I stood, pushing aside one of the many heartbreaking memories that never left me. When I caught a glimpse of another flash of light, I cringed, waiting for the boom, but it didn’t come. Strangely, this light seemed to sweep from side to side, and it came with a different sound…like a voice. Like a voice calling my name. It happened again, and I turned in a slow circle, trying to find the source of what was likely a hallucination induced by my continuous trembling.
But as the light moved closer, I called, “Here!” as loudly as I could. The voice came again, and I thought I could make out the shape of a figure. I yelled again, and the light swept toward me. I waved my arms, and in another few seconds, Beck’s face under her bright yellow slicker hood appeared out of the darkness.
She pulled me to her side, supporting me with her body and an arm around my waist. “Come on,” she yelled over the din of the storm. No foolish questions like What are you doing? or Where have you been? She kept her pace steady as we moved uphill, and before long, I could make out the shape of the Guest House looming in the night. It looked nearly as good as Beck had.
She stopped us inside the doorway. Propping me against the small washer-dryer, she quickly peeled off her slicker jacket and rain pants. “Take off everything. Everything,” she said. “I’ll get some towels and your pajamas.”
I fumbled with buttons until she came back. Teeth chattering, I stuttered, “I’m not having much luck here.”
“If I promise not to look, will you let me do it?” she asked with the slightest twinkle in her eyes.
“Look, don’t look.” I waved, well beyond such modesty. She didn’t…much. I used one towel to dry my torso while she worked on my arms and legs. Once I was in my pj’s and robe, she handed me another bath towel and directed me to start on my hair, but I was still shaking so hard I could barely hold it.
“How about a nice hot shower?” she asked, but I shook my head. I didn’t want anything involving water falling on me. “I was going to sit you down with some hot tea, but your lips are almost blue. I think I need to get you in bed.”
“You would say that,” I teased, imitating her remark from our shower when she’d been hurt, “now that I’ve been out in the weather.”
“If I’d known you were going out, I would have warned you,” she said, touching my face.
“Last-minute thing,” I said, not meeting her gaze.
She took my hand and led me to the bedroom without another word. Once I was tucked in, she went in search of blankets. I heard her muttering about needing to fix the non-functioning fireplace and something about “moth-eaten,” and then she appeared at my bedside again, laying the wrap from the couch on top of me. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” I said, though I couldn’t hide the quiver in my voice.
“Still cold, though,” she said, laying a hand on my forehead. “And here’s the thing, there’s not a decent heavy blanket in the house. I know this is a summer rental, but still…cool fronts like this come through sometimes, especially later in the season.”
If I was honest with myself, I knew what I wanted. I wanted her in bed with me. I wanted that solid warmth pressed against me.
“Emily?” she said softly. I’d closed my eyes, forcing myself not to ask. “If you wouldn’t mind, I could warm you up by, uh, you know…getting close to you, like before.”
“Yes.” I nodded without looking, but when she settled in next to me on top of the bedspread, the way she’d been last night, I shook my head and patted the bottom sheet. “Right next to me. Please.”
I turned to face away, but I suspected she heard me moan when her small round breasts pressed into my back. She wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me close, lining our bodies bend for bend and curve for curve. In no time, I felt safe, warmed, and totally reassured. Was this what heaven felt like? I drifted for a moment, my body thawing. The thought occurred to me that Beck had done the same thing to my emotions. I should have been worried, but I couldn’t seem to make myself care. Instead, my mind willingly supplied images of sleeping with Beck every night…naked…and I breathed slowly with the delightful sensation of caring and being cared for. How sweet it would be to…a distant throb began between my legs, and I quickly reined in my imagination. No, I definitely didn’t need to go there. I switched my thinking to Mel and how angry I was at her. After a few more minutes, I felt almost normal, so I decided to follow that line of thought.
Clearing my throat, I asked, “How did you know to come look for me?”
