Just This Once (20 page)

The Labor Day picnic was underway, with more than a hundred residents and guests milling about between the pool and the clubhouse. The caterers had laid out a buffet line of salad, baked beans, chips, and corn on the cob. Two men watched over the grill, which was spread generously with hot dogs, hamburgers, and barbecued chicken.

“Tell me again what she looks like,” Kitty asked. The elder Connelly was really looking forward to meeting this woman that had her daughter in such a state. After drawing closer to Wynne over the past year, she wanted her own assurances that this Paula McKenzie was nothing at all like Heather Bennett.

“She’s…right there!” Wynne beamed with excitement as she watched the blonde woman bound down the steps toward the party. For some silly reason, it hadn’t occurred to her that Paula would in fact know many of the people in attendance, and she was at first surprised to see her stop and greet one group after another. Eventually, she found her way to the table where the Connellys waited.

“Hi! I’m glad you could come.” Wynne stood immediately and pulled another chair to their table.

“I try not to miss these things. It’s a good chance to see my neighbors.” Paula wanted to underscore the fact that she was planning to come anyway, and that Wynne’s invitation had been unimportant. Turning toward the woman she assumed was Wynne’s mother, Paula introduced herself. “Hi, I’m Paula McKenzie.”

Wynne completed the introductions as the two women shook hands. Paula remained standing until the older woman insisted that she join them.

“So how do you like Orlando, Mrs. Connelly?”

“Please call me Kitty. After all, we’re neighbors now. We like Orlando just fine, don’t we Wynne?”

“Very much.”
Especially now
.

“I like it, too. I’m really glad to be back.” Paula was quite deliberate about addressing her remarks to Kitty rather than Wynne. “And I like this complex too. The facilities are nice and the people are friendly. Do you like it here?”

“Oh, yes! The complex is very nice.” Kitty recognized at once that Paula was avoiding her daughter altogether; it amused her to see the consternation on Wynne’s face at being excluded from the conversation. But she wasn’t about to let that happen indefinitely.

“Wynne tells me that she met you at the hotel.”

The brunette nearly choked at hearing her mother open that can of worms. And then there was Paula’s reply!

“That’s right. We used to be pretty good friends.”

Ouch!

“Well, I know she’s been very excited about you moving back to town. She hasn’t made many new friends here, and I hate to think of her spending all that time by herself at home. It’ll be nice to see her start getting out.”

Wynne’s face burned with embarrassment at her mother’s blatant insinuations.

Out of the blue, Kitty Connelly had put her finger on what it was about seeing Wynne again that was so unreal. She was…by herself! In all of the hours over the last week that Paula had spent thinking about the sudden invitation to this picnic, she hadn’t once thought about the woman who had answered the phone in Baltimore.

Paula stood suddenly and stepped back from the table. “I should be going. I have something planned with my family, but I wanted to stop by and say hello. It was very nice meeting you, Mrs. Connelly.”

“Call me Kitty. And it was nice meeting you. Wynne, if you want to walk your friend back to her place, I’ll be fine here.”

On cue, the red-faced woman stood and fell in beside their departing guest.

“Your mom is certainly subtle.”

“Like multiple gunshot wounds,” Wynne agreed sheepishly.

“You know, I know the way home. You don’t have to walk with me.” Paula had owned up to her demons when she’d come face to face with Wynne in Denver. As far as she was concerned, their brief talk that night in the Concierge lounge settled things between them for good. But seeing her again — at her own door, no less — had stirred emotions that she just couldn’t identify.

“I know, but…I’d appreciate it if we could talk a little.” Wynne shoved her hands in her pockets, slowing her gait in hopes that the shorter woman would do the same. Paula’s demeanor today was far from warm and friendly, but at least she’d come to the party, and that counted for something.

“Fine,” she answered noncommittally. “So I take it you live alone these days.”

“Yes, I do. I split up with Heather right after I got back to Baltimore.”

The blonde shot her a sideways glare.

“Yeah, I know. My timing left a lot to be desired.”

“Well now, there’s an understatement!”

