Broken Faith Page 13

  Laughing softly, Marika stretched and settled back into the bubbles, letting her mind drift lazily over plans for the day. She had some legal work to do in the afternoon, having been unable to do much but recover on her couch the day before, and then she was due at Lee and Dana's for dinner that evening. The lawyer frowned a little at that thought. She really wasn't enthusiastic about her assistant joining them and was even a little irritated that Lee had invited her. It wasn't that she disliked Rhiannon, but Marika had no desire to socialize with the young woman either.

  Her thoughts turned to her assistant and the two weeks that Rhiannon had worked for her. As Len Owen had promised, the legal assistant was more than proving her worth in the office. Sponge-like, she'd absorbed every bit of information that Marian could give her and was already demonstrating initiative in some of the more delicate cases that Marika handled.

  They'd had a Jordanian client in the office that week. The woman was claiming refugee status on the grounds of fearing familial persecution if she was returned to her country. She'd fled an arranged marriage with a man she despised, seeking sanctuary with an aunt in Canada. Marika had filed the client's paperwork several weeks previously and was surprised to see the woman enter her office in a panic on Wednesday. The Jordanian's hearing was still months away, and she hadn't expected to see her so soon.

  The woman had been frantic and in tears when she'd hurried into the office. Marika had been on the phone with another client, but had noticed through her open door how Rhiannon had quickly taken the woman in hand, soothing and talking to her until Marika could finish her call. By the time the lawyer brought the client into her office, the woman had calmed enough to tell Marika of the situation that left her so frightened.

  Her client's aunt had received word through relatives in Jordan that her nephew had tracked his sister to Canada. Furious that his sister had disgraced her family by backing out of the marriage their father had arranged, he was coming to the country to either take her back or avenge the family honour. As the woman broke down, terrified at what her brother would do if he found her, Rhiannon sidled quietly into the office and laid a piece of paper on her desk.

  Marika glanced up curiously at her assistant and then back at the address and phone number on the paper. The young woman whispered, "I've made arrangements at the Immigrant Women's Shelter for them to take her in as long as necessary. If you like, I'll take her over there now." Turning to the sobbing client, Rhiannon had knelt beside her and laid a reassuring hand on her arm. "You'll be safe there. Your brother won't be able to touch you."

  The woman had nodded and clung desperately to her assistant's hand as Rhiannon gently led her out of the office. Marika stared in amazement after them, marveling at how smoothly and quickly the situation had been handled. She'd barely gotten a word in edgewise before the incident was resolved. When her assistant returned an hour later, she'd tried to compliment Rhiannon on her performance only to have her words politely but brusquely turned aside as the young woman resumed her work. Shaking her head in mild frustration, the lawyer had returned to her office, closing the door behind her.

  Marika rolled her eyes and groaned a little at the thought of spending a social evening in the prickly little woman's company. Oh well, at least Lee and Dana will be there, and for some reason, she actually seems to get along with Lee. With that thought as consolation, the blonde resolved to make the best of the situation and leave the bulk of the conversation to her old friend. Frankly she doubted if even Lee could coax more than a word or two out of her reticent assistant.

  She lounged in the tub until the cooling water drove her to climb out. Drying off, she observed her naked form critically in the mirror. She was well aware that she'd been a winner in the genetic crapshoot but she rarely dwelled on it. Aside from the occasional long walk, she didn't do anything in particular to maintain her slender shape. She did eat lightly, but that was more a matter of taste than any dietary inclination.

  Grimacing a little, she considered her 33 years, and mostly sedentary lifestyle, and decided she really should at least take up golf again. A momentary sadness darkened her gray eyes as she remembered her father teaching her the game as a little girl, a lifetime ago. Firmly she put that memory out of her thoughts and briskly finished drying herself off.

  Donning khaki shorts and a faded orange t-shirt, she headed for the kitchen to make a fresh pot of coffee. Standing at the counter, she grinned down at her cat as he wound himself around her legs and purred.

