Nesting Page 6

  “Back then, it was like you and Dori lived in your own little world,” Kenny said.

  Macy blushed. One hero—“stony faced” according to the literary account—carried the beauty to the safety of the beach after she was felled by a sea urchin. Dori usually got to be the beauty because she had breasts first, but Macy didn’t mind because she got to hover over Dori, attempting resuscitation. Macy would place a hand over her mouth, and through that barrier, she, being the brave hero, kissed the beautiful woman. Later, they jokingly called that story their Stony-faced Sea Urchin.

  Macy was amazed that she’d kept the memories of playing “hero” at bay for so long.

  “Yeah, you and Dori were such good friends before we messed it all up.”

  “She and I had been drifting apart before you and I had our thing.”

  “But nothing too serious,” Kenny said. “I mean, I know y’all didn’t hang out as much after you and Jack hooked up, but it always happens that way with girls, don’t it?”

  “I guess.”

  But things like the comic books don’t always happen, she mused. She and Dori started acting them out when they were nine. They did a lot at first, then not so much, but always seemed to go back to it. Then Dori had confided she always envisioned Jack as her hero, and Macy had bristled with jealousy.

  Even after role-playing dwindled to an end, they still shared private jokes about the magazines. But when Macy started dating Jack, all references to them ended.

  Not long after that, Dorianne started spending a lot of time with Kenny. The closer Dori got to him, the further Macy let things go with Jack. She only had sex with Jack after she heard whispers that Dori and Kenny were doing it.

  “You do know that me and Dori were broke up when—well, when you and me fooled around? I didn’t cheat on her. I ain’t never cheated on her.”

  “I know.”

  “I never did find out what you and Jack had fought about that night.”

  “It was something so stupid that I don’t even remember it now,” Macy said.

  But she did remember Jack’s anger when he saw her with Kenny. After Macy and Kenny had slept together, they went out for a bite to eat. They sat in Macy’s car in the parking lot of the Dairy Queen, sorting through their burgers and shakes. Jack and two of his jock friends walked up. He tapped on her window, and she reluctantly rolled it down a few inches.

  “One little fight,” Jack hollered, “and this is what I get? Look at you. You got that fresh-fucked look. What a slut.”

  The memory made Macy cringe.

  Kenny laughed. “Jack was madder than hell when he saw us out that night.”

  Macy remembered the muscles around Jack’s jaws tightening under his smooth skin.

  “And the look on your face when he started walking to my side of your car,” Kenny said.

  Jack had gotten halfway to Kenny when Kenny opened the car door. Macy wasn’t about to let them fight, so she put her old Ford into reverse and stepped on the gas. The force of it made Kenny’s door swing open wide, and he lurched forward and smacked his head on the dash. Just as he tried to straighten up, Macy gunned the car forward. The motion threw him back against the seat and slammed the door shut, almost catching him and Jack in it. They both yelled “shit” at the same time, and Macy remembered thinking about it being in stereo.

  Macy looked at Kenny as he shifted in the hospital chair. Her cheeks grew warm, and she tried for a sheepish grin. “You got so mad at me that night.”

  “It looked like I was running from Jack, and damn it, I’d been waiting for a real reason to stand up to him ever since that time in the seventh grade when he nailed me in the face with the ball during smear-the-queer.”

  In Kenny’s breathless sentence, Macy could feel years of one cousin living in the long shadow of another. She knew there was more to what had happened than one night of sex between him and his cousin’s girlfriend.

  “The ball hit me so hard, it made my eyes water, but not no crying tears like Jack swore they were. He teased me about that for years.”

  Macy saw now that for Kenny, that night in the Dairy Queen parking lot was about taking a stand, about challenging a lifetime of always being second to Jack.

  Understanding that made Macy question her own motivation for what had happened that night. For years she refused to consider why she slept with Kenny, why she always felt betrayed by Dorianne when she was the one who’d messed up. And now, after kissing Emma and liking it way too much, she started putting things into perspective. She was finally seeing things about herself that she hadn’t ever allowed herself to think about. And it scared the hell out of her.

