Doublecrossed Part 22

"Done," Callie said, pleased that Regan knew how to ask for what she wanted.

They had a great time relaxing with the extended family and a few of the regulars who were dining there that evening. She'd been around these people for just hours, but they'd welcomed her like one of their own. It already felt like home. And it was only going to get better. Afterwards, when they were going to Regan's house, Callie said, "I'm beginning to see why you feel comfortable at the restaurant. It's nice to be able to go behind the bar and take what you want and make your own drinks."

"Yeah. I tried that at a couple other places and it doesn't go over too well. I also like to be able to go into the kitchen and make sure my sister makes my hamburger the way I like it. She under cooks it if I don't keep an eye on her."

"She's a wonderful cook. I should be her apprentice for a few months to learn some tricks."

"The dinner you made for me when you were staying with me was great. I don't think you need any help. I'm the one who's hopeless."

"Alana can cook for you in Scituate and I'll cook for you in Cambridge. You don't have to learn a thing."

The next morning they loaded all the stored boxes into a Scituate Inn van and drove them up to Cambridge. The entire endeavor was completed by two o'clock, and both women collapsed onto the sectional sofa that filled the living room. "Somebody should walk down to the liquor store and get some cold beer," Regan said.

"It would be nice. Maybe I could toss money down to somebody on the street and have them go."

"You could do that, but you wouldn't get any beer in the deal. This is Boston, not heaven."

Callie forced herself to her feet and raised her hands above her head to stretch for a few moments. "I can't complain about buying beer in exchange for a strong woman and a truck. Want anything special?"

"Surprise me. You know what I like."

"I do. You like lagers and ales and you'll drink a stout in a pinch, but only one. Your tastes are a lot like mine."

Regan smiled her most impish grin. "That's why I think you have good taste. Hurry up now, the mover is thirsty."

Callie had been in town less than a week when she called Regan to tell her some news. "I found a good running club here in Cambridge. I'm going for a five k run on Sunday morning at nine. Will you be there?"

"You don't even know where to order in a good pizza," Regan teased. "And you're already joining a club?"

"Yep. I want to run the marathon for my fortieth birthday, so I don't have a moment to waste."

"You've got over four years!"

"I know, but I want to increase my mileage slowly. Then, once I can run twenty-six miles, I need to do a couple of marathons to get my qualifying time. I only want to run one a year so..."

"It sounds like you've thought this out pretty carefully. If I follow your lead I can run one for my thirty-fifth."

"Don't rub your youth in. I'll do what I can to keep up with you with my decrepit self."

Regan laughed. "I don't think that'll be a problem with you. You're one determined cookie."

"So? Will you be here?"

"Sure will. Can I come on Sat.u.r.day?"

"You can come on Friday if you want. Then we'll have two nights to test out pizza places."

"Now that's my kind of thinking. Have pizza two nights in a row, then go running. It's a date."

In another week Callie had found a group of women who played pool on Thursday nights. And a few more days had her signing up for a monthly meeting of website developers and graphic artists.

That Friday night she walked into the Scituate Inn and was greeted by another new friend, an eighty-year-old man who had taken quite a s.h.i.+ne to her. "Callie!" Jerry McMullen called, hoisting a beer in her direction. "Let me buy you a beer."

She smiled and sat down next to him at the small bar. "How could I resist?" She nodded to the night bartender, Alex. "A short draft, please."

Alex slid the gla.s.s down the bar and she sat happily chatting with the elderly man for a few minutes. Regan poked her head out of the office and did a double take when she saw her. "How long have you been here?"

"One beer's worth," Jerry said. "We're just getting started."

Callie could tell from Regan's questioning expression that she was asking if Callie was comfortable. A short nod was the reply and Regan said, "We might as well have dinner, huh?"

"Works for me," Callie said. "Caesar salad with salmon, please."

"Done. Be right back."

"So how's Cambridge treating you, honey?" Jerry said. "All of those pointy heads driving you nuts yet?"

"Not yet." She knew she could live in Cambridge for the rest of her life and be completely happy... as long as Regan was near.

