From the Hat Down, page 30
Meg made the decision for her. She shoved her phone into her pocket and slid her arms around Gina’s neck and pulled her close. She knew tears filled her eyes, but she didn’t care, didn’t care about all the other people who might be staring, didn’t care about anything except how it felt to have her arms around Gina and to complete a connection that had gone too long undone.
“Oh, my God,” Gina whispered near her ear. “It is so good to see you.” Her arms tightened around Meg. “You have no idea.”
“I think I do,” Meg said against her neck and then she remembered Gina’s injuries and stiffened. “Oh, shit, your ribs.” She loosened her hold and started to pull away but Gina wouldn’t let her.
“They’re fine. Maybe even instantly healed. Okay, not really, but for now, they’re fine.” She pulled Meg close again and Meg held on for a while longer, listening to Gina breathe, feeling the warmth of her bare arms and the solidity of her back beneath her hands. She inhaled Gina’s scent, a mixture of citrus and an elusive edge of cinnamon. A clean, crisp smell, at once achingly familiar but completely new. She pressed her cheek against Gina’s and she didn’t know if the tears she felt there were hers or Gina’s or both.
She pulled back a little so she could see Gina’s face. A half-inch long new scar bisected her left eyebrow and her hair had started to grow back over the longer scar on the left side of her head, another reminder of what had happened. A little bit of gray marked a spot above her right ear. Meg touched it then gently wiped a tear off Gina’s cheek, both intimate gestures, and it surprised her, how natural it felt for her to do it, and how natural it was that Gina let her.
“You look so good,” Gina said. “I mean, I have your photo to go on, but nothing measures up to the real thing.” She touched Meg’s face.
“I’m going to say the same about you and that video you sent.” Meg wiped her own eyes.
“I had a different hairstyle then. It included more hair.” Gina motioned at the shorter patch on her head and her smile was the one she’d shown when they first met.
Meg smiled back and got caught once again in Gina’s eyes, in their mystery and warmth, and the way they fastened the past to the present and hinted at things yet to come.
“I have so missed you,” Gina said after a few delicious moments. “And I am feeling really overwhelmed right now. I don’t even know what to say.”
“Nothing right now.” Meg pulled her into another hug and closed her eyes, letting emotions and memories stampede through her heart.
“Okay,” Gina said after another few minutes, “As much as I don’t ever want to let go of you, and before we get arrested for excessive displays of affection, I wanted to run something by you.” She pulled away but kept her hands on Meg’s hips, and Meg swore she could feel their heat through her jeans, and it conjured images of far more intimate activities.
“And then we can get arrested?” Meg teased, marveling at the effect Gina had on her still, after all this time.
“Sure, if you want. But I was thinking you might want dinner instead. Keep your strength up and all.” She quirked an eyebrow playfully, like she’d been reading Meg’s thoughts.
Meg cleared her throat, trying not to think about what she might need to keep her strength up for, and reluctantly stepped away so she could retrieve her backpack and satchel. “Probably a good idea. So what’s the plan?” She slung her backpack over her shoulder.
“We have another option for your stay here. Kind of a last-minute cool thing. As we’ve already discussed, we can base at my apartment and you can either stay there with me or at a hotel or we can stay at a bungalow down in Long Beach right across the street from the beach. A friend of mine owns it. It’s a vacation rental, and it’s got two bedrooms. I thought that might be a good idea. Neutral territory for both of us.” She stopped and regarded Meg. “I don’t want you to feel pressured about anything. I don’t want me to feel that way, either. I just really want to spend time with you, and I want to make sure that we’re both comfortable with however that works out. So whatever you want to do, I’ll be fine with.”
“Let’s go with the Long Beach option. Since I recall suggesting that maybe you need a vacation.”
Gina nodded, as if pondering. “Why, yes. Yes, you did. Long Beach it is. Since I’m merely trying to follow doctor’s orders.” She grinned and Meg fell, again, into her eyes.
She wrenched her gaze away before she was arrested for excessive staring. “Good. The doctor approves of your decision.”
