Part 17 (1/2)

Callie sat there and stared at the women who were now talking quietly to one another while the rest of the guests tried to act as though they weren't watching them. Regan had said Angela was beautiful, and she was much prettier in person than she appeared in the photo Regan carried. She was a little taller than Regan, but that could have been because of her shoes. Even on Memorial Day, she dressed like she was going to a conference in business-casual attire. What a dumb name. But that's how Marina dressed too. Women in power didn't seem to have jeans and T-s.h.i.+rts.

Angela's broad shoulders in a white linen blouse made her look imposing. She was the kind of woman who looked like she owned the place, even though she'd almost been thrown out. Marina had that too. The unflappable calm that let them look like they were in charge even when they weren't.

They were almost nose to nose and when Regan jerked back and forth as she made each point, her straight, dark ponytail bounced. She didn't have a two hundred dollar blouse on, or linen slacks that barely had a wrinkle in them. Her worn, white, golf s.h.i.+rt had shrunk so much it barely covered the waistband of her pale red shorts, and her battered deck shoes looked like she might have had them since high school. But none of that mattered. She was Angela's equal.

Something about Regan made you want to look at her, and her alone. Angela was beautiful and very compelling, and had probably spent a long time that day trying to look both elegant and casual, but Regan outshone her with almost no effort.

Maybe it was her height and the casual grace she showed when she moved-a fluid, athletic grace let her glide around more like a dancer than a runner.

But it was more than that. Somehow her maturity and her poise made her seem worldly and mature. Even though Angela was thirteen years older and had a very important position in the business world, Regan looked so comfortable standing next to her that she could have been her boss.

Regan's eyes flashed angrily, and she started to use her hand to gesture in Angela's direction a few times, finally pointing her finger and poking it into Angela's chest. As soon as she did that Angela put her hand on Regan's back, opened the door, and led her outside. When that happened everyone inside started talking louder and more excitedly. The entire group was talking about Angela and wondering how she got the nerve to show up at a big family party. But it made perfect sense when you thought about it for a minute. You just didn't let a woman like Regan get away without putting up a h.e.l.l of a fight. If you had to show up someplace you weren't welcome-you sucked it up and did it. You had to fight for her. You'd be an idiot if you didn't.

Angela and Regan faced each other under the warm sun, the blacktop of the parking lot simmering under their feet. ”I've never seen you look so angry,” Angela said, her lush, full voice soft against the silence.

”I'm d.a.m.ned angry.” Regan's eyes were dark and focused so intently they seemed like they could burn. ”How do you have the nerve to waltz into my party? I haven't heard a peep from you since the day I moved out.”

”Are you angry that I didn't call earlier or that I'm here now?”

”Both!” Regan saw her hands reach out to push Angela away, to knock the calm, self-a.s.sured look off her face. But some part of her body had the sense to back up and let her outstretched hands press against nothing but air. ”Why couldn't you just leave me alone?” She felt her anger leave in a whoosh, replaced by an ache that seemed to blanket her heart. ”I'm almost over you.” That sounded like a complete lie and Angela would know it.

Reaching out with a tentative hand, Angela lightly touched Regan's shoulder. Her eyes were warm, her expression filled with empathy. ”Don't get over me. Please.” The last word was whispered, said so softly that Regan could only see it on Angela's lips. ”I'll never be over you.”

”You've been over me for months.” Months! Not days. Not weeks. Not one word for months. It'd been like a death. A death that she had mourned. Now the corpse showed up and said it had been hiding.

”That's not true.” Angela put her hand on Regan's shoulder once again and decisively led her to the entryway for the banquet room.

It was cool and quiet in the bright room, and both women stood for a moment, relis.h.i.+ng the break from the heat. Angela kept guiding Regan, and they wound up sitting in the lovely garden, with the gentle, calming sounds of water cascading down the boulders. Regan took in a deep breath, smelling the sweet scents of jasmine and honeysuckle.

In her normal efficient style, Angela picked up right where she'd left off. ”I didn't waste your time making excuses, and that's all I could have done at first. I know you. You're never interested in hearing promises. You want to see results.”

Blankly, Regan asked, ”Results? What results?”

”I've made some changes. Big changes.”

”Like what?” Regan gazed at her warily. How could she look just the same? Hadn't this changed her forever? How could a dead woman keep talking like they'd just been apart because of a business trip?

