Finding Ms. Write Page 14

  After a while, Grandma returned and approached Liz. “Step outside with me for a moment.”

  Liz stood up. “Is Aunt Jo okay?”

  Grandma looked at the others. “Shh. Just come.” She hurried to the door.

  Liz followed to where Aunt Jo was waiting. Her face was flushed, and her eyelids were swollen. What was going on? What made her cry? Jo was generally relaxed and hard to ruffle, no matter what happened.

  “Do you still have contact with…with the woman who wrote in the book? What’s her name?” Jo clutched Liz’s arm, her hand trembling.

  “Aunt Jo, are you okay? Do you need to sit down?” Jo looked as if she might faint. Even though no one would call her fragile, she definitely looked her age today.

  “No. Don’t fuss. Just answer my question. Do you?”

  Why was this so important to her? The answer hit her like a book tumbling from the highest shelf. Why hadn’t she seen it before? She’d even found her file a while back. “You are JS!”

  Jo just nodded and smiled shyly.

  Liz grinned like a fool. She was nearly jumping up and down with excitement. “I can’t believe it. All this time, the answer was that close. I’ll call Beth right away.” She reached for her phone, but Jo stopped her.

  “Beth… Do you think she might want to talk to me after all that time?” The trepidation in her voice slowed Liz down.

  Liz hugged her. “She came to the library to find the book, maybe even to find you. Everything will be fine.”

  The next hour was chaotic. Liz decided to break the news to Beth in person and drove to her retirement home, which was surprisingly close. After a short talk and a longer cry, Beth insisted on meeting Jo right away. Because Beth’s hip was acting up, Liz drove back to get Jo and Jane. Now she was sitting with Jane on one of the benches in the garden. At the other end of the park, Beth and Jo talked animatedly about something.

  Jane had the same mixture of delight and excitement reflected in her expression that Liz felt. “I’m happy for them.”

  “Me too.” Jane slowly turned until she was facing Liz. Her gaze moved over Liz as if she was searching for something. Her smile softened and became marginally more sensual. “This is the best date I’ve ever been on.”

  “Me too.” Liz moved closer until their arms and thighs were touching. Warmth spread from the points of contact through her body and finally settled behind her breastbone. She desperately wanted to kiss Jane, but she managed to restrain herself. They had enough time later. “What do you think they’re talking about?”

  “Books.” Jane leaned against her and took her hand. Her fingers were warm, soft, and strong. They felt just right. “And what do you think we’ll be talking about when we reach their age?”

  They both laughed and answered together. “Books.”

  WROTE TRIP

  BY CORI KANE

  Patrice hurried inside the house and did a quick scan to see if she’d forgotten something essential. Her backpack was sitting on a kitchen chair, with her phone, sunglasses, and suntan lotion on the table next to it. She was set for her vacation.

  She would have liked to start it in peace, but her phone obviously had other ideas as it started ringing. “You just had to do that, didn’t you?”

  A look at the display confirmed Pat’s suspicion: Kasey.

  Better now than when I’m on the road. Pat answered the call. “Isn’t it a little early for you?”

  “Good morning to you too. I wanted to get you before you left. You haven’t yet, right?”

  “You caught me just in time. I’m on my way out the door.” Pat slid her sunglasses into place. Granted, the sun hadn’t entirely come up yet, but for Pat their shielding effect worked against the entire outside world sometimes. She needed them now to fend off whatever Kasey wanted from her.

  “And you’re not about to reconsider, sit down your ass, and write that novel? Like, right now?”

  Pat took a deep breath. She’d explained before that she needed a break, that she needed to recharge her metaphorical batteries, but either Kase didn’t listen, or she didn’t care. Both options stung. “No,” was all Pat said.

  “RJ, please, I…”

  “Don’t call me that. You know RJ Patrick is just a pseudonym. I’m Pat, and I’m not a machine, Kase. I haven’t had a vacation in almost five years. I’ve written the Dusty Shades series, then two books for the Blue Troop series, and I’m finally out of imagination. I got an idea but can’t put a single sentence to paper, virtual or otherwise. It’s just not coming. If you think someone else will do a better job writing that last book in the series, please let them. I’ll even give you my notes. At this point, I’d be thankful to be rid of it.” Pat was almost yelling, so she hastily clenched her teeth together. They’d been over this. All she wanted now was to be left alone for two weeks.

  “I know you don’t mean that.” Kasey sounded contrite. “I’m sorry, Pat. It’s just that this series is so goddamn successful. Everybody’s got their knickers in a twist over the delay.”

  “I’m aware, but I’m just not feeling it at the moment. I need a break.”

  “Yeah.” Kasey sighed. “Well, I hope it helps. I hope you find your muse, drag her back home, and write the best in the series. And…I also hope you get some rest. Maybe a tan and a good lay?”

  Pat laughed. “I’m not aiming that high, but a tan would be nice.”

  “All right. Come back in one piece, and you know how to reach me should something…develop.”

  “You want me to call if I get laid?” Pat joked.

