! We're on a schedule!"

"Where are you going?" Gail asked.

"Up to the deli in Kent. The one that sells the Vermont cheddar that Jeff likes."

"What are you thinking, Karen?" Gail shot her an angry look and replaced the nail brush. She tightened the cap with a single twist. "You know she needs proper clothing for riding."

Gail pushed herself from the deck and hurried into the house, leaving Karen outside. She opened the hall closet, pulled out her leather jacket and blue helmet. When she met Tannen in the hallway, Gail was at least glad to see she was wearing jeans.

"Wear these." She handed her the gear and battled Tannen's familiar scent. Gail braced her hands against the wall behind her to keep her arms from embracing Tannen.

"Thank you, darling." Tannen pulled the jacket on. "What have you planned for today?"

"Is that Clive Christian Number One you're wearing?"

"Yes. Do you like it?"

First lemon and then jasmine; Tannen's aroma seemed to change with each sentence. Gail nodded.

"Albright!" Karen yelled.

"That's my cue." Tannen kissed Gail's cheek. "We'll see each other later, then?"

"Yeah," she said quietly.

Gail took hold of Tannen's sleeve to stop her. The leather crackled in her grasp and echoed through the narrow hallway.

"What is it, darling?" Tannen asked. "It seemed you wanted to discuss something last evening."

Gail looked at her for a long time, silent. Tannen's bangs had fallen into her eyes and Gail pushed them back with one hand. Her perfume wielded a sensual power over Gail. The aromatherapy properties did nothing to balance her. Nothing eased her emotion.

"The bus is leaving." Karen's voice trailed away.

"It's nothing." Gail smiled. "Have fun."

Tannen touched Gail's arm and left quickly to catch her ride.

Alone for the first time in nearly four weeks, Gail positioned herself in front of the television. She fast-forwarded through a DVD until one of Tannen's love scenes appeared. She turned up the volume and listened.

In a few lesbian films, Gail had noticed that some of the women whispered what she considered unscripted dialogue. Words like "Kiss me" and "I want more." It intrigued her because some of the women were straight. She had even compiled and labeled a disk of outtakes. When she insisted Karen listen to them, Karen had agreed that the dialogue was between the lines.

Out of curiosity, Gail watched several of Tannen's scenes, but not a single word came through as unscripted. To Gail, the lack of unwritten dialogue spoke of even more control on Tannen's part. Healthy for the film situation, she decided. Did this make Tannen more professional? More experienced than those who were heard whispering? Or was she a control freak? Gail could only wonder.

Karen and Tannen returned three hours later. Their laughter reached the living room before they reached the door.

"You're mad!" Tannen said. "I want to do that again."

Gail turned off the television and stretched. Karen came into the room and dropped her helmet and herself onto the sofa.

"She's fun," Karen said. "Have you decided the music you want for your party?"

"A good mix is fine, Karen. You know what I like." Gail sat on the chair across from Karen.

"Excellent. I have a DJ booked. Everything else is pretty much set. At your request, we'll have lobster and more lobster."

"Maine lobster, Karen. Nothing less, please?"

"Yes, Maine lobster. If you want to clog our arteries with cholesterol, we may as well go out in style."

"Did I hear Maine lobster mentioned?" Tannen asked when she entered the room. "I've been known to crash awards dinners for the succulent crustacean."

Karen looked at Gail and smiled. "Is this your official RSVP, Dame Tannen?" She swiveled her head back toward Tannen.

"Yes." She picked up the DVD marked BTL and placed it back on the table. "Darling," she rested her hand on Gail's shoulder, "unless you've other plans, would you be my date that evening?"

Karen looked at Gail.

"I think we'd make wonderful tabloid fodder," Gail said, looking at Karen.

"They'll love it. I need to get some work done." She squeezed Gail's shoulder. "I had a wonderful time, Karen."

"See ya, Albright." Karen waved.

Gail sat quietly. The only sound was the ring of Tannen's cell phone. Karen continued to stare at Gail.

"What?" Gail asked.

"She calls you darling?" Karen asked. "Is there something you aren't telling me?"

Gail shrugged. "It's just her way."

"It's certainly her way with you. She calls me a nutter. Are you sleeping with her?" A not so casual question that Karen always managed to deliver in a very casual manner.