“So I hope. Can I carry anything?” She gestured at Meg’s satchel.
“No. Save your strength for L.A. driving.”
Gina flashed her another smile and started walking. “C’mon, Cowgirl. It’s about twenty-five miles to where we need to go. And once we get there, I figured you’d want to settle in. While you’re doing that, I’ll go grab us dinner. What are you in the mood for?”
An image of Gina slowly taking her T-shirt off lodged in Meg’s mind. “Your call,” she managed, embarrassed that she’d been thinking that, though it came with guilty pleasure.
“All right.” She reached over and took Meg’s free hand, and interlaced their fingers as they walked. A simple gesture, but it encompassed everything Meg felt. Excitement, nervousness, and complete security. Like the first time Gina had held her hand, that first night they’d spent together in Wyoming. She squeezed gently, and Gina squeezed back and smiled at her as they walked to the parking structure.
Chapter 29
Evening had wended its way into nightfall by the time Meg took her clothes out of her backpack and put them in the bureau in one of the bedrooms. She was only here for three nights, but she preferred to unpack when travelling because it was easier for her to find things. She had showered and put on a pair of loose athletic shorts and a University of Wyoming tee, and she realized, then, how tired she was, but also how relaxed.
She’d already explored the bungalow, a one-story Craftsman whose floors had been redone in warm Saltillo tile broken up with thick area rugs. The owner had given it a nautical theme, so the predominant color scheme was soft greens, yellows, and blues and the decorations included jars of shells set strategically on sturdy bookshelves and end tables that had been constructed to look “weathered.”
She liked it, and thought about coming again, when they had more time—she stopped herself. She’d only been in Gina’s company for a couple of hours, and here she was planning future visits. Better rein that in a bit. But she liked how it felt, to think about that. Liked how the air was charged with anticipation and familiarity. She went into the kitchen, which included a breakfast bar area that looked through a picture window onto a private back patio that featured a palm tree along the back fence. Both bedrooms were in the back of the house, across from each other and separated by a narrow hallway that ended at the bathroom. Meg had put her stuff in the bedroom to the left when facing the bathroom. Habit, maybe, since the layout of the place was similar to her own house.
She’d left the front door open so she could hear the ocean, which was, as Gina had said, right across the street. She stood at the door, watching the just visible glint of light off water, and inhaled, catching the tang of salt water and something sweet and florid. Probably some exotic tropical plant somebody had planted. She’d always liked California beaches, and she liked how this one made her think about the first time she’d visited Gina in L.A., the first fall they’d been together.
She smiled as Gina’s car pulled into the drive, a Subaru sport wagon that she’d said she kept at her folks’ house so somebody would drive it while she was overseas. Practical and sporty. Kind of like Gina. Meg automatically opened the door and went out in her bare feet to help bring things in, like she used to do years back, because Gina had probably bought some extra food at a grocery store.
“Hi,” Gina said as she got out of the car, and her smile sent sparks racing down Meg’s thighs.
“Hi, back.” Meg smiled again as she approached, but caught herself. She’d almost gone around to Gina’s side of the car and kissed her hello. Too much too early, maybe. And part of the way that time tried to trick her, making her feel ten years younger ten years later.
“That’s a good look on you,” Gina said, and it helped bring Meg back to the present.
“I thought you’d appreciate it.” She looked through the back passenger window. She’d been right. Gina had stopped at a store. Meg opened the door.
“You totally look like you’re on vacation.” Gina came around to the passenger side and opened the front car door while Meg took the two grocery bags off the back seat.
“Good. I kind of feel like I am. Is that everything?” she asked, motioning with her chin at the smaller bags Gina carried in one hand.
“For now.”
Meg bumped the door shut with her hip and waited for Gina to precede her into the house because she had a free hand. Once inside, Gina unpacked dinner while Meg unloaded the groceries. A half-dozen eggs, a loaf of French bread, Asiago cheese, fruit, turkey bacon, a small brown bag of freshly ground coffee, two bottles of Perrier, a small container of half-and-half and a bottle of white wine.
