Chapter Eleven
Something had shifted for Kate the moment the social worker had asked her if she was offering to adopt Ren and Eva. Never in a million years had she planned on jumping into a ready-made family, being someone’s parent, after living a solitary existence for so many years. No way.
But the thought gnawed at her until the concept didn’t seem like such a crazy one.
Kate hadn’t planned on the little rugrats latching onto her heart the way they had over those many months, when they’d played on the sidewalk or taken long walks through the neighborhood together. Or that they would come to need someone so desperately. She couldn’t have anticipated that, no, but she could be that person.
She couldn’t do it out of guilt, though. It wouldn’t be fair to them. If she stepped forward, it had to be because it was what she wanted. Them. She grabbed her phone and dialed, not allowing herself to think much further. At the very least, this was an avenue she had to explore. She owed everyone involved that much.
“Lieutenant. Good morning,” Jennifer said upon answering.
“Good morning. Listen, I’m sorry to bother you again—”
“That’s all right. Unfortunately, I’m afraid I don’t have any updates.” Jennifer had to be growing weary of Kate’s frequent inquiries to DHS, but she needed her help on this one.
“I was actually calling for a separate reason. I was wondering if you could arrange a visit for me with the kids? I’d like to check in on them. Say hey. Spend some time with them. It’s been a couple of months. And maybe, while I’m there, you and I could talk about their future.”
A pause hit. “Of course. They’d love to see you. Will you be in the area?”
“I will be soon.” Kate knew what she had to do, what her purpose was. All of this had happened for a reason, and that reason was slowly coming into focus. She just had one stop to make first. It wouldn’t be an easy one.
“Hey, you,” Autumn said, as Kate arrived at the shop. She wiped her hands on her apron and picked up a cup. “The usual?”
Kate nodded. Autumn seemed upbeat and her eyes shone brightly when they landed on Kate’s. Beneath it all, she knew Autumn was just as torn up as she was about their impending good-bye. Regardless of how she was feeling, Autumn was able to project the kind of positivity that drew people in. It wasn’t just her outward disposition either; that light radiated from within. Kate’s heart clenched at the wash of feelings that came over her. Autumn was a good person, and Kate wanted the world for her. There was an uncomfortable tug at the knowledge that she wouldn’t be there to help her get it. Yes, she’d known that from the start, but that didn’t assuage the pain now.
“So, there’s a street fair near my house this weekend. Will you still be in town?” Autumn asked, handing Kate her drink.
Kate hesitated and Autumn picked up on it right away.
“So that’s a no. Got it,” she said, her smile dimming. She focused all of her attention on the countertop and her mission to scrub it clean—a guise to hide any and all emotion.
“Do you have a minute?”
“Of course,” Autumn said, untying her apron. She followed Kate outside and around the building, but she wasn’t herself. Like a robust balloon that had all its air drained away, Autumn’s demeanor hung heavy. “Back home?” she asked, once they were alone.
Kate nodded. “I have to. Those kids need someone, and there’s no one else. Maybe I need them, too, you know?”
Autumn attempted a grin, but it was through tears. “I do know. I think you’re a good person, Kate, and you’re doing a good thing. Doesn’t mean I won’t miss you.”
Kate pushed her hands into her pockets, feeling like a fish out of water. She wasn’t the type to get emotionally attached, but the rules didn’t apply where Autumn was concerned. She was different, and she’d wedged herself firmly in Kate’s heart. There would never be another Autumn.
“This isn’t good-bye,” Kate said; anything to help them through this. Her head swam and her heart ached. “I’m here until morning.”
“Feels like good-bye.”
Kate knew what she meant. The safe little world they’d created for themselves had been stripped away, as if someone had flipped on a bright light, revealing that the magic hadn’t been theirs to keep.
“Come here.” She opened her arms and Autumn fell into them. They stood that way on the sidewalk for several moments. Kate did her best to memorize every sensation, the way it felt to touch Autumn, the soft smell of her shampoo, the way her curls tickled the side of Kate’s cheek. “Come over tonight,” Kate said in her ear. Autumn nodded and held her tighter. Even though Kate knew that this marked the beginning of something new in her life, she didn’t want to let go of what she had right there in front of her.
“I think I’ve blown this,” Autumn said.
Kate stepped back and cupped Autumn’s face in her hand. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve gone and fallen for you.”
The words made her ache all over. She brushed her thumb across Autumn’s lips in a gentle gesture. “You haven’t blown anything.” The fact was, she’d fallen for Autumn, too. There had been no way around that. She didn’t say the words. She couldn’t.
