Les Tales Page 24

  “Shelley?”

  My head shot upright, and I spun on my heels to face Clarissa.

  She extended her hand to me. “Or is that not your real name?” Clarissa smiled delicately, slight crow’s-feet registering about her eyes.

  “I . . . um . . . Hi,” I stammered, looking around to see who saw us engaged in conversation, as if we were still partially naked at the mansion.

  She leaned forward and whispered. “It’s okay. You’re safe here.” She winked.

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “Thank God for church. My prayers have been answered.” She lifted her arms in the air like she was in worship. “I had hoped to see you again. You’re just as beautiful as I remembered.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Walk with me.”

  Clarissa led us out of the church and into the parking lot. We trod slowly, careful not to slip on the iced-over snow.

  “So. Nina . . . is she still your lover?”

  “You know Nina? You know Nina’s real name?” I questioned.

  Clarissa laughed. “Yes, I know of Nina. Once upon a time she was Nancy and I was Connie. All the newbies come up with fake names until they’ve acclimated.” She faced me. “So tell me. What’s your name?”

  I hesitated before answering. “Taryn.”

  We approached a brand-new black Range Rover. Clarissa stopped next to the driver’s door. “Taryn, I would love to meet for a cup of coffee.”

  “Clarissa, I appreciate the invitation.” I stared at the snowflakes that had begun to fall. “I’ve been through a lot lately. I don’t think I’m ready for what you’re looking for.”

  “You don’t know what I’m looking for until I’ve offered it,” she told me. “Let’s start with coffee and take it from there. Come on. Who doesn’t love a good cup of java?”

  I kicked ice with the pointy heel of my boot. “Okay. Yes.”

  Clarissa reached into her designer bag and handed me her card. “Wonderful. Call me.” She pushed the remote to unlock her door, got inside the car, and drove off. Only once I was inside my own car did I look at the card. Clarissa Benson was a vice president at one of the nation’s most renowned accounting firms. I slid her card into my wallet, smiling to myself. Nina was right. Voyeurs were everywhere, at every turn, and you never knew where you might bump into one.

  Jenna and I had decided to travel for a portion of her Christmas break. She had returned home before our scheduled flight to New York City, where we would enjoy a seven-day vacation. I was finishing packing the night before our departure when I realized I needed more baggage. I went into the guest bedroom to retrieve another piece of luggage. My heart stumbled in my chest when I picked up a carry-on bag. It hadn’t been used since our family trip to the Virgin Islands, and my mind recalled seeing it draped over Layne’s shoulder as she brought it from the car into the house the night before she died.

  I returned to my bedroom, placed the small carry-on on my bed, and began filling it with scarves and hats, the same accessories I’d choose for Chicago’s weather. When I opened a side pocket to stow my jewelry, I found an envelope. On it was my name, written in Layne’s handwriting. I flipped the envelope repeatedly in my hands, caressed the lettering, my finger tracing the large, loopy T at the beginning of my name. Finally, I sat on the bed and slowly opened the cream paper.

  My dearest Taryn,

  I write this letter to you as our annual family vacation comes to an end. It is with a heavy heart that I begin this note, as I am unsure how to express what I have to say. For the first time in ten years, I will try.

  I love you. Oh, how I love you. I have loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you. You have done nothing but love me unconditionally and unselfishly, and yet I cannot tell you I have mirrored the same love for you. I have wronged you in unimaginable ways, and I beg you in advance for forgiveness. At last, my eyes have opened. You will see a change in me once we’re home. I recommit my vows to you and promise from this day forward to love you as you have always deserved.

  For years, you asked why I loved you. Let me tell you. . . .

  Taryn, you are the sunshine peeking through the clouds on a rainy day

  The star I wish upon on a moonlit night, filling me with hope.

  You are a butterfly grazing my skin with delicate kisses against my lips,

  The nectar of a flower whose sweetness I crave,

  My favorite melody played softly in my ear.

