Page 39 of Windlass

“Yes.” She tossed the pillow back on the couch. Her hands shook. The scream had helped a little, but energy still ricocheted inside her, looking for fuel. She’d burn Stevie up if she got too close. “I can’t be around you right now.”

She turned too slowly to miss the hurt that blanketed Stevie’s eyes, dimming their brightness. Her own eyes blurring with tears, she walked as quickly as she could to the stairs, jogged up them, and made it to her room before self-destructing in a silent fit of tears.

Chapter Eight

The next morning Stevie found a note by the coffee that read,You are forgiven. —A

She folded up the note and put it in her wallet where, she guessed, it would remain until it wore away into dust.

Stevie did not mention the fight she’d had with Angie to Morgan that day at work, or to Ivy who stopped by to ride. She also neglected to mention her modeling session, the leaking roof, or the fact that she was near combustion with want and care. Angie’s tear-streaked face, blotchy with anger, had haunted her all night.

She’d thought Angie had chosen to sleep in her own bed, dampness and stripped sheets be damned, but Stevie had woken at some point in the night to the shifting of her mattress as Angie slid beneath the covers. She kept her breathing even, not wanting to scare Angie away.

After some quiet tossing, Angie settled, then inched closer until the warmth of her back pressed against Stevie’s.

The simple, perfect pleasure of that heat was more ruinous than Angie’s lips. She knew now what it was like to sleep beside her, and the prospect of even one more night without the steady reassurance of Angie’s breathing ate at the edges of her sanity.

She needed this. She needed this more than she’d thought it possible to need anything.

Ivy snapped her back to the present with talk of proposals.

“I don’t want her to feel pressured,” Ivy was saying. “We’ve talked about it, a little, but that’s different than the real thing. But I also think she’d want you all around to celebrate, and I want to do it in a place that means something to her and me.”

“The island,” Stevie said immediately, thinking of the secondhand stories she’d heard. Not waggling her eyebrows took supreme effort. “Didn’t you spend the night there in a blizzard or something?”

Ivy guided Freddie across the low creek bed winding along the trail. The day was overcast and cool, which was a nice change, even if it did bring mosquitos with it.

“You think? I was worried it would feel too much like a part of my family.”

“It will be her family, too, if she says yes. There’s got to be a hundred perfect places there to do it.”

“I can think of one.” Ivy’s tone suggested she’d put a great deal of thought into that spot.

“Not to sound self-serving, but you did say you’d invite us up for a weekend this summer. Do it then—if she says no, you’re surrounded by friends. And yes, we’re your friends too. If she says yes, we have a party. Then we get to have another official party later.”

“You really don’t think that’s presumptuous?”

“I don’t think you’d be asking if you didn’t know her answer.”

“I could be wrong. It’s happened once or twice before.”

Stevie snorted. “Do you mind if I ask ‘why now’?”

Ivy looked away down the path, which surrounded them on all sides with thick pines and low, scrubby bay laurel, interspersed with oaks and maples.

“I want her to know I’m serious.”

“You don’t think she knows that?” asked Stevie.

“I walked out on her once and I don’t want her to think I’m ever doing that to her again,” Ivy said all in one breath. “Also, it will make things easier for us when my health gets worse. Just in case the hospital gives her a hard time, you know?”

“Yay homophobia.” Stevie fought back the urge to tell Ivy her health would not get worse, and that everything would be okay. Ivy had multiple sclerosis; her health would wax and wane, with an emphasis on waning. Everything would not be okay, though she had Lilian by her side, and even MS should tremble in fear at that prospect.

What if something like MS happened to Angie? Her ribs constricted at the thought.

“I also want her to be able to have things if anything happens to me.”

“Things?”

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