  "Oh sure, now you're going to suck up. I don't suppose it would have anything to do with food now, would it?"

  Spooky padded over to the pantry and sat in front of the door, eyeing her expectantly. "Aw, my poor starving boy," Marika said in mock-sympathy. "You're just wasting away to nothing, aren't you?"

  She gently nudged him aside, opened the door and was about to grab a tin of cat food off the shelf when the buzzer sounded from the lobby. Ignoring feline protests, she left the kitchen to answer her phone.

  "Hello?"

  "Hi, Marika, it's Terry." There was an unusual note of hesitancy in her friend's voice. "Can I come up?"

  "Of course. C'mon up," Marika reassured her, entering the code to release the door.

  Hanging up, she went to unlock her door then returned to the kitchen. She was in the process of emptying the tin into Spooky's dish when a soft knock sounded. "It's open," she called, and heard Terry enter.

  Straightening, she smiled at her friend, amused by the almost bashful look on Terry's face. The young woman thrust a brown paper bag at her.

  "I brought bagels," she volunteered and Marika accepted the peace offering graciously.

  "Hmm, they smell wonderful. Thank you. I just made a fresh pot of coffee. Would you like some?"

  Terry sniffed appreciatively. "Hazelnut?" she asked hopefully.

  "Of course. Why don't you get the cups down and I'll set the bagels out?"

  The two women worked in silent companionship for a few moments and then took their coffee, bagels and cream cheese to the kitchen table. Marika set out the small plates and knives, smiling to herself as she realized how naturally they'd slipped into their old habits. They even automatically took the same seats they always had in the breakfast nook.

  "Oh these are great, Ter. You must have gone down to Castle's," Marika enthused, biting into the cinnamon raisin bagel that was so fresh it still held a hint of warmth.

  Terry mumbled her confirmation around a mouthful and then washed it down with coffee before saying, "Yeah, it's not a bad drive on a Sunday morning. The traffic was pretty light."

  Marika nodded, knowing full well that Terry had to have spent almost an hour on the road to fetch her favourites and appreciating the effort her friend had gone to.

  They didn't say much until each had finished a bagel and was sipping the coffee. Then Terry sighed, and looking down at the tablecloth asked, "Are we okay?"

  Without any hesitation, Marika confirmed, "We're okay." She saw the barely visible release of tension as Terry's shoulders relaxed and a genuine smile brightened the younger woman's features.

  "Good." Terry's bright eyes held an expression of relief. "I'm really sorry I butted in, Marika. What you do is your business. We were just worried..."

  The lawyer laid a hand lightly on her friend's arm. "I know, but everything's all right–really."

  Marika could tell that Terry didn't believe her but was willing to let the subject drop for the moment. She was grateful for that, just as she was grateful that she had friends who so obviously cared about her, but she wasn't willing to open up the subject of Cass' role in her life for debate or inspection. She wasn't proud of her involvement with the mysterious woman and would rather everyone ignored it. Changing the topic she held up another bagel and joked, "I think I like your idea of olive branches better than Lee's. Much easier on the constitution."

  Terry laughed. "Yeah, I heard about that. I was talking to Dana last night and she said Lee was suffering severely, althou
gh she didn't sound too sympathetic about it. I take it you two over-served each other on Friday?"

  The blonde groaned in heartfelt agreement. "You'd think by now I'd know better than to get in a game of tequila shooters with that woman. I swear she could drink a whole regiment of soldiers under the table."

  "I think she has," Terry grinned as they both recalled Lee's war stories of her army days.

  Marika could feel the last of the residual tension slip away, and she luxuriated in the renewed sense of amity. Soon they were bantering as if the past couple of weeks had never occurred, and when Spooky jumped on Terry's lap to take his accustomed position, they both chuckled at the sheer familiarity of it.

  "Another cup?" Marika asked as she rose to refill her own mug. Terry held out her mug and the blonde carefully poured the fragrant brew. "So what's Jan up to this morning?" she asked casually, returning the carafe to its heating pad. When she didn't get an immediate answer, she glanced up to see Terry frowning slightly. Cocking her head, she regarded her friend.