Autumn wiped away the tears that had gathered under her eyes and took a step back. “I better get back to work.”
“Okay,” Kate said, wishing she could have given Autumn more, confessed all to her in that moment. She deserved to know what she meant to Kate, how she’d saved her from a very dark time in her life. Instead, Kate stood there, wordless. Stuck between two realities.
“I’ll stop by after closing,” Autumn said.
Kate nodded and watched her go, regret welling up thick and tight. She wasn’t sure how you got over someone like Autumn. She’d infiltrated Kate’s life and made her feel things she didn’t think were possible. Who was she going to talk to well into the night, or tease relentlessly, or recount the latest Grisham book to? Autumn had become her person. How was she supposed to just let that go?
* * *
Autumn knocked on Kate’s door just before ten that night. The day had been a long one, made longer when her newest employee had been a no-show and she’d ended up covering his shift in addition to her own. Her neck pulled, her arms ached, and her feet felt like if she didn’t get off them soon, she might just keel over. Yet nothing hurt nearly as much as her heart, no matter how hard she tried to brace herself against it.
When Kate finally opened the door, the apartment behind her was dark. “Hi,” Autumn said. She peered inside. “Were you asleep?”
“Not even close,” Kate said, and took her softly by the hand, leading her inside. Only once she did, she understood that the room wasn’t dark, but dimly lit with tealight candles. One on the island in the kitchen. One on the end table, and two on the bookshelf.
“It’s so pretty in here,” Autumn said, trying to make her brain work after such a bitch of a day. Kate continued to lead her farther into the apartment. “Wait. We’re not staying in here? It’s so beautiful.”
“Nope.” They walked down the short hallway to Kate’s bedroom, where there was another handful of candles interspersed, and on to the adjoining master bath, where Autumn’s breath caught in her throat. The garden tub was full and she could feel the magnificent warmth wafting her way. There were candles at all four corners of the tub and rose petals drifting on top of the water. Gorgeous. “For you,” Kate said. “You had a long day.”
Autumn nodded and looked up at Kate. “No one has ever done anything like this for me.”
“Well, now they have,” she said simply. She pointed at Autumn’s Pajamas T-shirt. “May I?”
Autumn nodded and raised her arms, as Kate lifted the blue T-shirt over her head. Kate carefully undressed her one piece of clothing at a time and held her hand as she stepped into the waiting bath. “Oh, man,” Autumn said in exhale. “This is heaven.” Heaven grew exponentially more wonderful when Kate handed her a glass of wine that was waiting on the counter.
“Get out of here.” She sipped the wine and sighed. “This is crazy.”
Kate smiled and, with a slight candle adjustment, sat on the edge of the tub. Autumn sucked in a breath as Kate soaped up a washcloth and softly washed her shoulders, her back, her breasts. Autumn exhaled languidly, relaxing for the first time that day.
“I could get used to this,” she said, and then realized she couldn’t. That part wasn’t an option. A lump rose in her throat, painful and persistent.
Kate must have picked up on the realization. “Don’t,” she said. “Tonight, let’s not think about it.”
Autumn nodded at the lofty request. After a lengthy and wonderful soak, she allowed herself to be helped from the tub and into a waiting towel, fluffy and soft. Kate wrapped it around Autumn, but not before her eyes blazed a trail across Autumn’s naked form, sending a shiver through her that rivaled the heat from the tub. Channeling the confidence she’d discovered most recently, Autumn opened the towel once more, welcoming that gaze, reveling beneath it. She heard the air as it escaped Kate’s lungs, and the flash of desire in her eyes told Autumn that the invitation had not been lost on her. That gaze led to an erotic thought, which led to another, which led to another, until Autumn was all keyed up and bothered. She wanted Kate, but more than that, she needed her. Moments later, she found herself lifted easily and set on top of the counter just feet away, towel still open and around her shoulders. She smiled at the intense look in Kate’s eyes, doing everything she could to encourage this mission. Her gaze hadn’t left Kate’s but she felt the pressure between her legs, Kate’s hand. She pushed back against it slightly, and then more firmly. Kate’s lips parted and her eyes fluttered.
“You could have left today,” Autumn told her, holding her gaze.
“No, I couldn’t have.”
“And why not?” Autumn asked.
“You know,” Kate said.
“Because of me?”
