September Canvas (19 page)

“Oh, that’s what we love to do,” Gloria said, a half smirk on her lips and a steely expression in her eyes. “I’m honored to dedicate my life to serving our community. It’s also a privilege to be able to keep our young safe and out of harm’s way.”

Gloria’s obvious hints would have been hilarious if they hadn’t devastated Deanna, who leaned heavily against Faythe. Determined not to let on how this venomous snake affected Deanna, Faythe held her tight. “Oh, I know,” Angela said. “It’s so important to find out the truth behind matters like that.” She found the nucleus of truth instantly, without realizing it.

Faythe squeezed Deanna’s side.
Please, honey, tell this woman off
once and for all. You can do it.
But Deanna remained quiet until Gloria said good-bye to Angela and Percy.

“Isn’t she a lovely, gracious person?” Angela asked.

“Actually, I thought she was a stuck-up bitch,” Trista said from behind her father. “I didn’t like her.”

“Me either,” Laney piped up.

Faythe was delighted. Maybe there was hope for the brats. She turned to Deanna, shaking her arm to get her attention. “Want to go help Miranda get ready for a little picnic with all of us? Maybe if we take a blanket and sit over by the flowers, it’ll work out. She loves them and they calmed her once before.” The question seemed to stir Deanna out of the personal hellhole Faythe knew she’d just visited.

“All right. Why not? We’ve already given the other families enough to gossip about.” She let go of Faythe and started across the lawn. Faythe studied Deanna’s rigid, squared shoulders and wondered how many times she’d had to grin and bear it over the last few years.

Sighing, she turned to the girls. “You two could help by bringing the food over.” Faythe turned to Angela and Percy. “And the plates and decorations?”

“Sure,” Percy said, and pushed his fingers through his thick, black hair. “We drove all the way here, after all.”

“Excellent. See you in a bit. Just give us ten minutes. If we can’t get through to her we’ll have to call it a day, I suppose, and let Deanna take care of her.”

“All right.” Angela looked like she would cry, but then she, like her daughter, seemed to pull strength from somewhere and followed her stepdaughters and husband over to the picnic table.

When Faythe reached Deanna, Miranda, and Irene, her armpits and palms burned from using the crutches so much. She approached them slowly, not wanting to trigger another episode. Surprisingly, Miranda looked up, her hands full of flowers with their stems picked exactly the same length. “Faythe,” she said. “Nice person.” Tears welled up in Faythe’s eyes. Deanna looked just as taken aback, while Irene fumbled for a tissue and blew her nose.

“If you only knew.” Deanna didn’t say anything else, but those few words made Faythe realize what a significant step this was for Miranda.

“I can imagine,” she murmured, and wiped quickly at her eyes.

“Now. Do you think this can spill over to your family?” Deanna’s look clearly said she’d rather they leave, but she nodded.

“Let’s try.” She cupped Miranda’s chin and quickly let go when Miranda pulled back with an annoyed look. “Miranda. How about we ask Mama over to have the picnic with us?”

“It is Saturday.”

“Yes. And it’s a special Saturday.”

“Mama comes on Sundays.”

“But today is a special Saturday. All the other students have all their family members here. It wouldn’t be fair if you couldn’t have that too, would it?” Deanna flinched after she spoke. Had her own words struck a chord within herself, Faythe wondered. Deanna and her mother had denied Miranda the joy of being a complete family for years.

“Families and picnics.” Miranda tilted her head as if she thought about it. “Even on Saturdays.”

“Yes. Even on Saturdays.”

Faythe intended to ask Deanna if any of them had ever bothered to ask Miranda what
she
wanted. Maybe the family feud kept them too occupied, and they had been trying to keep the hostility away from her. “Mama?” Miranda looked over at the table where Angela and the others were gathering their things. “Leaving?”

“No, no. They want to come over here and sit on a blanket like you and I sometimes do.”

“Yes. Come and sit on a blanket.” That seemed to settle things for Miranda. She turned her attention back to the flowers and started lining them up on the grass, color coded and in perfect order.

Faythe caught Angela’s attention and waved them over, and Irene offered to run up to Miranda’s room and get the big picnic blanket Deanna stored there. She was back before the others had transferred all the items from the table. Soon they all sat on the edge of the plaid blanket with Miranda in the middle, busily arranging the decorative flowers in the empty squares. Grateful for the Indian summer that allowed the flowers to bloom later than usual and the families to enjoy such a sunny day, Faythe bit into a croissant and poured herself some coffee. Nobody spoke much. Perhaps they felt they’d said too much before. Faythe couldn’t even begin to guess if this peace would last and lead to some understanding, but for now, it was a very good start.