  “Well, given that you’d be the only one of us getting any, please do. You know what I mean, though?”

  “Yeah, I know.” Pat shouldered her backpack, grabbed her keys, and the bottle of lotion. She looked around the house one last time. “Time to go,” she told Kasey.

  “All right, have a good trip.”

  “Thanks, Kase. Don’t work too hard.”

  “Haha,” was the only answer she got before Kasey disconnected.

  Pat slipped her phone into her pocket and left the house. She locked the front door, walked to her car, and dropped her backpack on the passenger seat. After a few minutes of puttering with her iPhone and stereo, she started the engine and music flooded the interior of the car.

  Pat smiled. Before she pulled out of the driveway, she pushed her shades up on her head because it really was still too dark for them. Then she started the trip that she hoped would bring her some rest and relaxation and return her muse to her side.

  The traffic thinned out rather quickly after Pat had left the city. No commuters drove out this way; it was the kind of one-way highway out of the city to a new part of your future, another city, another life. Naturally, it wasn’t really a one-way highway, because people also entered the city with the same kind of hopes. The point was Pat felt as if she was leaving everything behind.

  She would come back, but first she got to drive away from all her responsibilities, her deadline, her computer. And it felt good. At least, it felt good for the first hour when she was singing along with her music, carefree and relieved of her burdens.

  After that first hour, however, things got decidedly boring. There were hardly any cars around, and she didn’t need all her concentration on the road. But what to do with the rest of it? She didn’t really want to sing to her music all day and arguing with religious programs or sports commentators on talk radio was only fun for half an hour.

  She couldn’t read, of course. Pity. Maybe she should have just rolled herself into a ball on the couch with all the books she’d always wanted to read and done just that. Maybe this road trip was a bad idea.

  Ah, her brain, the relentless force behind her personal achievements. It couldn’t go long without entertainment. But she wouldn’t just find the next exit and re
turn home. No way. She’d promised herself some time away from home, some time away from her work. Too bad she wasn’t able to leave her brain behind too.

  She started a mental list of sights she wanted to see, towns and cities to stop at, foods she wanted to have for dinner. After a few minutes, her thoughts wandered, and she started tapping restlessly on her steering wheel.

  “Road trips are boring,” she said, then sighed. She should have asked someone to come along, just to talk. But whom would she have asked? Her neighbor Lee? He was nice and friendly and sometimes hit on her because she was a woman and he was a man and he thought that was how the world worked. Her ex Lena? She’d left because Pat wasn’t paying her enough attention. Well, now she could have all the attention she wanted. Of course, Lena was involved with another woman and in a “serious relationship.” The way she’d worded it made Pat wonder what their relationship had been. Fun and games?

  Then there was Kasey. Her editor didn’t go on road trips and probably couldn’t even remember when she’d been on vacation the last time. Kasey was happiest when she was working, which also included harassing Pat about when her next sentence, chapter, novel would be finished.

  Pat sighed again. There really wasn’t anyone who would have just dropped everything to accompany her on this road trip. Anyway, it was supposed to be her time. Alone time. Thinking time. Something new age, something spiritual…

  Oh, a hitchhiker. A girl. What was she doing out here in the middle of nowhere?

  Pat slowed down, set her blinker, and stopped at the side of the road.

  The girl hesitated for a moment and then ran toward her car.

  She was young, possibly twenty if not younger. Pat leaned over the passenger seat and unlocked the door. Then she took her backpack from the seat and put it in back.

  The young woman opened the door and looked inside the car. “Hi, I’m Jen. Are you going in the direction of Belington?”

  “Sure, hop in. I’m Pat.” She smiled.

  Jen slipped into the passenger seat. She looked at Pat a moment, a frown forming between her eyebrows. “I didn’t really expect anyone to stop for me. It’s not the liveliest part of the world.”

  “How did you end up here anyway?” Pat asked, as she steered the car onto the road.

  “A fellow student said he was going my way and would drop me at home. Well, that’s at least how I interpreted what he’d said. He really meant he was going my way and would drop me at an intersection where he would leave me to find my way home, six hours later, presumably.” Jen made a face.

  “If you’re walking fast. Belington is just behind that town with the brewery, isn’t it? I forgot what it’s called.”

  “Elkins? Well, it’s actually a little farther than that. But if you don’t go that far, just drop me off at another intersection. I can find my way.”

  Pat wanted to shake her head at the recklessness of youth but resisted. “I’m sure you can, but I would feel better if I dropped you off at…where you’re going.”

  “My mom’s house,” Jen supplied helpfully.

  “Your mom’s house, then.”

  “You sure you wanna go all that way? I mean, don’t you need to be somewhere?”

  Pat laughed. “Not today. Not for two weeks, in fact. I’m taking a vacation.”

  “That sounds nice.”

  “Yeah,” Pat said with a lot less enthusiasm than when she’d started the trip. “I hope so.”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?” Jen sounded genuinely interested.

