Jill bit her lip, just barely holding back her new favorite response. Instead, she smiled and

lightly touched Mindy's arm.

"Thanks for your concern, Mindy, but I'm fine. Really."

"So you and Craig, you're not... well, you're not separating?"

It's none of your goddamn business.

Again she smiled. "Our personal life... well, it's personal. You understand."

"Okay, then." She stepped away. "Good. Well, again, if you need to talk," she said.

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

But her easy smile vanished as soon as Mindy walked away. These people—these women—

who she had called friends, weren't really, she realized. They were just acquaintances she

saw sporadically at games and on the rare occasions they shared a meal. And Mindy's offer

as a confidant now was based more on curiosity than concern.

And with that revelation came another. She did indeed need to open the second bottle of

wine.

"The burgers were great, babe."

Jill flicked her eyes at him, cringing at the endearment she'd grown to detest. "Thanks."

"But you're not really having a good time, are you?"

She smiled. "Why? Can you tell I'm sitting here, praying I get teleported to Hawaii or

something?"

"That bad?"

"Craig, I know you want some normalcy in your life but having this party didn't change

anything," she said softly. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "Angie had a good time. I haven't seen her this happy in months."

Jill nodded. "I know. And I realize how this is wearing on her. I really do." She took a deep

breath. "Maybe it's time we made some decisions instead of continuing like we are," she

said gently.

She saw him swallow, saw his eyes close and she truly felt sorry for him.

"You mean like divorce?" he finally asked.

She nodded but he shook his head.

"I'm not ready to talk about that, Jill. Can we just not talk about that now?"

She nodded again. "Okay, Craig."

He stood. "Do you still want to go to the fireworks?"

"I think I'll bow out, if you don't mind."

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his shorts, his eyes hinting at his inner turmoil.

"Sure. I understand. I'll take Angie and her friends then run them home afterward." He

motioned to the yard. "Don't worry about all this. I'll clean it up in the morning."

She nodded and forced herself up, forced herself to go through the motions of telling

everyone good-bye, and she graciously accepted the words of thanks that were tossed her

way as their guests left. And in a matter of minutes, quiet prevailed and she was left alone.

Even Arlene left without a parting comment. No doubt she was still smarting from their

earlier conversation.

Now alone, Jill went about the task of cleaning up the kitchen and putting away the

leftovers. And despite Craig's directive about the backyard, Jill tidied the deck enough so

that she could sit in the swing.

And think.

Her wine had been replaced by a bottle of water and she slipped off her sandals, sitting

barefoot as she put the swing in motion. Darkness had chased the light from the sky and

she knew the fireworks would soon follow. Even now, sporadic bursts could be heard in the

distance.

She relaxed for the first time all day, letting the motion of the swing soothe her. Her

earlier consumption of wine had mellowed her mood to nearly the point of contentment. So

finally, at last, she allowed her thoughts free rein, allowed visions of Carrie to form, to

grow... to consume her.

Any doubts that lingered about their relationship were dispelled today. Even though she

and Craig were able to function somewhat normally together, were able to talk and tease

even, didn't change the fact that she was in love with someone else.

And how it came to be that she could find herself so totally in love with another woman,

she didn't have clue. She only knew her heart belonged to Carrie. Not Craig.

With that, she accepted the inevitable.

She would file for divorce.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

After the long three-day weekend, Jill was in more of a hurry than usual to get to the

cottage. She closed the gate behind her as she drove down the driveway, glad she'd worn a

sleeveless blouse with her slacks today. It was sunny and hot but even then, she'd prefer

to have lunch in the shade of the garden rather than inside.

But Carrie was nowhere to be found when she got out. She looked down to the pier but it

was empty. So was the tiny table they'd placed under the trees by the flower garden.

She knocked once on the sun porch door then went inside. The interior door to the cottage

was closed and she assumed Carrie had the air conditioning on today.

"Carrie?" she called as she stuck her head inside.

"Here."

Carrie was sitting in the dark, her head leaned back on the loveseat.

"What's wrong?" Jill asked, walking closer and rubbing her shoulder.

"I'm all right."

But when she looked at Jill, her eyes were filled with pain.

"Are you feeling ill?"

Carrie closed her eyes. "I've had this damn migraine all weekend. Nothing I take seems to

help."

Jill sat down beside her, touching her face. "You feel warm. Do you think you have a

fever?"

Carrie took her hand and squeezed and pulled it to her. "I'll be fine now that you're here."

"Well, I don't have a lot of experience with migraines but I do know you're supposed to be

in a dark, quiet room." She stood, pulling Carrie up. "Come on. Lie down in the bedroom. I'll

make a cold compress for your head."

"Will you stay with me?"

"Of course. Come on."

Jill pulled the covers back and helped Carrie remove the shorts she was struggling with.

After closing all the blinds, she untied the drapes, letting them fall to keep out even more

light. Then she soaked two hand towels in cold water. One, she put in the freezer for

future use, the other, she placed across Carrie's forehead.