When Faythe tripped and almost fell from exhaustion, Deanna took one of her crutches away. Wrapping her arm around Faythe’s waist, she helped her inside. Faythe’s skin was warm—no, hot, under her shirt. Worried that Faythe had overdone it, she hoped Faythe didn’t have a fever.

“It ended on a good note, don’t you think?” Faythe yawned.

“Yes. It did.” Despite the emotions buried so deeply only a drilling rig could find them, the afternoon had been all about Miranda instead of old family feuds. Deanna had even awkwardly patted her mother on her shoulder when she got into the car with Percy and the girls. Angela looked stunned and her eyes were suddenly shinier than usual. Could Angela have missed her as much as she— Deanna tried to focus on Faythe.

Feeling guilty about how Faythe had hobbled back and forth on her crutches on one peacekeeping mission after another, Deanna took a firmer hold of her. Instead of the relaxing event they’d planned, they’d ended up in a major family drama. Once Angela and her family left, Deanna spent more time with Miranda to make sure she was all right and didn’t realize how late it was until Faythe nodded off and nearly slipped off Miranda’s desk chair.

Faythe waved toward the bed when they entered her bedroom.

“Just want to lie down a bit. Can’t believe how sore my arms are. And my hands. And shoulders. Ow.”

“Why don’t I help you get ready for the night? You’re worn out.”

“I’m fine.” Faythe squinted up at Deanna. “Honestly. Just a bit sore and tired.”

“You fell asleep in the car before we even passed the school gates.”

“As I said. Tired.”

Deanna shook her head. “I’m going to run you a bath. That’ll help with the soreness.” She held up a hand to keep Faythe from objecting.

“Don’t worry. I’ll help you wrap your foot afterward.”

“All right.” Faythe sat on the bed, swaying. “I don’t understand why I’m so tired.”

“It’s been a long day.”

“I’m usually tougher than this.” Faythe looked peeved.

“Even the sun has its spots, and you’re obviously not that tough today. Actually, you were tough enough for ten earlier today when you stopped me from crumbling.” Self-conscious, Deanna hurried into the bathroom, turned on the water, and rummaged through Faythe’s bath salts. She loved how Faythe smelled, and when she opened a pink jar with the same scent, she poured some into the bathwater. When the tub was full, she had to quit stalling and face Faythe again.

Faythe was leaning against the pillows, her hand on the TV remote, almost asleep. She’d managed to remove everything but her underwear and the bandage around her foot, and her skin looked smooth and slightly tanned. Wearing only white cotton panties and sports bra, she seemed much younger than her age.

“Hey, the bath is ready. Want me to help you with that?” Deanna pointed at her wrapped foot.

“No, I’ll be fine. Just give me the crutches and—oh!” Faythe fell back onto the bed. “Damn it. Why am I so tired? I’m used to working long hours.”

“Not on crutches. Trust me. I know how much energy it takes to maneuver those suckers.”

“You’ve been on crutches?”

“When I was sixteen. Fell off a ladder and broke my ankle.” Deanna knelt in front of Faythe and began to unwrap her bandage. “I painted houses in the neighborhood on my summer break and misjudged a step. I landed on my left foot.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, but I was lucky. It healed without any complications. Hated the crutches though.”

“They hurt your arms.”

“That they do.” Deanna supported Faythe on the way to the bathroom. Trying not to let her eyes rove too obviously along Faythe’s half-naked body, she stopped inside the door, unsure what to do.

Faythe lit up. “Oh, how nice.” She looked down at herself balancing on one foot next to Deanna. “Would you feel awkward helping me get in? I’ve managed this on my own so far, but I really feel light-headed.”

“Not a problem.” Deanna felt like the world’s worst liar. Of course she would feel awkward. She wouldn’t be able to keep from ogling Faythe’s naked body, but she was pretty sure she could mask her reaction.
I hope
. She moved behind Faythe. “Arms up.” Damn if she was going to stand right in front of Faythe and stare at her breasts. She pulled the sports bra over Faythe’s head, then stared at her hips where the cotton panties beckoned her. Deanna spoke fast. “If I steady you, can you manage, then?”