”I found a very good therapist. I told her how I'd ruined a relations.h.i.+p I was devastated about, and she's helping me figure a lot of things out.”

”Go on.”

”I'm seeing her twice a week, and when I travel I call her and we have our session on the phone. I haven't missed one.”

Therapy? For Angela? She'd rather have had her fingernails pulled out. She had to have changed a ton to let a stranger into her head. But how could anyone change that much? She was guarded with almost everyone. But she seemed sincere. More open.

”That's good. Therapy can really help you see your patterns.”

”Right. That's a good way to put it. Carole has helped me see how so much of my behavior is harmful to a good relations.h.i.+p. She suggested I start taking a meditation cla.s.s, and that's helped me relax at night. I'm sleeping better too, I don't have to read until I collapse.”

That was impossible. Insomnia clung to Angela like her clothes. She'd be lying in bed, reading some journal, acting like it was vital to learn whatever was in it by morning. No one could function on as little sleep as she did. No one could put you off for ajust a few minutes' to finish an article like she did every time there was a hint of s.e.xual energy in the room. But she could accomplish almost anything that she put her mind to. Maybe even learn how to sleep. ”That's good. You must feel better.”

”I do.” She looked at Regan with her dark brown eyes, so full of warmth and caring. ”But I miss you so, so much.”

”I miss you too.”

”You do?” Light glimmered in her eyes, and a small smile bloomed.

”Of course I do. I was going to be with you until I died, Angela. I was going to have a baby with you. How could I not miss you?”

Angela's head dropped, and Regan spent a moment looking at how her glossy hair shone in the late afternoon sun. Angela spent a lot of time and money getting her hair to look just like she wanted it. Now it looked marvelous. So soft and touchable. She had a desire to reach out and caress it, then slide her hand down to Angela's jaw and feel her swallow. Feel the warmth of her skin, her pulse point beating against her fingers. But that was over. She shook her head to dispel those dangerous thoughts and concentrate on the present.

”Carole's not an expert, so she's recommended a s.e.x therapist. If you're willing-I'm ready to commit to going until we fix our problems.”

Bitterly, Regan heard herself snap, ”So you finally admit we had problems. Nice timing.”

”It's awful timing. I know that. But we did have problems. Big ones. Actually,” she said, taking a breath, ”I'm the one with the problem. You were always ready to make love.” Her head hung again, vulnerability radiating from her. Regan's hand lifted and hovered for just a second. But Angela lifted her head and squared her shoulders, in charge once again. ”I'll fix whatever's broken. That's a promise.”

”But how do you fix something like your s.e.x drive?”

”I don't know. But if it can be fixed, I'll fix it. There's a solution to every problem. You just have to throw enough time and manpower into it.”

”Manpower? I don't think that's the solution to this one.”

”You know what I mean. I can overcome any obstacle if I work hard enough.”

”I'm not sure that's true. You can't make me trust you again, and that's the biggest problem.”

”Yes I can,” she said with fervor. ”I've talked to my pastor and my parents and most of my friends. I've told everyone what I've done to you. I've shamed myself, Regan. Uncovered my soul to all of the people I respect. They'll all be watching to make sure I've learned my lesson.”

This was a revelation of the greatest magnitude. Angela's reputation was her most prized possession. She'd always been the model daughter, and admitting her failings to her parents had to be unfathomably painful. ”Wow,” Regan said quietly. ”That must have been rough.”

A sliver of a smile showed. ”You have no idea. But I sinned against you and the only way to be forgiven is to throw light on my faults.”

”Couldn't you just ask G.o.d to forgive you?”

Angela smiled, a gentle, patient expression that nearly melted Regan's heart. She had the most beautiful smile when she showed this side of herself. This was the lovable, almost irresistible woman she'd fallen for. From that first day they'd met, this was the open, kind smile that drew her in. ”I sinned against you, not G.o.d. It's your forgiveness that I need.”

”So why did you have to tell everyone what happened?”

”For insurance. I swear I'll never be unfaithful again, but I broke that promise once. Having all of the most important people in my life know will help keep me honest. Having secrets is bad for me. I realize that now.” A flicker of a smile showed. ”I came out at work.”

”No!”

”Yeah, I did. No more secrets.”

Unable to hold back, Regan gave her a quick, heartfelt hug. ”I'm proud of you.”