Authors: Julie Blair
“Are you okay?” Sara’s hand on her back pulled Carla from her spell as the woman pulled the leash free of her legs, apologizing to Carla and scolding the dog.
“Fine.” Carla tried to shake off the feel of Jamie’s hand against her breast as they resumed the run, but it took her a while to find her rhythm again.
“Anyone up for breakfast?” Carla asked, as they walked around to cool down.
“I’m on a diet until the competition,” Sara said.
“I’m sure you can get egg whites and cottage cheese,” Carla said. This morning wasn’t going to end here if she could help it.
Jamie checked her watch. “I’d like to but—”
“Great. Let’s walk.” Carla made sure she was next to Jamie as they crossed the bridge over Highway 17 and walked into downtown Los Gatos. Yes, her body had responded to Vanessa but there was nowhere she’d rather be than next to Jamie. If she was lucky she’d have the afternoon with her, too. Tomorrow she’d make friends with reality again.
“Do either of you come to the Farmer’s Market?” Carla asked, as they passed vendors lined up along the street. She missed Sunday mornings with Mike when they’d visit the farmers’ market and then go to breakfast.
“I do,” Sara said. “Chicken and vegetables, fish and vegetables.”
“Dedication,” Carla said. “My taste buds would rebel if I didn’t indulge them. Although it’s not as much fun cooking for one.”
“I thought you were married?”
“We’re getting divorced.”
“I’m sorry, Carla.”
“It’s mutual and amicable. How about here?” Carla stopped in front of a diner.
*
Jamie looked at the people lined up outside and checked her watch again. “Um, okay.” If she went home now she’d still have to eat breakfast, and she was enjoying the camaraderie.
“I’ll go put my name in,” Carla said, walking away.
“I didn’t think you guys could keep up with me,” Sara said, looking smug.
“If I’m limping around tomorrow it’s all your fault. I’m already sore from playing softball Friday.” The practice slow-pitch game had kindled something in Jamie, like a forgotten favorite song that kept replaying. She was going to figure out a way to play on Penni’s team.
“Didn’t you play in college?”
“Yep. Pitcher.” Jamie went through her windup, almost bumping into a woman who walked in front of her.
“If you love a sport you never get over it, do you?”’
“No. You don’t.” She needed softball back in her life.
Carla came back with coffees for all of them and Jamie almost groaned. She drank greedily as Carla and Sara talked recipes.
They were finally shown to a booth. Jamie slid onto one side and Sara the other. Carla hesitated before sliding in next to Sara. The waitress set menus on the table and said she’d be right back with coffee.
Jamie snapped the menu shut after barely looking at it. “Blueberry pancakes,” she said, smacking her lips.
“A woman after my own heart.” Carla closed her menu.
Sara groaned. “Can I have a teensy little bite?”
“Maybe.” Jamie said, smiling at the hungry look on Sara’s face. “So are you training seven days a week?”
“I was but I’m backing off. The competition’s Saturday, and I’m ready to have a life outside the gym again. In fact,” Sara said, with a laugh, “I went up to the Castro last night with some friends to a comedy club.”
Jamie tensed. She knew what was coming. Should she have told Carla?
“It was lesbian comic night and we laughed our asses off.”
Carla’s eyes shifted from her to Sara with a puzzled expression. “Are you gay, Sara?”
“Yep. Thought you knew. You have a funny look on your face. It’s not a problem, is it?”
“No, no problem at all. In fact…” Carla looked at Jamie, her face the picture of proud. “I’m a lesbian, too.”
“You are?” Sara’s eyes widened.
“Yes, I am.”
“You’re…wow…I don’t know what to say, Carla.”
“Congratulations?” Carla offered, smiling broadly.
“Coming out at your age…and you don’t seem shy about it.”
“I believe strongly in out and proud.”
“Excuse me,” Jamie said. She headed toward the back of the restaurant, irritated. How was it that her office manager came out with such ease to someone she barely knew and her partner was trying to pretend she wasn’t a lesbian to get a promotion?
Standing outside the back door she stood against the stucco wall and propped her foot against it. The sun was warm on her face, and she tried to chase away the anger with deep, measured breaths. Was she irritated at Carla or Sheryl or herself? Why should she care whom Carla came out to? She clenched her jaw. Sara was a lot younger, but they were becoming friends. Would Sara ask Carla out? That’s all she needed in her office…under her nose…right in front of her eyes. She walked back to the table, anxious to get this breakfast over with.