"No. We've become good friends."

"Yes! Obviously, but any person with half a mind would see that Tannen is interested in you."

"Karen, I'm not sleeping with her!" she huffed.

"Well, you should, or with someone else. You've been miserable since you met her."

"I'm not miserable. I don't mean to project that." Gail looked at Karen. "I don't know what to do with the feelings I have when she's around."

"At least you admit you feel something." Karen laughed. "What's wrong with telling her? If I had half the attention she gives you, I'd beg to kiss her feet, or something. A lot of her somethings."

"I guess I have my limitations. Maybe I'm not as aggressive as I once was."

"Chickenshit comes to my mind. You're wasting a beautiful and exciting part of yourself. When we were together, you let me see snippets of the real Gail Prescott. You're very likeable and loveable. You're very loving when you have the courage."

"That Gail-"

"Don't tell me she doesn't exist." Karen tossed her helmet toward Gail. "She jumps out every time you see Tannen, or hear her voice."

Tannen yelled down, "Darling, I've turned off the AC and opened a window. It's too cold up here."

Gail stole a quick glance at the steps. She pulled the helmet over her head, but her action could not block Karen's voice.

"I rest my case," Karen said and she stood. "I have to get home. Jeff wants to go out tonight and I suspect he'd like my presence." She removed her helmet from Gail's head. "I want you to be happy."

"I'm not so bad off, Karen."

"In a materialistic way," Karen said.

Gail followed Karen to her bike, all the while smelling Tannen's perfume from Karen's jacket. Gail wondered how Karen felt with Tannnen's arms wrapped around her waist. Gail was jealous that she wasn't driving. "I should get my Honda out and dust it off. We haven't been riding in ages."

"Yes, you should. I can do a tune-up for you, if you want." Karen kissed her cheek. "I'll call you soon, honey."

Before returning to the house, Gail gathered some wildflowers and carried them into the kitchen. She filled the teapot and turned the heating element to high. While the water heated, Gail pulled small petals from several yellow avens. She sprinkled the petals around a black serving tray and placed two white china cups with saucers to one side of the tray. Gail reached for the branch of Japanese honeysuckle. She pulled the flowers from their stems and placed them strategically around the tray. Gail cushioned a brandy snifter with pink azalea. She placed two multicolored cigarettes and a lighter in the bed of flowers. After placing a creamer and sugar set, Gail scooped three spoons of black tea into the china pot, poured the water, and replaced the top. She set it on the tray, along with two spoons and napkins.

Gail stepped back and looked at her arrangement. She moved a few yellow petals and plumped up the azaleas. "Not bad. Kind of cute, actually." She added sprigs of honeysuckle to the inside of the cups. As an afterthought, she poured honey into a crystal aperitif glass and placed it near the sugar and cream.

Proudly, she grabbed the tray and cautiously carried it up the stairs to Tannen's room. Gail knocked on the threshold with her foot.

"Room service," she said, and peeked through the door. "Ready for a break?"

"Damn right, I need a break." Tannen jumped up and met Gail at the door. "How lovely! Gail, this is so thoughtful." She took the tray and placed it on the floor, near the bed. "Let's picnic. Come." Tannen pulled the sprigs of honeysuckle from the cups and poured the tea.

"How's the writing coming along?"

Tannen shrugged. "I should stick to acting," she said. "I doubt I have the talent to write."

"Most people have the talent, with proper coaching. I'll have a look at what you've done, if you like. Maybe I can offer some suggestions."

"Maybe later we can get our heads together." Tannen added a small amount of honey to her tea. "What is the attire for your night of merriment?"

"Comfort." Gail leaned against the bed.

"I may make a trip into the city beforehand. I know the perfect outfit."

"Didn't you find some new things last night?" Gail asked.

"We never went shopping. There was a ragtime concert on Southbury Green and we decided to stop and listen."

"Pity. New York is quite a distance for clothes."

The only sound that broke the silence was Tannen's spoon hitting the side of the cup. She placed the spoon on the tray and gripped her cup with both hands.

"Gail, are you all right? Is there something you want to talk about?" Tannen sipped the tea, waiting for Gail's response.

"No and no."

"Am I in your way? I've overheard a few female voices on your machine. Perhaps my presence cramps your personal life?"

