“Having Daphne’s mother know about her daughter’s sexual orientation had to be a shock,” Chelsea said as she closed the diary.
“Shocking indeed.”
“Did you and Daphne ever talk anymore about her father?” Bailey asked.
“We never talked about his behavior that weekend. The only other time we spoke of him was when she told me he was in hospital four months later with a bad liver. Daphne never went to see him while he was there. Her mother visited once, I suppose to say her final goodbye. He died a week later.”
“Did she go back for the funeral?” Bailey asked.
“I wouldn’t say she went back for the funeral. She went back for her mother. I joined her, and not a tear was shed.”
“How was your relationship with Daphne when you returned to Los Angeles?”
Eleanor turned to Chelsea. “You mean, when did we make love again?”
“Yes.”
“The night we returned from Indiana.” Eleanor put her cup on the tray. “I think we’ll stop there and pick up again a few years later in the diary. What you read next will be very hard for me to hear again. I’d rather get a restful night’s sleep before that happens.” She rose from her chair. “Come back again tomorrow morning, but be prepared to stay longer. You can show yourselves out.”
Chelsea and Bailey watched her retreat down the hall.
“This next one will be the hardest,” Chelsea said as they walked to the front door. “I bet she has us reading about Daphne’s marriage.”
“I’m sure that’s it, too.” They got into the Jeep. “Where do you need to go?”
“I should head into the office for a few hours.”
“I guess I can give Joanne a call after jotting down today’s notes.”
Chelsea put her hand on Bailey’s thigh. “Why don’t we have a nice quiet dinner tonight at the house?”
“That sounds wonderful.”
* * *
Chelsea parked her car at Memorial Hall. She grabbed her briefcase from the backseat and shut the door. Keeping her head down, she stepped up the curb to the sidewalk and about jumped out of her skin. Rebecca stood right in front of her.
“Don’t scare me like that, Rebecca.” Chelsea walked toward the building.
Rebecca caught up with her. “How’ve you been, Chelsea? I haven’t seen you around the office lately.”
Chelsea opened the door. “I’m fine. I’ve been busy with the Eleanor Burnett project.” She started up the stairs. Like before, she set a brisk pace, hoping Rebecca would get the hint that she wasn’t interested in any further conversation.
“Hey, I have tickets tonight for Arsenic and Old Lace at the Auditorium. Would you like to come?”
“That’s nice, but I already have plans.” They arrived at Chelsea’s office. She unlocked the door and stepped inside, dismayed that Rebecca didn’t leave her. Chelsea powered up her computer and pulled her notes from her briefcase.
“Oh?” Rebecca leaned against the doorframe with her arms crossed.
Chelsea wasn’t going to offer more.
“With Bailey?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Hey, I’m sorry. I’ll let you go.” Rebecca huffed off.
Chelsea sat down and opened the document where she’d compiled her notes. She tried to decipher her own poor handwriting so she could add the new ones to the file but found it difficult to concentrate. She got up and shut the door in case Rebecca decided to return.
As she worked, her mind drifted to thoughts of Bailey. She pictured her with her head tilted toward the sun as they sat on the hill overlooking Lake Monroe. Chelsea leaned back in her chair and swiveled to face the window. The breeze rippled the leaves of the large oak tree, and she tried to remember when she’d last taken time to relax like that. To really relax and enjoy nature at its finest. A slow smile crept across her lips.
And enjoy Bailey at hers.
* * *
Bailey punched in Joanne’s number.
“Hello, Bailey. How goes things in the land of Hoosiers?”
Bailey held the cell phone against her shoulder as she typed up her latest thought before she lost it. “It goes well.”
“Oh? You’ve decided to stick it out?”
She hit Control S to save her work. “Chelsea and I are good.”
“That sounds interesting. Do tell.”
“We’re doing much better. We’ve talked some things out and… well…”
“Yes?”
“I’m staying here with her.”
“Whoa. You’re staying at her home?”
“It’s not what you think, Joanne. She thought it’d save you some money and—”
Joanne snorted on the other end of the line. “Right.” She drew out the word. “I think I might have heard that line from my first boyfriend when he suggested we move in together in college.”
“I won’t lie and tell you that we haven’t gotten close again. It’s weird. Reading this diary seems to have smoothed out so many rough things between us. But we’ve agreed to take it slow and talk things through.”
“Good for you—and for her. I hated that you two gave up so easily. It was difficult to watch.”
Bailey was a little surprised. Joanne had never expressed that much interest in her private life other than the little bit Bailey had shared. Her silence must have spurred Joanne to say more.
“I’m not a heartless ogre, Bailey. You’re not only a researcher to me. I consider you a friend.”
“Thanks, Joanne. I appreciate that.”
“Okay, on to our subject matter. One Ms. Eleanor Burnett. How has that been going?”
“Very well. I’m typing up several pages of notes tonight. I’ll e-mail them to you in a couple of hours.” She looked at the clock. “How about six my time, which would be four for you?”