“I was about to go to bed, but your phone starting buzzing like crazy. I decided to take it into your bedroom to make sure you’d see the messages when you got home. It buzzed again while I was carrying it, and I glanced at the screen.” She sighed. “I know I shouldn’t have looked. It was none of my business, but it was someone asking if you’d made it home yet, in all caps. I figured it was one of your friends from Reefside, and I was worried. I used my phone to call the house phone there, and one of those guys answered. He seemed really upset when I told him you weren’t here, and I said I’d go look for you.” I started to sit up, thinking I should call and let them know I was safe, but Beck wrapped a warm hand around my arm. “He gave me his cell number, so when I was getting your pajamas, I texted to let him know you were safe. I said you’d call him tomorrow.” She paused for a few seconds. “I know I invaded your privacy, but I’m not sorry because if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have known you were in trouble.”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about the matter of my privacy, but Beck was nearly vibrating with apprehension. “Let’s talk about that tomorrow,” I said finally, turning to face her and moving onto one elbow. “But there is something else I want to tell you.” She leaned away slightly as if preparing for another of my terrible verbal onslaughts. I put a hand on her shoulder to steady her and leaned in, kissing her softly on the mouth. “I remember what you said about not kissing hello or good-bye, but that was a thank-you kiss. Thank you for caring enough to come look for me. All right?”
I couldn’t read the expression on her face, and when she didn’t answer, I began to second-guess myself. Why had I done that? And what did I mean by it? After a few more seconds she cleared her throat and turned over, her back to me.
“That’s the thing, Emily. Friends take care of each other.”
It was best she saw it that way, as only a friendly gesture. But I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or sorry. I lay down again, unconsciously spooning her as she had me. It felt just as wonderful this way, which was more than a little unsettling. When I stretched my arm across her middle, her breathing hitched.
“You do make it problematic for me to remain chivalrous sometimes.”
I started to laugh and make some sarcastic comeback, like “Is that what this is?” when it dawned on me: that was it, exactly. Beck was virtuous in a way that few people were today. Whether her code of conduct matched the medieval knights or not, she had one, and it guided her words and her deeds. Those beliefs were what made her dependable and generous and perhaps explained why I had this near compulsion to try to even the playing field for her since I lived in a world where very few people had or demonstrated those qualities. I felt like I had cracked some kind of cypher. “I don’t mean to be so…difficult,” I said slowly.
“I know,” Beck said, and patted my hand where it lay on her stomach. “Get some rest now.”
Oddly, as if obeying her command, I did.
* * *
I was just managing to breathe underwater, but someone was shaking me gently from behind. “Emily, I have to go soon. How are you feeling?”
Beck. Trying to answer, I took stock. Scratchy throat, stuffy nose, achy body. I thought about how chilled I’d gotten last night. Yep, I had gotten a cold. I coughed, and a hand rested on my forehead before steps hurried away. Then she was helping me sit up. “You need to take this, and I’ll get you some tea and toast.”
Pills were in my hand, and I looked over to see a glass of juice. “What…” I croaked, forcing myself to swallow.
“It’s aspirin. I think you have a low-grade fever. I’ll bring you some cold medicine later. Do you have a preference?”
“Anything that will knock me out. I feel like shit.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, stroking my hair.
“God, Beck, it’s not your fault. If it weren’t for you, I’d probably have pneumonia.” I closed my eyes again, surprised I could tolerate her contact. Usually when I was sick, the last thing I wanted was someone else around, especially someone who might touch me. It seemed none of my previous rules applied to Beck.
“Still, I’m sorry you feel bad.” She propped another pillow behind me. “I’ll be right back. Eat, then you can sleep some more.”
I’d barely settled in after a trip to the bathroom when she appeared with the pretty tray, putting it carefully on my lap before leaving me with a soft squeeze on my shoulder. The tea soothed my throat, and I managed to eat most of the toast as well.
“Would you like more of anything?” Beck seemed pleased when she returned. “I think mama will let me work a half day today, and I’ll go by the store on my way home. Text me if you think of anything special and especially if you start feeling worse. Should I call your friends and have them check on you?”
I shook my head. “I’ll call them if I need to. At the moment, I only want to sleep.”
“Good. That’s the best thing for you.”
I reached for her hand. “Maybe the next best thing.”
She blushed, the color adding to her allure. I closed my eyes again, unexpectedly struck with melancholy at how long it was going to take to get over her. And with that thought, I sneezed. “Sorry.”
“No more ‘sorry’ and no ‘thank yous.’ You take care of yourself till I get home, okay?”