  "Terry? Something wrong?" To her surprise, she found herself genuinely hoping that there wasn't and realized that she'd crossed a hurdle unawares. She could think of Terry and Jan as lovers without the pain she'd grown accustomed to. She wondered for an instant when that had happened, but set it aside for later introspection. Now she focused on her friend.

  Terry sighed and shook her head. "Not really. She is a little miffed at me though."

  "Want to talk about it?" Marika asked, resuming her seat and studying the other woman.

  "It's stupid, really," Terry muttered.

  "If it's bothering you or her, then it's not stupid." Marika marveled inwardly at the ease with which she fell back into her role as Terry's sage. The younger woman had turned to her for months now as she'd tried to reconcile her love for Jan with Jan's marriage to a man Terry deeply admired and liked. The lawyer enjoyed the trust and affection accorded her by the other woman, basking in Terry's confidence that Marika would always offer sound and uncritical counsel and be there when she was needed.

  Marika blinked with a sudden awareness that it was her fear of losing this, not an abortive love affair, that had caused her so much pain when Terry had finally consummated her romance with Jan.

  Her relationship with Terry was unique. The women in her life were either friends or lovers, and rarely both at the same time. Years ago she and Lee had progressed smoothly from being lovers to friends with barely a hiccup, and that friendship had become a cornerstone of her life. She and Terry had gone from a brief sizzling affair to one-sided antagonism to the beginning of a reluctant and wary friendship within mere months. That unlikely friendship had evolved into a solid relationship that Marika had learned to depend on. She realized that she'd come to love Terry as she would have her little sister had she been allowed to stay in the girl's life.

  Her mouth almost dropped open at the mental onslaught of revelations, and Marika had to wrench herself back to concentrate on what Terry was saying. Determinedly she focused on her friend.

  "Jan can't understand why I won't sleep at her house and why we always have to stay at my place," Terry was explaining. "I mean, she's fond of Michael and Claire, but she'd like to make love where we don't have roommates one floor down."

  Marika had an idea what lay behind her friend's reluctance, but didn't want to rush her. "Why don't you want to stay at her place?"

  Terry fidgeted uncomfortably causing Spooky to jump off his comfortable perch and then blurted, "Because it's his house!"

  Marika nodded, her suspicions confirmed. She took a long sip of coffee as she considered her answer. "Rob's gone, Ter. It's Jan's house now," she offered mildly. "You've spent a lot of time over there both before and after he died. What exactly makes you so uncomfortable?"

  The young woman grimaced. "I can't make love to his wife in his bed. It's...it's...ICKY!"

  The lawyer hid a small grin but couldn't help teasing--"That would be the proper psychological term, would it?" She ignored Terry's half-hearted glower and asked, "Have you talked this out with Jan?"

  When Terry didn't respond, she raised one elegant eyebrow. "Terry? You have told Jan this, haven't you?"

  "No."

  Marika had to strain to hear the mumbled response. With an exasperated sigh she asked, "How do you expect Jan to understand if you don't explain your feelings to her?"

  "She'll think I'm an idiot."

  Regarding her companion affectionately, Marika shook her head and chuckled. "That woman is so much in love with you that she thinks you walk on water." Leaning forward she said more seriously, "And before you end up disillusioning her, maybe you should think of compromising."

  Terry looked up at her in puzzlement. "Compromise? How?"

  "I assume there's more than one bedroom in the house?" When Terry nodded, Marika went on. "Why don't you try spending the night in one of the other bedrooms? Make one of the other rooms yours and hers. It doesn't matter if it's smaller, just that you can be comfortable there and keep your mind on Jan and your future, rather than the past. I'm sure if you explained this all to her, she'd be more than willing to adjust."

  Marika sat back, enjoying the look of relief and excitement that blazed across Terry's face.