Gail reached for Tannen's hand but picked up her tea instead.

"No." She looked at Tannen. "I enjoy your company."

"Darling, you've been quiet recently and I'm concerned about it."

"I'm having difficulty separating the woman from the actor." It was another half-truth for the record books. "You're a...a...major event, for lack of better words. Last night I was restless and I turned on Showtime. You can bet-there was your character, naked as a jaybird, making breakfast for the guy she banged the night before."

Tannen laughed. "I mentioned that I like cooking."

Gail slapped Tannen's knee. "Let me finish."

"You have the floor."

"It felt weird, and then wonderful, that the woman on screen was also the woman in my guest room."

"It proves that truth isn't far from fiction. I was naked in your guest room." Tannen's expression was nearly pure, but a slight upward curl at the corners of her mouth gave way to dimples and a look that Gail read as are you sorry you missed it?

Gail's heart skipped a beat, and internally she weakened. She felt as though someone had planted Kryptonite on her, but she struggled to appear indifferent. "The point I'm trying to make is I'm envious that Karen doesn't have a problem with you. I sometimes have a starstruck feeling."

"Karen wouldn't have a problem with the Queen of Great Britain. She would yank off Elizabeth's crown and try it on." She lit a pink cigarette, inhaled, then handed it to Gail. "Besides, Karen has a different perspective. You weren't like this at Talley's."

"Talley's was business and I felt on equal ground."

"And you are still. Gail Prescott is quite a literary superstar. You can believe I've researched you. Pushing aside celebrity, we're just two women sitting on the floor and sharing a cigarette."

"I don't think of myself as a superstar, but I obviously think of you that way. I suppose that's why the fifteen-year-old in me wants to ask for your autograph." Gail smiled and rolled her eyes. What does the forty-year-old want?

"Have a look at the gas tank on Karen's Harley. You'll find my Tannen Albright in silver, and she was thrilled that I signed for her. If you remember correctly, I had asked for your signature." She pushed herself up and walked to the desk. When Tannen returned, she grabbed Gail's arm and pushed her sleeve past the elbow. Tannen signed her name all the way down to Gail's wrist. "There you have it, darling. That's for the fifteen-year-old." She placed the marker on the tray. "I see nothing improper with an adult wanting an autograph."

Gail studied the blue marker signature. "Maybe I can get it laminated and sell it on eBay."

"Too painful for what little you'd get. Now what does the forty-year-old want?" She leaned toward Gail's cigarette, and she took a drag.

"Where have I heard that question before?"

Tannen cocked her head. "Someone has asked you that?"

"Only too often." She laughed and continued. "Tell me more about you, Tannen."

"This moment is a good start: two women sharing. I'm not close to many women. I have good female friends back in the U.K., non-celebrity friends, but I can't say I've ever shared a cigarette with one of them. Men are always my closest relationships."

"Not other female actors?"

"Many of us are acquainted and have worked together, but we haven't much in common. Competition leaves little room for familiarity. Not many interesting roles exist for women our age, and all of us clamor for the best of them. There's a lot of contempt, and women can be brutal."

"Yet it's easy to become familiar with men?"

"The competition is absent." Tannen leaned closer and pointed out, "All they want to do is shag me."

Gail choked on her smoke. "And these are your friends?"

"They're friends because I won't sleep with them. They have no other choice, if they want my company."

"Tell me about David."

Tannen turned pensive at the mention of him. "David was my stage director for Antigone, and he'd decided I was playing her as though she were a slapper."

"A tart?"

"Exactly." She sipped her tea. "He said I was more suited for King's Cross station-known then for prostitution and drugs, and now known for Harry Potter's platform 9 3/4. He tucked a ten-pound note into my jumper and ordered me off his stage. I was absolutely gutted!"

"How embarrassing! What did you do?"

"I slapped him twice, went to a local pub, and got drunk with his money. I returned to the theater, and the cast was gone. When I located David on-stage, I called him a son of a bitch, and I slapped him again. For drama, I kissed him. In my best Cockney, I said, 'You've pied for a shag, luv, so let's 'ave it.'"

"What did he do?" Gail listened, engrossed in Tannen's story.