Kate nodded, pushing into Autumn fully. A ragged moan tore from Autumn’s lips at the sensation and the sentiment.
“You,” Kate said, and pressed her lips to Autumn’s neck. “Of course you.” Autumn clutched Kate’s shoulders, encouraging the motion of her hand, and her own need climbed like a sure and steady staircase, higher and higher and higher. Kate knelt in front of her. She kissed her inner thigh and went to work with her tongue in—oh God, wondrous ways. Her hands held Autumn in place on the countertop, strong and gentle at the same time. Autumn held on to the marble as the orgasm ripped through her in only a matter of seconds, shattering any semblance of control. She was calling Kate’s name, that much she was aware of, as she fell further and further into a blissful oblivion.
A rag doll.
That’s all she was, spent and breathless, and sitting on a bathroom countertop, a fluffy towel pooled around her waist. Kate kissed her cheek tenderly. “Should I carry you, or would you like to walk to bed?” she whispered.
“I got this,” Autumn whispered back with a smile. On wonderfully wobbly legs, she followed Kate to bed where the crisp sheet was pulled back for her. She wasn’t quite ready to slip beneath it and would much rather wrap herself around Kate. “Why are you still dressed?” she asked Kate simply, and took extreme pleasure in watching Kate remedy the problem. Autumn’s eyes moved across that olive skin and toned physique. There was no getting used to it, and every time she had the pleasure of staring at Kate’s body, she counted herself lucky. As Kate slid into bed, Autumn went to work immediately, enjoying the romantic glow of the candles not far away, the way they flickered across Kate’s skin. She traced the pattern of that flicker with her tongue, chasing it. She made love to Kate slowly, savoring each gasp, each connection.
Curled into each other, limbs tangled, they stayed like that, talking, stroking each other’s hair, and staring into each other’s eyes, knowing this would be the last time.
“It’s not your fault, you know,” Autumn said, quietly breaking the silence. “The fire. You didn’t set it.”
“I didn’t set it,” Kate repeated evenly.
“And you’re not responsible for that man’s death.”
Kate went still and silent at the declaration. Autumn moved a strand of hair from Kate’s forehead.
“Do you believe that?”
“Mostly I do.” Kate sat up. “Still haunts me, though.”
“Then say the words. Say that it wasn’t your fault.” She placed a hand on the soft skin of Kate’s back.
“I don’t think I want to. What would be the point of saying it out loud?”
“Just try,” Autumn said gently.
There was a long pause. Autumn couldn’t see Kate’s face, but she knew how difficult a request this was. Finally, she turned back to Autumn, her hazel eyes filled with sadness. “It wasn’t my fault.” Once the words had been released into the universe, the sides of Kate’s mouth turned down and her face crumpled. Autumn was up and with her arms around Kate instantly. She’d never been one to show vulnerability, but here she was, raw and on display.
“It wasn’t,” Autumn repeated. “You did everything you could, and nothing else would have changed the outcome.”
“I couldn’t get to him,” Kate said, her voice sounding broken and small. “The beams broke. We fell to the first story and no one could go back in after that. The order was given.”
“And you were hurt.”
“I know, but I can’t help but wonder. What if I’d been able to go back in there one more time? I can’t stop thinking about it. Day and night. The ‘what if?’ factor.”
Autumn shook her head. “No. Would you have let one of the other guys, one of your friends, go back in there? Would you?”
Kate shook her head. “It would have been reckless.”
“Exactly. And if you’d gone back in, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now. I would never have met you, and what a shame that would have been, because you’ve made the biggest difference in my life.”
Kate nodded, and Autumn held her as she cried, stroking her back and listening to the quiet sobs that eventually faded into the night.
Autumn dried her tears and kissed her lips softly.
Kate rested her cheek back against the pillows, facing Autumn. “Can I tell you something?”
“Anything.”
Kate gestured between them. “This is far more than I thought it would be.”
Autumn already knew that. She’d known she was in the midst of something important from that first week. “I’ve been one to play by the rules. Get good grades, go to work, make everyone happy. Then you came along and made me want to do all sorts of things not on the required to-do list. It’s been a fun jaunt, Kate. But also, so much more than that.”
Kate smiled. “Whoever would have guessed?”
“I couldn’t have dreamt you up if I’d tried.”
