“I know you’re miffed at us, and I’m sorry we didn’t wait for you, but if you’d been trapped too, and if Beth had come?” I shook my head. “No. It’s far better you weren’t in that fire.”
“You look like you have a bad sunburn,” Tammy observed in a gentler tone. “Both of you. Winter, I just don’t know what to say. I talked you into coming and—”
“I’m glad you did,” she piped up with conviction. “Sure, there’s been this whole stalker trying to hurt Aspen fiasco, but I’ve learned so much and met wonderful people. No one was seriously hurt tonight—just had a bad scare. We’ll be more vigilant tomorrow.”
Tammy raked a hand through her tousled gray ruff of hair and nodded. “See that you are. You know, people these days have gone nuts. What really ticks me off is that this stalker—this arsonist, attempted murderer, felonious bitch—is one of our own. I mean, we have enough enemies to fight without having to worry that a sister is going to get a wild hair and go homicidal because of …” Tammy waved a frustrated hand in the air. “Whatever. I guess when you boil it all down, lesbian, gay, bi, trans, straight, or whatever else, we’re all still human. And humans, well, as a species, pretty much suck.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, void of emotion. I was too numb to be angry anymore. “But a few of you are pretty awesome too.”
My response coaxed a chuckle out of Tammy. She pointed at Winter and me, giving us a humorous evil eye. “You two behave yourselves tonight. I’m off to bed.”
“Thanks for everything,” I said. “I mean it.”
Tammy winked and showed herself out.
Alone in the quiet, I gingerly reached an arm around the back of the loveseat to welcome Winter to my shoulder. She nestled in and slid a hand around my waist. “What was with you andthe cops? You shut down in there—or was it just the shock over almost getting barbequed?”
“I associate the police with bad news,” she murmured. “Being in that interview brought back memories, is all.”
Concern for Winter, her memories, and her feelings snaked through me, and I brushed a kiss to her forehead. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” She hugged me tighter. “Just being with you like this is all the comfort I need.”
I realized her words reflected exactly how I felt. Letting out a deep breath, I rested my head on hers and closed my eyes.
Chapter 18
Champagne Brunch on a Beer Budget
“Ifeel fine, really,” Elaine insisted on Sunday morning as we sat around a table with a pristine, white linen cloth sipping mimosas with our eggs, bacon, and waffles. The fruit was fresh and fragrant, the seasoned eggs fluffy, and the bacon crisp. A silver tray of flavored syrups sat in the center of the table beside the salt, pepper, and a dish of butter squares.
“In my haste to see who has been harassing our dear Aspen, I forgot to bring my purse with my inhaler. Between the excitement and the smoke, my airways spasmed and closed up,” she explained casually, suggesting it was a common occurrence. She slathered her Belgian waffle in blueberry syrup. “Thanks to Aspen and Winter, I’m just fine. I didn’t even get minor burns like they did.”
Winter and I had fallen asleep on the loveseat in my room the night before. I remember a feeling of deep contentment beneath the dread and exhaustion that had weighed me down. I likedhaving her near me, touching her, and being touched by her. When I woke around three o’clock, she was gone. I pulled off my shoes and black slacks, with their smolder holes and melted patches, and crawled into bed, hoping she was all right. With thoughts of Winter rising above the specter of SapphicLover69, I drifted back to sleep until nine.
I can’t say how long I stood in the fabulous spa shower soaping myself to rid my hair and body of the smoke smell, but I didn’t have the water on full hot this time. The skin on my face, shoulders, arms, and hands was tender where it had been exposed to the heat. Afterward, I rubbed sunburn lotion all over.
The medics had done a good job, as only a few blisters remained visible on my hands. I held them out and studied them; the barest signs of age showed in fine lines across their backs. A few brown spots larger than freckles resulted from time spent in the sun. The manicure Alice had done for me looked surprisingly good, considering—although the paint on one acrylic nail was scratched and a thumb bore a little chip. I supposed I should fix it, but I didn’t know how to apply the polish. What if I streaked it up and made it look worse? What if it didn’t match the other nails?
I flexed my hands as I sat in front of the mirror, noting how foreign the press on ornaments felt. They looked nice. They were glamorous, like Aspen Wolfe, but they weren’t me.One more day,I reminded myself,then you can retreat to your boring life and try to craft your next best-seller … maybe about a hottie who falls for a nerd. My bold protagonist will whisk her off to bed, or maybe take her on a lab table with beakers and test tubes crashing to the floor as their passion drives them. My heroine will be far braver than I am.
Only one more day and then no more Winter. That prospect loomed bleaker than any January blizzard.
“That’s what the stupid stalker doesn’t understand,” Winter said as she stuck her fork into a juicy red strawberry. “She mistakenly thought Aspen would be trapped alone in the fire and die. She didn’t count on her having friends who’d never allow her to face an uncertain future by herself. Although I suspect Aspen would have found a way out, even if we weren’t there, having the three of us contribute pieces of the solution ensured the villain’s scheme would be foiled.”
“Truer words were never spoken,” I declared, “nor truer friends ever had. I find myself in all your debts.”
“Nonsense!” Elaine flapped her napkin before wiping sticky amber drops from her fingers. “Hanging out with you makes our lives interesting.”
I had to laugh at the irony.
“These eggs are so good,” Tammy commented. “Babe, I wonder if we could get their recipe?”
Beth aimed a disgruntled look at her. “I’ve made them like this before. You just splash some Tony’s Creole Seasoning in them and a little cheese.”
“Well, do that then. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with your eggs,” Tammy backpedaled. “Everything you cook is marvelous.”
“Uh huh.” Beth peered at her skeptically.