"I was much too impetuous." Tannen flung herself onto her back. "The bastard pushed me to the floor, and he shagged my brains out." She sat up, nearly doubling over with laughter. "We were inseparable from that moment."

Gail squealed with pleasure. "You didn't! Right there? On the stage?"

"I swear it's the truth. Afterward we talked for hours about the play. I realized my Antigone was bloody awful. His was the only way to play the woman-with strength and attitude. David made me who I am today."

"He may have played a great role in your stage career, but films are how you're most widely known. That's all Tannen Albright, I would think."

Tannen shrugged. "Perhaps I glorify David, but without his stage training I doubt I would be where I am today."

"Then we'll toast David." Gail smiled and their teacups sounded more of a clunk than a ping. "Your story is much more interesting than a little girl on a train, staring at MAD magazine."

"I loved your story, darling. You were young, impressionable, and you knew it meant something."

Darling. I need to know what the word means to you.

"Do you use 'darling' a lot?"

"You're the first, since David died."

Damn it. Couldn't you call me an egotistical jackass? I understand those words. Gail nodded. "What happened to David?"

"Kidney disease. Watching him suffer was the most horrible time. David was everything to me: manager, friend, lover, and husband. He was probably my biggest fan." Misty-eyed, she looked at Gail. "And here I am, blubbering about it in your guest room."

"But you've never remarried. There's never been another Mr. Right?"

"I haven't been a saint, darling. A few relationships surfaced, but they weren't worth the pain, or the trouble, either." She held a piece of honeysuckle to her nose and inhaled. "No one has come along to make me want to invoke the rule."

"What rule might that be?"

"The rule of David, we can call it." Tannen laughed. "The rule that says throw the slapper on the floor, and she's yours. That sort of rule."

Gail raised her eyebrows and snickered. "I guess it works in some circles." She leaned toward the honeysuckle, and Tannen passed it slowly under her nose. Gail inhaled, savored the hit from a summer flower, and then leaned back against the bed. "But you've said being alone was hard to imagine for me. Will you remain alone?"

"I've not settled for it, darling. David left behind very large shoes to fill. I know someone out there will surpass his boots. It's a matter of time." Tannen shifted her legs and hugged her knees. "Have you always been with women?"

"No. When I was in my twenties, I gave the idea of being straight a feeble chance, but I couldn't accept unhappiness for the sake of appearances."

"Your writing is heterosexual, though."

"I have to appeal to mainstream America, if I want the books to sell."

Gail drank the last of her tea.

"Karen told me you two had a brief sexual relationship."

"We did." Gail chuckled. "There was hell to pay when I told her I couldn't see her any longer."

"I can imagine. Karen is undeniably headstrong."

"Not to mention physically strong. She literally held me, backed into a corner. I've never heard the riot act with such anger and profanity. Who knew there were so many different ways to use the word 'fuck'?" Gail laughed. "She scared the hell out of me."

Tannen nodded while she listened. "She told me. Gail Prescott had a wake-up call that day. Kudos to Karen Maines."

"She made her point. Karen says she's the only notch in my lipstick case that has established a friendship with me, and I agree with her. Friendship was something we worked long and hard to accomplish. After she met Jeff, it became easier."

"Does her husband know about your history with her?"

"Yes. It annoyed him at first, but he came to realize that we're friends and nothing more. He and I have become good friends, as well."

Tannen lit another cigarette and blew the smoke Gail's way. Gail wondered if the act was deliberate. The smoke swirled and curled around her. It reminded her of her teenage days, when she would swap smoke with her girl friends, just to feel their lips touch. To this day, Gail didn't know if the girls had ever caught on, or if they were just as inquisitive. Shotgun. That was what they called it then. "Ever shotgun smoke?"

"Yes, I have, darling. Shall we try?"

Gail's felt her face turn red. "You're becoming cruel, Ms. Albright."

Tannen grinned. "Your expression is priceless!" Gail balled up a napkin and threw it at her. "Are there many notches in your lipstick case?"

"More than my fair share." Gail flung yellow flower petals at Tannen, for laughing again. "Someone is usually standing in the recesses, waiting to hit on me."

"You're intelligent and attractive, so it doesn't surprise me. Do you think you were fair to the masses?" She collected the petals and placed them back on the tray.