They left the restaurant at around nine, and Callie could tell that Regan wasn't herself. Deciding to give her a little while to decompress after a long day at work, she didn't speak much on the way to the townhouse. But after Callie stored her overnight bag in the guest bedroom, she found Regan wandering around the apartment, looking like she was either thinking or blowing off some nervous energy.

"How about a walk?" Callie asked.

"A walk?" Regan's response was almost rote. It was as though she hadn't fully understood the question.

"Do you need some time alone?"

That seemed to snap her out of her fugue and she nodded. "No, I changed my mind. A walk would be good."

"Sure?"

"Yeah. It might help to get something off my chest."

They left the apartment and walked in silence down to the harbor. It was fully dark now and the only sounds were the muted thump of rubber fenders protecting boats from the docks, the lapping of the water at the hulls, and a few distant horns. There wasn't another person in sight, and after they started to walk along one of the piers, Regan let out a heavy sigh. She threw her head back and took in a deep breath, then said, "Angela called me today."

"Oh." Callie didn't need to say more. It was clear the call had upset Regan, so it was a waste of energy to ask her to restate the obvious.

"It really took me by surprise, oddly enough. I guess... I guess I underestimated her perseverance."

"You don't get her job without having a lot of that."

"True. But she's not the kind of woman to risk humiliation. Coming back after the last time really took a lot for her." She gazed at Callie. "I respect her for that."

Callie's heartbeat started to quicken. A nagging fear she'd been consciously ignoring made her stomach flip. Angela was a woman Regan had dearly loved, and if she wanted her back that was how it had to be. That's what true friends did, and no matter what, being a good friend had to be paramount.

Luckily, the next words out of Regan's mouth put her mind at ease. "It hurt to tell her no again, but it didn't hurt as much as last time." She gave Callie a sad, lopsided smile. "Practice pays off."

"Aww." Callie put her hand around Regan's arm and they walked closely together, slowly making their way up and down every dock. A speeding bullet-dodged. Angela's bad fortune was cause for a guilty, silent celebration. "How are you feeling now?"

"Okay. Kinda." They walked a few more steps. "Sad. Really sad."

Callie held her arm more tightly while they strolled along at a slow pace. "I'm happy to listen to anything you want to say. But if you want quiet, you've got it."

"Thanks." Regan disentangled and slung her arm around Callie's shoulders. Just as she did every time this happened, Callie took in a breath, hoping to catch just a bit of Regan's scent. It reminded her of a dusky red rose that grew in a yard near her apartment, and she a.s.sumed it was from a lotion or powder or some product she used. But she secretly hoped that Regan just naturally smelled like a beautiful flower.

They walked for at least half an hour, with Callie listening to the quiet sounds of the water and the occasional metallic clink from rigging hitting a mast or the groan of a tightening line. Regan broke the quiet. "Sit down with me?"

"Sure." They went out to the jetty, a long, built-up profusion of rocks that stretched out into the water. It was wide enough to walk on, and now, at low tide, it was safe to sit and dangle their feet in the cool water.

Once they were settled, Regan said, "There's a feeling I've been fighting."

"Fighting? That sounds serious."

"It is, kinda. It's the feeling that Angela really might be able to make some of the changes I wanted her to make."

"Uhm, what's there to fight about?" Her heart started to beat wildly again.

Regan was looking out at the water, her eyes focused beyond the horizon. "Even if she can, I don't want to give her another chance."

She said this with such cold detachment that Callie strangely felt sorry for Angela. But then Regan looked at her and Callie could see the sorrow in her eyes. "Does that make me coldhearted?"

"No, of course not." Callie put her hand on Regan's bare thigh, tamping down her desire to squeeze the solid muscles she'd developed from running. "She broke your trust. It's perfectly understandable that you don't want to give her another chance to hurt you again."

"It's not that," Regan said immediately. "Mostly."

Callie sat, poised, waiting for more.

"It's partly about s.e.x."

"Go on."

"Even when we were having s.e.x pretty often...like in the first year...it was never quite right." She grew quiet again, and her gaze returned to the void.