  You are an orange sun grazing the horizon, shedding light on my day,

  The treasure found at the end of my rainbow,

  A treasure so golden, so precious, and so rare.

  You are forever locked within the walls of my heart,

  And the key only you shall hold.

  As long as my heart beats, it beats for you.

  And even once it stops, know that I love you.

  Always. Forever. Layne

  With the back of my hand, I wiped the salty tears that streamed down my face. Jenna knocked on the door and peeked her head inside the room.

  “Mom, you okay?” she asked after noticing my tears. She sat next to me on the bed and stroked my hair, which I had begun to wear down regularly.

  I sniffed. “Yes.” I placed the letter back in the envelope and set it on my lap. “It’s from Layne. She wrote it the day before the accident.”

  “What does it say?”

  Another tear escaped and fell onto the envelope. I wiped it gently with my index finger. “It says everything I always wanted to hear.”

  Jenna leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “The car will be here at seven. Meet me downstairs.” We hugged tightly before she got up and left. I set the envelope next to the carry-on, and then I continued adding personal items to it. When I finished packing, I positioned the luggage upright at my door and retrieved the small gold key from a dish on Layne’s nightstand. Before I left to go downstairs, I pulled my hair into a tight bun, securing it with several hairpins. I took the letter into Layne’s office, closing the door behind me. I sat at her desk and used the key to open the bottom right drawer.

  I removed all of Layne’s journals and tearfully replaced them with the letter. At last, I had what I had always wanted from Layne: a declaration of her love for me. In that moment, as I took Layne’s journals to the shredder, I realized that I was and always would be the fruit of my mother’s labor, the reverential offspring who clung to the roots from which she had sprouted.

  Page by page, I erased the truth of Layne’s past, my mind and heart focused solely on the future we’d never see.

  With all that had happened since Layne’s death, I wanted to act on the new woman I thought I had become: strong, independent, and carefree. And yet at my core I was my mother’s child, a woman who wanted only to be loved in whatever form it came. I accepted Layne’s profession of love with a sense of liberation, because in the end, Layne had wanted a new beginning with me. She might never have shown me, and now she would never be able to prove it, but I believed she loved me, just because she told me so.

  Honey and Absinthe

  by

  Fiona Zedde

  Chapter 1

  Chloe Graham used her hip to shut the door of her green Honda Civic. She tripped over the sidewalk and cursed, almost falling over her small suitcase.

  “Shit!” she muttered under her breath as she grabbed the handle of the suitcase and wrestled it up onto the sidewalk. Then she picked up her duffel bag and yanked it up to her shoulder.

  In black stilettos, a short yellow skirt, and a barely there sheer blouse that exposed her black bra and diamond belly ring, she was definitely not dressed for moving. But it was what she felt like wearing. It had been a real hell of a week, and she wanted to feel at least a little pretty to counteract some of that. Never mind the fact that it was October in Atlanta and what she could actually f
eel was the bite of the wind on just about every part of her skin.

  Shivering, Chloe quickly made her way up the driveway, past a gleaming black convertible, to the light green, three-story house that belonged to her mother and stepfather.

  Even with the wind, the mid-afternoon sun warmed her arms and shoulders, sinking into her halo of natural coils and into her scalp as she hurried up the drive. She was tired and sad. But she didn’t want to look like either of those things, hence, the stilettos and tiny skirt. They were her armor against all the bullshit the world had recently thrown at her in the form of an unfaithful girlfriend and the need to move back home at the ripe old age of twenty-three, just because she lost her high-paying, straight-out-of-college job to said ex-girlfriend and side chick drama.

  She’d already had a long day, having dropped off in a storage unit nearby the meager possessions she’d gathered in the five years of living away from home. With the U-Haul returned and her car off the tow dolly, she felt a bit more like herself. More free.

  She clattered up the front porch with her bags and fumbled to unlock the door, nearly dropping the keys twice in the process. As she pushed open the door, the smell of fresh baked bread flowed out to meet her. She heard raucous feminine laughter, Goapele’s light and sensuous voice on the stereo singing about angel wings fluttering. Stepping into the bright living room of her parents’ home, which was like a page from Southern Living magazine, Chloe immediately felt an unburdening, a sense of everything being better with the world. The familiar feeling of belonging whenever she was in Atlanta.