"Not at all, but they had plenty of warning. I think each had their idea of changing me, that each was my destiny."

"So you allowed them to prove themselves wrong. It sounds to me like you had a good time at their expense. La femme fatale?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You used them. Sex, companionship-"

"It wasn't like that at all."

"Oh, come on darling. If you didn't love them, what else is there?"

Gail looked at Tannen for a very long time. Neither spoke. Gail knew Tannen was correct in her assessment.

"I did care for them, Tannen. What is it you want to hear? That I've been called an unscrupulous bitch? Someone once said I was more dangerous than the Huns. Is that what you want to hear?"

"No, Gail, and I doubt you were evil in your intentions." Tannen leaned closer. "I want to hear what happened to all of those wonderful things you write about. They're obviously inside you."

"They aren't me. In forty years, love happened once. When that came to an abrupt end, loving ceased."

"How does loving cease?"

"In a moment's notice; wrong choices."

"No, Gail. Why did it happen? What happened?"

Gail picked at the carpet in front of her. She'd forgotten how she could suddenly feel as though someone had beaten the hell out of her. Stagnant emotions began to boil inside her.

"It doesn't matter, Tannen. It was a long time ago."

"Darling, you're so wrong." She moved the tray and sat in front of Gail. Tannen took hold of Gail's hands. "It's very present in this room."

Gail touched the thick chain link bracelet on Tannen's wrist. With two fingers, she unhooked the clasp and took it into her hand. Silver matched well with Tannen's hair. There was a tab joining the links at the center and the engraving read: Please return to Tiffany & Co. New York.

"Let me guess: white gold and not silver?"

Tannen nodded and bit her lip.

"You're wearing an eighteen-hundred-dollar bracelet, sitting in the middle of my guest-room floor?"

"I like the bracelet."

"It puts my carpet to shame, but it's nice."

"Not to mention a nice diversion, for you." Tannen let go of Gail's hand.

"A perfect diversion, but I do like the bracelet." She draped it over Tannen's nose and Tannen removed it. She hooked it to Gail's wrist.

"It looks good on you, darling."

Forgetting about the bauble, Gail pushed herself from the floor and extended her hand to Tannen.

"Come with me. I have something to show you."

She pulled Tannen to her feet and intended to release her hand, but Tannen held fast. Very brave of you, Tannen. Did you train your hand to send heat streaking up a person's arm? It'll take more than your soft hand to push me off the sofa. They stood close enough that Gail could feel Tannen's breath against her neck. And it'll take more than your lips teasing me. Gail pulled her hand away from Tannen's. I can do this. I can face you, and I can face my past, without either one affecting me. She motioned toward the door.

"After you," she said.

They went downstairs and into the writing room. Gail led Tannen to a bookcase. On the top shelf was a copy of every novel Gail had written. Pastels jacketed the hardback novels. On the shelf below, Gail pointed to a solitary bottle and Tannen snared it.

"Ah! The ketchup bottle still exists," Tannen marveled. She appeared to reunite with an old pal.

"I thought it would amuse you." Gail leaned against the bookcase and watched Tannen's examination of the container.

"It remains unopened, I see." Tannen turned the bottle around in her hands. She looked at the bottom, then ran her hand over the torn label. "What's inside, Gail?"

What's inside, Gail? What's inside Gail? "Torment, overwhelming defeat, anger, and despair; death, prudence, and fear," she said. "Just some of the fun, critical things a writer needs."

"What else?"

"Hope-a lot of hope-gratitude and generosity; lust, love, compassion, and purity. If you put it to your ear, you might hear a song or two, maybe the ocean." She smiled.

"It's warming to see you smile." Tannen returned the bottle to the shelf. "What songs, darling?"

Gail thought for a moment. "All of the notes are intermingling. It's quite a ruckus, but 'Mambo Number Five' and 'The Wanderer' are probably among them."

"They should be. It seems you've had a little bit of everyone."

Are you jealous? Gail thought. "Are you expecting me to react to that statement?"

"Do you have a reaction?"

"Yes. I am who I am, Tannen." Tannen didn't comment, but looked back at the bottle. I expected more battle from you.

"Let's open it," Tannen suddenly said and reached for the bottle, but Gail seized it and tossed it to the chair, ten feet away.