They fell asleep wrapped up in each other, and when Autumn woke for work early that next morning, Kate walked her to the shop. Their good-bye was wordless; it had to be. Autumn was too choked up to speak. She wrapped her arms around Kate’s neck and held on, savoring the last few seconds of connection they would have. When she released her, she saw the tears as they fell from Kate’s cheeks. She cradled Autumn’s face in her hand and just looked at her for a few moments. With a final earnest kiss, she disappeared down the dark sidewalk, taking Autumn’s heart along with her.
When Autumn took a break midmorning, the blue pickup truck was gone.
* * *
“A double expresso with marshmallows, please.”
Autumn paused and stared at the man wearing suede pants in the summer. She could let the suede go, but that drink order was another story.
“I think you mean espresso, and did you ask for marshmallows? Are you thinking of cocoa?”
“No, just toss a couple of marshmallows in there.” The guy glanced at his folded newspaper as if what he said was the most natural thing in the world—when, in fact, it was blasphemous and wrong on so many levels. Autumn of last week would have smiled, rolled her eyes internally, and handed over the creepy, ill-thought-out drink in the name of customer service. Autumn of this week, Autumn sans Kate, had no tolerance for coffee nonsense. Who the hell did this guy think he was, barging into her shop and asking for marshmallows in his coffee?
“I don’t think we can do that,” she said evenly. She felt Steve’s gaze on her from down the counter.
“You don’t have marshmallows?” Suede asked.
“It’s the soul-crushing fortitude it would take to hand you that kind of drink that I don’t have, sir.”
Steve stepped to her side, his voice low. “I got this one, Autumn.”
She looked up at him. “You sure you want it?”
“Yep.”
Pulling the towel from her shoulder, she decided to take five. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hadley, who had been reading a crime novel at a table close by, put down the book and follow her out of the shop.
“How you doing?” Hadley asked gently, joining her on the sidewalk out front.
“How does it look like I’m doing?” Autumn asked back, feeling frustrated with the world and her lack of control over it. Her spirits had taken a hit, which carefully stripped her of her ability to cope with even the most mundane.
“Like you might lunge across the counter and choke that customer out.”
She turned to Hadley, a small smile creeping onto her face. “Is that an option?”
“I vote no.” A pause. Hadley placed her hands on the hips of her designer jeans. “You’re missing Kate.”
Autumn sighed. “It’s been a little over a week, and everything just seems to…matter a lot less.”
“Have you talked?”
Autumn shook her head. “We decided not to. Clean break is better, you know? Why drag it out?”
“Makes sense. The old ‘ripping off the Band-Aid quickly’ mentality. Wanna sit?”
Autumn nodded and followed Hadley to the curb, where they took a seat and watched the traffic whiz past, the sound extra offensive, which Autumn knew was just her projecting.
“Being bad sucks, I’ve decided,” Autumn said, her gaze fixated on the horizon. There were people on the beach just a couple of blocks away, frolicking, having fun, living their lives. Meanwhile, hers had fizzled like a defective firecracker on the sad little sidewalk.
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think walking on the wild side has its perks. I also think that you experienced a few juicy ones.”
Autumn smiled at the memory of said perks. “That part’s true. Bad girls get perks.”
“Bad girls get perks,” Hadley repeated. “We should put that on T-shirts.”
“We’d make a killing.” A fist bump was obviously in order, and they both went for it at the same time.
“Aren’t you glad it happened, though?” Hadley asked. “That an amazingly kind and hot and sensible woman came into town, swept you off your feet—”
“And changed me forever?” Autumn nodded, letting the question settle. “Depends on how long it’s going to hurt like this. When do I stop missing her? Wanting to pick up the phone and hear her voice, even though we said we wouldn’t go there?” There were those pesky tears again, springing into her eyes without consulting her at all. She was the equivalent of an emotional blender lately, all tossed together and lost in the whirring shuffle of feelings.
“Hey, now,” Hadley said, wrapping both arms around Autumn. “I didn’t mean to upset you. You have so many exciting things to look forward to. Just think about that.”
Autumn nodded, knowing that Hadley was right. She just had to focus on the positive, the future, her self-proclaimed new lease on life, right? Surely she’d find a way back to that newly found spunk and move herself out of the sadness that had settled at Kate’s departure.
Hadley released Autumn and met her gaze. “So, where’s your head as far as…the rest of your future plans?”
“Are you asking if I’m still having this baby?” She looked at Hadley, feeling a little bit of light drift back to her. “Yes. I most definitely still want to be a mom. Not even a question in my head.”
“And the big insemination day is?”
“Back on track for this month. I gave them a call. Three days from now, which means no more alcohol after that point.”
