“Hi, Les,” Dev said.
“My guess is this isn’t a coincidence.” Leslie suspected her displeasure showed
in her voice, because Dev shrugged apologetically.
“Your mother’s Jeep is on the fritz, and since I’m staying at the lodge, I offered
to pick you up. Sorry.”
“No, I appreciate it. Thanks.” Unconsciously, Leslie studied her the way she
would a prospective witness, searching for the whole truth, the real story. It
disturbed her when she couldn’t read anything in Dev’s face. “I hope you didn’t
go out of your way.”
“No. I was in the area.” Dev lifted Leslie’s suitcase. “My truck’s over here.”
“Would you mind waiting just a minute while I get a cup of coffee in the station?
Whatever they were trying to pass off as coffee on the train was undrinkable.”
“Sure. That black Chevy is mine.”
“Can I get you anything?”
“A Coke would be great. Thanks.”
God, this is going to be an interminable ride home, Leslie thought as she
stood in line at the coffee bar. Maybe I should rethink my plans for this visit
if we might run into each other again.
“Large black coffee and a Coke, please,” Leslie said automatically while
checking her BlackBerry for messages. She didn’t give a second thought to the
fact that she was supposed to limit her coffee consumption. Upon her release
from the hospital the previous afternoon, part of the discharge instructions had
been no caffeine—along with an admonition to avoid chocolate, get plenty of
rest, reduce her stress level, and schedule the follow-up tests as soon as
possible. She’d also been given a prescription for a blood pressure med and
verapamil, which was supposed to keep her heart rate from rising too rapidly.
Thus far, her only form of compliance had been to limit her morning coffee to
three cups instead of Þ ve.
• 40 •
WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE
The fact was, she felt perfectly Þ ne.
By the time she’d gotten home the night before, she’d decided that the severity
of the entire episode had been vastly exaggerated. Whatever had happened
could easily be chalked up to a few days of excessive stress and poor eating
habits. Since she’d already cleared her calendar, and she’d still be able to work
while upstate, she decided to go through with her plans to spend a week or two
with her parents. Other than that, as far as she was concerned it was back to
business as usual.
As she carried the drinks to the truck, she observed Dev through the window. If
they had passed in the parking lot, Leslie wasn’t sure she would have
recognized her, although she certainly would have given her an appreciative
glance. Her hair was still on the shaggy side, but Dev had Þ lled out and grown
another inch or two, and she’d been taller than Leslie even in high school. Back
then Dev had been wiry and wild, and now she was broad shouldered and
muscular looking in her white button-down-collar shirt and black jeans. It
wasn’t just Dev’s body that had changed. They had once shared effortless
communication, but now all she felt was a distant reserve. That was good,
because the last thing she wanted was a trip down memory lane.
“Here you go.” Leslie passed the Coke across the passenger compartment
before grasping the handle above the door and climbing into the truck. Her skirt
rode up to mid-thigh before she had a chance to pull it down, but she noticed
out of the corner of her eye that Dev stared straight ahead out the windshield.
Leslie was slightly and quite irrationally annoyed at being pointedly ignored, not
that she wanted Dev to pay that kind of attention to her.
“Thanks.” Dev slotted the Coke into the cup holder on the dash and started the
truck. She pulled out of the parking lot, rapidly maneuvered the bypasses
around Albany and Troy, and headed north on Interstate 87.
Fifteen minutes passed in silence before Dev said, “Your mother tells me you’re
a lawyer.”
“Yes. I’m a partner in a law Þ rm in Manhattan.”
“Partner already. You must’ve worked your ass off,” Dev said, duly impressed.
“Not really,” Leslie said, unbuttoning her blazer as the cab warmed up in the late
afternoon sun. She wore an off-white silk shell beneath it, conscious of the fact
that a hint of her lace bra showed through when her blazer was open. Whereas
Dev felt like a stranger— was a
• 41 •
RADCLY fFE
stranger—Leslie was acutely conscious of her presence. Even if she had known
nothing about her, Leslie would have assumed she was a lesbian. Dev was
undeniably attractive in a rough, earthy kind of way.
But the last thing in the world she wanted was for Dev Weber to have the
slightest indication that she found her attractive.
Dev looked in Leslie’s direction for the Þ rst time, her expression one of mild
disbelief at Leslie’s easy dismissal of her accomplishments.
Dev’s glance drifted down, taking in Leslie’s long legs, sleek beneath her sheer
silk stockings, and the swell of her breasts beneath silk and lace. Leslie had
turned into the beautiful woman that the lovely teenager had foreshadowed.
Maybe it was the unexpected juxtaposition of the woman upon her memory of
the girl, because Dev ventured into territory she had never meant to revisit.
“What happened to landscape architecture?”
Taken by surprise at the question very few people in her life knew her well
enough to ask, Leslie laughed harshly. “I haven’t thought of that in ages. It was
just one of those things that kids think they want before they know anything
about life. Once I got to college, everything changed.”
No, Dev wanted to say, it changed long before that. But then she realized that
was just her truth, not Leslie’s.
“So you like what you’re doing?” Dev asked, hoping to Þ ll the time with safe
conversation until they reached the lake and could politely go their separate
ways once more.
