Chapter Ten

The next day, Hayley came home from her overnight and took a long nap. She got up while the crew was taking its lunch break and sat in the kitchen, staring outside with a scowl on her face.

"What's going on inside that frown?" Abby asked, ruffling her hair on the way to the laundry room.

"I hate having them here. We should have waited until fall. I can't even use the pool."

"You have friends who have pools," Abby reminded her. "And you can always go to the Rose Bowl to swim."

"I don't have my own car," Hayley whined. It was her mother's least favorite tone of voice.

"You can use Trevor's old bike, and you can use my car when I don't need it, honey. You can drive me to the golf course on the mornings I play. I can get a ride home."

"I don't wanna get up at 7:00 just to give you a ride," Hayley said. "And nobody rides a bike for transportation once she's in college."

Abby realized this was one of the times that her daughter didn't want to brainstorm to figure out a solution to her problem. She wanted to gripe. And since Abby didn't like to hear griping, she started to go back upstairs to give herself a timeout. She was almost out of the kitchen when Hayley said, "I think I'll go to Maine now. There's nothing much going on for the next two weeks."

"But I already bought your ticket," Abby said. "I'm not sure we can change it."

Hayley gave her a puzzled look and said, "You can change it. You might have to pay a fee, but that's no big deal."

Abby looked at her for a moment, then cocked her head. "Why would I have to pay a fee? I didn't change my mind at the last minute."

"Oh, please!" Hayley got up and put her cereal bowl in the sink. "You can afford a couple of hundred bucks, Mom."

"Of course I can," Abby agreed, "but I'm not going to pay for you to change your ticket."

The girl turned and stared at her mother. "I thought you understood! I can't stay here with Clancy outside! A couple of hundred dollars means nothing to you! Nothing!"

"Hayley, it's not about the money; it's about being accountable for your decisions. I paid to send you to Maine when you wanted to go. If you want to change your ticket, you'll have to use your own money."

"Thanks," Hayley said, biting off the word. "Thanks for helping me out. I worked like a dog to make a little money, and now I have to spend it just to have a decent summer!" As she walked up the stairs, she was mumbling loudly enough for Abby to hear. "It wasn't about the money when I wanted a car, it wasn't about the money when I wasn't allowed to go skiing over Christmas, it wasn't about the money when I couldn't go to an out-of-state school -" Her slamming door shut off her litany of complaints.

Abby closed her eyes and counted to ten, not wanting to continue the fight. She knew she was helping Hayley out, but she also knew that it would be years, if ever, before her daughter realized it.

Even though Abby wasn't concerned about telling her friends or her family about her new-found affection for another woman, she was tremendously nervous about the dinner she and Clancy were to attend with the O'Connors. She changed clothes three times, tentatively deciding on a pair of cream-colored linen slacks and a sky-blue, cotton sweater vest. She answered the door a few minutes later, finding Clancy in a bright red and white Hawaiian print shirt, a pair of faded jeans, and her Birkenstocks. "Pretty dressed up for the O'Connors," she teased. Taking a look at Abby's scrunched-up brow, she asked, "Are you weirded out about this?"

"Yes! I want them to like me, Clancy. I really want to make a good impression."

"How could you not?" She put her arms around Abby's waist and hugged her close. "Anyone with a brain would like you - and my parents both have functioning brains. My gramma will be crazy about you, too, Abby. Just relax and be yourself."

"All right," she grumbled, heading for the back door to let the dogs out one last time.

Abby took a few calming breaths as they walked up the drive of the O'Connor home. "You're sure this is okay?" she asked again, pointing at her outfit. "I don't want to look too much older than you, but I'd feel silly going to your parents' house in jeans."

Clancy stopped. "Abby, you look lovely. This is what you're comfortable in. You don't need to put on an act. You are who you are, and I don't want you to change a thing. You believe me, don't you?"

Grasping her arm with both of her hands, Abby gave her a squeeze. "I do. I'm just so nervous."

"Let me calm you down a little," Clancy purred, slipping her arms around Abby's waist to give her a warm, soft kiss.

The front door opened, and John O'Connor stepped out, giving them a smile when he saw their embrace. "Will you two give it a rest? Gramma's got a weak heart, ya know."