  “Honey!” Her mother jumped up from the couch with a wide and welcoming smile. “I didn’t know you were coming today.”

  Kai, the other woman sitting on the couch, crinkled the corners of her eyes but did not stand.

  On the coffee table were the remnants of a pumpernickel loaf and two glasses of hot apple cider. Her mother, a gourmet caterer and personal chef, must have just baked bread and invited her friend over to sample it.

  “Surprise,” Chloe said, weakened by her mother’s happiness and Kai’s unexpected presence. She had barely dropped her bags on the floor before her mother swept her up in a tight hug, kissing her cheeks. Her eyes tingled with the tears she hadn’t shed the entire time her ex-girlfriend, Jerica, had been tearing her life apart.

  “If you’d told me you were coming today, we would have helped you.”

  Her mother, slender and beautiful with her short silver hair and a knee-length orange sheath dress, spoke automatically for her best friend, who only leaned back farther on the couch to watch them.

  “Hey, Little Bit.” Kai greeted Chloe with a widening of her smile, calling her the nickname she’d used for her since she was a child.

  Kai was coolness itself, as evidenced by her masculine sprawl in her corner of the couch. As she tilted her head at Chloe, her waist-length copper locks caught the sunlight pouring in through the windows on both sides of the room. The multicolored scarf she wore over the thin cotton shirt she’d paired with loose jeans fit her sinfully well. When she was younger, Chloe often teased her that she was like a female version of Lenny Kravitz.

  “Hi, Mom. Kai.” Chloe smiled despite the exhaustion of the day. And despite the knocking in her chest at the sight of her mother’s best friend. “You know I had to do things on my own. Everything’s already been put into storage. This is all I have with me until I sort out the job in New York.”

  Her mother tugged at a long coil of Chloe’s hair. “What on earth are you wearing?”

  “Clothes.” Giving her mother a devilish look, Chloe pulled away and waited for Kai to approach her.

  Light flickered in the depths of Kai’s green and gold eyes as she took in all of Chloe. Moving with her typical lethargic grace, she rose from the couch for her hug. She never rushed to do anything, even when she was supposed to be in a hurry.

  “You used to dress like this back in the day, Noelle. Don’t even act.” Kai pulled Chloe into her tall body.

  Warmth. The smell of the spicy-sweet cinnamon and rose body oil she wore. The strong arms that always seemed like they could handle anything. As they hugged, Kai’s necklace, a fire opal set in silver and hanging from a silver chain, pressed into Chloe’s collarbone.

  “Thank you, Kai.” Chloe allowed herself to cling briefly to the other woman and breathe deeply of her scent. “It’s good to see you.”

  Chloe was in love with Kai, completely and unequivocally.

  This unrequited love was the reason she’d left Atlanta to go to Los Angeles for school. Even though she would have loved to go to Spelman, her feelings for the older woman in her last few years of high school had been out of control. The only way she knew to get past them was to run to the other side of the country. And now here she was again.

  Chloe bit the inside of her cheek and pulled back from Kai, even though she longed to lean on her until the exhaustion in her body went away, along with all the problems that had plagued her in the past year.

  “Kai and I were about to go grab a bite at The Flying Biscuit. You should come with us. We’ll buy you lunch, and you can tell us all about the drive from California.”

  “That’s the last thing I want to talk about.” Chloe made a face. “But I will take you up on lunch, though.”

  “Good.” Kai glanced at Chloe’s high heels. “You may want to change your shoes. We’re walking down there.” The restaurant was less than half a mile from the house.

  “Okay. Just give me a sec.” Chloe reached for her duffel bag, but before she could lift it, Kai took it from her.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t break your shoulder carrying this thing.” Kai lifted the bag to her shoulder. “What do you have in here? Weights?”