“I don’t know that I’d say I like it,” Leslie said, “but it’s satisfying.”
She grinned. “I like winning cases. So what about you? Are you running the
store for your parents now?”
“No, they Þ nally sold the place and moved to Florida about six years ago.”
Leslie’s question brought home to Dev how little they knew of one another now.
There might have been a time when they’d understood each other without
words, but now there was nothing between them. “I’m working up at the lake
this summer, though. I’m a biologist.”
“You’re kidding,” Leslie said before she could catch herself.
“Jesus, I’m sorry. That was rude.”
Not insulted, Dev laughed as she exited onto Route 9 North, the twisting twolane
lake road that she once could have driven from memory. “No. I don’t
blame you. I’m sure it’s nothing anyone who knew me in high school would’ve
guessed I’d be doing.”
• 42 •
WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE
“I just never remember you being interested in that kind of thing.”
“I wasn’t.”
“So what caused the big switch?”
Dev swung into the driveway to Lakeview and parked in the lot beside Eileen
Harris’s Jeep. She shifted on the seat and met Leslie’s curious gaze. “After the
accident I couldn’t do much more than read, and studying kept my mind
occupied.”
Leslie paled at the unexpected reference to a time she assiduously avoided
thinking about. Ambushed by guilt and regret, she felt a sudden need for air. She
yanked the door handle up and stepped out in front of her childhood home. The
rambling, three-story white clapboard house with its wraparound porches and
gabled upper windows looked just the same as it always had. Her mother, also
seemingly unchanged in jeans and a sweater Leslie thought might once have
been hers, waved from the front porch. On the far side of the parking lot the
grassy slope led down to the boathouse. The boathouse. There were some
things she couldn’t forget, no matter how much she wanted to.
Leslie looked back into the truck. “I’m sorry. So sorry. I’d undo it all if I
could.”
As Dev watched Leslie walk quickly away from her and the painful past that
had suddenly resurfaced, she heard the words she’d never be able to forget.
She’s nothing to me. She’s nobody.
And still, even knowing she’d been wrong about everything, she’d never wanted
to change any of it. Dev climbed from the truck, pulled Leslie’s luggage from
behind the seat, and started toward the lodge.
Leslie’s parting words, in the past and the present, reminded her more
powerfully than any blow that she and Leslie had never shared the same dream.
It had all been in her mind. A Þ ction created from her own need and foolish
hopes.
Thankfully, those long-ago dreams had been put to rest, but she was still going
to need to Þ nd another place to stay. She had never expected that seeing Leslie
again would hurt quite so much.
• 43 •
• 44 •
WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE
CHAPTER FIVE
Leslie stopped a step below her mother and tried to decipher the expression in
her mother’s eyes. Despite the fact that it was only a three-hour trip, Leslie
hadn’t been home in over three years, and the last visit had been only for a few
hours one Christmas. She’d never had to lie about the reason for her absence.
She always had work to do, even if that was only a convenient excuse. There
was warmth in her mother’s eyes, but wariness too. After Leslie left for college
they’d lost the easy companionability they’d had when Leslie was a teenager.
No, Leslie reminded herself, after you decided to go to law school.
“Hi, Mom,” Leslie said.
Eileen wrapped her arms around Leslie’s shoulders and hugged her. “Hi, honey.
I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up.”
Leslie felt the stiffness in her mother’s embrace and imagined that her own body
felt much the same. “That’s okay. I didn’t give you any notice, after all.”
“Well,” Eileen said, looking past Leslie down the gravel walk,
“I’m glad Dr. Weber was able to give you a ride.”
Leslie turned just as Dev reached her, Leslie’s briefcase under her arm and the
suitcase in her hand. “Dr. Weber?”
Dev shrugged, coloring faintly. “Not the regular kind.”
“You didn’t need to bring my luggage up,” Leslie said, reaching for the suitcase.
“No problem,” Dev replied, climbing the stairs. “Where do you want them?”
“Your old room’s available,” Leslie’s mother said, “if you want it.
• 45 •
RADCLY fFE
I don’t rent that one out unless I really need to, and the lodge isn’t full now.
You’d have plenty of privacy.”
Not if Rachel manages to come up, Leslie thought. There was no way she was
going to subject Rachel to her mother’s scrutiny or have sex in her childhood
bedroom. That wasn’t exactly the way she wanted to introduce her mother to
the idea that she had a girlfriend.
Plus, even if Rachel didn’t visit, she didn’t want to spend two weeks in the
constant company of her parents and be faced with the subtle disappointment in
their eyes. “I’d rather have one of the cabins. They’re not all full, are they?”
“Not yet, but we’ve got reservations—”
“Actually,” Dev said, wondering if the other two women had forgotten her
presence, “she can have mine. I…uh…should probably get a place closer to the
lab.”
Eileen look startled, and Leslie scrutinized Dev intently before saying, “Mom,
let’s settle the room situation later.”
“Of course. Let me double-check the registrations, and we can decide after
dinner. I’m sure I can work something out.” Eileen looked at Dev. “I hope you’ll
be able to join us tonight.”
“Thank you, but—” Dev said, scrambling for a polite way to decline when the
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