Abby flushed deeply, only partially relieved when Clancy said, "Her heart's stronger than yours, Dad, and the last time she needed babying was in about 1925." When they reached the door, Clancy gave her father a hug and kissed his cheek. "You'd better be the one who starts behaving, Dad. If you scare Abby off, I'm gonna hurt ya."

"You don't scare off that easy, do you, Abby?" he asked, extending his hand for a shake.

"No, I'm pretty hardy, John. I'm not used to a lot of teasing though - so you might have to bear with me for a while."

"I can do that," he agreed. "Now come on in - I'm famished."

They walked into the modest frame bungalow and were immediately greeted by Margaret. "Getting Clancy home for a Saturday night dinner is quite a feat," she said, shaking Abby's hand. "Thanks for your help."

"It wasn't my doing," Abby said. "Clancy really wanted to come."

"Come on in and meet my mother," Margaret said. She led them into the kitchen where a small-boned, fleshy, redheaded woman stood at the sink, shucking corn. "Mom, Clancy and her friend are here."

The woman turned and gave her granddaughter a wide smile. "Turn off the damned TV so an old lady can hear, will ya, Bitsy?" Clancy did as requested and gave the elderly woman a hug and a kiss.

"Gramma, this is my friend, Abby. Abby, this is my grandmother, Eileen Donovan."

"Pleased to meet you, Ms. Donovan," Abby said, waiting patiently while Eileen dried her hands to shake.

"Call me Eileen," the older woman insisted. She looked from one woman to the other and twitched her head. "So this is your new girlfriend, eh, Bitsy?"

"Something like that, Gramma," Clancy said, slipping her arm around her grandmother's waist. "We're not engaged or anything, but I think of her as my girlfriend. Pretty, isn't she?"

Abby gave her a mostly outraged look, but Eileen agreed immediately. "Oh, she's pretty, all right. But why are you lettin' your hair turn gray, honey? Havin' color in her hair makes a gal feel young."

Deciding to play the game, Abby grasped Clancy's free hand. "Having Clancy around makes me feel young, and she likes it this way."

"I do," Clancy agreed, smiling at Abby with a toothy grin. "I think her hair and every other part of her is beautiful."

"Well, I guess that's all that matters," Eileen agreed. She gave Abby another long look, squinting in the poor fluorescent light. "What color was it when you were young?"

"Gramma!" Clancy cried. "Abby's still young!"

"That's okay," Abby said, seemingly not bothered by the older woman's bluntness. "My hair was jet black," she informed Eileen. "That's part of the reason I don't dye it. I really loved the color, but jet black hair on an older woman really looks dyed."

"Eh, who cares if it looks dyed? My hair was a mousy brown when I was a girl, and now I'm thinking about going blonde like my little bits here. People will think we're sisters." She threw her head back and laughed heartily, and Abby was struck by the similarities between Clancy and the older woman. "Time to get busy, girls. We've got chicken to barbeque. Who's gonna do it?"

"I will," John said, walking over to the sink and giving his mother-in-law a friendly pat on the back. "I've been doing the barbequing for over thirty years, Eileen. Get used to it."

"You never know," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "Things change." Giving the younger women a cheerful look, she said, "Well, you two can make a salad then. I've done my share."

Abby blinked at her, extremely unaccustomed to the ultra-casual attitude of the O'Connor/Donovan household. But when Clancy started to wash her hands before getting to work, Abby joined right in and helped her make a large green salad, including cucumbers, tomatoes and carrots from John's extensive backyard garden.

When they were finished, Margaret took over and prepared corn on the cob and some steamed broccoli, the latter also from the garden. By the time she was finished, John was coming in the back door with the chicken, a deep red sauce dripping from the succulent-looking pieces.

They ate at the kitchen table, a breeze coming in the backdoor, bringing in the sweet scent of a magnolia tree.

"Everything is absolutely delicious," Abby said, complimenting all of the various cooks. "And the vegetables are amazing, John. So fresh and sweet."

"We'll have you back when the corn comes in," he promised. "If you can get it into a pot of boiling water within five minutes of picking it, you won't recognize it as the same stuff you buy at the grocery."

Abby lifted the cob she was working on. "This seems pretty darned delicious to me."

"He's not kidding, Abby," Clancy chimed in. "Fresh-picked is a whole different experience." Looking at her father, she asked, "Middle of July, Dad?"