  “I’m taking a vacation from work. I’m just… I work in a creative field, and I kind of lost my inspiration. But there’s this huge project I’m working on. Everybody’s… Anyway, what if I can’t get back to that project? What if I can’t reconnect?” Pat shook her head. Why was she talking about this with somebody she didn’t know?

  “Do you think that maybe you’re putting too much pressure on yourself?”

  Pat looked over at Jen for a moment, then back at the road.

  “It’s an important project.”

  “But is it a project that’s important to you?”

  Pat didn’t know how to answer this question, so she didn’t. Instead she filed it away as something to think about on her trip.

  “So, where are you going for your vacation?” Jen asked as she searched through her backpack. After a moment, she gave up and put the bag on the floor. She leaned comfortably against the door where she could look at Pat rather than outside.

  “West.”

  “Speaking of vague, but if you don’t wanna talk…”

  “No, no, that’s not it, sorry. I just really haven’t made a plan. I thought I’d drive west for a week and then turn around and drive back.”

  Jen chuckled.

  Pat looked over at her and couldn’t help smiling. “Do you think that’s stupid?”

  “No, I think it’s kinda cool. And a lot unprepared. I thought the thirties would all be about planning your life, but that’s obviously not how you roll.”

  That made Pat laugh. “I’m usually making lists about everything. The trip was kind of spontaneous, I guess. I just needed time away.”

  “Good for you.”

  For a few moments, only the low music from the stereo could be heard between them. Surprisingly, Pat didn’t rush to say anything. She was comfortable with Jen setting the pace of their conversation or silence, whatever Jen preferred.

  “But you are, though, aren’t you?” Jen finally asked.

  “Am what?”

  “In your thirties?”

  Pat glanced sideways, and Jen grinned cheekily.

  “Are you trying to find out how old I am? Don’t be shy, just ask.”

  “Okay, how old are you?”

  “Thirty-six. You?”

  Jen chuckled. “Should’ve known. I’m twenty-two. Currently an English major at NYU. Single…”

  Pat turned her head. Their eyes met.

  A slight tingle went up Pat’s spine as she gazed into Jen’s dark eyes. She quickly looked away. It would be too easy to get lost in the depths of her stare.

  Get yourself together, Pat. Just because Kasey thinks you should get laid, doesn’t mean you’re gonna get some from a far-too-young hitchhiker. This is not a porno. It’s life, remember?

  Heat crawled up her neck, and she cleared her throat.

  “How about you?” Jen asked.

  “Oh, it’s been a while since I graduated from Chapel Hill. English too.”

  “Married?”

  Pat looked over at Jen, who was once again smiling.

  “No, I’m not married.”

  “Engaged? In a serious relation—?”

  “Serious, what does that even mean? Are there relationships which aren’t serious?” Pat interrupted more forcefully than she’d wanted to. Her face heated once again, faster this time. She shook her head. “Sorry.”

  “Not at all. I mean, yeah, there are relationships that aren’t all that serious. Sometimes you like someone, but you don’t wanna make a commitment. But, of course, you have to talk about these things, about whatever you want to have with someone. Did you just break up with someone?”

  Pat shook her head. “No, it’s been almost half a year since she broke up with me. We were together over three years, and the other day she told me she was now in a serious relationship. I guess I got kind of testy over that word.”

  “Well, three years is a serious relationship. Sounds to me like your ex has a chip on her shoulder.”

  Pat nodded, amazed with herself for talking so casually about her ex. Generally, she didn’t tell strangers she was gay. Maybe it was because Jen was a woman or because she was younger. Or maybe it was because Pat got a vibe from her—a gay vibe.

  “Yeah, may
be she does,” she answered.

  Fifteen minutes later, they passed the exit leading to Elkins.

  “Since you’re over twenty-one, is the Elkins beer any good?” Pat asked.

  “No idea. I’m not a beer fan.”

  Pat chuckled. “And you claim to be a student?”

  “Ha, yeah, but I prefer tequila.”

  Pat threw her a look to see if she was serious. Jen wore the same easy smile. She seemed bemused, but never entirely serious.

  “Tequila? Not for me. I like wine.”

  “Bad experiences with tequila?”

  “Tequila, vodka, rum, you name it. But my college days are thankfully far behind me. I’m not drinking much these days.”

  “I was kidding about the tequila, by the way. I do enjoy some alcohol sometimes, but it’s usually just something girly colorful.”

  Pat nodded. “Nothing wrong with that. I mean, nothing wrong with drinking alcohol on occasion, even if it’s tequila. I’ve had my share, and maybe we were overdoing it back then. But even that…” She shrugged, refraining from saying it was okay. There were moments, memories which weren’t really okay. Things had gotten out of hand, and not just once.

  “Some of my friends are overdoing it sometimes. I try to stay out of that.”

  Pat looked over again.

  Jen looked back at her earnestly.

  “I’m the designated driver a lot,” Jen added.

  “Then you do own a car?”

  “No, but most of my friends do. We’re usually a whole bunch of people going out together.”