Plainly, forging even a friendship was going to be a challenge. “Look, I know that you told me in Denver that it didn’t really matter, but I want you to know that I’m really sorry I made such a mess of everything,” the brunette started.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Paula answered, looking straight ahead as they walked.

“Then don’t think of it as an apology. Think of it as a statement of how much I regret what I did because it caused me to lose your friendship, and because it cost me the chance to have even more than that. I know I should have spoken up, but I never really thought things would go that far between us.”

“That’s no excuse, Wynne. No matter what you thought would happen to us, you and I started out just being friends, and even friends would think to say something like ‘Oh, and I live with someone back in Baltimore.’ But you deliberately left that out. You told me about your mom, your sister, and your niece. Why not tell me about your girlfriend?”

That was a good point, Wynne thought. Why had she never mentioned it? “Paula…you and I started flirting with each other the first night we met. We were having fun. It was the first time in five years I could remember having fun with anybody.” She heaved a big sigh, worried that she might be digging herself into a deeper hole. “Look, I’ll say it again. What I did was wrong. I should have told you about Heather. But at the time, I didn’t think there was any chance of you and me being anything more than friends.”

“Hello! We had sex, Wynne! That was you, wasn’t it?” Paula sneered sarcastically, still not looking at her companion.

“I didn’t set out to have sex with you. I never thought it would go that far, honest to God.”

“It never should have gone that far, and if you’d told me about this Heather, it wouldn’t have. I’m not in the habit of borrowing someone else’s girlfriend for a roll in the sack. And just so you know it, I don’t happen to like to share either.”

Wynne walked in silence for a few steps, acutely aware of the ache in her chest as she absorbed Paula’s angry words. Was this how the term “heartbroken” had come about?

But she forged ahead.

“Paula, everything I did was wrong, and I knew it. I told myself over and over that I shouldn’t be spending time with you like that, and especially when I started to realize the feelings that were growing every time I came down here.”

Paula looked at her in disbelief.

“That’s right. And when I started feeling more for you than just friendship, I really knew it was wrong. By that time, I didn’t want to stop. But I figured my job would end soon and both of us knew that would be the end of it. I never thought it would go that far. I lost control.”

“So did I,” Paula confessed.

“I wanted to try to set it all right, but you found out about Heather before I had a chance to tell you. And I would have told you. I realize how convenient that sounds, but it really is the truth.”

“Did you tell Heather?”

“No. I hurt Heather enough just by asking her to move out. There was no reason to add to that.”

“Would you have broken up with her if it hadn’t been for me?”

“I hope I would have. Being with you sure showed me all that was missing from what she and I had. I was with Heather for all the wrong reasons, and if you and I can manage to be friends again, I’ll tell you all about it someday. She’s a good person; we just weren’t right for each other. I hated hurting her, and I hated hurting you.”

As they climbed the steps, neither woman spoke. Out of the corner of her eye, Paula watched the taller woman grimace as she grasped the rail and pulled herself up, obviously struggling to alternate her lead foot. That was a significant change from last time, she noted, when Wynne could only lead with her good leg.

“You had the surgery?”

“Yeah, about a year ago. I think this is as good as it gets.”

“It looks like it’s a lot better,” she observed, wanting for some reason to both compliment and encourage this woman beside her. “Does it hurt much?”

“Not like it used to.” They reached the landing and stopped. Wynne finally gathered her nerve to ask Paula for one small concession. “Look, I know I don’t deserve your friendship, but if we can work it out to start over, I promise that I won’t lie to you again.”

Paula didn’t respond at first; she wanted to choose her words very carefully to convey exactly how she felt. She turned and inserted the key in the door. Still not meeting the eyes of her companion, she answered sternly, “Wynne, you need to get it out of your head that we can ever ‘start over.’ We might be able to be friends someday — ‘might’ is the operative word — if I ever feel like I can trust you again, but we won’t ever go down that other path. If that’s what you’ve got in mind, do us both a big favor now and just let it go.”

Despite all those qualifications, Paula’s response was enough to keep the hope alive in Wynne. If they could be friends again, she’d find a way to show Paula that they could be more.