I nodded, and after a moment, her footsteps faded away.
* * *
The next day passed in a blur. All I knew for sure was that any time I woke up, Beck was there. For a while, she was in bed with me. I’d woken myself snoring—and probably drooling—to discover I was wrapped around her, my head pillowed on her shoulder. Her arm was around me, making lazy patterns up and down my back. I wanted to pretend like I was still asleep so she wouldn’t stop, but my breathing must have changed because she shifted, and I could feel her looking at me.
“Oh,” I rasped, scrubbing a hand over my face. “You’re not working today?”
“I took the day off,” she said, putting aside her iPad. “Can I get you something?”
“Tea?” I asked, regretting it in the next second when she got out of bed. Cuddling the pillow where she’d been was not at all the same.
I was sipping the hot liquid, and Beck was still puttering in the kitchen when I heard the door open.
“Oh, hi.” It was Mel’s voice.
“Hi, Mel. Emily’s not feeling well. She caught a cold after being out in the rain the other night.” I grinned at the slightly accusatory tone in her voice.
“Bummer,” Mel said, typically unconcerned. “But I actually came to talk to you.”
“Oh.” I could tell Beck was nonplussed. “Can I get you something?” Mel must have declined because Beck said, “Would you like to sit down?”
Evidently, they did. I was glad Beck had left the door open, letting me hear most of what was being said.
“I hadn’t heard from you. Is there some problem with the contract I sent over?” Mel asked, forgoing any other niceties.
I held my breath. It wouldn’t be prudent for Beck to mention my name or use my concerns as an excuse. After a few seconds, Beck said, “You seem to be taking a pretty large percent. I’m not sure I’m getting my money’s worth.”
I would have given a lot to see Mel’s face. She tended to flush when she was questioned, and often what followed was something very close to rage. Could Beck stand up to it?
“Okay,” Mel said, obviously making an effect to stay calm, though I could hear the tension in her voice. “Let’s talk about that. What do you think would be fair?”
“I know I’m new to this, but I have every reason to think I’ll do well. A lot of people know me, and there are still lots of summer visitors here who have money. If we get enough publicity, I think we’ll have a good turnout. What I need your help with is the pricing. Do you have any ideas on that yet?”
If Beck was stalling, she was doing a hell of a job at it.
“Well, like I told you, I’m not doing anything more until we have a contract. At that point, I’ll make some calls to some art dealers I know, and I’ll do some online research as well. But amounts will vary by piece, depending on size and quality.”
It was quiet for a moment. Finally, Mel said, “Okay, I understand, my getting seventy percent seems like a lot. Seeing as how you’re a friend of Emily’s, I’m willing to go down to sixty-five.”
“Fifty-five,” Beck said, and I almost choked on my tea.
“Listen, kid. I don’t know what Emily told you about our deal, but—”
Beck cut her off. “She didn’t tell me anything about her personal business with you. If you know her as well as you say, you’d know that.”
I was so proud of Beck my toes were curling. And Mel must be purple by now.
“Now look—” she started, but Beck interrupted again.
“Sixty this time, but if we do better than one hundred thousand, you’ll drop it to fifty-five next time.”
I clapped my hands silently. Beck had maneuvered Mel over a barrel. If she said no, that meant she didn’t expect to do very well. If she said yes, Beck had the best deal of anyone Mel worked with, other than me.
“If you’ll bring over that change, I’ll sign it in front of you,” Beck added. “And we can start on pricing tomorrow.”
Holy shit. Pressure and a promise. I’d never heard or read of anyone negotiating better than that. It was quiet again for a long pause. “You’d better make me a hell of a lot of money, Spike,” Mel muttered.
I heard their footsteps going away. Beck said one other thing I couldn’t make out. The door closed hard, just short of slamming. I waited all of ten seconds before I called for her.
At my bedroom door, she ran a shaking hand through her hair. “That was Mel,” she said.
“I know. Come here.” I sat up and patted the bed. When she perched hesitantly beside me, I pulled her into my arms. “I am so proud of you. No one could have done better than you did.”
“You heard?” she asked, her voice muffled against my body.
“Yes, all of it except the last thing you said.”