“That’ll work.”
“Take it easy, Joanne. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“You take it easy, too. And good luck with Chelsea.”
“Thanks.” She ended the call, waited a few minutes, and gave her friend Tara a call.
“Yo, Hampton. I wondered when you’d check in.” Bailey at first thought she heard the TV in the background. A few giggles close to the phone let her know she was wrong. The sound became muffled, but Bailey heard Tara saying, “Nat, baby, give me a minute, okay?”
“Am I interrupting something? And where are you, by the way?” Bailey asked with a frown. “You’re not in my bed, are you?”
“N-no. I told you I wouldn’t do that.” Another muffled giggle. “Wait, Nat. Can you wait two minutes?”
“Don’t leave her waiting too long, Romeo.”
“You have my undivided attention. How are things in Bloomington?”
“Definitely interesting. Research is going well. Oh, and I’m staying with Chelsea now.”
A loud thud reverberated from the other end of the line.
“Jesus Christ, Tara!” a high-pitched voice screeched. “You didn’t have to throw me on the floor.”
“I’m sorry, Nat.” Bailey heard more fumbling. “Wait! Don’t go.” There was a slamming of what Bailey assumed was her door.
“There’s still glass in my front door, right?”
“Yes. Goddammit, Bailey, give me some warning before springing shit like that on me.”
“Now you know how I felt when Chelsea showed up on my first day of interviewing Eleanor Burnett.”
“And you didn’t call me until now?” Tara sounded hurt.
“Hey, I’m sorry, but I didn’t know if I was coming or going since I got here.”
“So, you’re staying with her?”
“I’m staying in the spare bedroom.”
“Oh, man, Bailey. Do I need to fly out there and give you pointers? You haven’t lost it this fast, have you?”
“I’m not here to bed Chelsea.” Not that the thought hadn’t crossed her mind. Damn. The way Chelsea looked in the morning…
“Hello? Are you listening to me?”
“Sorry, Tara. Did you ask me something?”
“Yeah. If there was some hope of the two of you patching everything up.”
Bailey hesitated.
“I’m sorry I asked.”
“No, no. It’s not that. I was thinking how I’d answer. Let’s just say we’re taking things slow. We’ve… um… kissed a couple of times. But we—”
“Wait. You’ve kissed? That’s fantastic!”
Bailey smiled at Tara’s enthusiasm. “I have to admit, it was nice.” Bailey recognized the creaking of her screen door on the other end as it opened and slammed shut.
“Nat, give me another minute.”
“You said two minutes five minutes ago,” Nat whined.
Bailey cringed. “God, Tara, how do you put up with that voice?”
“It ain’t the voice, my friend,” Tara said, low enough that Bailey was sure she was the only one who heard. “It’s that mouth.”
“I don’t need to know. Forget I asked. Listen, I’ll let you go and catch you later.”
“Call back with all the details. And don’t wait so long next time.”
“Have fun. And remember. Stay. Off. My. Bed.” She hung up the phone with the sound of Tara’s laughter in her ear.
* * *
Chelsea unlocked her front door. “Bailey, I’m sorry I’m so late,” she said in a loud voice. “I got caught up in my notes.”
Bailey walked around the corner of the hallway, her hair mussed up. Chelsea had seen this look before. When Bailey worked on her research, she would run her fingers through her hair while concentrating on what she was doing.
“Busy?” Chelsea asked, quirking her mouth up.
“Huh?”
Chelsea walked over to her and smoothed down her hair. “I seem to remember this.”
Bailey met her eyes.
“Uh.” Chelsea cleared her throat and took a step back. She walked to the kitchen. “What sounds good to you?” she asked with her back to the entryway. She opened up the pantry and debated what she’d throw together as she tried to slow down her uneven breathing.
“I don’t know. How about we order pizza?”
Chelsea jumped at the sound of Bailey’s voice close behind her, and she spun around. Bailey was leaning back against the counter.
“Sure. I’ll get the number off the fridge.” Chelsea walked past Bailey, a little too skittish to venture another glance her way. “If I remember right, you like pepperoni and black olives with extra cheese.” She grabbed the portable to dial the number.
“You remember correctly,” Bailey said and left the kitchen.
Chelsea placed the order and added breadsticks to the pizza. “Want something to drink?” she shouted.
“How about a Heineken?”
Chelsea grabbed two beers and walked back to the living room. Bailey was standing at her bookshelf, running her fingers along the spines.
“See anything that interests you?” Chelsea asked.
Bailey grinned. “Yeah, but it isn’t one of these books.”
Trying not to appear flustered, Chelsea handed her a bottle of Heineken and sat on the couch.
“I’m sorry, Chels. I bet you’re rethinking letting me stay here.” Bailey sat down next to her. She picked at the label of her bottle. “I keep making these comments.”
