LJ Maas - Rebecca’s Cove

“I’ve been around enough women in my lifetime to be able to tell when one is using me because she’s mad at the woman she really wants. You know, I don’t even believe we’re having this conversation. You are forty-two years old, Baylor, and we’re talking about your love life like we’re still in grade school.”

Baylor munched on an ice cube and continued to glare at Juliana. “Like you’re some big-ass expert on women. May I remind you that you’re the same age and single, too?”

“Yeah, but I’ve got a date for tomorrow night.”

“You bitch. You’re still gonna go out with her, knowing the way I feel?”

“Hey, being an understanding mate only goes so far, especially when a beautiful woman is involved.”

“I guess I know where our friendship stands,” Baylor said, looking away.

“Don’t even go there. If I weren’t your friend, I wouldn’t be telling you that the one way you could get this girl would be to be honest with her.”

“Jesus H. Christ.” Baylor rested her head in her hands. “How did I let this situation get so fucked up?”

“Baylor, you said a bad word.” Noah just happened to be on his way over to their table. He clapped his hands tightly over his ears.

Juliana smiled at his antics. His friendly smile and glasses made him instantly recognizable as Hobie’s son.

“Hey there, Bubba. You caught me. Sorry about that.” “S’okay.”

“Just do me a favor. Be sure not to tell your mom about that, huh?” Baylor lifted Noah into her lap and Juliana watched, seemingly fascinated at how comfortable she appeared around him.

“I’m kind of on thin ice with her tonight.” “Why?”

“I didn’t exactly tell your mom the truth about something.” “Oh,” Noah drew out the word. “Mom says don’t use bad words and always be honest.”

“So far, you’re batting a thousand, mate.” Juliana chuckled. Baylor glared at her. “Noah, this woman with the very big

mouth, her name is Juliana. You can call her Jules. She’s my very best friend in the whole world. Next to you, of course.” She tickled Noah, who giggled.

“So,” Baylor continued, looking over at Juliana, “you think I should start being honest, eh?”

“Spot on.”

“Honesty, huh? Okay, how’s this for a start at honesty? Bubba, do you know who your dad is?”

“Uh-huh.” Noah nodded. “Oh, Baylor, I gotta go. They’re givin’ out cake and ice cream now.” He squirmed his way out of Baylor’s lap.

“Wait, just a sec, Bubba.” Baylor caught his arm. “Noah, who is your dad?”

“965-2338,” the preoccupied boy said. “I gotta go now.” Baylor released Noah’s arm and watched as he sped off to the dessert table. “What the hell do you make of that?”

“I don’t know. Oh, wait.” Juliana counted the digits with the fingers of one hand. “I bet it’s the bloke’s phone number.”

“Shit, I never thought of that. If he doesn’t know the area code, it must mean it’s local. I wonder...”

“Do not tell me you’re thinking about doing what I think you are.”

“What?”

“You’re gonna call that number, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” Baylor swirled what was left of the ice in her glass.

“Let it go. If Hobie wants to tell you, she will. Agal like Hobie doesn’t stroll into your life every day. If you do have feelings for her, you better concentrate on finding the nerve to tell her so.”

“I find it extremely interesting that you should say that, considering you’re going out on a date with her tomorrow.”

“Like I said, mate, the way to stop that from happening is to tell her...tonight. It’s not a case of you or me. Trust me on this one. I’m just an alternate. If she knew that you were in the game, I wouldn’t even be in the running.”

“So all I have to do is come out and say...it.”

“First thing I’d work on is your delivery.” Juliana tried hard not to laugh at her friend. “If you can’t say the words to yourself, you’re certainly not going to be able to say them to her.”

“Okay, okay, I’m working on it. I think I need some more to drink first.” Without saying another word, Baylor jumped up and headed for the bar.

“Hobie?”

“What now?” Hobie turned to face Baylor and stopped breathing for a moment. BJ’s short hair dipped into her face, covering one eye. She looked exactly as she had on the night the two women first met. Any harsh words that Hobie might have been prepared to say over Baylor’s previous behavior melted away on her tongue.

“Baylor?” Hobie only hoped the catch in her voice hadn’t been audible.

“Yeah. Um, you got a sec because I have something…of-of the...of the...utmost importance to speak to you about.”

