Never Too Late Page 8

  *

  Carla stood in front of the apartment door for several minutes, clutching the bag over one shoulder and her purse over the other. Now that she was here she felt embarrassed.

  “Mom! Oh, my gosh, what are you doing here? Nothing’s wrong—”

  “No.” Carla stroked Lissa’s cheek. She had her father’s thick, dark hair, loose from its customary ponytail. Her eyes were Carla’s. The smile was all Lissa’s. “I’m sorry. I should have called—”

  “Don’t be silly, Carla,” Steph said, stepping past Lissa and hugging her before pulling her through the door. “You don’t need a reservation.”

  Lissa stepped into her arms and Carla’s heart settled. This was her life. “You’ve lost weight. Are you two cooking? You can’t let soccer and school work interfere with taking care of yourselves.”

  Steph held up a container. She was taller than Lissa, with hair as dark but bright-blue eyes. “Spaghetti,” she said. “Lissa’s been experimenting with the recipe you gave her. Don’t worry about us. We know what’s important.” She came around the counter and wrapped her arm around Lissa.

  “You two look…” Carla frowned. “All dressed up. New blouse?” Carla straightened Lissa’s collar. “Orange is a great color on you.”

  Lissa looked at Steph. “Um…we were going out tonight.”

  “To a movie? Isn’t it kind of late?”

  “To a bar, Mom. A couple of girls I met in my English class invited us to meet them.”

  “We’d like to make some friends to hang out with,” Steph said.

  “I’ll call ’em and tell them we can’t make it.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Carla said. Her cheeks felt hot as she walked to the kitchen.

  “Mom! It’s a lesbian bar. Noisy. Crowded. Dancing. I’ll bet you can’t remember the last time you were in a straight bar.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Lissa.” Carla glared at her over the counter that divided the kitchen from the living room. “Do you think I’d be uncomfortable, or are you embarrassed to have your mom along?”

  “It’s just…” Lissa looked at Steph, who shrugged.

  “We’d love to take you out on the town,” Steph said.

  “Good.” Stephanie’s crooked grin was infectious, and Carla relaxed. “I could use a glass of wine. Wait a minute. How are you two getting into a bar? Don’t tell me you have fake ID’s.”

  “No, Mom.” Lissa rolled her eyes. “The bar’s inside a pizza place.”

  “Great. I’m starving.” A lesbian bar. Excitement replaced the disappointment of finding out Jamie had a partner.

  *

  “How’s work?” Lissa asked as they stood in line outside a brick building with a red neon Open sign in the window.

  “I’m not sure it’s right for me.” Carla clamped down on the hundreds of emotions attached to that statement. The air was crisp, and she tugged her sweater around her shoulders as she realized she was in a line of women, lesbians, waiting to get into a bar. She tried not to think about what Jamie and that woman were doing tonight. Her stomach felt jittery, and she tapped her foot to the beat of the music coming from the open door. How would she react to women dancing with each other? She tingled with nervous anticipation.

  “Sure you’re all right, Mom?” Lissa asked, as the two women in front of them kissed.

  “It’ll be fun,” Carla said, mostly to reassure herself.

  Lissa and Steph entwined their hands, and Lissa’s eyes softened when Steph whispered something to her. Love. Carla was glad her daughter had found it.

  “Wow,” she said, when they stepped through the door. Pictures of actresses covered every inch of the walls, many autographed. She looked for Meg Ryan’s picture as she followed Lissa and Steph past booths where people sat eating delicious-looking pizzas.

  As they stepped through a burgundy curtain at the back of the restaurant a flush crawled up her throat, and she wrapped both hands around her purse strap. She couldn’t scan the room fast enough. Women. Everywhere. A gorgeous black woman stood nearby wearing a T-shirt with Fearless Love in gold letters across the front. A Melissa fan. Carla returned her smile.

  “Are you okay with this, Mom?”

  “I’m fine, sweetie. Let’s find your friends, and then I’ll get a glass of wine and order pizza.” Carla took a deep breath, and the smell of body heat and perfume poured into her. She relaxed like a cat that had found its spot in the sun as she followed the girls to a table just off the dance floor. Two dark-haired women, one with half-a-dozen silver studs in one ear and the other wearing a tight black tank top, jumped up and greeted them with hugs for the girls and a “Wow, how cool,” for Carla.