Chelsea touched her hand that fidgeted with the paper. “I’m flattered, so don’t apologize.” Bailey still wouldn’t look at her. “Hey, it’s okay.”
Bailey raised her head. They gazed at each other until Chelsea blinked and took a long drag of her beer.
“You all right, Chels?”
“You need to quit staring at me like that.”
Bailey laughed. She held up her hand when Chelsea glared at her. “I won’t apologize for how I look at you. You’re so damn beautiful. You always have been.”
Chelsea set her bottle on the coffee table. “How about we move on to safer ground and talk about something else? Were you able to reach Joanne?”
Bailey leaned over and set her bottle beside Chelsea’s. “Yeah. I told her it was going well and typed up my notes for the last couple of hours. I e-mailed them right before you walked through the door.”
Chelsea hated the absence of playfulness in Bailey’s voice and that she was responsible for cooling the sparks between them. But it was probably for the best. For the next thirty minutes, they discussed the most recent readings of Eleanor’s diary.
Bailey took a sip of her second beer. “How about you? How’d you do at your office? Get much done?”
“I did.”
“You don’t seem too pleased. Something happen?”
“Rebecca was there and—”
Bailey stiffened. “Do I need to talk to her?”
“No. Everything’s fine.”
“It doesn’t seem fine. Did she hit on you again?”
Chelsea debated lying, but thought better of it. “Kind of.”
“Either she did or she didn’t.”
Chelsea chuckled. “Wow, Bailey. Are you going all cavewoman on me?” She regretted her words when she saw Bailey’s hurt expression. “Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it. She asked me out again, and I turned her down. Then she asked if I was seeing you. I told her it was none of her business.”
“Good for you. Because it isn’t any of her business, and if I need to have a talk with her, I’d be more than happy to. She doesn’t seem capable of taking a hint. It’d be no problem if I—”
“Bailey, I’ve got it covered.”
“You’re sure?”
Chelsea suppressed a smile. “I’m sure. I’ll let you know, though, if she gets to be a problem. I’ve missed this. I always loved it when you were so protective.”
“You’re not just saying that?”
“No,” she whispered. She stared at Bailey’s mouth and then leaned forward. She meant to place a chaste kiss. But Bailey parted her lips, inviting Chelsea to make the next move. She slid her tongue inside, and Bailey claimed it with a hunger that almost melted Chelsea on the spot. She wasn’t aware that Bailey had pushed her prone onto the couch until she felt the cushion under her back. Their breasts pressed together. Chelsea moaned as her nipples hardened against the cotton of her blouse.
She wrenched her mouth away, grabbed Bailey’s hand, and moved it under her T-shirt. “Touch me,” she rasped. “God, Bailey, touch me.”
Bailey cupped her breast and rubbed her thumb across Chelsea’s nipple. She pressed her mouth into the pulse point of Chelsea’s neck.
“You make me so wet. Every time. It hasn’t changed.” Chelsea gasped as she turned her head to grant Bailey even more access. Her mind was spinning. Her blood pounded in her ears. At least that’s what she thought until the pounding became so loud that it sunk in someone was banging on her front door. “Honey. It’s the door.” Bailey wasn’t stopping. Chelsea put her hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back. Bailey looked at her in confusion. “The door?”
“Shit,” Bailey muttered as she sat up.
The rapping at the door became even louder. Chelsea rose and tried to smooth out her clothes. She hoped she didn’t look like Bailey had just kissed her senseless.
“Coming!” she shouted and winced at her choice of words. Bailey’s snickering didn’t help. She pointed at her before she opened the door. “Stop it.”
She paid the teenager for the pizza and gave him a five-dollar tip, sure her lightheadedness contributed to her generosity. She was about to ask Bailey if she wanted another beer, but she stopped when she saw Bailey’s troubled expression.
“What’s wrong?” Chelsea set the pizza box on the coffee table.
“Nothing.”
Chelsea sat down in the chair beside the couch, suddenly feeling a distance between them. “Please, Bailey. Tell me.”
Bailey scrubbed her hand over her face in obvious frustration. “I think maybe we got a little carried away. We said we’d go slow and…”
Her remark hit Chelsea like a bucket of ice water. Her next words rushed out of her mouth. “I get it. We’ll cool it. My fault.” She jumped to her feet. “Why don’t you enjoy the pizza? I’m going to bed to read over my notes.”
“Chelsea, wait.” Bailey stood up.
“I’ll see you in the morning.” Chelsea hurried to her bedroom and shut the door. She sank to the mattress and drummed her hands against her head. “Chelsea, how could you be so stupid?”
“Damn it.” Bailey walked to the bedroom door and tapped on it. “Chels, come on. Open the door.”
“I’m fine.” Her voice sounded strained. “Don’t let the pizza go to waste.”
Bailey held her palm against the door and stood there for a minute longer. She finally gave up and went back to the living room. She flipped the pizza box open. “Fine,” she said as she picked up a slice. “I hate that frigging word.”