  “Just a few books, shoes, and clothes.” Chloe shrugged. Plus, her vibrator and spare batteries.

  “Like mother, like daughter.” Kai strode ahead of her with the duffel bag, her steps long and graceful as she headed for the stairs.

  Her mother grabbed Chloe’s suitcase. “Let us at least do this for you.” She turned to follow Kai.

  Chloe stepped into her bedroom in time to see Kai drop her duffel bag on the bed. Her entire body prickled with awareness of the other woman—all five feet, ten inches of muscled flesh and confident beauty—who seemed at ease no matter where she was. How often had she dreamed of having Kai in her bedroom?

  She slipped past Kai to unzip the duffel bag, trying to act naturally as the woman turned to leave the room. Behind her, she heard her mother curse softly and drop the suitcase.

  “Grab this bag for me, please, Kai. My cell phone’s ringing.” Her mother ran back downstairs.

  “I can get it,” Chloe said a moment before Kai brushed past her to pick up the suitcase.

  “Maybe next time, Little Bit,” she said with a grin. She rolled the suitcase into the room and against the far wall while Chloe dug into her duffel for a different pair of shoes to wear. Maybe even different clothes. She was suddenly self-conscious with so much skin on display in front of Kai.

  The older woman hesitated in the doorway, hands in the pockets of her jeans, the patchwork scarf bringing out the fierce green in her eyes. “Everything okay, Little Bit? You don’t seem like yourself.”

  Chloe grabbed a pair of red Converse from the duffel bag, then, after a pause, sat down on the bed to take off her stilettos.

  I wish you wouldn’t call me Little Bit. I’m not a child anymore.

  “Things are okay now,” she said instead. “My last few months in LA were a mess. It’s good to be home, though.”

  “If you ever want to talk about it, you know I’m here.”

  “I do. Thanks.”

  Kai nodded once, then slowly left the room. Chloe let out a deep breath.

  Yes, Kai was there.

  She couldn’t forget that if she tried. Even now, her unsteady breath reminded her of the many daydreams she’d had about Kai, the times she’d touched herself to thoughts of the other woman simply kissing he
r. Chloe’s fingers trembled as she searched her duffel bag for a pair of jeans.

  Kai was the most handsome and most beautiful woman Chloe had ever known. Her mother had often teased her about how, when Chloe was a baby, Kai was the only person she would allow to hold her without fussing or crying with enough lung power to wake the dead.

  If anything, her childhood adoration for her mother’s best friend had grown only deeper. Her feelings had grown from an infatuation to a teenage crush to this deep and troubling desire that threatened to incinerate her from the inside out. She’d tried so many times to kill her love for Kai, to tell herself that it was wrong and that it could never bear anything more than rotten fruit. But her heart wanted what it wanted. And it wanted only Kai.

  The only good thing about being bombarded by memories and her desire for Kai was that it distracted her from what she had just gone through with Jerica. The pangs of her ex’s betrayal were already less than when she’d walked in the house. If Kai kept up this palliative effect, Chloe would be over all her ex drama by the next week. Hopefully.

  She smiled wryly at herself in the mirror before quickly changing into a jacket, tight jeans, and her Converse.

  Downstairs, she met Kai and her mother at the door.

  “I’m ready,” Chloe announced.

  They left the house and took the winding sidewalk toward the Candler Park neighborhood, strolling shoulder to shoulder through the fallen leaves. Chloe drew in a deep breath of the autumn air, enjoying the crispness of it in her lungs. This was nothing like LA, and she was grateful for that.

  “That looks much better,” her mother said, eyeing Chloe’s outfit. She looped her arm around Chloe’s.

  “Or at least warmer.” Kai’s bright eyes skimmed over Chloe’s body in a casual appraisal. “But you look beautiful no matter what you’re wearing.”

  Chloe nearly stumbled at the unexpected compliment, far used to the other woman being more sparing with her praises. She found herself staring at Kai, then forced her eyes away when her mother asked her how long she planned on staying in Atlanta.