Author: J. A. Armstrong
Category: LGBT
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/j-a-armstrong/page,2,532215-open_tab.html
Pete started laughing. “Oh, she’s got a feel for people all right. Like that little blonde that was in here a few weeks ago. What do you use for bait?”
Fallon shook her head. Andi smiled, but Fallon could tell Pete’s comment stung. It was true. Fallon had taken the woman home. Whiskey Springs sat between the shores of Lake Champlain and the ski resorts that resided close to Mt. Mansfield. There were a handful of cabins in the town that had become rental properties. And, there were always the stragglers; the drivers who got lost on some scenic route looking for moose or deer and found themselves warming by the fire at Murphy’s Law. When Fallon had first returned to the town and opened the pub, she’d delighted in the groups of college students that found refuge by the fire. She easily related to their dialogue and their spirit of adventure. That time had long passed. Fallon was approaching her fortieth birthday. She’d be the first to admit that the cute twenty-something tourists who loved to flirt attracted her attention. She was only human. The allure of college coeds had diminished to the point of near non-existence. They tended to be inexperienced and too eager. Curiosity drove their actions; curiosity about anything they’d been told was off-limits, about the things they read in bad romance novels, and had sneaked peeks at from their parents’ porn collections. As cute and sexy as many of the girls were who approached Fallon, they were just that—girls. An outwardly womanly appearance vanished when the lights dimmed and the curtains closed. All their bravado shattered. Fallon found little interest in being anyone’s token lesbian experience, and she was not looking to serve as some college coed’s instructor fantasy. Sure, she’d slipped a few times in the last few years. That was always after a draught that left her close to desperate for another woman’s touch. She could barely recall those faces now.
“What was her name?” Dale tried to recall. “Geri or something?”
“Ginny,” Fallon said.
“Right. She was cute, Foster,” Dale said. “Should’ve invited her to stay.”
Fallon was growing uncomfortable with the conversation. She kept her gaze on the two men, but she could feel Andi’s eyes on her. She was accustomed to the boys’ teasing and banter, not in front of her lover. Arrangements did not exile emotion. Her connection to Andi was intimate. She had an advantage in the situation. At least, she thought so. She’d been confronted with the reality of Andi’s marriage and what that entailed from the beginning. Fallon never let her mind go there—to thoughts of Jake Maguire touching his wife. She knew he did. She even knew that Andi enjoyed it. They did not discuss that part of Andi’s life. Andi knew Fallon had been with other women since their affair began. They did not discuss that either. Fallon never made nor accepted overtures from women in Andi’s presence. She felt no desire to do so when Andi was near, and regardless of the situation there were boundaries.
“She was passing through,” Fallon said.
“Aren’t they all?” Pete laughed.
Andi sensed Fallon’s discomfort. Her fingers caught Fallon’s hand for a brief second in acknowledgment. “Oh, I don’t know,” Andi said. “Sooner or later one of them is going to decide to stay.”
Fallon’s heart skipped a beat. She looked at Andi apologetically.
Andi smiled warmly. “If you ever felt inclined to ask one of them, I’ll bet they’d agree.”
Fallon shook her head and chuckled. Andi’s words were sincere. There had been no one that had left Fallon seeking anything more than a brief interlude except Andi, and that was different. She didn’t need a relationship to be happy. If it happened, it happened. She neither sought love nor avoided it. She liked her freedom. She’d enjoyed a four-year relationship in her early thirties, and was grateful that it had resulted in a best friend, albeit a best friend that lived five-hundred miles away. Olivia Nolan had blown into Fallon’s life like a tornado and left it like a leaf falling in autumn. Their courtship had been fast, furious, and passionate. Their relationship steady and supportive, and their parting not without pain, yet gentle. Fallon often thought her time with Olivia had spoiled her. Relationships carried risk. She’d had a first-row seat to the way anger and vitriol could ruin what had once been a hopeful and loving partnership. Standing behind a bar, a person learned a lot about people’s lives. A few beers could open a person’s emotions like a broken faucet. A few more, and their mouth tended to follow. Fallon considered herself lucky. She’d been in love. She’d enjoyed a faithful partnership, and she’d survived its end without any visible scars. In her experience, that was rare. She wasn’t sure she wanted to take that gamble again. If she did, it would be with a woman unlike any she’d encountered yet, and she had encountered all kinds of women.