“No more alcohol? Say no more.” Hadley smiled innocently. “I think we’re going out tonight.”
* * *
“Are there more people here than a minute ago?” Autumn asked, scanning the bar as it approached midnight. Her vision blurred slightly, and she blinked to clear it. The music was loud in a really good way and the bass pulsed its way through her body.
“I think that’s called seeing double,” Gia said loudly, over the eighties cover band playing across the room. She grinned as the song shifted, tossing both arms into the air. “Madonna!” she exclaimed, and commenced her perfectly timed lip-sync to “Like a Virgin,” something Gia would never in a million years do sober. Autumn, who was not a giggler, giggled. Life was happier with alcohol. She should have more of it. All the time. The world exploded with fun, and seemed noticeably easy and interesting, and look at all the colors! She’d probably stay up all night just enjoying the lights, the people. Hadley was right. This had been a fantastic idea. She was never leaving.
“No, no,” Autumn said to Gia with a grin, gesturing at the room in general. “Not seeing double. I see all the people and they’re just…people. Pretty, pretty people out for a party.”
“Bonus points for alliteration,” Isabel said, and took a pull of her bourbon and Coke that looked so dapper with that fancy little cherry on a stick. Isabel seemed to be taking it slower than the rest of them, which was not as exciting.
Autumn leaned across the table. “C’mon, Baby-Izzy. Catch up. It’ll be a blast. Join me in drunk Neverland.”
“Less of a blast tomorrow,” Isabel said. “But Baby-Izzy is a new one from you.”
“I’m super creative tonight.”
“Unfortunately for you, I’m seeing Taylor after this and do not plan to be sloppy drunk.”
“Sounds like a booty call to me,” Gia said, still performing all the Madonna choreography in perfect rhythm.
Isabel stared at her. “Do I look in any way, shape, or form like someone who has a problem with that? Have you met my girlfriend?”
Gia grinned. “Good point. Haul your booty over there.”
“You guys,” Drunk-Hadley said, rushing to their table from the dance floor, where she’d been bopping the night away. “There’s a really swoon-worthy woman on the dance floor and I got to sway near her.”
“Introduce yourself,” Isabel said. “You always think everyone’s out of your league, and you’re one of the most attractive women in this damn bar. Act like it.”
“Nah. Not in the mood,” Hadley said, bouncing in place. “I’m too tipsy. I just want to dance.”
Autumn narrowed her gaze, and then gave her head a little shake so Hadley would drift back into focus. She opened her mouth to offer her own advice, but had to pivot at the much more important distraction. “Your hair is so blond. Like, look at it.” She reached out and stroked the air near Hadley’s head. “It’s like the blondest of blonds, and I want to brush it.”
“Okay,” Isabel said, sliding Autumn’s drink across the table. “And with that, I think it’s time to cut somebody off.”
“Yep. Do it.” Autumn nodded and looked around the room. “Who?”
“Not important,” Gia said, and carried Autumn’s drink to the bar.
“She’s got our drinks confused. She took mine.” Autumn pointed after Gia in confusion. “S’okay. I can share!” she yelled loudly across the room. She turned back to see Hadley heading to the small dance floor. “I’ma dance now.”
“I’ma?” Isabel asked. “We’re going with I’ma?”
Autumn kissed Isabel’s cheek and headed off after Hadley, racing to her so as not to miss another moment of fun. Only the arms she fell into on the dance floor weren’t Had’s, but they were super toned. Whoa. She squeezed the arms and glanced up into dreamy eyes. Not hazel, though. Not even close, which was a damn shame.
“Hi,” the woman said. “Sorry about that. You okay?”
Autumn nodded, intrigued by the stranger.
“I’m Cooper.”
She saw Hadley leap into the air behind the woman and point at her excitedly.
“Like the car? They named you after the car?” Autumn asked, her alcohol-influenced brain trying to understand why anyone would do that.
“Not exactly.”
Autumn blinked and caught another glimpse of Hadley’s face rising behind Cooper’s. She gave Autumn the thumbs-up sign, before her feet returned to the floor, causing her to disappear again like a human Whac-A-Mole. “You’re a hot car, though, Cooper Cooperson. Wanna dance?”
“I was hoping you’d ask,” Cooper purred in her ear. Autumn didn’t care for the purring. Who did that? Made her ears tingle weirdly, and her shoulders scrunch. To distract herself, she commenced bobbing around next to Cooper, which was all she really felt like doing anyway, now that she was here.
