"Thanks, Taylor. I don't know what I'd do without you," Camarin said. Relieved that Taylor wasn't angry with her, Camarin replaced the receiver and stepped outside. She held the door for Kimberly.
"Your turn," she told her.
"Hmm, so it is," Kimberly said, a sound of dread obvious in her voice. "If you don't mind, I'd like privacy, too."
Camarin winced as Kimberly closed the door in her face. Her comment was clearly intended to let Camarin know she hadn't fooled her when she made a pretense of not being able to hear when she was on the phone with Taylor. Camarin shrugged and leaned against the booth. People were so confusing! Take, for instance, the people on the lake. For the life of her, Camarin could not figure out why anyone would want to go ice fishing. She sighed and closed her eyes, waiting for Kimberly to finish her call.
Kimberly ended the call with Mark still talking, trying to get her to explain what was happening. She felt like a jerk leaving him wondering, but then, he hadn't been a model of kindness and consideration himself. She took a deep breath and opened the door.
The blast of cold air felt refreshing after her heated discussion with Mark.
"Everything okay?" Camarin asked.
"As well as can be expected," Kimberly replied. "In case you hadn't noticed, Mark is very possessive. But that is his problem," she added. "Now which way to your cabin?"
Camarin hooked her arm through Kimberly's. "Just follow me,"
she said, smiling.
On the way to Camarin's cabin, Kimberly found herself wondering who her friend was and what exactly was her relationship with Camarin. Where they really just friends? That and a million other
questions assailed her thoughts. She found it was starting to matter less and less to her what she told Mark. Right now, there were more important things in her life, like understanding why she was attracted to this woman walking beside her. "Life is never dull," she muttered to herself.
Camarin heard the muttering. "What's that?" she asked, pointing to her ear. When Kimberly quirked her eyebrows, Camarin laughed.
"Honestly, I didn't hear what you said," she insisted.
Kimberly smiled, the humor breaking her dark mood. "Is that your friend?" she asked, pointing to a woman who stood outside one of the cabins.
"Well, no, it isn't," Camarin replied. "That's our cabin but the woman standing there is not Taylor." Not knowing what to say or do, Camarin continued to the cabin where Taryn Williams stood waiting.
"My, my, aren't you a busy girl," Taryn greeted her. Her boot-clad feet at a cocky angle and her hips thrust out, strutting like a prostitute looking for a trick, Taryn approached the two women.
"Why, you're Taryn Williams, the woman from Lavender Excursions," Kimberly said. Puzzled, she looked back and forth at the two women.
"No correlation," Taryn said. "Although I do wonder what you're doing out here in the north woods with this cocky reporter." She flashed a smile at Camarin. "I ran into Taylor down at the store and she told me you guys were staying here." Taryn chuckled. "Small world. I didn't know you and Taylor were friends."
"Yes, Taylor and I go way back. It was my weekend to do ski patrol and Taylor wanted to get out of the city for a while. So here we are." Having no idea what Taryn was planning, Camarin said nothing more. Instead, she gave her an expectant look, one that asked the obvious question, "What are you doing here?"
"Come inside and get out of those wet things," Taryn said in a motherly tone. She took both women by the arm and led them into the cabin. "You look like you went ice-fishing and fell in," she teased.
Camarin and Kimberly laughed nervously as they removed their wet coats and scarves. Taryn summarily took the wet items and hung them to dry. Meantime, Camarin sat on the bench and motioned for Kimberly to join her. They removed their boots and set them on the boot tray. Taryn returned and stood watching them. Finally, unable to stand the suspense any longer, Camarin asked, "What are you doing here?"
"Actually, I've been up north on business and was on my way back to Chicago. When I stopped to get gas and something to drink, that's when I ran into Taylor." Taryn motioned toward the main quarters.
"She told me about the smoke bomb," Taryn said. "Any idea who did it or why?"
"Uh, no," Camarin said. Seeing the puzzled look on Kimberly's face, she explained. "I was going to tell you about it when we got here. Someone, probably kids thinking they were pulling a cute prank, set off a smoke bomb in our cabin."
Taryn bit her tongue, trying to keep her anger in check. To give herself a few seconds to regain her composure, she said, "Let's move into the living room." The two women followed her, Camarin and Kimberly sitting on the couch and Taryn taking the armchair closest to the fire. Unable to stop herself, she gave Kimberly a coy smile and winked. "Now Camarin, be honest," she said. "Whose husband did you piss off?" She turned to Kimberly and explained, "Camarin just can't keep her hands off married women. I've repeatedly warned her that she'd eventually run into someone who would seek revenge." The smile never leaving her face, Taryn leaned back in her chair.
Camarin decided to let it go. If Taryn had something planned, there wasn't anything she could do about it. Ignoring the barb, she smiled and engaged in the mindless chatter of old friends entertaining one another with amusing stories of their personal lives. Time passed very pleasantly. Taryn looked out the window and noticed it was snowing again. She decided she'd better cut the visit short since she did want to return to Chicago tonight. "Looks like I better get moving," she said, pointing to the window. "Present company excluded, this is not a place I'd want to get stuck."
"Oh, my," Camarin said, surprised to see the unexpected snowfall.
She stood and walked Taryn to the door, Kimberly following a short way behind her. While Taryn slipped into her coat and boots, Camarin reminded her, "Drive carefully. You're not in Chicago where the roads are cleared within minutes of the first snowflake falling."
Taryn laughed. "I'll try not to forget," she said, opening the back door.
Camarin and Kimberly stood in the doorway, watching Taryn walk down the icy path. "I'll call you when I get back," Camarin called after her. "Maybe we can get together for lunch or something."
"Sure thing," Taryn replied. She hurried inside her car and started the motor. Drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, she waited for the car to warm a little. The snow was getting worse and it seemed to be getting colder. She decided to stop somewhere, pick up something to eat and fill her thermos with coffee. Backing her car out of the driveway, she started in the direction of the freeway.
Ten miles later, she was still driving and looking for a place to stop.
She spotted a tavern, just on the edge of another little resort town.
What the hell, she thought. After locking the car and kicking ice chunks from its sides, she went inside. The place was dark and dreary. Most of the customers looked to be locals indulging in friendly conversation while they chugged a few beers.
One of the men spotted Taryn right away. He whistled and yelled,
"Hey, pretty babe, wanta have some fun?" Giggling like an adolescent schoolboy, he ducked down so Taryn couldn't see who'd yelled at her. The other men joined in, whistling and making eyes at Taryn. Feeling braver now that his friends had joined in, the man raised his head and blew Taryn a kiss.
Taryn ignored the men as best she could, knowing a response would egg them on. She walked to the bar and ordered a large coffee to go. When she paid the bartender, he winked at her and said, "Ya'll come back now." She gritted her teeth, turned and strode out of the dingy little tavern.
Once inside her car, Taryn opened the coffee and took a sip.
"Whew, hot!" she said. The incident in the tavern dismissed, she started thinking about more important matters. Her mind was reeling and her cunt was on fire. No matter how much she tried to evade her feelings, the end result was the same. Taryn longed for Kimberly in a way she found to be very threatening to her hard-core independence.