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"I'll miss you," Nadine said, looking up at Rainey and biting her lip. They were standing beside her Subaru at his place, where she'd stopped on her way out of town.
"Go and sell the shit out of that book and just think -- next time, we'll be going out together."
Nadine wasn't looking forward to the two-week book tour she was embarking on for "Gemini Descending". Usually book tours were a break from routine -- but now that "routine" was Rainey, not Leroy, she didn't need the break as she once had. "Next time!" she said brightly. "I'll spread the word about our work in progress."
"Atta girl!" He planted a kiss on her lips, smiling back at her. In the last few weeks, her relationship with Mort seemed to have given him a new confidence.
Shooter hadn't manifested since Rainey had awakened in her bed. Nadine had mixed feelings; her collaborator seemed to be whole and happy, and she was glad for that. At the same time, she missed Shooter, missed hearing his soft southern voice and his uninhibited lovemaking -- although Rainey was making steady improvement in that area. It was surprising how different they were, even if it was the same body. Mort was shyer, like a dog that's been kicked a few times. Once she got him loosened up, though, he definitely had the right stuff.
"Take good care of yourself," she told him. "Good luck rewriting that beast, we can get back to work on ours when I get back." The manuscript Rainey had asked her to look at had possibilities; she'd given it back with whole chapters "X'ed out", written suggestions to expand on underdeveloped ideas, offered ideas for changes. It was certainly enough to keep him out of trouble for a couple weeks. "You've got my e-mail address, use it!"
"Be safe!" Mort told her with a final kiss as she climbed into the Subaru and waved goodbye.
The smile faded from her face as she drove away. Maybe this was what she needed right now, a chance to get away from him? Them? That was the trouble, she wasn't sure any more. Part of her felt like she was betraying Shoot by being intimate with Rainey, but that was crazy -- they were the same person! Technically, anyway. It was the same body; but the personalities involved were so different. (The same very attractive body...umm, umm!) It felt good to be with Rainey and not have to guard herself. She and Shooter had shared a secret between themselves; now there was no secret. She wasn't even sure there was a Shooter, anymore.
Nadine remembered that last evening with Shoot, thought of how he'd warned her off, and of that final, tumultuous afternoon. He'd known Rainey was changing....had he deliberately made love to her, knowing he wouldn't last? It would be like him, doing what he had to, til the very end. (I wish he'd said something... He did. He said, "I love you so much". What more do you want for last words?)
Maybe Rainey needed time to himself as well. Whatever was going on behind those gentle brown eyes was ultimately his to deal with; there was only so much she could do for him. Whoever Rainey was going to be in the end, whatever compromise he was going to reach with Shooter, he had to work out for himself. "He knows I love him," she murmured to the steering wheel. "Doesn't he?"
But it had been Shooter who'd heard her passionate declaration. She still hadn't found the courage to say it to Rainey, for the simple reason that it was...well, Rainey. They'd had a relationship for months, but not That Kind of relationship. They wrote well together -- hell, this was probably some of the best stuff either of them had ever done; Nadine would've been happy to collaborate with him again (and again, and again!) -- but did she really love him?
She had a little over two weeks to think about it.
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Seventeen days later, Nadine pulled into Rainey's driveway with a sense of anticipation that surprised her. Home might be across the cove, but this was where her heart was. She'd barely turned off the engine when Rainey dashed out of the cabin to welcome her. It was Rainey -- wasn't it?
Nadine couldn't quite tell from the way he moved. Shooter's long-legged grace was evident, but as he hopped down the porch steps, he popped his jaw in a way she'd seen Rainey do a hundred times. The big hug he folded her into was as snug as any of Shooter's, but when he said, "God, I've missed you, Nadine!", there was no trace of an accent.
"I missed you, too," she said, and it was true, she had. She'd found herself firing off e-mails at every opportunity, and the little skip her heart gave every time she got a reply answered the big question she'd left with.
He met her eyes, smiled. "I've got a surprise for you," he teased.
"A jar of peach preserves?" she wondered out loud.
Rainey laughed and gave her a warm grin. "Close! It's not animal or mineral."