Baylor’s body swayed back and forth ever so slightly. Hobie realized that the rakish charm Baylor possessed was due to the same influence as their first meeting. Baylor Warren was dead drunk.

“Something important, eh?” Hobie felt herself wanting to smile. It was so difficult to be cross with a woman who looked so adorable.

“Yes, yes...important, very important. Life threatening, in fact,” Baylor slurred.

Hobie finally smiled, perturbed at herself for it, but only slightly so. Baylor was beautiful and charming. She had a heart, even when she pretended not to, and there was something innocently childlike in her ability to see nothing beyond the task before her. Even though she was so drunk that she had to hold on to the back of a chair to keep her body upright, Baylor still had the ability to enchant Hobie.

“So...” Hobie prompted.

“So what?” Baylor’s brow furrowed together.

“You wanted to tell me something life threatening, as I recall.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. No, life altering, not threatening.”

“I see.” Hobie waited again, but Baylor just stared at her with a cute half smile. “And it would be?” she finally asked.

“Oh! Yes. Um, honey…Hobie, I mean Hobie!”

“Yes, Baylor?” Two hours earlier, when Baylor had last approached her, Hobie had wanted to pick up a heavy object and plant it in Baylor’s skull; now she wasn’t sure how to describe what she felt. It was as though being with Baylor this way took Hobie back to that night in Chicago. The night when every part of her being screamed at her to be sensible, but instead she said “what the hell” and allowed Baylor to kiss her anyway—and that one kiss was something Hobie wouldn’t give back for the world.

Baylor brushed the hair from her eyes and tried to focus on what she wanted to say. “Hobie, I...Hobie, will you—”

“Hobie Lynn, can we have just a moment of your time?” Peter Mason, the head librarian, called out. He added that he wanted Hobie’s opinion as a board member regarding some of the funds they had collected that evening.

“Sure, Peter, just give me a minute,” Hobie said. Unfortunately, by the time she turned back to face Baylor, she was in a heap on the floor.

“Oh, Baylor,” Hobie said to the unconscious woman.

“Hey, mate. Come on, wake up.” Juliana lightly slapped Baylor’s face a few more times until she saw that she was coming around.

“Stop that!” Baylor pushed Juliana’s hand away.

“She’s back to her testy self.” Juliana looked up at Hobie.

“I guess that means she’s fine,” Hobie said. “Baylor, can you stand up?”

“I thought I was,” Baylor said.

“Okay then.” Juliana shook her head with a chuckle. “Up you go, mate.”

Hobie looked Baylor over and peered into her eyes before declaring that, while she was inebriated, she hadn’t hurt herself.

“My God, you weigh a lot,” Juliana said to Baylor, who leaned heavily against her. “I better get you home.”

“Here, let me give you a hand.” Hobie moved to Baylor’s other side and slipped her arm around her waist. They made their way from the party, Baylor in the middle with her arms around Juliana and Hobie’s shoulders.

“I hate to make you do this,” Juliana began, “but I’m not sure I can handle Miss Temperance here by myself.”

“No problem,” Hobie said. “That’s my pickup over there. We can all fit in the front seat.”

Baylor’s legs had trouble moving at a steady pace. Her knees seemed to turn to liquid with every few steps, and the cast made things worse. She rocked between her two navigators until she nearly hung on Hobie.

“You smell good,” she slurred. “Thank you.”

“I mean you smell really good. Doesn’t she smell good, Jules?” Baylor swung her head toward her old friend.

“A veritable flower garden,” Juliana said.

“I’m serious.” Baylor looked between the two women with the childlike expression that only someone who is quite drunk can muster up. “You always smell so good.”

“All right, enough smelling. Duck your head and get in there,” Hobie ordered with a smile when they reached the truck.

They rode in silence until Baylor began nudging Hobie’s elbow.

“What?” Hobie finally blurted out in exasperation. “I don’t feel so good.”

“Oh, no, you don’t, Baylor Warren. If you throw up on me, I swear I will toss you into the pickup bed.”

Juliana laughed at Baylor’s expression. “You better pull over, Hobie.”

As soon as the truck stopped, it took all of five seconds for Baylor to bolt from the cab and lose the contents of her stomach. A packaged moist towelette and a few mints later, Baylor settled herself in the pickup once more.

“I feel much better. Where are we going now?” Baylor may have felt better, but she continued to slur her words badly. “I have an idea,” Hobie said.