“Can I get you a drink?” Cooper asked, two songs later.
“Nah, my friend has mine. She’s watching out for it. I’m good.” And before she knew it, the song changed to something bluesy and sultry, and they were dancing extra close. A pair of lips pressed to hers. Instinctually, she sank into the kiss, absorbing the contact at first, and then moving her own lips against Cooper’s. Autumn grabbed the front of her shirt and pulled her in closer. Cooper’s lips weren’t very warm, though. Chilly, in fact, from the ice in her drink. It felt like kissing a wet fish, flopping around against her mouth, and she wanted it to stop. She pulled back and stared at the floor.
“You’re a knockout, you know that?” Cooper asked, just millimeters from Autumn’s face. Why was she so close? And why was kissing her such a monumental disappointment? And why did the lights resemble alien spaceships set to land on their heads? The colors no longer seemed as captivating. Cooper leaned in again, intent on another kiss, but Autumn dodged her, feeling sick to her stomach and needing air.
She held up a finger, feeling herself sway. “No more of that, Madame Automobile. Finding my friends now.” She pointed at a random woman across the dance floor. “Go kiss her now. Or somebody else. You choose.” Autumn had stopped drinking twenty minutes ago, but it seemed like the alcohol was still seeping into her system, making her drunker by the second. With a final pat on Cooper’s shoulder, she stumbled back to their table, where Isabel offered her a hand.
“Have a seat,” Isabel said and slid a tall glass toward her. “Drink some water. All of it. That’s an order. And if you finish that, we’ll get you another one. I have an Uber on its way.”
“Hey, you okay?” Gia asked from the chair next to hers. “You look upset.”
Autumn nodded, acknowledging the sadness that had zapped her like a lightning bolt out of nowhere. Happy one minute, desolate the next. And it was the weepy overwhelming kind of sadness, too, where it feels like the world is ending and there’s no point in going on. “I don’t know why I let myself get attached, you know?” she said to Gia and Isabel, who squinted, probably trying to keep up with her ever-shifting emotions.
“Which thing are we talking about?” Isabel asked.
“I knew from the beginning she wasn’t here permanently. Just a short time.”
“Kate. Gotcha now.”
Tears flowed. Autumn gestured wildly. “And now I’ll be alone forever because no one kisses like her. Not even Car-Woman over there.”
“Car-Woman?” Gia asked, rubbing Autumn’s back like a good friend.
“Doesn’t matter now. I need to blow my nose.” Gia handed her a napkin, and Autumn went to town, then handed it back to her. “Sorry.”
“Oh. Okay,” Gia said, looking around for a trash can.
“I lost my shoe,” Hadley said happily, appearing at their table from another turn around the dance floor. “I’m like Cinderella.”
“A drunk one,” Isabel said, and sighed. “Come on. I’ll help you find it. Gia, can you meet the Uber, and take this one with you.” She pointed at Autumn.
Gia balked. “The crying one? I get the crying one?” But Isabel was already gone, tugged away by Drunk-Hadley.
“No, I’m the dancey one,” Autumn corrected, standing and shaking her hips. She was beginning to feel better already. Emotions were flying in and out on a dime. “I want to stay right here.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Gia said. “You were bawling two seconds ago.”
“I’m dancing now, Gia Pet.” Autumn held up her hands in surrender. “I won’t go anywhere. Promise. Just gonna dance right here and watch the ceiling turn.”
“Fine. Right there,” Gia said, and headed for the door.
Once she was alone, Autumn got the best idea, and knew exactly what she had to do. She took out her cell phone and dialed, because there were things that she had to say. Important things, and this was the best time to say them, when she had such clarity. When the call rolled to voice mail, Autumn sank into the chair at the rich sound of Kate’s voice telling her to leave a message. Kate. It felt like forever since she’d heard that voice. She’d have to call back five or six more times just to listen to it after she left her very pressing message. She waited patiently for the beep, closing her eyes and bracing herself against the spins. She gripped the table with one hand as she spoke.
“Kate. It’s Autumn.” Kate probably knew which Autumn, but just for good measure, she added, “Primm. Listen to me, okay? Don’t say anything. You do not in any way kiss like a fish, and I needed you to know that. You kiss like a goddess. Like a Greek goddess skilled in the ways of, like, love and passion and Scrabble. Thank God you were not named after any machinery. I miss you. You don’t have to call me back or anything. I just needed you to know all of these things. About the fish and car and the passion. Well, maybe you could call me back.”
