Part 27 (1/2)

That smile alone could have propelled Regan all the way to Nova Scotia. But plans had to be made. ”How about next weekend? It's somebody's birthday on Friday.”

”It's mine!”

”That too. How about it?”

”You're on. Where will we go?”

”I'll make plans. Leave it to me.” Spring was suddenly vitally important. Callie loved it and that was enough to make it paramount.

They finished their ten miles and a.s.sembled as a group as their coaches gave them a few tips. Some of the runners were going to brunch, but Callie started to ease away from the others. Regan turned and started to follow her. ”No brunch?”

”Can't. Meeting someone.” Callie scanned the area and waved at a woman sitting on a bench. She smiled at Regan and shrugged. ”Gotta go.”

But Regan stayed right next to her. She wasn't sure why she followed along, even though Callie tried to discourage her by whispering ”I've got a date” as they approached the woman.

”Hi,” Regan said, holding her hand out to the perplexed-looking woman. ”I'm Regan, Callie's friend.”

”Hi. Allison.”

Callie wasn't smiling. ”Regan just wanted to say hi before she left,” she said, staring a hole in her.

”Where are you two off to?” Regan heard herself ask. Who was the woman who'd taken over her body?

”We're gonna go have brunch,” Allison said.

”Oh. Where are you going? We usually have brunch with our running group.”

Callie put her hand on Regan's arm and turned her towards the dispersing group. ”You'd better run if you want to catch them.”

Regan took a quick look at the group. ”Yeah. I guess I'd better. Uhm, how long have you two been going out?”

”First date,” Callie said, giving a tense-looking smile. ”Gotta go now.”

”Okay.” Regan stuck her hand out and shook Allison's hand again. ”You guys have a great time.”

Callie and Allison started to walk and when she got about twenty feet away, Callie turned back and gave Regan a very quizzical look. Regan waved, feeling more confused by her actions than Callie probably did. She'd never tried to insinuate herself into someone else's date, but she'd almost asked if she could go with them. That was beyond strange.

After putting on her sweats, Regan decided to walk over to her favorite bookstore. She could have taken her car, but it was only a mile and parking was always problematic on Ma.s.s. Ave., so she decided to walk. Eventually she found herself on her former street. She had to go several blocks out of her way to get there, and she hadn't even realized she'd chosen such a circuitous route, but some part of her needed to be there.

Angela was in the front yard, working on a small flower bed she'd planted each of the years they'd lived together. She was in her usual gardening clothes: a nice pair of old khakis and a blouse that most people would think still had a lot of life left in it. But she was out there digging in the soil she'd built up with plenty of amendment to aid in the drainage. She gardened the way she did everything: carefully and properly. Regan stood on the corner, feeling exposed and vulnerable. Angela was just a hundred feet away, close enough to be able to hear a call. But Regan was never going to call her name again. Looking at Angela brought none of the heart-fluttering excitement she'd felt the first time she'd touched Callie's cheek. Angela was a good woman. She'd made a terrible mistake, and Regan was sure she'd do more than her share of penance over it. But there was nothing left. No animosity, no rancor, no pull. The relations.h.i.+p was dead. The time for grieving was over. It was spring. The time of rebirth and renewal, and Regan was going to start her life again-unenc.u.mbered by the past.

Regan picked Callie up on Friday night. It was a cold and clear night, and the weekend was supposed to be the same.

Callie came running towards the car, carrying a big backpack. She was practically skipping, and Regan felt the familiar and now welcome thrumming of her heart when they made eye contact.

”I'm so excited!” Callie tossed her bag into the back and settled down in her seat. ”Where are we going?”

”Tonight we're going to New Hamps.h.i.+re. I found a nice place up I-95 that's supposed to have great breakfasts. I know that eating is your favorite part of road trips, so I was very careful to take that into consideration.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Callie's hand hover for a second over her leg, then retreat. They'd abandoned almost all of their physical affection, and it hurt to see that beautiful hand slip into the pocket of her coat.

”I didn't eat anything, hoping we could stop somewhere cool. Will we have time?”

”We've got nothing but time. Our only agenda is to have fun.”

”That's my favorite agenda.” Callie smiled and the warmth of her smile made the car feel cozy.

Chapter Twenty-four.

They stayed on the interstate until they were halfway through New Hamps.h.i.+re. Regan pulled off the highway and followed some dim signs that indicated they were heading for U.S. 1.

After a mile or two they arrived at the inn, a small, tidy place that dripped New England charm. Regan looked around, very pleased with her choice. They checked in and went to their room, a spare but clean one with a very tall queen sized bed and a fire crackling in the small fireplace. When the innkeeper left them, Callie said, ”This is probably the cutest place I've ever stayed. Would anyone notice if we knocked off the owner and just took her place?”

”Probably not.” Seeing the happiness in Callie's eyes made her hours of work searching for perfection seem like a very good investment.

”Only one problem. Where can we eat? We didn't pa.s.s a place for the last fifty miles.”

”We can eat right here.” Regan shucked her coat and tossed her big bag on the bed. Slowly she pulled out a couple of bags and a bottle of wine, presenting everything to Callie. ”We're going to have a little birthday repast right here.”

Callie squealed with delight. ”Wonderful! What have we got?”

”A bunch of stuff you like.” They pulled a pair of comfy chairs up to the fire and put the bags on a small table. Regan opened them and placed cheeses, apples, pears, crackers and a tin of caviar before Callie.

Eyes wide, Callie took the tin and examined it. ”I don't think we've ever had caviar. How do you know I like it?”

”Because I like it,” Regan teased. ”You like everything that's good, so I a.s.sumed you liked it. And if you don't...I'll eat it all.”

”I love it!” Callie held the tin to her chest. ”This is a great birthday.”

”Don't forget the wine.” She pulled a corkscrew out and started to open a bottle of white wine. ”This will go really well with the cheese and the caviar.”

Callie reached out and put her hand on Regan's shoulder, then obviously thought better of the idea. She brushed her hand over her s.h.i.+rt. ”Some lint,” she explained. ”I'm glad I'm having my birthday with you. That makes it special.”

Regan wondered who had first backed away from showing the slightest physical affection? They'd lost so much of their precious familiarity. They had to be able to reclaim it, if only Callie was willing.

Regan got the cork out and poured two gla.s.ses half full. ”To very happy birthdays,” she said, clinking their gla.s.ses together. ”I hope you have a hundred more.”

”Only if you promise to come to my hundred and thirty-sixth birthday party.”

”I'll put in on my calendar the minute I get home.” They touched their gla.s.ses together once again and each took a sip.

”That's good,” Callie said, watching the wine coat the gla.s.s as she swirled it.

They dug into their meal, demolis.h.i.+ng the cheese and caviar with ferocity. When they didn't have a single cracker left, they slowly sipped their wine, slumped back into their chairs and watched the fire dance. ”Nice meal,” Callie said, her voice softer and slower than usual. ”Very... nice... birthday.”

”Oh! I forgot your presents.”