Callie wasn't about to start peppering her with questions, so she started to gently pat Regan's leg, settling into a soothing cadence.

After a few minutes, Regan seemed to open up and she talked with renewed energy. "We were too much alike. That's the problem in as few words as possible."

"Too alike how?"

"We both like to be in control." She grinned shyly and her hooded eyes showed she was embarra.s.sed. "Know what I mean?"

"Yeah, of course. I'm the opposite. I'm the rabbit, always looking for a cute fox to catch me." She leaned against Regan and they both laughed.

"I'm naturally the fox. But I can adapt if I'm with someone who also likes to chase. But Angela didn't have one bit of rabbit in her. Not even one of those cute little whiskers."

"Ooo. And that made you always be the bunny."

"Yeah. And that would have been okay if it was only our s.e.x life that was like that. But it was a lot more. She wanted me to be the rabbit all of the time, in every part of our lives. She wanted to pay for me, to keep our checkbook, to make our social plans, to make a decision to refinance the house... without telling me," she grumbled, obviously still miffed about that decision. "She wanted me to be her wife. The kind of wife my grandmother is to my grandfather."

Callie looked at her, letting her eyes wander from her strong features and set jaw down to her square shoulders, wiry, muscled arms and strong legs. "You don't seem like that type to me. At all."

"I'm not. I never was. I never will be. It was a low-grade struggle that went on in the background. She'd do something and I'd push back. We didn't actually fight very often, but it was always there, buzzing in the distance. I had to fight for every bit of autonomy I had, and frankly, it was tiring."

"I wonder..." Callie closed her mouth quickly. "Never mind."

"What?" Regan leaned against her.

"I was wondering how Marina and Angela...did it. They both have to be in control. Maybe that's why Marina claimed she wasn't into her."

"Ugh! I hate to think of them together. And not just because of the cheating. Thinking of Angela with another woman drives me crazy."

"Never mind." Callie put a hand on her leg and rubbed it quickly.

"No, you've got me thinking about it now. It's lodged inside." She slapped the side of her head as though she could knock the thought out. "Marina was never pa.s.sive?"

"Noo." Callie laughed. "That's not in her repertory."

"You've got me. Maybe Angela was..." She stopped and thought for a few moments, then shook her head. "Nope. I can't see it."

"I wouldn't have believed that Marina could fake it, but she must have. Angela wouldn't have come back for more if Marina didn't put on an act."

"She sounds like a real winner."

That hurt. There was something so derisive about the comment and her tone that she allowed the words to get in for the first time. No matter how she might tear Marina down, she'd chosen her and having Regan talk about her so disparagingly cut too close to the core. She didn't want to hear another dig so she changed the topic. "Do you think your need for autonomy is the real reason you won't give her another chance?"

"It's all wrapped up together. Even if Angela could let go of her need to be in control, it would never be the real her. It's an elemental part of her personality. I guess I don't believe a tiger can change her spots. She'd be faking it."

"Probably. But if the behavior is what you want..."

"I don't want a girlfriend who's letting me chase her. I want things to be spontaneous. It would take so much effort for her to be the rabbit that we'd never be able to just be ourselves."

"The negotiating would wear me out." She leaned on Regan again and whispered, "It's much easier to find a girlfriend who wants to boss you around than it is to find one who wants to share equally. Luckily, I don't mind a bit if my lover wants to make the decisions. If she wants to do all the work, I can relax and do my own thing."

"That's what I need," Regan said longingly. She jerked noticeably, and Callie felt her muscles tighten. "I mean, you know... when I'm ready... later on... after I..." She looked at Callie with a pleading look in her eyes.

"I get that. Some day...waaaaay in the future." She held her hand out over her eyes, as though she were trying to see across the ocean. "Weeks or months or years or decades from now, you'd like a relations.h.i.+p where you can be yourself. Right?" She smiled at her, trying to look as non-threatening as possible.

Regan leaned heavily against her and let out a sigh of relief. "Yeah. That's exactly right. Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

"I won't," Regan said, then started to giggle, sounding more girlish than Callie had ever heard her.

Chapter Twenty.