“Well,” Fallon began. “They might stay. It doesn’t mean they’ll be staying with me.” With that, she effectively ended the conversation.
Andi watched as Fallon busied herself with menial tasks. Fallon did that when she wanted to avoid something. The bar was quiet. Aside from the threesome at the bar, only one table enjoyed occupants. Not only was it a cold Tuesday in January; it was due to snow in a few hours. The most reserved predictions called for eight to ten inches. People had raided the grocery store, filled up their gas cans, loaded in firewood, and hunkered down. Fallon’s right-hand, Carol was behind the bar. Fallon didn’t even need to be at work. She chose to be here. Maybe Fallon didn’t see it. Andi felt it. Fallon avoided talking about relationships. Fallon avoided entanglements. That was one of the reasons the bond Fallon and Andi shared worked. There was enormous potential in what they shared. Andi was confident they both recognized that. Had their lives taken different turns, Andi felt sure they would have made a terrific couple. Life took the turns it did, and people had to adjust to those curves. She’d made her choice and so had Fallon. There was safety in what they shared—boundaries. Occasionally, the lines seemed to bleed slightly, but neither she nor Fallon would ever let the lanes they traveled merge completely. Andi would be lying if she claimed that Fallon’s desire for the single life didn’t bring her a sense of relief. It also made Andi sad. Fallon was intelligent, attractive, accomplished, and most of all, she was kind—genuinely so. People gravitated to Fallon. She deserved someone that could love her completely. As much as Andi hated to think about losing what they shared, she would be happy to see Fallon in love. It would hurt—more than Andi was prepared to admit to herself. She would let Fallon go in an instant. She did love Fallon. That’s how she knew she did. She wasn’t in love with Fallon. She loved her, and that’s why she would let her go when the time came. I hope it does, Fallon. For your sake, I hope it does.
CHAPTER TWO
Riley blinked rapidly, willing herself to stay awake. She’d taken her time getting to Vermont—lots of it. Traveling with a two-year-old who was potty-training meant frequent stops. It also came with constant, often indiscernible chatter. Almost two weeks, that’s how long it had been since Riley had left sunny San Diego. She’d stopped in Phoenix for a night, then spent three days with a college friend in Albuquerque. It was onto Tulsa for two nights from there, where she stayed with one of Robert’s cousins she hadn’t seen since his funeral. It lengthened her trip, but Riley headed to Nashville next. She’d always wanted to go. It was a self-indulgent detour from the most traveled route. Two nights there helped to revitalize her. She had enjoyed being in the hotel and taking Owen for a dip at the indoor pool. From there it was off to Cleveland where her Aunt Sally lived for a two-night stint. She’d stopped in Syracuse for two more nights and had enjoyed catching up with her high-school sweetheart and his wife. Bruce and Joy had a son three-months older than Owen. She’d enjoyed watching the pair interact, and had been tempted to accept Joy’s offer to stay another day or two. Weather forecasts were less than promising and Riley was determined to finish her journey. So far, she’d encountered snowy scenery, but none falling. She hated towing the small pop-up trailer behind her car. It wasn’t big, but it was out of her comfort zone, and the last thing she desired was to drive with it while it snowed. She
’d agreed to stay for lunch the next day. It would let her rest before the drive. Owen had been fussy, and lunch had turned into an early dinner. Now, it was eleven-thirty, dark and beginning to snow. Riley was mentally berating herself for not leaving earlier in the day when the car began to sputter.