“I remembered you always liked a little cream in your coffee if it was available,” Gina said as she put plates out on the counter.
Meg put the half-and-half in the fridge. “Thanks. And yes, I still do.”
Gina tossed her a grin and Meg wrenched her eyes from Gina’s, afraid that she’d overstep a boundary before either of them was ready. Instead, she inspected the label on the wine bottle, which was cold. Gina must have gotten it from the cooler at the grocery store.
“California vineyard. We get that stuff cheap out here,” Gina said as she placed what looked like a sub sandwich on one of the plates.
Meg laughed. “Yeah, they’d better cut you a deal. Living near the source and all.” She started opening drawers until she found a corkscrew. In a cabinet, she found plastic wine glasses. They’d do. She opened the bottle and poured a half-glass for each of them.
“Shall we be civilized?” Gina gestured at the breakfast bar.
“We shall.” Meg took the wine glasses over and Gina brought the plates. She’d included potato chips and a pickle with each.
“Oh, hold on. Napkins.” Gina tore a couple of paper towels off a roll on the counter and set one next to each plate. “Dinner is served.”
Meg sat down and picked up her sandwich and looked at the layers. Olives, salami, ham, provolone, shredded lettuce, tomatoes. And probably some delicious olive spread. She grinned. “Perfect.”
Gina picked up a chip. “You haven’t tasted it yet.”
“I don’t have to. It’s perfect.” She took a bite and made an appreciative noise. “I was right.”
“Well, I know this Italian place out here,” Gina said with a wink as she took a bite of her own sandwich.
Meg took another bite, savoring. “Of course you do. And lucky me.” She picked up a chip and watched Gina for a few moments, remembering the last time she saw her in Fort Collins, and how she still moved her deeply. Like ten years ago. Like now.
Gina caught her gaze and held it, a smile on her lips and a question in her eyes.
“I’m—I’m having some kind of weird déjà vu thing going on,” Meg said. “I can’t explain it.”
Gina set her sandwich down and gave Meg her full attention. “Like you’ve been here before but you’re not even really sure you’re actually here now?”
She nodded. “Something like that.”
“Same here.” Gina ran her fingers over the back of Meg’s hand, and the sensation shot up Meg’s arm, lit a fire low in her belly, and threw sparks up her spine.
“I’m going to keep thinking that we’re both here,” Gina continued, “because it’s exactly where I want to be.” She pulled her hand away, much to Meg’s chagrin, and picked up her sandwich. “So how’s everybody at the DR? Did Marjorie come this year? Forgot to ask about that.”
And Meg relaxed into the conversation, and she reveled in how easy it was to be here with Gina, how easy it was to talk and laugh, to enjoy a familiar rapport, as if the years hadn’t stacked up between them.
Meg finished the last of her chips and glanced at Gina’s plate, which was empty, too. She stood and picked both plates up. Gina stood too, like she was going to help.
“Go sit down,” Meg said. “Get comfortable. I’ll take care of this.”
“You sure?”
Meg gave her a look and Gina shrugged, sheepish. “Yes, Doctor.”
“Uh-huh. Take the wine with you.”
“Ah. I like that prescription.” She picked up the bottle with one hand and grasped the stems of both glasses in the other before she went into the living room. Meg finished up in the kitchen and joined Gina a few minutes later. She was sitting on the couch with her left foot on the coffee table, wound clearly visible.
“Mind if I go into doctor mode?” Meg asked.
“Absolutely not.” Gina motioned at her leg. “I’ve been on it a lot today. It’s a little sore.”
“Muscle ache?”
“Yeah. Doesn’t feel like the bad kind of sore. Just too much activity sore.”
Meg got down on one knee to have a closer look. An eight-inch gash ran up the side of her leg, from about two inches above her ankle to mid-calf. Its edges were new scar tissue pink.
