"I’m just visiting," Ginny explained.
"I hope for awhile," Mandy said seductively.
"Leaving in the morning, I’m afraid," Ginny lied. She felt the woman’s large breasts press against her own and she wanted to pull away.
"That’s a shame. But the night’s long," Mandy whispered in her ear.
Not long enough to convince me to stay with you! "I’m actually waiting for someone," Ginny lied again. She prayed that the song would end.
"Well, just my luck," Mandy said but she continued to hold Ginny close.
Ginny suffered through the slow dance, escaping Mandy’s arms as soon as the song ended and moved to the other side of the room, away from Mandy.
She made herself stay until midnight, enduring countless dances with strangers, none of whom stirred even the slightest desire in her. None of them could compare to Kara, not that she thought any of them ever would.
Back at her hotel, she lay on her bed, fully clothed, feeling even more depressed than before. Kara, where are you? I need you.
She closed her eyes and let silent tears fall, feeling her heart breaking all over again. How could she love someone so much, finally, and they just leave her? Leave with a half-assed excuse that it was for her own good? It made no sense.
And it wasn’t fair. She had been looking for so long. Looking for that magic, that burning desire. And she had finally found it with Kara. And now she was gone from her life as quickly as she had come into it.
She awoke during the night and undressed, crawling beneath the covers finally. But she couldn’t sleep any more. She tossed and turned, her thoughts jumbled with memories of Kara. Kara’s lips coming to her; Kara’s hands cupping her breasts. Kara’s mouth settling over her, taking her to heights she had only dreamed of. Kara. Kara’s face. Kara’s eyes. Kara.
She got up. Angry.
"Damn her," she whispered to her empty room. She had to stop. She couldn’t go on like this. It was slowly driving her insane, this desire, this need she had for Kara.
"Well, she doesn’t want you. She doesn’t love you."
Ginny laughed bitterly. And what could she possibly offer Kara anyway? Friendship? Yes, they were friends. But she was sure Kara found her lacking in bed. Ginny didn’t have experience. She didn’t know how to love a woman. Kara had probably been with many women, all of whom were vastly superior to Ginny when it came to making love.
Ginny was jealous again. Jealous of those women who had touched Kara, had made love to her. Was there someone now? Had she called up an old friend? Was there someone staying with her at her cottage?
Ginny slammed her fist on the table, cursing herself for the tears that ran down her cheeks; cursing herself for being weak.
She should just go back, she thought. Go back to Nana and her lonely life. She would forget about Kara. Eventually. Maybe even look back on this with fondness someday. Kara had, after all, shown her that there was a whole new life for her, just waiting to be explored.
But instead of leaving, she took a bus downtown and walked the familiar streets, window-shopping and people watching. She paused at the high-rise where Phil worked. Where she had once worked, too. She should go up. At least say hello. At least so that she could tell Nana she had seen him.
But she didn’t. He would want to talk. It would just start all over again and it was better this way. She didn’t want to see him, anyway. He meant nothing to her anymore. He was just a distant memory of another life.
She walked down to the waterfront and had lunch, taking her seafood platter out to the patio overlooking Puget Sound. She had to fight the gulls for her last shrimp, but it was relaxing to be out here again. The familiar smell, the familiar sounds. She hadn’t realized she had missed Seattle. She had stayed away because of Phil. But Chiwaukum was only a couple of hours through the mountains. She could come back now, if she wanted. She no longer felt the need to avoid Phil. That was over.
She wondered through Pike Place Market, watching as the vendors displayed their goods, shoving through the crowds. Back on the street, she walked again through downtown, pausing to watch the horse-drawn carriages carry tourists along to the waterfront. She walked on, passing shops and people, her mind blank and empty for once.
She passed an art gallery, one that she had walked past a hundred times before and her breath caught in her throat. She reached out to touch the glass, her eyes wide. It couldn’t be. She brought her hand to her chest, trying to chase the pain away. The Big Tree. By Kara Morgan. She looked at the card again, but it was there.
Her eyes blinked quickly, trying to hide the tears that had formed. She stared, dumbfounded. The forest was ablaze in white light, the moon seeming to chase the sun from the sky. Her eyes followed the giant tree into the dark forest, down its rough bark, bark that she could still feel pressing against her skin. The path to the tree seemed to glow and she followed it now, as her feet had followed it all those weeks ago. And there, at its base, stood the shadows of two lovers, beneath the summer moon, heads drawn together, embracing. Hands touching, loving.
She shuddered and her breath left her in a silent gasp. Is that how they had been? Wrapped so closely together that even the barest of light could not penetrate? She watched, and remembered.
"Did you want him the way you wanted me? Did you beg him to put his mouth on you?"
Ginny swallowed hard, her eyes unseeing as she stared at the painting.
"Did he make you feel the way that I did? Were your breasts ready for his touch, like they are mine?"
Ginny shook her head. "Never," she whispered. She closed her eyes and saw them, her hand placing Kara’s between her legs. "Touch me."
"Ginny, Phil is coming."
"I don’t care. I need you. Don’t stop."
She groaned, remembering. "I’m so sorry."
"You don’t ever have to be sorry for wanting me that way."
And then, "Ginny, honey, come on."
And Ginny knew. Kara loved her. It was all there, right in front of her. Kara loved her.
She pushed through the door, going immediately to the painting.
"May I help you?"
Ginny looked up, stunned. "I… I want to buy this one," she stammered.
The woman smiled. "Ah, are you familiar with her work?"
"Yes."
"Well, we have some others of hers. I’m afraid this one is not for sale."
Ginny swallowed. "What do you mean?"
The woman smiled again. "The owner has decided to keep it and display it for awhile. Perhaps in a few months…" She walked away, beckoning Ginny to follow. "Come, we have some others by Kara Morgan."
Ginny followed, her eyes wide as she saw familiar scenes appear before her. The waterfalls, at sunrise. Nana’s favorite lake, also at sunrise. She looked closer, seeing two deer faintly in the mist. She moved on and her eyes teared again. Their lake. Their sunset. She reached out. She had sat right there, beside Kara and watched as the colors changed, as the lake turned from blue to orange before her eyes. She glanced at the card. Ginny’s Lake. She raised her eyes to the woman.
"Yes, this one is beautiful," the woman said. "But, its been sold."
Ginny’s heart sank. Sold? That was her lake. That was her sunset. She took a deep breath and turned to the woman. "I want the one in the window," she said evenly.
"I’m sorry."
"Please, I have to have it. Ask the owner," Ginny pleaded.
"Very well. I’ll be right back."
Ginny watched her go, then turned again to Kara’s paintings. They were beautiful. All of them. She could picture Kara standing over them, her fingers holding the brush gently, lovingly stroking the canvas, bringing the scenes to life.
"Ma’am?"
Ginny turned. "Yes?"
"She’ll part with it for three thousand," the woman said.