The Secret of You and Me - Melissa Lenhardt Page 0,39

of my own and pulled two cold beers from a cooler. “I brought a cooler, too.” I twisted the caps and offered a Blue Moon to Sophie. “Those orange slices would come in handy about now.”

She leaned forward a little, then stepped back. “I would love one but, I, um...” She cleared her throat and looked away. “I’m an alcoholic.”

I lowered the beer slowly from my lips. Mary’s comment about Sophie being a mean drunk and Logan’s overreaction to Sophie drinking my half-empty beer made sense now. I put the beers back.

“You can drink in front of me. It’s no problem.”

I closed the cooler and the trunk. “I’m not much of a drinker either.” Sophie looked skeptical. “The visitation wasn’t the norm. How long have you been sober?”

“A year this Saturday.”

“Congrats. Thanks for telling me.”

“I should have told you in the barn, but I had to pick and choose my issues, you know. There are so many to choose from.”

“Soph—”

She fluttered her hand. “No pity, please.”

We stood together, not talking, but not moving to leave either. I was afraid this was the beginning of the end, that the air would be cleared but then what? She had her life, her family, I had mine. I’d take care of Ray’s estate and leave. Sophie would become a state senator’s wife. We’d occasionally text, maybe talk on the phone a couple of times a year. It sounded awful. But, what was the alternative?

We leaned against the back of my car, staring at the street. “So, here’s something weird.” I reached out for Sophie’s hand, not sure what I was doing or why.

“Hmm?”

“My phone doesn’t try to autocorrect impress with seduce.”

Sophie raised her right eyebrow, and the right corner of her mouth lifted with it. “So weird. You might want to have that checked out.”

She skimmed her thumb against the palm of my hand again and, despite the heat, goose bumps popped up on my arm. Our eyes shifted to each other’s lips. Sophie was biting the inside of her lower lip. I wanted to reach out and touch her lips, but I was too afraid of where it might lead.

Sophie inhaled deeply. “The woman who called you the other day. Was that really about work?”

Her expression was tentative, as if she didn’t really want to know the answer to the question. I’d forgotten how forthright Sophie was. I’d always admired it, but right now, I wish she would just learn to let us be for a moment, enjoy each other’s company, get past the shyness and uncertainty between us, before pushing on to the next issue.

If Sophie saw the photo enough to know it was a woman calling me, she saw enough to see me kissing Alima on the cheek and Alima’s expression. I didn’t want Alima brought into my time with Sophie. Not when Sophie and I were tentatively back on solid footing. Alima and Sophie couldn’t share the same space in my mind right now. Alima had been the first friend to fill the Sophie-sized hole in my life. When we started sleeping together, the parallels to my relationship with Sophie had been uncanny. I loved Alima in a way I hadn’t cared for anyone since Sophie, but being back in Lynchfield, seeing Sophie, being with her, had muddled my emotions.

Muddled emotions or not, I reminded myself there was no future with Sophie. My life was in DC, hers was here, with her daughter, Charlie and her career.

“We work together. But, we weren’t talking about work.”

She released my hand. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“She’s married.”

Sophie raised her eyebrows. “So, she’s what? Your fuck buddy?”

Anger burned through me. How dare Sophie question me, judge me, about my life. How dare she insult Alima like that, dismiss what the two of us had. “Living near Brenda all these years has rubbed off on you, I see. Your lips pucker with disapproval just like hers do.”

“They do not. And you haven’t answered the question.”

“Alima is a closeted lesbian in a loveless marriage with a huge extended family of conservative Muslims. We were friends long before we were lovers. It’s probably the healthiest relationship I’ve ever had. But, she can’t commit, and I don’t want to. She’s good for me, and I’d rather have her when I can than not have her at all. It works for us. She has her husband, I have my lovers, as many as I want, and there have been a lot.” I regretted the parting shot as soon as