"Maybe even a week early," he said. "Don't worry; we won't forget you."

Eileen cocked her head after assessing Abby for a few minutes. "So, what's your story, Abby? You from around here?"

"Oh, yes. Born and raised in Pasadena. I still live there."

"In the nicest house I've ever been in," Clancy added. "A beautiful Craftsman, Gramma - you know how much I like them."

"I do," she said, smiling warmly at her granddaughter. "So what else? We want details, honey. This ain't just a social call. We're trying to figure out if we like you."

Abby was momentarily taken aback, but the sparkle in the older woman's pale, sky-blue eyes assured her that Eileen was mostly kidding.

"Okay, I'll do my best to impress. Born here, went to school here. Graduated from UCLA with a history degree -"

"Oh, when did you graduate?" Margaret asked for no apparent reason.

Abby recognized her hidden question and said, "I'm forty-five, Margaret."

"Oh! Well, that's not why I …" she started to say, but a pointed look from her daughter forced her to capitulate. "Well, I did wonder …"

"It's fine," Abby said. "I'm not embarrassed about my age." She cleared her throat and took a sip of iced tea. "I was married after my freshman year and was pregnant by January. I gave birth to our son and went back to school after taking a semester off. I stayed at UCLA to earn a Master's Degree in history. I didn't think I'd ever use it, but I wanted to have something to fall back on in case I ever had to support myself."

"That's a smart move," Eileen said. "You can't ever rely on anyone else to take care of you."

Abby smiled at her, liking her feistiness, which reminded her of Clancy. "My husband was an attorney at O'Reilly and Monroe, and he died of a heart attack five years ago in May."

Eileen reached out and grasped Abby's hand, startling her a bit. "I lost my husband three years ago," she said, her eyes watery. "It's horrible, isn't it?"

"It was," Abby said, seeing the frank understanding that only someone who had gone through the experience could share. "It still is - but it gets easier as the days pass. I don't think I'll ever be entirely over it, though."

Giving her a small smile, Eileen shook her head and released Abby's hand. "No, I don't think so, either. My time's just about up, but you've got your whole life ahead of you, honey. Forty-five is nothing these days. I say it's time to kick up your heels a little."

"Oh, I think I've done that," Abby said, giving Clancy a shy smile. "Let's see … I told you about Trevor, who recently got his Master's Degree in urban planning at M.I.T., and there's also our second child, Hayley, who just finished her freshman year at UC Santa Cruz. I've never worked outside of the home, but I stay very busy. I play golf and tennis and I swim and I work with a few charities. My parents are both alive, and they live in Pasadena, also, although they spend their summers in Maine. Oh, and I have two dogs, both of whom love Clancy, and that's about it."

"Forgive me for asking," Margaret said, getting right to the heart of the matter, "but is this your … first time with a … in a … lesbian …"

Abby almost said that this would, indeed, be her first time in a lesbian, but she didn't think Margaret would appreciate the joke. "I've never dated a woman before, Margaret. I was very happily married, and I assumed that I'd eventually meet another man." She turned and smiled warmly at Clancy, very aware of the hand on her knee. "But I met Clancy, and something clicked between us." Turning back to the others, she asked, "Who can explain attraction?"

"That seems very … I've never heard of that happening before," Margaret said tentatively.

"Well, it's not very common in my experience either," Abby admitted. "It took me completely by surprise."

"It doesn't matter if other people do it, Mom," Clancy said. "Abby feels comfortable with this, and that's all that matters."

"Oh, of course, that's true," Margaret said, still looking unsettled. "And I certainly didn't mean to question your decision, Abby. I'm just not very knowledgeable about these things."

"We have a lot of things to work out," Clancy said, her gaze sweeping across all of the members of her family. "We're just dating right now, okay?"

"No problem," John said. "We won't put your name on the Christmas card yet, Abby."

"You don't even put my name on the Christmas card," Clancy scoffed.

"I would if you chipped in for half," John said. "Nobody gets a free ride, ya know."

"Yeah, yeah," Clancy said. She got up and started to clear the table, waving Abby off when she tried to help. "What did you make for dessert, Mom?"

"How do you know I made dessert?" Margaret asked, raising an eyebrow.