“Oh, that.” Beck seemed embarrassed. “I reminded her of my name. ’Cause the thing is, she never uses it.” I laughed until I started to cough and reluctantly had to let her go. “Would you feel like coming to the table for dinner?” Beck asked. “It would do you good to move around if that cold is going to your chest.”
I nodded, still warmed by her triumph. I stayed awake through dinner, then apparently fell asleep on the couch while we were watching an American Experience program on my computer. I wasn’t aware that Beck had eased my head onto her lap, but the next thing I heard was Mel’s voice.
“What the hell?”
“Shh,” Beck said quietly. “Emily’s asleep.”
“Is that what you call it?”
Mel sounded increasingly upset. I tried to rouse myself, but Beck had placed her hand on my shoulder and held me gently in place.
“Did you bring the new contract?”
“Yeah, but I’d like to know what the hell you think you’re doing.” Mel’s voice sounded louder, and I wondered if she’d come closer. “Emily is much more to me than a client. So whatever shit you’re trying to pull, you can give it up right now.”
“I’m not pulling anything. And please keep your voice down.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, you fucking little creep.”
I could hear Mel’s fury building. Being challenged on money was bad enough, but she’d always needed to claim first place in our friendship. This wasn’t going to end well. I opened my eyes and pushed myself into a sitting position. “Mel, stop. I’m fine. I fell asleep is all.”
Mel stared at me, huffing out a breath. “It didn’t look fine. Do you realize this punk was pushing your face into her crotch?”
“I didn’t push,” Beck replied calmly. “When she first fell asleep, her neck was in an awkward position. I was making her comfortable.”
It might have sounded more feasible if Mel knew we’d slept together—literally slept—twice. But I wasn’t going to tell her. Not now. I stood. “I think I’ll go to bed. You two finish your business.”
After one step, I felt dizzy. When I stopped and stretched out a hand for balance, Beck was already beside me. “I’ll help you,” she said softly.
Mel stalked over. Standing in front of Beck, she pronounced, “I’ll help her. You sit your punk ass down on that couch.”
I felt Beck tense, but I was counting on her pacifist nature to not escalate the situation. “Thanks, Beck,” I squeezed her hand quickly and let go. “Mel will be right out.”
Once Mel had me settled on the bed, I grabbed her arm. “I want you to apologize to Beck. She’s been nothing but nice about me being sick.”
Mel scowled as she eased away from me. She’d never liked being around any kind of infirmity. “I don’t like the way that girl looks at you. She’s after something. You have to think of your artistic reputation. I don’t trust her.”
“Well, I do. And I want you two to work well together. Tell her you’re sorry for being overprotective. She’ll understand.”
“Hmm.”
“I mean it. Besides, you owe me.”
To her credit, Mel didn’t pretend like she didn’t know what I meant. “You got medicine and everything? I can send that doctor again.”
“No, I’ll be fine. And yes, I have everything I need.” I decided not to mention that Beck had bought three different cold formulas for me and refused payment.
“I’m going to check on you tomorrow,” she announced loudly, standing at the doorway. I knew this was for Beck’s benefit.
“Fine,” I said because I knew she meant well. Even though we sometimes drove each other crazy, she was my friend.
I didn’t even try to listen in to the murmur of conversation from the other room. I woke to a hand on my forehead.
“I think your fever is about gone,” a voice said.
“Beck?” I’d been dreaming of a wind that had taken my umbrella and was carrying it away down a New York street.
“Yes. Would you rather I called Mel back?”
“Not for a second.” I reached for her hand and held it to my chest. “You’re staying, aren’t you?” I could feel myself drifting off to sleep.
“For as long as you want me to,” she answered in her quiet way.
How wonderful would that be? I asked myself, pretending I didn’t know the answer.
* * *
I was finishing my tea and the breakfast quiche Beck had left for me when Mel arrived. She began complaining about Beck’s insistence that the sale would be next weekend. “I’m having to order a rush job on those posters, and that’s going to cost extra,” she groused. “Plus, I’ll have to spend this weekend posting them all over the coast.”
“I’m sure she just wants to get it over with,” I said. “Besides, she needs the space to work on her PAFA project.”