"It's not for publication." Gail narrowed her eyes. "Why are you pushing my buttons?"

Tannen glanced toward the chair, then stepped back from Gail. She crossed her arms and looked down at her feet. After a deep breath, she exhaled slowly; her eyes scanned slowly to Gail's shoulders. She looked across them, and then suddenly into Gail's eyes.

Before Gail could calculate her feelings on what she thought was about to happen, Tannen retrieved the bottle and returned it to the bookshelf.

Tannen nodded toward the container. "There must be tens of thousands of grains of sand imprisoned there."

Gail nodded. "More or less."

"Oddly enough, they're imprisoned in a vessel made from their likeness. Hardly seems fair, does it?"

"It's a bottle with sand. Neither has the ability to care where it is."

"True," Tannen said, "but it could represent one of the basic formulas for a writer: man against himself. You could be this bottle. Do you agree, darling?"

"Yes. Different people might find different meanings. It could also represent a keepsake, which it is."

"Absolutely a keepsake." Tannen reached for the bottle and Gail nearly stopped her, but let her proceed. "A treasure could be inside."

"Why the fascination?" Gail asked.

Tannen rolled the bottle around in her hands. Again the grains twisted and turned. She read the remaining English from the front label, speaking as though she were promoting the commercial product for a television advertisement.

"...mato...chup. Free from artificial color and preservative." She smiled at Gail. "Imagine: so much freedom for a tomato product. No freedom for the sand, though." She coddled the bottle and ran her fingers over the glass. She tapped it with her knuckle. "It's a tough bottle with a very thick shell. Is there a weak spot, Gail? If I drop this bottle, would the contents come rushing out?"

Gail looked into Tannen's eyes. She was curious, but also unsettled with Tannen's intentions. Gail watched, concerned. The bottle dangled, swinging left and right, from Tannen's fingertips. When she reached for the bottle, Tannen rightfully handed it over.

"I have well-padded carpet." She silently prayed that the bottle would not shatter. Gail dropped it between them. It bounced twice before coming to rest against Tannen's foot. Gail leaned her elbow on a shelf of the bookcase and challenged Tannen. "Would you care to try a new approach?" She waited for a new analogy and toyed with the bracelet on her wrist.

Tannen picked up the bottle and placed it back on the shelf. She stepped closer to Gail. Gail took half a step backward.

"Yes. No more innuendo," Tannen said. "You found no scenes with me talking between the lines, did you?"

Suddenly feeling cornered, a voyeur apprehended, Gail asked, "You watched the disk?"

"It happens often, but not with me. I set the rules for a love scene, just as you've set your silent rule of 'don't touch.' You obviously don't want misguided body parts from me." She placed her hands on Gail's shoulders and continued her gentle confrontation, closer now. "Darling, I've been nearly unwavering, trying to respect you and your home, but I'm tired of my performance. I want a new role. If you want me to leave then tell me, but I'm breaking the rule, this one time."

Gail whispered, "Oh no," and watched Tannen's mouth move toward hers.

"Oh bloody yes."

Gail leaned back, just out of Tannen's five-foot, six-inch reach, but Tannen reached behind Gail's neck. With her toes, she pushed herself to Gail's height.

"I don't mind working for it, darling." She pulled Gail's mouth onto hers.

Gail closed her eyes and made no effort to stop Tannen. Her hands gradually tightened their grip on Tannen's hips. For a flicker of time, Gail cursed the allure of Clive Christian and of women. Especially Tannen. Tannen's mouth moved amorously against Gail's. Powerless and wanting, Gail returned the kiss. When Tannen eased herself to the flat of her feet, Gail leaned down, not allowing their lips to separate. Her hands moved around Tannen's hips and slowly up her back. She tightly embraced Tannen. If a kiss could ever sprout rosebuds around her heart, this was that kiss. She tried to disengage from the many wonderful feelings that coursed throughout her, but she was out of control, drawn fully into the kiss, into the sweet warmth of Tannen's mouth. Gail's toes curled. When she felt the slow parting of Tannen's lips, Gail refused to further become like her romance characters or characters in MAD magazine. I can't give you that much intimacy, she thought, pulled away, and took a breath.