Chapter 17

“I can’t believe you scored these tickets” the hotel manager exclaimed. “All the home games are sold out.”

“You just have to have the right connections,” her tall companion answered smugly. And a fat checkbook, too, Wynne thought to herself. Ever since the Buccaneers won the Super Bowl, they were the hottest ticket in Florida. But some of Eldon-Markoff’s agencies held tickets back that were part of travel packages, and the seats often became available at the last minute. Wynne knew this from having gone to a game last year with Cheryl and her husband.

“Well, anytime you get connected, count me in.”

That settled that, as far as Wynne was concerned. She would put in for all the home games from now on if it meant Paula would come with her.

Climbing the stairs to their upper level seats in Raymond James Stadium, the women quickly became caught up in the game day excitement. Paula snagged a passing vendor and bought them each a hot dog and a cold draft beer in a souvenir cup, but Wynne wanted to hit the NFL gear stand so she could buy herself a team jersey.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Paula warned. She herself wore a cap and t-shirt that boasted the Buccaneers logo.

“Why not? Lots of people here are wearing them.”

“I know, but you’re taking a big chance. Not only are they 80 bucks, but as soon as you get one with a player’s name on it, he’s going to go and get arrested for beating his girlfriend. Then you have his name on your back.”

“I see what you mean. So I’ll get a t-shirt.”

“That’s a better idea. It’s cheaper and generic. It only says that you endorse large men crashing into each other with the intent of causing bodily harm.”

“But in an organized way,” Wynne added seriously.

“But of course,” Paula laughed.

Wynne was really happy with the way the day was going. It had taken her a while to get up the nerve to call, afraid that Paula would refuse, or worse, that she’d thought about their conversation and changed her mind about even trying to be friends. Things had started out awkwardly in the car, both women struggling a little with the conversation at first. But eventually, they settled down on the drive over to Tampa and lapsed into a casual discussion of the hotel business, the travel business, and the Bucs’ chances of returning to the Super Bowl.

“Does it feel weird to be cheering against the Ravens?”

“A little,” Wynne admitted, though she’d transferred her loyalties from the Baltimore team when she started following the Bucs. “I still pull for them when they’re playing someone else, but the Bucs are my team now.”

“I couldn’t bring myself to pull for the Broncos in Denver. I think I knew I wasn’t going to be there very long, so I didn’t get too comfortable. Does that sound silly?”

“Not at all. I guess I’d have done the same thing. But I knew when I took the job in Orlando that it was going to be for the long haul, so I wanted to be a part of it. And when Mom moved down, it sealed the deal. We’re Floridians now.”

To Paula, that was almost surreal…but not as much as the fact that they were here together as budding friends after the anger and bitterness she’d felt just a year ago. Even more astonishing was the level of comfort they seemed to share, and how they’d slipped so easily into their friendly banter. It was a shame, Paula thought, that things between them had been forever ruined. Looking at her beautiful companion, it would be very easy to forget that she had insisted on nothing more than friendship. But that would be a mistake.

With the game in hand, the pair slipped out of the stadium early to beat the traffic. Not ready for the day to end, Paula offered to buy dinner and directed Wynne to Flanagan’s, the sports bar in downtown Orlando where her friend Val worked. Elbowing their way through the crowded bar, the women claimed a tall round table and two bar stools.

“I’ll go grab a couple of menus,” the blonde offered. When she got back, she bristled at the sight of a handsome forty-ish man who had set his beer on their table and was already deep in conversation with the beautiful brunette. “Here you go,” she interrupted unceremoniously, tossing the menu across the small table.

“Thanks. What’s good here?”

Paula was about to answer when the self-perceived Don Juan jumped in. “I like the barbecue. Say, do you mind if we pull up a couple of extra stools? There seem to be lots of stools, but not many tables.”

“Actually, if you’d like to have this table, we can move on over to the bar,” Paula offered flatly.

Wynne turned away to shield the smile that crept onto her face. She was enjoying this.

“Well…no,” he stammered. “You don’t have to move. I think there’s plenty of room here for all of us.”