“Shit. I forgot to mention that on the poster.” Mel pulled out her phone and began a conversation with the print shop in town, her tone verging on offensive at times. I wanted to tug her sleeve or make a face, but I knew it wouldn’t help. I’d heard her dealing with other vendors and sales people before, and she could swing from charming to ill-mannered in a matter of seconds. That was simply how she worked. I realized I’d put much of that same behavior into my new character and cringed at the thought that I was like that too, only more so with the people I was close to. Or those who got too close to me.
As I often did, I let thoughts of work override any reformation I could apply to my own conduct. Instead, I considered that it had been a few days since I’d done anything on my new story. I felt like I might have an hour or two in me, so when Mel finished her call, I told her I needed to write.
“But remember, you’ve got friends here,” she said. “You don’t have to depend on your houseguest for everything.”
I nodded, figuring that was about as nice as she was going to get about Beck. “Thanks, Mel. You know I appreciate it. And be sure and thank June and the W’s too.”
An hour later, I’d read over my last few days’ work. It was so different from my usual style that I had to keep reminding myself that I’d written it. I couldn’t decide if that was good or bad and ultimately decided I’d let my editor figure it out.
* * *
Beck was a firm believer in the healing properties of menthol rub, which meant I spent every day slathered in it. At night, she made me wear socks to bed after putting some of the aromatic ointment on the bottoms of my feet, claiming it would help with my cough. I wondered how she could stand lying close to me, but she claimed to like the smell. That or time and regularly provided cups of the echinacea tea she’d bought seemed to do the trick, and by Wednesday, I was all but well. The problem was, the better I felt, the hornier I got, and sleeping next to her—even in pajamas and socks—was not helping. That evening, after I’d gotten ready for bed, I told her I’d be fine to go with her to campus tomorrow. Her brilliant smile faded at my next words. “And I think I’m okay to sleep alone again.”
“Oh.” She looked into my face, but I quickly became busy, fiddling with the tie to my robe.
“I can’t thank you enough for the comfort and care you’ve given me.” I was forcing every word, but I had to. I couldn’t let myself become accustomed to this, to her, to us. None of those things existed outside of this private dream world that the beach had become. “But I don’t want…uh, we shouldn’t, that is…I can’t…”
“It’s okay, Emily. You don’t have to explain.” She shrugged and turned away. “You’re the boss.”
That hurt, but I couldn’t think of a single fitting reply. The door to her room closed quietly.
* * *
I stirred, slowly becoming aware of Beck in bed with me, close and warm, holding me with that intoxicating combination of strength and femininity. I was so glad, I didn’t care how or why she’d come to be there. But an unexpected sound had awakened me, and I couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong. The bedroom door opened, and a figure stepped in. In a rush of panic, I shook Beck roughly, and she sat up.
“What?” she said, startled into speaking overly loud.
“I knew it.” It was Mel’s voice.
At least it wasn’t the man of my nightmares, though it certainly wasn’t the way I wanted Mel to find out about Beck and me. What there was of us. I sat up too. “It’s not what you think.”
“You know what I think? I think you didn’t give me what I wanted for my birthday.”
“Uh, okay. I mean, I’m sorry. What was it you wanted?”
She was next to the bed, though I hadn’t heard her move. But now I could smell the alcohol on her breath. “I wanted a three-way with you and June. But you know what? I’ll take on you and baby Spike here instead. Some butch-on-butch action might be an amusing change, once we’re through.”
I felt Beck rise and knew she was going in Mel’s direction. Quickly, I sat up. “Mel, I think you’ve had way too much to drink. Let’s go in the other room and talk about it.”
“Why don’t we talk about it here?” Her hand fondled my breast.
I gasped. “No, Mel.” We’d established that boundary a long time ago, and for her to cross it now, so unexpectedly, was even more creepy than it was shocking.
I saw Beck’s form engage with Mel, crowding between us and forcing Mel to step away from me. “Back off, Mel. Nothing like that is going to happen.” Her voice was grim and almost harsh.
Mel laughed, but it didn’t sound like any laugh I’d ever heard from her. It was maniacal. “That’s what you think, you sorry fucking asshole.”