Gail's lips, wet from Tannen's kiss, felt cool. She felt each atom of moisture as it dissipated into the air. The reaction was a reminder of the splendor she had just experienced. Her heart ricocheted throughout her chest.

Tannen's thumb neared Gail's mouth. "You're wet."

More than you'll ever know, Gail thought. "Don't." Gail's hand stopped Tannen from erasing the physical memory. "It's okay."

"Your hand is trembling," Tannen said.

Gail released Tannen's hand. She gazed at her mouth, desperate to feel her lips again. Your lips are marvelous. You nearly had me.

"Now that I've broken the rule, will you toss me into the freezing cold?"

"It's eighty degrees outside."

"If you ordered me out, it would feel freezing."

Gail ran her fingers through Tannen's hair. Her gaze lingered over Tannen's facial features and finely shaped eyebrows. Even the fine creases at the corners of Tannen's eyes encouraged Gail to look longer. She pushed Tannen's hair behind her ears. Tannen closed her eyes and leaned her cheek into Gail's palm. It was a small act, but one that echoed great intimacy to Gail.

"I'm not sending you out, Tannen. It was a nice kiss."

Looking at Gail again, Tannen frowned. "Merely nice?"

Tannen's faux frown amused Gail. I can't look at you enough. Gail dismissed the allure of expensive perfume and the simple thought of a schoolgirl crush. Tannen Albright had won Gail's attention. Now what do I do? You're not on my agenda, Tannen.

"Your eyes are beautiful kaleidoscopes of color." Gail ran the back of her finger below Tannen's eye. "Their color changes daily." Sure, Gail. Slather her with flirtatious and flattering remarks. They'll surely send her screaming into the night.

"My life has turned into a kaleidoscope." Tannen stepped back. "You have it spinning and you don't realize it. At the very least, you refuse to acknowledge it."

The statement awakened Gail to a greater reality behind Tannen's kiss. Gail sat on the sofa with no proper response. Her heart slammed against her chest. Her hands trembled and she clasped them tightly together. It was all she could do to conceal any evidence of fear, need, and desire. She wanted to reach for a thesaurus, a book of phrases, the Oxford English Dictionary, anything to help her through her next sentences. A random toss of Scrabble tiles might help; a Ouija board could provide answers. Tannen sat next to Gail and faced her.

"Gail, I kissed you. I didn't ask you to marry me. You have a fearful look to you."

Gail crossed her legs and looked at Tannen. "I somehow think a kiss of that degree means more to you than a spur-of-the-moment notion."

"My kiss wasn't a notion, darling. It was an expression of how I feel for you."

Gail took a slow breath, in an effort to stumble upon perspective. "I never imagined you would kiss me," she said. She played with the bracelet around her wrist. The distraction was handy for moments like this, and she addressed Tannen directly. "I've imagined losing what bit of self-control I have remaining, and I've even fantasized you and Karen together. Not once did I imagine you would kiss me." She looked at the Tiffany stamp on the bracelet and then looked back to Tannen. "But you're often faulted for being honest, aren't you?"

"I dislike playing coy with emotions. They're much too important to me. Are you angry with me?"

"No, I'm not angry but-" She fidgeted.

"There's no need-" Tannen stopped when Gail abruptly raised her hand.

"There is need, Tannen. I need you to listen."

"Of course, darling."

Gail spoke quickly, but without method. "We've developed a terrific friendship in a relatively short time. It's imperative that we maintain a distance. We'll be under the same roof for another two months. Then again, I could send you away, or you could go on your own. It's not like you're homeless." Gail looked at the smile Tannen was trying to conceal. She looked into Tannen's eyes. "I'm babbling, aren't I?"

"Yes," Tannen said.

Gail was silent. She mentally rearranged the Scrabble tiles, and searched for footing. She looked toward Tannen and threw a few more tiles down.

"Well? Do you have a response?"

Tannen blinked. "To your babbling?"

Gail muttered, "Shit," leapt from the sofa, and felt Tannen's smile. It penetrated Gail's back as she left the room.

"I'm going to work in the greenhouse for a while."

The gardener had restored most of the contents to the greenhouse during the early morning. Gail busied herself to get her mind off Tannen. She gathered stray planting pots, loose bags of fertilizer, and stored them for next year. She swept the floor, and then tended the begonias she had promised to her neighbor. Karen had insisted that Gail not give them away because "that neighbor has money coming out of her ass." Gail responded with "I don't mind, and you can walk behind her with a bucket."

