Part 14 (2/2)
He played with the big orange tag on her bag, asking casually, ”What do you expect from Regan?”
”What do you mean?” She blinked, puzzled.
”You know...” He looked at her and tilted his head back and forth. ”Are you dating?”
”Me and Regan?” She shook her head dismissively. ”She's my pal. I'd be a wreck if it hadn't be for her. We've really been able to boost each other up when we've needed it.”
”And that's all?”
”Yeah.” She stopped and looked him in the eye. ”Why do you ask?”
”I just wondered. It's been a while since you broke up with Marina and I a.s.sumed you were... moving on.”
”I'm not ready. I'm sure of that. Besides, I've never even thought of Regan in that way, and I've never gotten any indication that she's into me, either. We're friends...like Terri and I are.”
”I don't know why you'd want to just be friends if you could have more. I still don't think I understand this whole lesbian thing.” His expression was so befuddled that she had to laugh.
”I'm not sure I understand it either, Dad, but I'm sure I'll learn the tricks eventually.”
”I thought maybe you'd give men another try.”
”I guess that could happen.” She sat on her suitcase so she could zip it closed. ”I'm not that concerned with the s.e.x of who I date. At this point I only care about how honest they are. That's more important to me than genitals.”
”I prefer genitals.” His single dimple showed when he flashed his youthful smile.
Chapter Thirteen.
Callie's plane landed more or less on time, and as soon as they allowed it she called Regan. ”I'm here!” Her voice with filled with excitement and was half an octave higher than usual.
”Good deal. It'll take about a half hour to get your luggage, so I'll swing by the pickup area at eight thirty. If you're not there, I'll keep circling, okay?”
”Great. See you soon. I'm excited!” She switched off and said more quietly to the man in front of her who had turned to glare at her. ”Sorry. I'm excited.”
Callie walked outside just as Regan drove by the first time. A remarkably small, bright red car pulled up and Regan called out, ”It doesn't look like it, but I promise everything will fit.” She put it into park and jumped out, running around to the curb to hug Callie. They embraced quickly, then Regan started trying to get the big bag into the small car. ”I had to do this every time Angela went anywhere for more than a few days. I got pretty good at it.” When it was snugly secured in the tiny trunk, she ran around and jumped in, turning to smile relievedly. ”It's great to see you.”
”Same here.” Callie reached over and grasped Regan's arm, squeezing it tightly. ”I've been looking forward to this like you wouldn't believe.”
”Cool. Very cool.” Regan checked her mirrors and started off. ”Sorry about the tiny car, but I got it when I moved to Cambridge. Parking was unreal there and the less you had the better it was.”
”I like your car. It suits you. But I'm not sure where those long legs are.”
”Check and see how much further back my seat is. Yours is at the normal person position.”
Callie put her hands in the air and shook them. ”I'm jittery. I hardly slept a wink last night, but I feel like I've had ten cups of coffee.”
”Then let's not make plans for the morning. We'll leave for P'town whenever. You'll probably want to sleep in.”
”No, I'm fine. I can keep up. I don't need a lot of sleep if I'm doing something fun.”
”Then I hope you don't need much sleep this week,” Regan said, flas.h.i.+ng a warm smile.
They left the house the next morning at ten a.m., after stopping at a diner in town for a breakfast of coffee and cheese omelets, which Callie p.r.o.nounced one of the best she'd ever had. They'd only traveled a few miles when Callie said, ”I've decided. This is much nicer than the Bahamas.”
”It is nice, isn't it? I haven't traveled much, but I can't imagine too many places better than New England. We've got everything. Skiing, fis.h.i.+ng, hiking, great bike trails. Small towns, big cities.” She took in a breath of the clean, moist air. ”But in my humble opinion you can't beat the Irish Riviera.”
”Hmm, I thought the Riviera was in France. I swear, you can't trust a thing you learn in school.”
”That's what we call the towns along the sh.o.r.e down here. You can't throw a rock and not hit an O'Malley or a McShane.”
”I like it. A lot. Especially this salty air. I've been dying for moisture in the air my whole life. I've had enough of having my lungs scarred by dust and sand.”
”Is Phoenix really that bad?” Regan shot her a quick glance. ”I've never been anywhere that's real dry.”
”No, it's not bad. A lot of people love it. Both sets of my grandparents moved to the desert from the Midwest. Voluntarily,” she added, chuckling. ”We had a chance to get out. My dad had a job offer from IBM when I was real little, but he didn't want to live in New York.”
”Oh, right. I forget your dad's in the computer business.”
”Yep. I think that influenced me in choosing my major.” She smiled a sickly sweet grin. ”Daddy's little girl.”
”That's kinda nice.”
”Yeah, it's nice to be able to speak the same language. I wanted to go to school to learn design, but the best schools are all private. So I went to Arizona and figured I'd have a real trade.”
”So, is there anything good about the desert?”
”Sure. It can be beautiful, especially at sunset and sunrise. But we didn't live where you could see the mountains or the real desert, for that matter. We just lived in a nondescript neighborhood where it got a hundred and twenty degrees in the summer. To me, that's the worst of both worlds.”
”You've really never liked where you live?”
”No, I can honestly say I've never liked it. A fair-skinned, redheaded girl is not the ideal desert dweller. I spent my youth covering myself with sunblock and looking for shade. I'd probably feel different if I lived in a house facing the Superst.i.tion Mountains or if I could see the desert blooming in the spring. But all I remember is being hot in the spring and summer and fall and being cold from the dry, cold wind in the winter. I just wasn't made for Phoenix.”
”But Dallas is better, right?”
”Yeah, it's better in lots of ways. But it doesn't have an ocean,” she said, dreamily, looking past Regan to see the vast expanse of blue, with whitecaps peaking every few feet. ”I've always dreamed of living near the ocean.” She smiled, a hint of sadness showing in her expression. ”I guess I've always been a fish out of water.”
As they motored down the Cape, Callie entertained Regan, calling out every time she saw a fish shack or a place advertising fresh lobster. ”You really like to eat, don't you?” Regan asked, after a while.
”I lo-o-o-ove seafood. When I was a kid we never had it, so I didn't know what I was missing. ”
”What? You never had seafood? Any kind of seafood?”
”Just fish-sticks at school.”
”Amazing.”
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