“I was just telling Sara a woman I went out with Friday night called it converting. She said coming out had too much of a Southern-debutante association to it.”
“Dating already. You won’t be single long,” Sara said.
“I don’t want to be single for a minute. I love being joined at the hip.”
“I’ll have the blueberry pancakes and bacon,” Jamie blurted out when the waitress came to take their order. “Extra crispy.” Was Sheryl the only one who didn’t think being joined at the hip was good?
“I’ll have the same,” Carla said, smiling at Jamie.
“Next time we go up to that club do you want to come with us?” Sara asked, after she’d given her order.
“I’d love to.”
“Great,” Jamie muttered.
No, she won’t be single long.
“I ordered some lesbian fiction from a website my daughter’s girlfriend told me about. Some yummy stuff. There’s so much lesbian culture to explore.” Carla rubbed her hands together.
Jamie choked on the coffee she was drinking. “Maybe you should slow down,” she muttered, under her breath.
“Your daughter’s a lesbian, too?” Sara asked.
“Oh, guess I forgot to include that part.”
Jamie panicked when Carla started to tell the story. Sara knew Sheryl was principal of Los Gatos High. “So,” Jamie blurted out, “maybe we could do this next week?”
“I’m in,” Sara said.
“Me, too,” Carla said.
“With Carla on board we’re now fifty percent of the office. Have you ever marketed to the gay community, Jamie?” Sara draped her arms over the back of the bench. She was wearing a sleeveless T-shirt that showed off the defined muscles of her arms.
“A little bit before my father died,” Jamie said. Carla was looking at Sara. Was she checking her out? She wouldn’t really go out with her, would she? “Then things got crazy and it was all I could do to handle his patient load. I wasn’t looking for more.”
“I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you. You’ll get through this and the clinic will be okay. Especially now that Carla’s running things.” Sara patted Carla’s shoulder.
Jamie looked at Carla. She’d become the lynchpin of her office. The waitress set plates in front of them and conversation drifted to lesbian culture. Carla asked questions with the same curiosity and eagerness she had that night in Atlanta. So much was different about her but so much was the same.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Sara said, when they got back to their cars.
“I should be getting home.” Jamie lifted her sunglasses up on her head and fished the car key out of her pocket.
“I went furniture shopping yesterday,” Carla said, as she bent over and untied a key from her shoes. Her T-shirt rode up to expose a bit of her back. “I found a desk and chair I think you’ll like. I could show you.”
“Um, lemme make a phone call,” Jamie said, as she stepped away and dialed Sheryl’s number. Carla had gone furniture shopping on her own time. The least she could do was go look at it.
“I got tired of waiting so I’m over at Valley Fair mall. Are you gonna meet me?”
Jamie kicked at a hole in the asphalt. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” Sheryl sounded more curious than irritated.
“I need to go look at some furniture. My office manager is redecorating the office. Finally,” she added, with a laugh. “How about if I make that Chinese chicken salad for dinner that you like so much?”
“Okay. And can you fix that drain?”
“Sure. I’ll see you later, then.” They’d go their own ways for a few hours and then have a cozy dinner at home. Yeah, this could work. “I’m all yours,” she said to Carla. “New chair. Yippee!”
“Shall I drive and bring you back here?”
“Where are we going?”
“Santana Row.”
Jamie’s good mood faltered. It was across the street from where Sheryl was shopping. “I’ll meet you there.” Surely Sheryl wouldn’t wander over.
*
“I like it,” Jamie said, leaning back in the chair. “It fits me.” She rubbed her palms over the arms. “And it’s not dark brown.”
“We can order it in any color you want.” Carla crossed her arms and smiled. Outside the office Jamie reminded her of the adventurous woman who’d swept her off her feet. A couple nearby was debating the merits of a sectional couch. She envied them. She’d never be picking out new home furniture with Jamie. As close as they might be at the clinic or as friends, that piece would always be missing. “What?” she asked, when she realized Jamie was talking.
“I like the burgundy. Unless you think it’s not okay. I’m not good at picking colors.”
“Take cues from the clothes you like to wear. My living-room colors were from a print blouse.”