  “Even if Dori won’t never appreciate you being here today, I sure do,” Kenny said.

  “I’m glad I could be here. You and Dorianne are terrific people. I’m sorry I made it impossible to have you both in my life.”

  At first the lack of closure had overwhelmed Macy, creating a restlessness she couldn’t quite contain. But, paralyzed by guilt, she hadn’t been able to do anything about it.

  “Kenny, are we okay?”

  “I can say you and me are cool, but I gotta tell you, Dori ain’t never gonna be your friend.”

  “I just want her not to hate me, to forgive me.”

  Kenny started to say something, but a nurse came in and told him he could see Dorianne. He was following her through a door, being reassured that the surgery had gone well, when he turned toward Macy and mouthed “thank you” before disappearing to be with his wife.

  Macy sighed. She’d have to be content with fifty-percent closure on that front. She left the waiting room and headed toward Michael, toward a relationship she hadn’t screwed up yet.

  Chapter Eight

  Tilt-A-Whirl

  The woman pulling over in the dusty Cavalier looked safer than any of her other rides, but something felt wrong when Cam peered through the smudged passenger window. Still, she opened the door and folded herself into the car.

  “Get in, darling. You’ll have to excuse the mess. Just push that to the side. That’s my daughter’s, Olivia Dawn’s. I try to get her to keep her stuff in the backseat, but hell, you try telling a seven-year-old to do anything.”

  Cam smiled, grateful for the empty juice boxes instead of snuff tins.

  “Hi, I’m Grace.” She reached over to shake Cam’s hand.

  “I’m Cam.”

  She looked Cam over thoroughly. Cam waited for the recognition that she was a girl, but Grace just smiled.

  Cam reached for the seatbelt, thankful to have access to one again, and secured it.

  “Where you headed? You planning to camp out on Washington Road for Masters tickets?”

  “What’s a Masters ticket?” Cam asked.

  “The Masters is only the golf tournament of all golf tournaments. I’m not a huge fan of the game myself, but the Augusta National is absolutely gorgeous.” Grace sighed. “Ah, when the azaleas bloom.”

  Cam looked behind them as Grace stopped talking and whipped her Cavalier out onto the road.

  “Where’d you say you’re headed?”

  Cam smoothed the scrap of paper against her leg and read the address aloud.

  “Oh, yeah, I know that neighborhood. That’s where my doc lives. Doc and I dated, but it didn’t work out, and that’s a shame, because he would have made a great daddy for Olivia Dawn.”

  Cam stared at the address. She wanted nothing more than to hurry up and get there.

  “Whose address did you say that was?”

  “My aunt’s.”

  “Well then, let’s get you to your aunt’s.”

  Grace turned left, zigzagged past several auto shops, and made another left. “You would not believe how bad the traffic gets during the tournament. It quadruples at the very least. But there is an upside. I can bartend and make more that week than the whole rest of the year at the bookstore.”

  Half a block later, she turned right onto Greene Street, and the sight floored Cam. Bright pi
nk flowers smothered bush after bush. The splotchy sun, finding its way through the canopies of huge trees, made the color glow. She knew immediately that this was the Augusta that Aunt Jess had fallen in love with.

  Grace kept talking about the tournament and money, and Cam’s mind drifted. She looked up at the trees. They lined both sides of the road and met in the middle, where their branches barely brushed overhead. Cam thought of the painting on the ceiling of a cathedral in Rome. She couldn’t remember what it was called, but she remembered the image from her art history book where God and Adam were reaching out toward each other but not quite touching.

  By the end of the next block, the trees had begun clasping hands.

  “It’s about time.”

  “Excuse me?” Cam was jolted back into the discussion.

  “Finally the weather’s cooperating, and the azaleas are blooming right on time. The last couple of years, it’s been downright cold for the Masters.”

  The traffic light turned red, and a gate came down. Cam heard a train whistle.

  “No telling how long this will take.” Grace sighed and shoved the gearshift into park.