“Whoa. What are you doing?” Isabel asked, holding Hadley’s wrist with one hand and reaching across the table for Autumn’s phone with the other. “Are you drunk dialing right now? Freeze. Drop the phone.”
As Isabel moved toward her, Autumn headed around the other side of the table, knocking into the tall chairs as she went. “Isabel’s coming!” she yelled into the phone. “Help! Help me!”
“Give me the phone,” Isabel said, advancing. “Hand it over, Primm. Friends do not let friends drunk dial.” She raced around the table after Autumn, dragging Hadley with her.
Autumn screamed and continued her message, shouting and speaking as quickly as she could. “Kate, I just wish you’d never left and hope that you miss me and that you still drive that really sexy truck.”
“Uber’s here,” Gia called from the front of the bar. When Autumn glanced in her direction, Isabel snatched the phone.
“Hey!” Autumn yelled. “I wasn’t finished yet.”
“Well, you are now,” Isabel said in frustration, and clicked off the call. “Sober-Autumn will thank me tomorrow.”
“That was a really sweet message,” Hadley said, reaching across the table and squeezing Autumn’s hand. “You’re really good at expressing your feelings.”
“Oh, God.” Isabel rolled her eyes. “Into the car. Both of you.”
“This was a very fun night,” Autumn said, grinning at no one in particular as she was escorted from the bar. The cool night air smacked her in the face as they climbed into the car. Sandwiched between Isabel and Hadley in the backseat as they drove, Autumn leaned her head back against the seat and let her mind drift to that night at the observatory. Her. Kate. The stars. She located them through the sunroof of the vehicle, bright and wonderful and steady, and wondered if maybe Kate was looking up at them, too.
She raised her head. “You guys, I think I might be sick.”
* * *
“Hey, there,” Kate said, laughing, stumbling backward. The kids had shot like rockets into her arms when she’d arrived at the home of Mrs. Henderson, their foster mother, a smiley woman in her late sixties. Kate remembered seeing her around town, always very friendly and the type to pull just about everyone she knew into a grandmotherly hug.
“You’re back!” Eva said with a wide grin. “We missed you!”
Ren stared at her. “I thought you’d moved away.”
“Not quite. Whoa. Did you two grow?” Kate asked, staring into two beaming faces.
Ren nodded confidently. “I definitely did.”
“Not me,” Eva said. “I think I shranked.”
“Shrank,” Ren corrected.
Eva still wore a compression bandage on her left leg and would have to for many months to come, Kate was told. However, her perky exuberance seemed intact. “Shrank,” she replied reluctantly, looking annoyed at her brother’s correction.
“Are you feeling better?” Ren asked. “I am.”
“Me too,” Eva said. “I don’t have to be in the hospital anymore. I’m out.”
“I can see that!” Kate made a point of looking really impressed. She turned to Ren. “I’m good as new. Thanks for asking, pal.”
“Where did you go?” Eva asked, sliding onto the couch next to Kate.
“I took a trip to California for a little while. I needed to rest. But I came back because I missed you both.”
Eva slipped her hand into Kate’s. The simple gesture brought on a pang of sentimentality. She was such a softy lately. “I’m glad you’re back. Want to see my new coloring book? I’ve already colored three pages.”
“Definitely,” Kate said, grinning.
With Jennifer’s permission, they spent the next few days together, Kate picking them up from Mrs. Henderson’s and taking them on little field trips. The bowling alley, the movies, the petting zoo on the outskirts of town. They were kids, who of course got grumpy, and bickered with each other along the way, but for the most part, the three of them got along impressively. Kate was actually really surprised by her own ability with them and began to imagine her life in charge of them both for good. The fire, as tragic and horrific as it was, seemed to have set her on the path she was meant to be on. She’d never been one to get caught up in the mysticism that was fate, but she was starting to believe in its existence. Something unseen was ushering her along. She could feel it as clearly as she could feel the sunshine on her skin.
“Do you know where we’re going to live now?” Eva asked one afternoon, as they took a walk through the small neighborhood where they were staying. “Ms. Henderson said that we are only her kids for a little while. Then whose kids will we be? Do you know?”