"Okay...." (Did he catch that reference, or no? Shoot would, Rainey definitely wouldn't.)
She followed him inside and he led her into the kitchen, where a dozen trays of seedlings waited. "Tomatoes," he said proudly. "Three different kinds. What do you think?"
Thinking of Shooter working in the garden brought a lump to her throat. "Homemade spaghetti sauce," she said promptly. "Ketchup. Goulash, chili, stuffed tomatoes. Good thing I like tomatoes, huh?"
"Good thing," he agreed, hugging her. (Shoot IS in there, and I think he's happy....)
"Your last e-mail -- I liked your idea for the scene with Bobbie's dad," she said, briskly changing the subject before she got all teary-eyed. "Is that gonna be in Chapter 22?"
"I hadn't planned that far, I was tweaking Russell's dialogue in the scene with Abigail and I added a few details about Walter and Hubert."
"Okay, let's take a look."
"Slaver driver! You haven't been back ten minutes and you're already cracking the whip. What did your readers say when they heard about our project?"
Nadine rolled her eyes. "Mass hysteria," she said. "If even half the people who said they'd buy it actually do buy it, we're going to be on the bestseller list for a long, long time."
"Great. I'll get us some tea, you go unpack your whip."
Once she got up to the loft, the first thing Nadine did was to check the printer tray. To her surprise, the stack of papers lying there had a title page, not a chapter heading, and bore no relation to their book or his. "Catfish Sonata", she read. Below that, written in black ink were the words, "For Nadine".
"Across the road, the bulldozers were tearing up McGinty's pasture for a strip mall. Gloria could hardly hear her student's finger exercise over the dreadful roar of machinery."
Nadine read on as Gloria's husband appeared, slapped the student because her mother was behind in paying for piano lessons, and drove off in his 4x4, boat in tow, to go fishing. After his departure, Gloria's character was revealed in flashbacks as she spent hours washing the kitchen floor on her hands and knees. Music was in her soul, but she'd given up a prestigeous scholarship to marry a man who didn't appreciate her, much less understand the magnitude of her sacrifice. There was abuse -- Nadine winced at the familiarity. One beating resulted in a miscarriage and an emergency hysterectomy -- Nadine's hand unconsciously found its way to her belly -- and the realization that her students were all the children she'd ever have. She reduced her ambition to teaching, although her husband didn't approve.
When Gloria's husband returned, it was late evening, and raining hard. He was on foot and in a terrible temper. His boat had rammed a stump and sank, his truck wouldn't start, and he'd had to walk four miles home and he by-God wanted his dinner, woman, so cook up these catfish and be quick about it As Gloria cleaned the fish and started to fry them up, he continued to rant. There was no reason for Gloria to spend all day teaching music to a bunch of dumb kids. It wasn't like they needed the money. From now on, she was going to knock off all this artsy-fartsy nonsense and concentrate on being a good wife.
Gloria killed him with one blow from the old cast-iron skillet, and she didn't regret that half so much as having to mop up the mess of fried catfish and brains from her clean kitchen floor. Nadine accepted the glass of iced tea Rainey handed her with a wide-eyed look at him, then returned to the story.
During the raging downpour, Gloria buried her husband at the construction site across the road where they'd soon be pouring concrete. She'd report him as missing on a fishing trip, and with the discovery of the truck and the sunken boat, he'd be presumed dead and her life would carry on, much more peacefully than before.
She turned to the final page.
"The sky was bright blue and the June sun was drying the mud. From the construction site arose the caccophony of a cement mixer. The sound was music to her ears."
A couple inches below the last line of print, another handwritten note. "I told you I'd kill him for you."
The manuscript fell to the floor as Nadine, tears streaking her cheeks, took refuge in Rainey's arms. "That's quite a story," she said, between giggles and sobs. "I thought the skillet was a nice touch."
"Me too." He stroked her hair with a caress she'd missed.
"I love you, Rainey."
His hug grew a little tighter. "I love you, too -- Miss Nadine."
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Friday: The ending is the most important part! Includes Nadine, Mort, the garden, a shovel, and the truth about Amy.
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