I saw it. Mel had a weapon in her other hand. Like a bat but thicker. A club of some kind. Something metal. A piece of Beck’s work maybe? Before I could think beyond that, she swung it at Beck’s face, hitting her squarely on the jaw. I heard a terrible crack, and Beck staggered, holding her face as she landed hard against the wall.
“Mel, no. Stop!” I called, trying to get up, but she was beside me, pushing me back onto the bed. I was powerless, just as I’d been with the man who’d taken Abby.
“Why don’t you assume the position, and I’ll be right with you.” Mel leered.
Beck came forward again, reaching for the weapon, but it was like she moved in slow motion. Mel turned and swung, hitting her squarely on the side of the head. There was another sickening crack, and Beck went down and didn’t move. Was she even breathing?
“Let me finish this,” Mel said conversationally, “and then we’ll get started.” She raised the club again over Beck’s fallen shape.
“No,” I screamed. “Somebody help. Help me!” Mel started her downswing, and I kept screaming. “Beck, get up. Oh God, no. Please stop. Help!”
The door opened, and a figure stood on the threshold. “Emily? Did you call me?”
It was Beck. I inhaled sharply. The smell of alcohol had disappeared. Mel wasn’t here.
“Beck? Are you okay?” I rubbed my eyes. All the hideous sounds and sights had seemed so tangible, I was having trouble believing it was all a dream.
“Am I okay?” Beck asked, clearly puzzled. “I’m fine. Are you?”
“Come here, please. Come here and let me see you.” At that moment, needing the solid presence of her didn’t seem nearly as threatening as the possessive violence of my nightmare.
She walked to the side of my bed where Mel had stood. I didn’t like that. Beck and Mel were about as different as two people could be, and I was struck by the thought that they would always have distinctly separate places in my life. “Over here.” I patted the bed beside me. She went around and got on top of the covers. I didn’t care at this point. I touched her face, her hair. I ran my hands over her neck and down to her shoulders. “You’re really all right? You’re sure?”
She laughed quietly. “I’m sure, Emily.” Her voice sobered. “Did you have another bad dream?”
“Yeah, I…I guess so. It…it seemed so real.”
She reached out and smoothed my hair. “Sometimes the scariest ones are like that.”
I leaned in a bit, breathing in her scent. God, I could recreate everything about the serenity of this place by the way she smelled. Her touch was slowing my pulse, and my breathing was close to normal. “You have them too?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes I dream I’m aboard ship with my papa, and we’re caught in the storm where he died. The bell is making a terrible racket as the boat pitches and I know we’re going down. That’s the worst one.” I shivered at the very thought of a boat disaster dream. “Other times, I’m still in high school, having to talk in front of the class. I realize I didn’t do the assignment, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to be talking about.”
“Are you naked?”
“Now?”
I still had my hands on her arms, so I could feel her T-shirt. I tugged at it. “No, silly, in the dream.”
“Oh.” She sounded embarrassed, and I felt bad. “No, not in the dream either. Why?”
“Never mind.” I yawned. I didn’t want analysis or reasoning. I just wanted her exactly where she was. But she moved away enough to separate us.
“I should let you get back to sleep.”
“Could I…” Was I brave enough to ask this? “Could I exercise a woman’s prerogative and change my mind?”
“What are you going to exercise?”
Don’t be clever. Say what you want. “Could I ask you to stay?”
She shifted slightly. “Only for tonight?”
I owed her the truth, even if it meant risking her rejection. Somewhere, I found the fortitude to say, “I don’t know, Beck. I’m…I’m trying to find my way on this. I want you here tonight. I don’t know what I’ll want tomorrow.”
She didn’t answer right away, and I was fairly sure she’d go, telling me that wasn’t good enough. And I truly couldn’t blame her. Why should she put up with an inconsistent, bad-tempered, sometimes pitiful woman with a permanent stain on her past? Half of me wanted to admonish her to get the hell out, but when I felt her pull down the covers and ease in beside me, the other half was almost overwhelmed with relief.
“Could I please hold you for a little while?” I asked, and she put her head on my shoulder. My arms went naturally around her. Before it had always been her holding me. This was different, but I felt an enchanting sense of certainty when her arm slipped around my waist. It was part desire, but it was also part…perfection. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“Sleep, Emily,” she directed, and like before, I did.