  As the train came into view, the back of Cam’s head started throbbing.

  “Oh, no,” Grace said.

  Cam looked up and saw that the train stretched out in front of them wasn’t moving.

  “Oh well, such is life.” Grace reached over Cam’s legs and started rooting through the glove box. Pulling out a photo in one hand, she let the other rest on Cam’s leg. “This is my child, Olivia Dawn.”

  “She’s precious.” Cam knew all kids were, especially to their parents. Well, maybe not Cam in her mom’s eyes, but she wasn’t going there.

  “Too bad her daddy’s a deadbeat, but he does come around to see his daughter. I have to give him credit for that.”

  Grace looked at Cam but didn’t wait for her to respond before she started in again. “I didn’t know my daddy when I was growing up. Matter of fact, I just found out he’s a drunk roofer from right here in town, not a banker from Atlanta like I thought.” She paused. “Wow, that’s the first time I’ve said that out loud.” Her voice caught briefly, and she looked away.

  “That’s got to be tough.”

  “Was I devastated? Yes. Surprised? Not really. As a kid I often overheard the speculation. That can really hurt a child, you know.”

  Cam nodded, the only contribution she was comfortable making.

  “Anyway, this roofer died years ago, so it’s not like I’ll ever have to meet him or anything.”

  Cam considered the lack of a male presence in her own life as she grew up. The only decent men active in her life were Coach Barnes, the track coach, and Mr. Moore, her English teacher.

  “Hey, since they’re neighbors, I wonder if your aunt knows my doc. What’s her name?”

  “Jess Almond.”

  Grace’s mouth opened a little wider. “Jess. As in Jess and Sharon?”

  “Sharon?”

  “Your aunt’s girlfriend, or lover, or whatever the hell is PC these days. I’ll tell you what—I like your aunt just fine, but not that other one. She is so uptight. One night my doc and I went on a double date with them. I hadn’t met them up to that point. Matter of fact, I assumed we were going out with a man named Jess and his wife. Was I ever surprised. Anyway, I ask one little question, and that Sharon gets all pissed off.”

  Sharon? The same friend Aunt Jess had all those years ago?

  Grace went on. “I asked them who was the husband and who was the wife. Jess told me neither, that they were partners. So I said if there’s no husband, who changes the light bulbs and mows the grass?” Grace shrugged. “Later, I felt like things were going well enough to get a little personal, so I asked Jess if she’d at least ever tried it. She was like, ‘Tried what?’ ‘Tried it,’ I said. That’s when Sharon butted in with something like, ‘Give me a break.’ And then she changed the subject, and I was like, ‘Well, screw you, too.’”

  The pounding moved up the back of Cam’s head and wrapped around her forehead. She couldn’t stop thinking about calling Aunt Jess a dyke when lashing out at her years earlier. Back then, she didn’t really know what it meant and surely didn’t know how it applied to herself, but she knew enough to use the word as a weapon.

  Cam stared ahead, and as the last car of the train passed, she could again see the road in front of them, the trees, the new green of the grass. It was all much too bright.

  Grace gave her a pouty smile. “It’s so difficult being a single mother. Mothers have to work so hard, and when we don’t get any help, well, we have to do what we have to do.”

  Cam nodded, pretending to understand more than she did.

  “With Olivia Dawn’s curls and sweet blue eyes, I just can’t be too careful, you know?”

  Grace put her car in gear and moved forward through the intersection. She pulled over and parked at the curb in front of a plain, brick building.

  “I have no choice but to put Olivia Dawn in the most affordable daycare I can find. I don’t like it, but I have no choice. It would be so much easier if I had some peace of mind, if I only knew for sure she is safe there.”

  Cam looked at the neat rows of brick that made up the Georgia Department of Labor beside them. “Why did we stop here?”

  “To discuss what I need you to do for me.”

  “I really need to go see Aunt Jess.”

  “This won’t take but a few minutes. Besides, I know a shortcut that will more than make up for the time.”