  "That could work!" Terry jumped up enthusiastically and hugged Marika, who squawked as her coffee spilled. "Oops, sorry 'bout that." The young woman grabbed a dishtowel and dabbed ineffectually at the spreading stain on the blonde's t-shirt.

  "Go on, go talk to your partner," Marika urged as she took the cloth from Terry's hand and finished mopping up.

  She looked up to see her friend regarding her gratefully. She smiled as Terry said, "I don't know how to thank you." She knew her friend wasn't just talking about the morning's advice, but keeping it light, she said, "Consider it a fair trade for the bagels. Now get going, I've got work to do today."

  Terry grinned and planted a quick kiss on Marika's forehead before practically running out of the apartment. With a fond look after her departing friend, the lawyer walked back to her bedroom, peeling off the wet t-shirt as she went. With a brief wistful glance at her neglected piano, she sternly reminded herself of the depositions to be filed in the upcoming week.

  * * *

  Rhiannon carefully locked her bedroom door and picked up her small battered canvas knapsack. Walking down the stairs she wrestled with the strap that she'd repaired countless times but which had chosen today to break again. Nearing the base of the stairs she heard the front door open and groaned inwardly. She'd hoped to get out of the house before her aunt and the hen house returned. Looking up she was glad to see it was only Vera Rasmussen, to her mind, the least aggravating hen.

  "Oh, hello, Anne," the rotund woman said, eyeing her closely. "Are you on your way out?"

  "Yeah, I'm going to a friend's place for dinner," Rhi replied absently as she decided she'd have to tie the strap ends together as a temporary fix. Intent on her task she didn't realize that the rest of the hens had now entered until she heard her aunt's sharp, demanding tones.

  "Dinner? You're going out to dinner? With who?"

  Rhi grimaced. The last thing she wanted was an encounter with her aunt to sour her day. "You wouldn't know them," she bit off sharply, trying to edge by the women crowding the door.

  "Well you be cautious now, dear," Hettie said in her most unctuous voice. "Young girls can't be too careful out there. There are just far too many freaks and deviants in the world, and you know how I worry so about you. You really shouldn't go anywhere without letting me know the address and the phone number, just in case."

  Rhiannon had no illusions about her aunt's solicitude. She was well aware that Hettie was burning up with curiosity about her niece's unprecedented dinner invitation. She had no intention of allowing her aunt the slightest bit of access to her life, however, so she simply held her tongue and brushed by the women.

  As Rhi pushed through the door, she could hear her aunt's raised voice. "Girls, I think we should of
fer a prayer to keep our little Annie safe."

  The young woman gritted her teeth and kept walking even as she heard the women respond to Hettie's lead. She'd been subjected to ten years of the hen house praying loudly and ostentatiously for her soul and salvation, often as not in her enforced presence. The hardest to bear had been when they beseeched God to forgive Rhi for her blatant ingratitude for the blessings that had been so generously bestowed on her.

  Hurrying out the gate, she wondered which blessings they meant: the theft of her name, the loveless, miserly upbringing or the incessant hectoring about how she was clearly her father's daughter–synonymous with worthless, and her aunt's ultimate condemnation–and how she would be damned if she didn't change her ways.

  Heading for the bus stop, she amused herself by imagining a scenario where she coolly informed her aunt and the hens that she was on her way to a lesbian couple's house for dinner. She chuckled out loud as she pictured them all fluttering, aghast and wailing about heart palpitations. She could just see the dull red flush of outrage on her aunt's face. That image kept a smile on her face right up until she boarded her bus.

  * * *

  Marika turned onto the suburban street, downshifting as she neared a small park a few blocks from Lee and Dana's home. Staying alert for the small children who frequented the playground equipment, she let her eyes idly survey the park only to do a double take as she spotted a familiar figure.

  Her assistant was sitting on a bench under a tree reading a book. Marika blinked, momentarily unsure if she should stop but already past the park by the time she'd made up her mind. Deciding uncomfortably that it wasn't up to her to shepherd Rhiannon to Lee and Dana's, she kept driving until she pulled up in front of the corner ranch house.