  Carla sipped her wine and nibbled on the tomato-and-pesto pizza that was a big hit as she kept her eyes on the crowded dance floor. She had no idea who the singer was, but the beat was perfect for dancing, and she couldn’t keep her feet from bouncing as she watched Lissa and Steph. This was the first time she’d seen Lissa dance, and she added it to the other firsts—haircut, kindergarten, soccer game. The song ended and most of the floor emptied when a slow song began. Lissa moved into Steph’s arms and tears stung Carla’s eyes. They were a striking couple, and Carla hoped with all her heart they stayed together for the rest of their lives.

  “Would you like to dance?” The woman in front of her sported a wide smile and inviting brown eyes, topped by dark bangs. And looked about twelve. “I’m Kristen.” She slid onto the chair next to Carla. Okay, maybe twenty.

  “I’m Carla, and I’m here with my daughter and her girlfriend.”

  “Cool,” Kristen said. “I like older women. I’m thirty.”

  Carla didn’t know whether to be flattered or embarrassed. No one but Jamie had ever flirted with her. It was strange but nice, she decided, as Kristen amused her with stories of her job as a dog trainer.

  “So…” Kristen said as the music changed. “Dance?” She stood, flashing a smile and holding out her hand.

  Carla broke into a smile of her own and decided to do something daring. She loved to dance. Standing, she took Kristen’s hand. The feel of it—warm, soft, small—sent heat up her arm. It felt right. Not perfect. That would have taken Jamie’s hand. She wiggled her fingers at Lissa, whose mouth dropped open as she stared at her. “I’m fine,” she mouthed. Kristen stopped and Carla bumped into her back. Her breasts touched strong muscles that contracted beneath the tight blue tank top. Her nipples responded and Carla drew a deep breath. Yes. This was where she belonged. Even without Jamie.

  Kristen took the lead and they moved to the music, a boisterous song with a definite dance beat. Carla couldn’t understand the words, didn’t know the band, and hadn’t danced anything but ballroom in twenty years. Kristen held Carla’s hips and, much as Jamie had that night, guided her. She felt Lissa’s eyes on her as she tried to relax into Kristen’s hands. She put her hands on Kristen’s shoulders and melted into the sensations of soft skin and strong muscles, perfume, and women’s voices all around her. Her body hummed with excitement, a sexual excitement she didn’t know she was still capable of feeling. The disappointment and resentment she’d boarded the plane with faded a little.

  “That was fun, Carla,” Kristen said when they returned to the table. “I don’t want to monopolize your time, but if you want to dance again I’m over there with some friends.” She pointed to a table across the room.

  “Thank you.”

  Lissa’s eyes widened. Carla held up her hand. “I’m a grown-up. It’s harmless and I’m having fun.”

  “Okay, Mom, but remember, I have my phone. If you get too crazy I’m going to take pictures of you and blackmail you into letting me get a motorcycle.”

  Carla kissed Lissa on her cheek, then wiped a bit of cheese off her lip. The other two girls were funny and kept them all laughing. They’d been together about as long as Lissa and Steph, high-school sweethearts also, and Carla hoped the four of them ended up friends. Her ears stayed on the conversation flying around the tabl
e, but her eyes stayed on the dance floor.

  Questions bombarded her. Could she find someone she was attracted to? Not the way she was to Jamie but…She stopped at that thought. Hadn’t she spent twenty years in a relationship with someone she loved with all her heart but didn’t love passionately? She couldn’t do that again. Musky perfume hit her a moment before a voice said near her face, “Would you like to dance?”

  A woman about her age with spiky blond hair, slate-blue eyes, and a little too much makeup stood next to her. A sleeveless blue blouse and tight jeans showed off a nice figure. The smile was as warm as the hand on her shoulder.

  “All right,” Carla said, ignoring Lissa’s raised eyebrows. She’d have a lot of explaining to do after she and Mike talked to her about the divorce, but it would be a challenging discussion even without this night, and Carla desperately needed this.

