Two on the Aisle by Robbi McCoy

Author:Robbi McCoy [McCoy, Robbi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Lesbian
ISBN: 9781594932595
Google: gSNLYgEACAAJ
Amazon: 159493259X
Publisher: Bella Books
Published: 2011-11-15T18:54:03+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

I would I were thy bird.

—Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene 2

Tallulah Rose Creamery was easy to find with the directions Wren had from the Internet. A sign on a narrow country road marked a long, unpaved driveway that disappeared over a rise. There was no gate across the driveway, just an opening in the fence. She turned into the drive and continued amid gently rolling hills punctuated by an occasional oak tree. The countryside was beautiful and tranquil. She’d encountered no cars after turning off the highway. In the distance, a cloud of dust signaled a piece of farm equipment at work in a field.

She crested a hill to get her first glimpse of a modest white house, single-story with wood siding, sheltered within a cluster of well-established trees. Near the house were several small outbuildings of varying sizes, all weathered gray wood. An old green tractor sat beside one of the sheds. A detached garage stood next to the house and a pickup was parked in front of that.

She came to a stop in front of the house as the front door opened and Sophie stepped out onto the wide front porch. She wore a T-shirt and shorts, casual at-home clothes.

I should have brought flowers, Wren thought, but she had made this decision so quickly, she had planned nothing. She jumped out of her car and moved toward Sophie. “Hi,” she called, waving.

Sophie looked stunned, not in a happy way. “What are you doing here?” she asked, as if she were making an accusation.

Wren stopped where she was, abandoning her plan to rush into Sophie’s arms. They stood about eight feet apart.

“I wanted to see you,” Wren said tentatively. “I’ve been wanting to see you again ever since...” She was now feeling uncomfortable. “You’re not happy to see me?”

“No. I’m not.”

“Oh.” Wren hesitated, not knowing what to say. “We had such a good time. I thought we did anyway.”

“Yes.” Sophie’s voice was ripe with sarcasm. “Great fun, wasn’t it?”

She was like another person, not at all the woman Wren had met before. She was cold, even angry. Thy cloudy brow stings like daggers.

“I thought it was fun, yes,” Wren said quietly. “Maybe even more than that. I’ve been thinking about you a lot since then. I thought—”

“I’m not interested.” Sophie’s statement was flat, her voice terse.

“Are you mad at me for some reason?”

“No, not mad. I’m just not interested, that’s all.” The look in Sophie’s eyes was complicated, a mixture of sorrow and anger. “What happened between us,” she said in a softer tone, “was a mistake. Please…just go.”

“Go?” Wren couldn’t understand. She tried to think of a way to stall. “Can I at least see your place? Take a look at those Nubian goats and taste some cheese?”

“I don’t see any point in—” Sophie began.

Her answer was interrupted by the squeaking of the screen door behind her as Olivia appeared on the porch and came down the steps toward them. Why couldn’t I see she was Sophie’s mother? Wren thought, observing the now obvious resemblance between them.

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