“Just great.” She glanced in the mirror at Owen. “At least one of us can sleep.” The engine sputtered again and Riley felt the car buck. “Damn.” She pulled over, hoping that it was the result of the cold weather. “Sure, it is.” She gave it a few minutes and tried to turn the engine back over—nothing. Stay calm. She waited again and tried again—zip. “Shit.” Riley reached for her phone—no bars. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”
Riley huffed and shook her head. Maybe if she got out and walked a little bit she would get a signal. The sign for Whiskey Springs she had passed a short time ago read two-miles. Worst case scenario, she’d hoof it until she found civilization. She exited the warmth of the car and opened the back door. Owen groaned his protest the moment she unbuckled his seat.
“Sorry, sweetie.”
Riley grabbed the diaper bag next to her son. Better safe than sorry. She bundled him back up tightly and put the knit cap she’d purchased in Syracuse on his head. He grumbled again.
“It’s not San Diego, buddy,” she said. Trust me; this is not what I pictured doing tonight.
She lifted Owen from his seat, closed the door, and locked the car. His arms wrapped around her neck tightly, and he let his head fall onto her shoulder. I really hope we don’t have to walk too far. Riley took a deep breath and started forward.
***
“Get out of here,” Fallon told Carol.
“Fallon, I can close up.”
“Go home,” Fallon said. “I want to get the plow on the truck before I leave.”
“You know, you could just hire Pete. He wouldn’t charge you more than a few free beers.”
Fallon shrugged. She saw no reason to hire anyone to do what she could do herself. Besides, she didn’t have time to wait on other people. When the weather turned sour and most businesses closed, Fallon always managed to remain open. She’d have the lot plowed at Murphy’s Law before dawn, and keep it clear all day. She’d open her doors when the sun was just cracking through the darkness, and serve up coffee and breakfast to the plow and tow truck drivers, cops, and the few locals who would brave the cold. One of the first things Fallon did when she opened the pub was make sure she installed a back-up generator. Combined with the fireplace at the pub’s center, it provided a haven for locals when the power went out for any length of time. She enjoyed those cold winter mornings.
“No reason to hire anyone,” Fallon said. “Get outta’ here. Don’t plan on being here tomorrow either.”
“Oh, I’ll get here,” Carol said. “Charlie will drop me off.”
“Charlie, huh?”
Carol blushed. She’d been dating Charlie Carpenter for a few months. He was the local butcher, a trade he had inherited from his father and grandfather. Charlie’s family had lived in Whiskey Springs about as long as the town had existed. Depending on who you believed, that was either 1774 or 1794; seemed no one could agree on what the Town Charter’s blurry writing said. Over two-hundred years of bickering hadn’t solved the question. Carol had heard more than one friendly dispute erupt over the topic at Murphy’s Law. The last time it happened, a young couple renting a cabin asked how long the town had stood. Pete and another local, Drew Johnson insisted Charlie knew the actual date. As Carol had discovered, Charlie paid little attention to the local drama whether that was who was in whose bed or when the town came into being. He had no clue and no care. Fallon had intervened.
“Don’t you two know what Wikipedia is? Look it up.”
Carol loved Fallon. Fallon looked out for her, and she knew that extended to the men she chose to date. “I like him,” Carol admitted.
“You don’t say?” Fallon laughed. “If you get bored at home with Charlie, feel free to come in. Don’t worry about it, though.”
“Fallon?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you think something was bothering Andi tonight?”
Fallon smiled. She suspected that more than the teasing over Fallon’s sexual exploits, the mention of her boys had caused Andi’s quietness. Andi missed her kids. Fallon suspected that her lover felt a bit lost without the need to play the role of mom daily in their lives. Jake traveled frequently, leaving Andi alone much of the time. For years, the boys had filled the void her husband’s travels and affairs created. Now, she was alone with nothing to focus on when Jake was away. Fallon had eased Andi’s loneliness. And, Andi filled a part of Fallon’s life that had felt out of balance for many years. Their friendly affair gave Fallon something to look forward to aside from the pub. Fallon enjoyed their leisurely afternoons of lovemaking and long nights of sexual exploration. It was the hours they spent talking and confiding in each other that meant the most to Fallon. Those conversations always turned to Andi’s kids, how much she missed them, the stories they told when they called home, and the memories it all conjured for their mother.