“It won’t be the prettiest scar,” Gina said. “Docs aren’t sure what caused it, but they assume it was glass, since it was a pretty clean slice on the inside. It got a little messed up externally because of other debris. I can’t even tell you for sure what happened, exactly. I just remember that it hurt after the camera guys picked me up.”
“Are you putting anything on it?”
“Vitamin E oil and this holistic scar cream Mary got me. I rub it in there and do some stretches to keep it loose as it heals.”
“Does your leg hurt all the time?”
“Not really. Right now, it’s kind of achy, but it’ll ease up.”
Meg looked up at her, concerned. “Are you taking anything for it?”
“Haven’t really had to for a while. But I’ll take ibuprofen sometimes. That helps.”
“Do you need some now?”
She smiled, reassuring. “No. It’s already eased up.”
“How’s your shoulder?” She gestured at Gina’s left arm and Gina raised her arm and held it out to the side, like she was pretending to be an airplane. Then she lowered it.
“Still a little stiff. Sore if I do too much. Like my damn leg. And yes, before you say it, I have rehab exercises and I do them every day.”
“Good. So I don’t have to get after you for that.”
Gina gave her a sly grin. “Not for that, no.”
Meg felt the flush gather on her neck and she gestured at Gina’s right arm to distract herself. “Let me see.”
Gina chuckled. “I really am liking this bossy side of you.” She pulled the sleeve of her tee up over her biceps. Meg stood and leaned over Gina to look, and fought to focus because Gina was so close, and she could feel her body heat and smell a trace of cinnamon and citrus as Gina shifted her position. Focus, Meg remonstrated herself. She peered at Gina’s arm. Another gash, about four inches long, ran from mid-biceps toward her shoulder on the outside of her arm. The scar tissue was thicker than what was forming on her calf.
“How’s your range of motion?”
“Good. Docs told me to make sure I move it around, even if the scar tissue pulls a bit. It didn’t hit the muscle, whatever it was. I’m using that scar cream and Vitamin E on it, too.”
Meg nodded. “They look good.” She straightened. “I wouldn’t put you out to pasture just yet. You’ll need some more stall rest, though, and make sure your straw gets changed at least once every other day.”
“Good to hear.”
“Let me check your head.”
“I’ll bet you say that to all the girls.”
“If they’re lucky,” Meg shot back. “So let me see.”
“Absolutely,” Gina said with a soft laugh as Meg sat down on the couch next to her.
“Turn a little.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Gina turned her head to the right so Meg could examine the left side. The wound was a jagged gash roughly two inches long. She carefully pushed Gina’s hair aside so she could get a better look and she ran her fingers along either side of the fresh scar and pressed gently. No residual swelling, but she’d expected that, given the amount of time that had passed since the bombing. “Does it hurt if I press like this?”
Gina sighed contentedly. “No. Must be your nice doctor hands.”
“You think?” Meg continued to move her fingers along the side of Gina’s skull, checking for anything else. And maybe she just loved running her fingers through Gina’s hair—was she being too forward? She hesitated.
“Mmm.” Gina closed her eyes and leaned into Meg’s touch.
Maybe not. Meg smiled as her heart seemed to speed up this close to her, and she enjoyed how sparks chased each other through her chest, and made her think about possibility.
“I wish I could’ve been around more when you were in vet school,” Gina said after a while, eyes still closed.
“I do, too. But then I wish I hadn’t been such a dumbass.” Meg reluctantly pulled her fingers away.
“You weren’t a dumbass.” Gina turned her head to look at her. “Please, Meg. Forgive yourself. That was then. This is now.”
Meg nodded, but a knot had replaced the sparks in her chest.
Gina waited and Meg saw the question in her eyes, and the uncertainty.
“Do you think this is weird? Me being here?” Meg finally asked.
A smile pulled at the right side of Gina’s mouth. She nodded slowly. “Yes. And no. It is but it isn’t.”
Meg sat back. “I had all these ideas about what I’d say to you and what I’d do. And here I am and I don’t even know where to start.”
“It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to. Yes, we have a past. But I don’t need to dig through it. I’m interested in meeting you where you are now.”