Gail tried calling Karen, but connected only to Karen's voice mail. To alleviate the heavy scent of paint that permeated the air, she hosed the walls and opened all windows.

She sat on the table that held the budding and seedling impatiens. Gail glanced among the foliage that she should be transplanting but instead she sat, dangling her legs and thinking. She reprimanded herself for the control she'd lost with Tannen. She growled and vigorously kicked her feet together, punishing her toes for their misbehavior.

"I should hack you to pieces!"

Tannen's kiss felt generously loving, but not something Gail wanted to get used to. She could get very used to it, and that was the problem. Tannen's lips had awakened desire within Gail. It was the second most difficult moment in her life, not taking that kiss into the bed. After all, Gail was about the free feeling of a quick tryst. It was never love.

She patted herself on the back for not taking that extra step. Tannen was not the type to settle for one night. Tannen was about loving and having love returned. She was about commitment, about always, and about forever-all the things that Gail denied herself.

Gail struggled to deny she felt anything for Tannen, but she felt a menacing twinge wrench her belly each time Tannen entered or exited a room. A pull to her abdomen told Gail to let Tannen love her, and to give Tannen love in return. The same pull shrouded Gail a little more each time.

Gail refused herself permission to love.

She sat, tormented with memories of her past. There was a party. Friends gathered for an evening of fun, and bottles of wine were communal. Her head pounded from the wine, and she decided to leave the party. Sweet, precious Olivia. We'd been together for only a few months, but I've never loved again.

Gail forced herself not to cry, and she pushed herself from the table. Feeling sorry for herself was not commonplace. She placed the coral impatiens outside. When her cell phone finally jangled the Bach minuet, the number wasn't Karen's. It warranted no cause to stop working. She set down two more plants, and her cell rang again. The same number lit, and this time she answered.

"Hello."

In perfect Cockney, Tannen sang the first stanza of "Wouldn't It Be Loverly?" from My Fair Lady. Tannen's ditty made Gail smile.

"How good hearing from you, Miss Doolittle." Gail walked to the doorway and looked toward Tannen's bedroom. Tannen stood at the window. She wiggled "hello" with her fingers. "How long have you been standing there?" Gail asked.

"About fifteen minutes." Tannen crouched down and peered over the windowsill. She whispered, "I'm stalking you."

I'll never admit this to you, but I love how you flirt, Gail thought and stepped away from the door.

"Oh, come back, darling. I like seeing you down there."

She stepped into the doorway again. "Now you see me," and she stepped back out, "now you don't."

"You look like a cheap cuckoo clock."

"While I keep your attention, my man-eating plants are about to enter your room."

Gail heard Tannen laughing, and she watched as Tannen collapsed to the floor. Naked feet appeared on the windowsill. They tap-danced to an unheard melody.

"Tickle tickle," Gail said.

"Hmm?"

"I'm tickling your feet."

Tannen wiggled her feet, and they suddenly disappeared from the window.

"I've told you they're very ticklish." Tannen stood again. "Gail-"

Gail didn't wait for the next words. She grabbed the garden hose, aimed, and sprayed Tannen, to an earsplitting yelp on the phone.

"God damn it, that's cold! You're a monster!"

"Cold water somehow seems appropriate." She replaced the hose and looked toward Tannen's window. She was there, leaning on the windowsill and looking down at Gail. Gail dared to ask, "Did you enjoy kissing me?" She watched a smile appear on Tannen's lips.

"Yes, but it ended much too soon. Your lips are silken, warm, and I could kiss you forever. You curled my toes, darling."

"Is that so?" Gail feigned nonchalance but silently reprimanded her own toes for curling.

"Very much so, Gail."

Both were silent until Tannen filled the empty air with the Doolittle tune once again.

"Tannen, why did you call me? Is there something on your mind?" That was a stupid question.

"If you're really not angry with me, I think we need a night out, darling," Tannen said. "We could use some fun."

"I agree. Let's go to Foxwoods casino."

"Perfect. There's one catch."

Tannen closed her phone and waved for Gail to come to her room.

Дата добавления: 2015-08-27