“I think she’s missing the boys,” Fallon said.
“Mm. Maybe a little disappointed that you’ll be busy tonight?” Carol guessed.
Fallon sighed. She had guessed that Carol was onto the affair. This was the first mention Carol had made of any suspicion.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Carol said. “I get it. No one knows, Fallon. People see what they want to see.”
Fallon nodded. Carol was on point. People did see what they chose to. Fallon and Carol’s work gave them a different vantage point. They spent hours observing people. A great bartender could read body language. And, Carol was one of the best Fallon had ever met. Carol spent more time with Fallon than anyone. If anyone was going to figure out the dynamic between her and Andi, it would be Carol.
“I’m just saying that I think she might be missing you too—a little.”
“Maybe,” Fallon admitted. “How long have you known?”
“A few months,” Carol confessed.
“You don’t seem surprised.”
“That you’d sleep with Andi? Hell, anyone with a heartbeat would sleep with her.”
Fallon laughed. “Thanks, I think.”
“Well, they’d sleep with you too if you gave any of them the chance.”
Fallon shook her head. She made it a point not to get involved with people in town. It’s not as if Whiskey Springs was exactly a lesbian smorgasbord. New York City had been far better suited to a lesbian seeking a relationship. Fallon would be the first to admit that. Plus, people liked to talk. With a population of exactly nine-hundred-ninety-nine, Whiskey Springs was small-town America personified. More than people kept secrets, their neighbors pretended to keep their secrets. Wagging tongues could cause all kinds of problems. Failed relationships and marriages were the talk of the town, making it difficult to maintain friendships and privacy. The conversation might’ve been kept to whispering in quiet corners. It didn’t take long for the whispering to weave its way from nosy neighbors to busy-body church ladies to curious shop owners and back to the source again. Often, the story had changed so much by that point that the perpetrator didn’t recognize it, and it all began again. She’d come to understand that there were two kinds of gossip: curious chatter and rabid rumors. Curious chatter was a bi-product of being human. As her mother always said, people were naturally curious. That didn’t make them small-minded as some might suggest; it made them human. Rabid rumors were the result of something sinister—an objective to smear a person’s reputation for personal gain. Fortunately, Fallon had only encountered the latter a handful of times in Whiskey Springs. Nonetheless, knowing that your life or relationship was the chosen topic of conversation at the pub, the market, the butcher, the hairdresser, and at church coffees was not inclined to make a person feel welcome.
Whiskey Springs had neither grown by leaps and bounds nor had it diminished in size over
the years. Fallon thought she understood the reason why. Many people left for college, started their career elsewhere, met their significant other, and then moved back to the town after they were better established. One would have thought that dynamic would lead to rapid growth. When relationships went awry, when older children found themselves in some trouble, or a marriage ended in divorce, some or all parties tended to leave the town. The move might be as simple as a few miles away or as far as across the country. When a couple divorced, if one left for different parts, chatter tended to move from constant rumbling to sympathetic outreach. Small town life like big city living had its ups and downs. Understanding how the community worked had shaped much of Fallon’s perspective on pursuing relationships. She had no intention of leaving her home, and that left her cautious when it came to romantic involvement.
There was no one in Whiskey Springs that Fallon had any desire to pursue besides Andi. Who would she date; Daryl and Daryl? As much as she loved a pair of warm flannel pajamas, the likes of Pete and Dale were not enticing to her—wrong style, wrong interests, and most of all wrong parts. Andi held her interest, and not just in the bedroom. And, being with Andi was safe. The fact was, even if anyone suspected that Andi was sleeping with her, no one was likely to utter a word. People felt for Andi. She was a kind, beautiful, outgoing woman who had lived nearly her entire life in the town. Everyone knew about Jake Maguire’s lifestyle. That had been humiliating for Andi. Andi had always held her head high. She’d resisted becoming a jaded woman. People felt for her. No one suspected Andi’s attraction to women, of that Fallon was sure. And, few people were likely to make waves for Fallon, not because of the pub or who she was—but because of her mother.