“Sure.” Faythe steadied herself against the wall with one hand and tugged at her panties with the other. “Hell, this isn’t working. Let me sit on the edge of the tub.” She turned around and her breasts were the most beautiful Deanna had ever seen. Small, slightly pointy, and with plump, pink nipples, their sway was barely noticeable as Faythe managed to pull her panties down to her thighs and sit in one fluid motion. She swayed, but Deanna held her shoulders. “Careful.”

“Trying to.” Faythe pushed the panties off the rest of the way and eased them aside with her uninjured foot. “So. There.” She turned, holding on to Deanna, and slid gracefully into the large tub. “Jesus, this is heaven.” She sank below the foam on the surface, ending Deanna’s torment of trying to look everywhere but at Faythe’s breasts and the spare tuft of caramel brown hair between Faythe’s legs.

“I knew it’d be good for you. You’ll feel better soon.” Deanna knelt next to the tub and felt the water, making sure it hadn’t cooled.

“How about some tea?”

“Tea?” Faythe wrinkled her nose. “Have you ever seen me drink tea? Ever heard me
mention
that foul beverage?”

“Eh, no, now that I think about it.” Deanna smiled. Faythe looked cute with disgust written all over her face.

“If you’re going to bring us anything, I’d love an espresso.”

“Espresso? At this hour?” Deanna checked her watch. “It’s ten o’clock.”

“I’ll sleep like a baby. Coffee never keeps me up. Chocolate does, though. Could be good to know.”

“Okay, so if I want you awake, I’ll buy you some of that dark Lindt chocolate.”

“Right.” Faythe looked alarmed. “Oh, damn. You’re the one with all the emotional upset today and you have to pamper me like this. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, don’t worry. I’m not that upset. And I actually enjoy taking care of you. It’s been a while, not counting Miranda.”

“Really? I’m not coming off as a super-pain?”

“No. You’re fine.”
Damn it, you’re fine.

Faythe blushed and pushed her now wavy hair back from her face.

“If you look at me that way, I’ll pull you in here with me,” she said breathlessly.

“What way?” Deanna thought she’d managed to conceal her arousal.

“Like you want to push all the bubbles away and devour me… with your eyes.”

Deanna nearly leaped to her feet, but Faythe’s green eyes had mesmerized her.

“I do, but haven’t we moved beyond that?” Faythe spoke slowly, as if she carefully considered every word.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t get me wrong.” Faythe raised a soapy arm and outlined Deanna’s cheek with a wet finger. “I find you very attractive. Honestly, Deanna, you make me so hot sometimes, I forget to breathe. You’re stunning, you seem to see only me. You don’t undress me with your eyes. You don’t have to. It’s like you can see beneath my clothes, inside my heart sometimes. That’s why I say, this attraction thing…we’ve come further, haven’t we?”

Deanna struggled to take the next breath. “But you don’t want that. You’re not into relationships.”

“Oh.” Faythe’s hand lingered in the air and then she drew a new slow pattern on the side of Deanna’s neck. “I think you misunderstand. It’s not that I don’t want it. I just don’t think I have it in me, I mean, the knowhow.”

“So you’d want to if you thought you’d be able to?” Deanna tried to follow Faythe’s reasoning, which was damn near impossible when she touched her like this. A few drops of water ran inside her shirt collar and across her collarbone. One ran down to her cleavage and another disappeared into her bra. Shivering, Deanna clasped Faythe’s hand and held it to her cheek before kissing her fingertips gently.

“That question scares the living daylights out of me, Deanna, but when you do that… I’ve never let anyone close enough for the possibility to even come up.”

“I’m no great catch,” Deanna said, “and it’s not like I’m proposing.” Her cheeks warmed. “But these last few years have really screwed with my mind, and I need to know what I’m getting myself into.”

“Would you find having an autumn fling acceptable?”

“Define ‘fling.’”

“You know what a fling is!”

“I know my definition, but I’m not sure that’s what you mean. For me a fling is something temporary, feelings you count on will pass, and something shallow.” Deanna shook her head. “So, no. I really don’t think so.”

“What if it was tentative instead of temporary? And with feelings based on loyalty and friendship, with every potential to grow. And far from shallow.” Faythe trembled now, and Deanna cursed inwardly for putting her through this emotional workout when she was so tired and probably in pain.