“Would you believe I have a burgundy silk shirt with blousy sleeves and pearl buttons that I love?”
“There you go. The main color for your office is officially burgundy. We can do a lot with that…gold is great with it, or greens. Do you want to order it today?”
“You mean I can’t take it with me?” Jamie stroked the arms of the chair.
“No. You have to leave this one here.” The little-kid smile was adorable, and Carla’s heart skipped a beat. How could Jamie in sweats and an old T-shirt make her heart throb? Right feeling, wrong woman.
“Can we look at the desk, too?”
“Over here,” she said, leading Jamie down the aisle. She’d take what time she could get with her. She pointed out several desks, explaining the differences between them
“You know a lot about furniture,” Jamie said, appreciation in her voice. “I like that one.” She pointed at a medium-sized desk. “I like the color of the wood…cherry, I think you said…and I love that it doesn’t have drawers on either side. I won’t feel all boxed in.” Jamie hunched her shoulders together and made a sour face.
“I like a woman who knows what she wants.” She glanced up to see Jamie looking at her, and for an instant there was that spark in her eyes that undid all Carla’s resolve about common sense. “Um, I take it you want to order it?” The look was gone and Jamie was smiling at an approaching sales clerk, who gave her an appraising look. Don’t even think about it, lady, Carla wanted to say.
“There’s a couch upstairs I think you’ll like. If you have time.” How much longer could she extend the afternoon? A chicken breast and broccoli and a glass of wine were all that waited for her at home.
“Lead on.”
“Do you mind if we detour for a quick peek at a bedroom set? I saw one yesterday I liked, and I want to see if I still like it.”
“Redecorating?”
“It seems like a good way to start my new life.” Jamie was quiet as they walked past bedroom furniture. Carla stopped in front of a canopy bed, light oak with darker wood inset on the foot and headboards. “It’s called a plantation bed. Is it silly for me to get something so old-fashioned?”
Jamie fingered the gauzy fabric fastened around one of the posts. “It’s beautiful, Carla.”
“You’re not just saying that because the bedspread’s burgundy, are you?”
“Some woman will be lucky to share this bed with you.” Jamie’s voice was soft, like a caress.
“Thank you.” Carla’s chest constricted with longing. Why couldn’t it be Jamie?
“My parents had a canopy bed. I’m sure it was my mom’s choice. I loved it. On days when she wasn’t feeling well I’d sit next to her and read to her. With the side panels pulled together it was like being in our own little tent.”
“What illness?” Carla knew she’d died young but not the details. Jamie was rubbing the bedspread in a slow back-and-forth motion. She wanted those strokes on her skin.
“Lupus. She was diagnosed before I was born.”
“I’m sorry. It sounds like you were close. What was she like?”
Jamie’s face softened in a way that surprised Carla. When she talked about her father she always looked so serious.
“You would have liked her—one of the kindest people I’ve known. She loved to garden, loved romantic comedies and historical romances. Wicked funny. It was impossible not to have fun around her. Would you believe she introduced me to rock music?”
“Did she teach you to dance, too?” She gulped when Jamie’s eyes darkened. Was she remembering that bar in Atlanta, too?
“As a matter of fact she did. I’d do my homework while she cooked dinner, and when a song came on we liked we’d dance around the kitchen.”
“What was her name?” Sadness clouded Jamie’s face, and Carla had to move away or she’d wrap her arms around her.
“Mary Anne. My middle name is Anne.”
“She sounds delightful, Jamie.” She would probably have bought the set anyway, but Jamie’s approval made it a definite.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about her lately. Maybe everyone does when they get close to the age when a parent died. I miss the talks we had about life, sports, my dreams. I think she knew she wouldn’t be around.” Jamie was quiet for several minutes. “You should buy this, Carla. It suits you.”
Carla nodded. All that Jamie had lost…no matter what it took she refused to let Jamie lose her business. “Let’s go look at the couch.”
Fifteen minutes later they’d ordered the couch in a burgundy-and-gold fabric. The sales clerk assumed it was for their home and there’d been an awkward moment. Carla squeezed onto the same step with Jamie as they rode the escalator down, soaking up these final moments.
“I can’t thank you enough for helping me make changes in my office.” Jamie fiddled with her keys as they stood outside the store.