"That feels good," Carrie murmured.

Jill crawled in beside her, sitting up against the pillows and lightly rubbing Carrie's head.

She smiled as Carrie moaned and continued her ministrations, pressing harder around

Carrie's temples, trying to ease her pain.

"You know, you've been complaining of headaches a lot lately," Jill commented. "Is that

unusual for you?"

Carrie opened her eyes briefly then shut them again. "Just allergies," she said. "Some

years are worse than others."

Jill leaned down and kissed the top of her head, then settled back against the pillows again,

her fingers continuing to massage Carrie's scalp. Before long, Carrie's even breathing

signaled that she had fallen asleep. Jill watched her, noting the frown that marred her

features, even in sleep.

Finally, as the clock ticked nearer to two, Jill eased out of bed. In the kitchen, she got the

cold compress out of the freezer and returned to the bedroom. Carrie had shifted, rolling

to her side as if searching for Jill. She took the wet cloth from her head, replacing it with

the one from the freezer. Carrie moaned once but didn't wake. Jill kissed her lightly on

the cheek then moved away. As an afterthought, she took Carrie's cell phone from her

purse and turned it on, then placed it beside the bed. She would call her later, just to make

sure she didn't sleep the afternoon away.

"I love you," she whispered as she kissed her cheek one last time before leaving.

But she didn't even make it back to the office before her own cell rang.

"I woke up and you were gone."

"I was hoping to sneak away quietly so you could sleep longer," she said.

Carrie chuckled. "Who could sleep with an ice cube on their head? But I feel better. I

guess your cold compress helped."

"Good."

"I'm sorry I messed up our lunch."

"You didn't mess it up. We were together."

Carrie paused. "How was the party?"

"Oh, it was ... it was tolerable. No, that's not even the right word. I survived it, I guess I

should say. But I almost felt like I wasn't really there, you know? Like my body was there

but I wasn't. Like I no longer belonged there."

"Is that how you feel? Like you don't belong there?"

"Yes, that's how I feel." She cleared her throat, thinking this conversation should be had

in person and not over the phone but she didn't want to wait any longer. "Carrie, I'm going

to file for divorce."

Carrie was silent for only a moment before Jill heard her take a deep breath. "Jill, I want

us to be together. If you're serious about doing that, then I want us to be together."

Jill slowed as she turned into the parking lot. She stopped and turned off the car, her hand

gripping the phone tightly.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yes. I'm prepared for whatever fallout there may be. I'm not concerned about James,

just my boys. But sweetheart, are you prepared? Have you really thought all this out?

Angie? Your family?"

"I can't go on like this, Carrie. I just can't."

"Okay. Okay." She sighed and Jill thought she heard the tiniest of moans.

"Headache back?"

"Yeah. We'll talk about this tomorrow. I think I'm just going to lie down for a little longer."

"Good. Do you want me to give you a wake-up call later?"

"That'd be nice. I love you, Jill," she murmured before disconnecting.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

"Where the hell did this come from?" Jill said out loud as the downpour began. Out the

window of her car, she saw the dark clouds gathering to the north and she turned her

wipers on faster. She would be soaked. Her umbrella was hanging on the coat rack in her

office. They hadn't seen rain in weeks.

She was thankful for the remote Carrie had given her for the gate as she pushed the

button, waiting for it to open before driving through. She pushed it again, closing the gate

behind her and driving on through the rain. But at the cottage, she was surprised to find

the driveway empty.

Dodging water puddles as she ran along the path, she hurried into the sun porch and out of

the rain. Inside, it was dark and quiet, no sign that Carrie had been there yet today. She

pulled her cell phone out, debating whether to call her or not. She thought better of it, in

case Carrie was someplace where she couldn't talk.

She busied herself with lunch, foregoing their normal fare of sandwiches when she found

soup in the pantry. But as the clock ticked closer to one thirty, she began to worry. Again,

she picked up her phone, but again, she decided against calling.

And only moments later she heard Carrie's van, heard the door slam. She walked into the

sunroom, waiting. Carrie rounded the corner, their eyes meeting through the windows. Jill

knew immediately that something was wrong.

"Sorry I'm late," Carrie said. She moved into Jill's arms and Jill pulled her close.

"What's wrong?"

"I was at the doctor," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, you know, these damn headaches I've been having."

Jill took her arm and led her into the cottage, easing her down on a bar stool. "Have they

been worse?" she asked as she ran her fingers through her damp hair.

"Unbearable lately."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Carrie shook her head. "I didn't want you to worry. They did a ton of tests. I've been

there all morning. They did a CAT-scan too. But the symptoms are like a damn sinus

headache," she said as she rubbed her forehead.

"When will you know something?"

"Probably not until Monday." She wrapped her arm around Jill's waist and pulled her closer.

"But don't worry, okay. It's probably just my allergies in overdrive."

But Jill did worry. Try as she may, Carrie couldn't hide the pain in her eyes. And for the