  The music shifted from a rock beat to a slow dance tune as she and the blonde found a spot in the crowd. “My luck,” the woman said, holding up her arms. “I’m Vanessa.”

  “Carla.” She stepped into the woman’s toned arms, and as the long song evolved, the space between them disappeared until they were cheek to cheek. Conflicting emotions roiled inside Carla. Her body responded to the woman’s gentle touch, her confident lead, her perfume, the softness of her body. She absorbed the pleasure of being in this woman’s arms. If only they were the right arms. The song ended and Vanessa kissed her on the cheek. “Another?”

  Carla smiled back and nodded. They danced three more fast dances. Carla was hot and sweat trickled down her front as Vanessa walked her to her table. “I’ll be right back,” Vanessa said. Five minutes later she placed a glass of water and a fresh glass of wine in front of Carla. “Do you live in San Diego?” she asked, squatting next to Carla.

  “San Jose. I’m visiting my daughter.” She nodded toward Lissa. A slow smile and a mischievously raised eyebrow took Vanessa’s face from attractive to seriously attractive. Carla gulped.

  “Looks like we’re neighbors. I live in Los Altos. I’d love to get together with you.”

  Carla gulped again as Vanessa rubbed up and down her lower back, discreetly out of sight of Lissa.

  “My daughter’s in college back in Boston. I envy you having yours so close. Here’s my card. Call me. Soon.”

  Carla stared at her hips as she walked away. Heat rushed to her cheeks when Vanessa turned around and winked at her. She looked at the card—attorney. As a child, when Carla was upset about a fracture with a best girlfriend, her mother would say there were plenty more fish in the sea. Maybe for once her mother was right. She fingered the card as she replayed the feel of Vanessa’s hands on her.

  “Ready to go, Mom?”

  Carla closed her hand around the card. “Sure.” Her second chance with Jamie wasn’t going to happen, but maybe another chance at passion was waiting for her. Determination shoved aside her disappointment. She wasn’t waiting the rest of her life for what she wanted.

  Chapter Nine

  Carla stood at the kitchen counter, nursing her second cup of coffee. It was lukewarm, but at least it was Kona.

  Mike set aside the morning paper. “I’m sorry the job isn’t what you wanted.”

  “I am, too.” Carla wiped off the counter for the third time. “I’ll stay until Dr. Hammond can hire a replacement.”

  “You won’t have any problem finding the right job, honey.”

  Carla squeezed the sponge and fought back tears. She’d never see Jamie again. Was she being unfair? Childish? Maybe, but she couldn’t be around Jamie knowing they wouldn’t have a second chance. “Don’t forget to pick up more boxes.” Carla poured the coffee down the drain. “I want to pack stuff you don’t use all the time. Eighteen years in this house. Where did the time go?”

  Mike kissed her cheek. “Eighteen great years. I’m glad you’re keeping it. Can I have visiting privileges?”

  “Are you kidding? You’re still my plumber, lawn mower—”

  “I’m not listening.”

  Carla swatted at him as he grabbed his briefcase. She was going to miss his playfulness. Less than a month and he’d be gone. Then what would she do?

  Carla rehearsed what to say as she made the fifteen-minute drive to the office. “It’s not the right job for me.” “My skills aren’t what you need.” “I’m not a good fit with your staff.” She laughed at that one. “I’ve decided to spend more time with my daughter.” Plausible. Did it matter what excuse she gave? “I can’t work for you because I’m in love with you and you don’t remember me and you have a partner.” Her throat tightened.

  The driver behind her tapped his horn. She’d missed the light change. In the bar she’d decided to find the life she wanted, but that determination had slipped away on the flight home. She wanted love and passion and all the trimmings, but could she make room in her heart for someone else when Jamie filled up all the space? Out of sight, out of mind was the saying, right? She needed to be away from what she couldn’t have.

  Carla put her purse in her office and walked to Jamie’s office. The door was closed. She was about to knock when she heard Jamie speaking in a loud, angry-sounding voice.