  “Grace, I—”

  “Look, Cam, this time of day, Jess probably won’t be home anyway.” She took Cam’s hand in hers, ran a painted fingernail across Cam’s sweaty palm. “You have all day, and this will only take a few minutes. I’ll make it up to you.”

  Not liking the vibe she was picking up, Cam yanked her hand away. “I’m not like that.”

  “You’re not gay like your aunt?”

  “I am gay, but this is not my style.” Cam tried to make an expansive gesture with her hands, unable to tell this stranger how screwed up the last couple of days had been, how panicked she was becoming, how much she just needed to get to Aunt Jess.

  “I’m talking about ten minutes of your time. That could sure help me sleep better at night. I worry so much. One day you’ll have kids—okay, or not—but try to understand. I really need to know that she’s safe there. I need to know that someone couldn’t just walk out of that daycare with my little girl.”

  Before Cam knew it, she’d agreed to Grace’s crazy plan. Anything to get things headed back toward Aunt Jess.

  Grace pulled around the corner from the converted house with the white vinyl siding. The muffled sounds of children at play drifted from behind the stockade fence enclosing the yard. Cam took a deep breath and glanced back once as she walked away from Grace’s car.

  Cam went in and tentatively approached the young, bleached-blonde woman at the front desk. “Excuse me. I’m Olivia’s aunt. My sister asked me to pick her up and take her home.”

  “I see. Let me just check Olivia’s file.”

  Cam tried to stay calm by concentrating on the teddy bear wallpaper.

  “I’m sorry, our records don’t list an aunt for Olivia. Do you have ID on you?”

  “Oh, that. I left it at home. Sorry.” Crap. “Listen, my sister is a hard-working single mother, and she’s overwhelmed right now and just asked for this one tiny favor, for me to help her out by picking up Olivia Dawn. Would you begrudge a poor woman that little bit of help?”

  Cam didn’t have a clue where that had come from, and it left her feeling more than a little uncomfortable, but she was impressed by her own fast thinking.

  The young woman must not have been as impressed, because she was on the phone talking to the director and Cam was pretty sure she heard something about the police.

  Cam bolted.

  She ran around the corner and found that Grace’s car was no longer there. She thought about her duffle,
left behind in a stranger’s vehicle. Damn it. She needed to keep running, until she passed out or the cops caught up to her. Two blocks and a major case of shin splints later, she almost got hit when Grace pulled from behind a big 4x4.

  Cam jumped in, panting, “She’s calling the police.”

  “Thank God.” Grace accelerated.

  “I’ll be arrested for attempted kidnapping. They’ll register me as a sex offender, and all you can say is ‘Thank God’?”

  “Now I know my child is safe there. That’s what counts. Don’t worry, they’ll never see you again. It won’t matter.”

  “Aunt Jess will shoot me if she ever finds out about this.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. Your aunt won’t care. She’s got other stuff on her mind.”

  “What other stuff?” Cam rubbed her right shin.

  “Well, like the chemo. I imagine when you’re going through that, you couldn’t care less what favors your niece does, or has done for her.” Grace winked.

  “Chemo?”

  “Oh, yeah. I hadn’t gotten around to the part about the cancer.”

  “Cancer?”

  “I’m sure she’s fine now. It’s been awhile, but the last time I talked to my doc, he said she was doing much better.”

  “You couldn’t wait to tell me she’s a lesbian, but this you forgot to tell me?”

  Grace made an oops face.

  “Christ, Grace.” Cam pulled her duffle bag into her lap. “Just take me there, please.”

  “Okay, okay, we’ll be there in no time.”

  Cam sat back and tried to visualize her aunt. She hoped Jess hadn’t lost too much weight from the chemo; she’d always been on the thin side as it was.

  Grace tapped on her steering wheel as they sat through a red light. “Hey, sorry for not telling you about the cancer. But I’m not sorry about asking you to go into the daycare. I had to know what would happen.”

  Cam closed her eyes. Her headache eased as she thought about Aunt Jess being pleased with her for reading between the lines, for knowing she wanted Cam to come see her without Jess having to actually say it.