"'Cause you always do when we have company. You're the best baker in the valley, and you know it." She leaned over and kissed her mother on the top of the head, and Abby smiled at the affection that Clancy showed her family.

"I don't know about the best baker title, but I did whip up a lemon meringue pie," she said. "With fresh lemons from our tree," she added for Abby's benefit.

"Ooh, my favorite," Abby said, smiling. "I could eat lemon meringue pie anytime, anywhere."

"You're in luck, because Mom makes a fabulous one," Clancy said.

Abby smiled at Margaret and said, "I'd love your secret. I've tried many times, but the meringue never sets right."

"I'll give you a few pointers," Margaret agreed, returning her smile. "It's Clancy's favorite, too, so you'd better learn how to make it." Abby felt her heart skip a beat at the multi-layered look that the slightly older woman gave her. She wasn't able to read it all, but something about her tone indicated that Margaret was giving her tacit approval to the pairing, and Abby fervently hoped she understood the signals properly - because she very much wanted these people not only to tolerate, but to approve of her.

"Did you have fun?" Clancy asked after they had said their goodbyes and were settled in the truck.

"Fun? Was it fun?" Abby asked, narrowing her eyes as though she were deep in thought. "Well, once dinner and the inquisition were over, I started to have fun, but before that I was a nervous wreck!"

"That's so cute!" Clancy impulsively pulled Abby close and kissed her enthusiastically. "You were absolutely charming tonight, Abby. Thanks for trying so hard."

"I know your family means a lot to you, Clancy. Of course I'd be worried about making a good impression." She batted her eyelashes shyly and asked, "Do you think they liked me?"

"Of course they did! Everyone likes you, Abby. You're one of the most likeable people I've ever met." She gave her another few kisses and said, "When Dad was giving you a tour of the garden, Gramma pulled me aside and told me that you were a keeper." Placing a kiss on the tip of Abby's nose, she added, "That's high praise."

"She's a pistol," Abby said. "I see a lot of her in you, you know."

Clancy's face grew serious and she said, "I hope that's true. She means the world to me, Abby. She's always been there for me - without question."

"Did she always live with you?"

"No. We lived with my grandparents until I was five or so. My dad was struggling to get his business started, and my parents didn't have enough money for a down payment on a house. We stayed with them until we bought our current house. Then about … I'd guess it's been seven or eight years … my grampa's health started to fail, and they moved in with us so we could all help care for him. So, we've lived together often, but not constantly."

"It's obvious how fond she is of you," Abby said. "I particularly like the nickname she has for you."

Clancy covered her eyes briefly and shook her head. "Bitsy is one of the better ones. You'll be amazed at how many embarrassing names she has for me."

"Well, I think it's cute. I can just imagine you as an itsy bitsy little thing."

"Better watch it there, Abby. I'm going to meet your parents some day, and I'm sure I'll learn a few embarrassing things about your youth. Tread carefully."

"Okay, Bitsy. I'll mind my manners." She snuck her hand up around Clancy's neck and pulled her closer, then went for her lips, kissing her with a rapidly rising fever.

"Being happy makes me hot," Clancy whispered, "and I'm very, very happy." She set upon Abby's lips with a vengeance, pressing the older woman against the door of the truck. Jumping when she heard a soft knock on the windshield, Clancy sat up and looked out the open driver's door window. "Oh, Jesus!"

"Your, uhm, your mom wanted you to take the rest of the pie," John said, looking slightly less embarrassed than he had the first time he'd caught them.

"We actually talk and eat and do all sorts of things together, Dad," the blonde said, scooting over to accept the pie. "We're not always making out."

"Fine with me if that's all you do," he said, chuckling. "If ya wanna build up a little nest egg, put a buck in a piggy bank every time you have sex during the first year you're together, then take a buck out every time you have sex for the rest of your lives. If ya live to be a hundred, you'll still have money left. Hell, if we'd done that, we coulda sent you to college!" He laughed heartily, then reached into the truck to give Clancy a playful punch on the shoulder. "I don't blame you a bit, Clance. She's a fine lookin' woman. Looks like she knows how to kiss, too."

"Does anyone know if it's possible to die of embarrassment?" Abby asked.

"Nah," Clancy assured her. "We'd all have been gone long ago. Embarrassing each other is the O'Connor family birthright."