  “I have talked to your legal department. That’s my point. How can I prove I didn’t commit fraud when you won’t provide me with the EOBs so I can compare what was billed with what should have been billed? I’ve called six times this month alone, and each time I have to talk to a different person and—I know I have a time limit to prove I didn’t—No, don’t put me on hold again. Damn it!”

  Carla flinched when the phone slammed down and backed away from the door when Jamie uttered another expletive. She retreated to her office, her thoughts in tatters. She wrapped her sweater tighter around her shoulders and was deep in thought when a voice startled her.

  “You don’t have to come in early.” Jamie’s voice was tight and she looked tired.

  Carla gripped the edge of the desk to keep from wrapping her in a hug. That was someone else’s job. “I like the quiet before everyone comes in.” Maybe tomorrow would be a better day to tell her she was leaving. “Gives me a chance to get a jump on the billing before I have to put out fires.” She could at least get the billings caught up before she told her.

  “Never a dull moment. Betty’s last day is Friday. Will you be all right on your own?”

  The perfect opening. Carla hesitated.

  “If not…” Jamie’s face tightened, and her brown eyes were full of worry.

  “I’ll be fine, Dr. Hammond.” Jamie’s face relaxed, and Carla created a smile she hoped looked genuine. The smile faded as the truth she’d been avoiding poked through. Deep down she wanted to help Jamie. Deep down she wanted a little more time with her. She trembled. She wanted so much to tell Jamie they’d met once. She wanted her to say, “Oh, my gosh. I didn’t recognize you. Of course I remember that night.” If she laughed and said, “We had some fun, didn’t we?” that would be enough.

  *

  Sitting in her chair, Jamie stared at her father’s picture. One problem solved, Dad. Now, how did she solve her relationship problem?

  All weekend she’d been plagued by loneliness—not just short-term, Sheryl’s-gone-for-the-weekend loneliness, but a deep sense of aloneness she realized had been there for a while. She fingered the blue mug with What’s Up, Doc? hand-lettered on the side in Penni’s curly script and took a sip of the lukewarm coffee. It would be terrible even if it were hot. Would the end of the embezzlement problem breathe new life into her relationship? It had to. She couldn’t shake the feeling they were in trouble.

  Sheryl had come home jazzed by her seminar, but instead of sharing what happened with Jamie over dinner and a glass of wine, she’d given her a quick kiss on the cheek and said she needed to work while it was all fresh in her mind. She’d still been typing away in the office when Jamie went to bed. How had they ended up living their lives in separate rooms of their home?

  Jamie looked at the stack of patient files
on her desk. It seemed taller every day this mess went on. She was tired of arguing with insurance companies. She was tired of losing precious time with Sheryl. Wasn’t she supposed to be reaping the rewards of middle age instead of struggling everywhere in her life? Fighting to hang on to what she’d worked for? What mattered? She turned up the volume on the iPod and didn’t care if it boomed through the clinic. Her first patient was still an hour away.

  Chapter Ten

  Jamie heard someone come in the back door as she stood in Carla’s office, searching through patient files, pulling out ones she wanted to examine. She tossed another one on the pile. Without the EOBs, she was looking for a needle in a haystack, and she was tired of making calls to the insurance companies that left her feeling like she’d already been tried and convicted. How could she not have noticed EOBs were missing from patient files? Or had Marjorie known she was about to get caught and tried to cover her tracks by destroying them? She clenched her jaw, barely containing the urge to punch the file cabinet. She could lose everything she’d worked for. Why had Marjorie done this to her?

  She took a sip of coffee and grimaced. It was an insult to drink, but the caffeine kept her going. Maybe she should turn over more of the burden to her accountant. She slammed the file cabinet shut. No. She’d allowed this mess to happen right under her nose, and she was going to clean it up. The room smelled faintly of Carla’s perfume and she paused for a moment, resting her hand on the sweater draped over her chair.

  “Good morning.”

  Jamie startled. Carla was standing in the doorway in the same suit and peach blouse she’d worn to the interview. Not even two weeks, but it seemed like she’d always been here.

  “What? Do I have lipstick on my blouse?”

  Jamie realized she’d been staring. “No.” She picked up her coffee and the files and backed out of the office, trying not to brush against Carla. “You really don’t have to come in early.”