Her big brown eyes carried fear, and Kate wanted nothing more than to reassure her, to offer up her own life and tell Eva that everything was going to be just fine very soon. But there was still a lot of red tape to sort out with Oregon’s Human Services. While Jennifer had been thrilled to hear that Kate wanted to adopt them, especially since she would be willing to take both siblings together, it wasn’t as simple as just signing a form. It would take time, and home visits, and a ruling from a judge, and agreement from the kids themselves. That part was important to Kate. In the meantime, it was best not to get the kids’ hopes up until they were further along in the process. They’d lost their father, and it was obvious that they still struggled to fully realize the extent of that tragedy. Eva had nightmares, Kate had been told, where she woke up yelling for him. Ren didn’t talk about him as much, but he’d grown quieter, they’d noticed. Stories from both had revealed their home life had been less than desirable and chock-full of neglect, but the loss of a parent was huge and would impact them forever.
It was when she was alone that her thoughts drifted back to Venice. To Autumn. She missed her more than she would have thought possible, and when all was quiet, she allowed herself to remember the soft skin of Autumn’s neck, her firecracker personality, the smart-aleck remarks, or her incredibly impressive mind for business. She thought of everything that was Autumn and went to sleep each night wishing for a way back to her.
Tonight was no different. After a quick shower, she cracked the window and allowed the breeze to move through her bedroom, opting to sleep in just a T-shirt. As she slid into cool sheets, she caught sight of a notification on her phone. A voice mail.
Hearing Autumn’s voice on the recording, she sat up in bed, a bolt of excited energy shooting through her. She smiled when she realized Autumn was flat drunk on the message.
She missed Kate. That one hit her right in the center of her chest.
She laughed when she heard Isabel chasing Autumn and Autumn shrieking in response. Most of the message had made zero sense, but there was a takeaway: Autumn was thinking about her, too, which somehow made her seem not that far away. She debated calling back, but if Autumn was as drunk as she sounded, then maybe it wasn’t the best night for it. Her friends were fantastic and would take good care of Autumn. Didn’t mean Kate wasn’t wishing she was the one doing those kinds of things.
As the hours ticked on, the pull grew that much more insistent. She needed to hear Autumn’s voice again, live and in real time. In fact, she could think of little else.
The next day, she waited until midafternoon when she knew Autumn would take her break at Pajamas. It was sunny and warm there. She’d checked the weather so she could imagine it. Yes, they’d made the decision to keep the break clean, not wishing to make their parting any harder than it needed to be, but if Autumn could break the no-calling rule once, so could she. It was like a free pass.
It took several rings for Autumn to pick up. When she did, her voice sounded tentative, maybe even a little embarrassed, which was understandable.
“Hey,” Autumn said softly.
“Hi,” Kate answered, smiling. “I got your message last night.”
A long silence hit, and if she knew Autumn, this was the moment she was beating herself the hell up while turning an impressive shade of crimson.
“Yeah, I was afraid of that. Kate, I’m so sorry. I’m not even entirely sure what I said, but I do remember the highlights. Kill me now.”
Kate chuckled. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. But I wanted to make sure that you’re okay today.”
“If, by okay, you mean have a pounding headache, lifeless limbs, and a churning stomach, then I’m doing fantastic.”
“Uh-oh. I was worried you’d say that.”
Another pause. Autumn’s voice was gentler when she spoke again. “You’re sweet to call.”
“No, I’m not. I’m selfish as hell. I wanted to hear your voice.” Her words came fast and with unexpected honesty. She couldn’t see Autumn, but she tried to picture her, probably standing in the storage room at the back of the coffee shop, one hand in her hair, the other holding the phone. Had that last comment upset her or made her smile? It was hard to know. She wanted to.
“Kind of the same reason I called you last night. Again, so sorry about that crazy message. I’m so embarrassed.”
“Don’t be. I was happy to get it.”
Autumn sighed. “We said we wouldn’t do this.”
Reality arrived like an unwelcome houseguest. “Just a minor misstep. I figured if you got one, so did I.”
“I suppose that’s fair.” Now Autumn was smiling. Kate could hear it creep into her voice. “You take care of yourself, Kate. And make sure you get a little sun up north.”
“California taught me well.” She lingered a moment longer just because she wanted to. “’Bye, Autumn.”
“’Bye.”
She clicked off and held the phone against her chest, as if not ready to let go of the connection to Autumn just yet. She ruminated on the call, reliving each moment of their exchange, before shoving it to the side for the sake of self-preservation. How had she let it go this far? She knew how. Their commingled best intentions had flown right out the window when they were within ten feet of each other. But no, that wasn’t true either, because here she was, hundreds of miles away, and still she craved Autumn with her mind, body, and soul.
She had to find a way to stop. It was time.