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Susan X. Meagher - Arbor Vitae.docx
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Chapter Three

Early on a Monday morning, Abby double-knotted the laces on her running shoes, then grabbed the retractable leash and called to the dogs, "Walkies, walkies!" The pair came scampering through the house and slid across the entry floor to come to rest right in front of their mistress. "I'll never know how you manage that," she mused aloud. She usually used two leashes, to allow the dogs to examine separate scent trails, but when she ran, it worked much better to attach both of them to a coupler and a single leash. They were forced to stay together, but neither of them seemed to mind so long as they were with their favorite person.

The previous day's weather report had influenced Abby's decision to get the girls their exercise early in the morning. They didn't like the heat, and she was loath for any of them to exercise in smog. They started off, heading for the Rose Bowl - which the dogs loved since it was a popular place for pooches to gather, giving them many sniffing opportunities.

Abby liked to run, but when she was being serious about it, she wanted to run fast and without interruption. She and Will used to go for a long run after dinner, when the air was cleaner and the cool breeze finally made its way from the ocean into the San Gabriel Valley. An evening jog would still be her preference, but she found that she was more cautious since Will had died - less confident of being out alone after dark. Chapter of her reason for getting the dogs was to give herself a little protection when she ran, and, in some ways, her plan had worked. The dogs were big enough - about fifty pounds each - to look like they could protect her. Strangers didn't need to know that the pair would run and hide the second they perceived a threat. But her one hundred pounds of canine muscle stopped and sniffed more than they ran, so she got her aerobic exercise in other ways - and made the morning run a time for the dogs to enjoy themselves.

They were about halfway to the Rose Bowl when she heard a familiar voice calling out to her. "Will you three slow down?"

She did, lengthening her stride and slowing her pace. Her friend Ellen Chenoweth finally came up alongside her, and the dogs immediately started to frantically lick the salt and sweat from her bare legs. The woman gazed at the pair fondly and petted each dark head. "It's a little odd," she said, "but there's something nice about having another living creature act like you're the most delicious taste treat in the world."

"You mean Neil doesn't do the same?"

Ellen laughed and fell into place beside Abby as they started off again. "We're about twenty-five years past that 'even your sweat tastes good' period."

Neil and Will had been law partners, and the foursome had been friends since before Will and Abby were married. The Chenoweths lived just three blocks away, and their two sons had been fixtures in the Graham home when Abby's son, Trevor, was in school. "When are the boys coming home?" Abby asked. "Trevor won't be home long, but I know he'd like to see them."

"I'm still not sure what their plans are," Ellen said. "All I know is that they'll delay buying plane tickets until they have to pay full-fare."

Abby shook her head and laughed, knowing that her friend's observation would prove to be accurate. "Kids are always a challenge, aren't they?"

"They are indeed. So, what's up with your two?

"Hayley gets home before Trev, since he's going to spend some time with my parents. She doesn't have any plans - other than staying out late and lying by the pool, of course."

Ellen managed a quick glance at her friend and asked, "Does it bother her that Trevor's found such a wonderful summer project? I mean, going to Venice to work with an international committee of urban planners is a very big deal!"

Abby smiled, "I know it and you know it, but Hayley still thinks of him as a much older person. If he figures out how to make Venice the leading city in Italy, she won't be surprised or jealous."

Ellen laughed, wishing her sons could be happy for the other's success. They ran in silence for a few minutes, all four of them managing to keep a steady pace. But Ellen's thoughts kept returning to Trevor. Finally, she commented, "I was just thinking about how proud Will would have been of Trev."

"I know," Abby agreed. "I think about that every day. I wish he were here to see what a fine young man we've raised."

"Trevor's always been a gem," Ellen reminded her. "Will wouldn't be surprised. But you've done such a great job with both of the kids, Abby. I know it hasn't been easy for you."

"No, it's never easy raising kids, and doing it alone for the past five years has been hard. But it's paying off, Ellen. I'm confident that both of the kids have gotten through the worst part of their grief. I think I'm about ready to sit on the sidelines and let them care for their aged mom."

Ellen gave her friend a wry grin and tossed off a challenge. "Race you to the rose garden!" She took off at a sprint, and smirked to herself when Abby and the dogs went flying by her - the competitive spirit never far beneath the surface of Abby's calm demeanor. "Aged my ass!" she called to the fleet form.

Late that afternoon, Clancy was sitting at Abby's kitchen table, the pair going over the plans for the permanent plants that would bracket the new stream. They'd been working for over an hour and were just about to wrap up, when Clancy's cell phone rang. "Do you mind?" she asked Abby before she answered.

"No, please do."

Clancy pressed the talk button. "Hello."

"Hey, Clance, it's Michael. How mad would you be if I canceled for tonight?"

"How mad would I be? Let's see … this is my favorite activity of the whole week, and if you don't go, I won't go alone. So … I'd say that I wouldn't be mad, but I'd be disappointed. Why? What's up?"

"Oh, it's no big deal. One of the girls at work wants me to go on a double date with her and her boyfriend and a friend of theirs. I'll just tell her I can't make it. No biggie."

"Level with me, Michael. What do you want to do?"

"Well, I like going dancing with you, but this girl is supposed to be really hot, and …"

"Go ahead and go," Clancy said, chuckling. "You haven't been out in weeks. You're gonna forget you're straight."

"No chance of that, blondie-blonde. Sure you don't mind? I hate to disappoint you."

"You don't do it very often, Mickey. It's okay."

"Cool. I'll tell you all about it later tonight or, even better, tomorrow if I get lucky."

"Have fun, bud. Talk to you later."

She put her phone back on her belt, smiling to herself.

"Michael?" Abby asked.

"Yeah. We go dancing on Monday nights, but he has a chance to go out on a real date, so I excused him."

"Dancing?" Abby asked wistfully. "I love to dance. And I'm one of the few women who was lucky enough to marry a man who loved to dance, and he had to go and die on me. Where's the justice?"

"Actually, we're only taking lessons. I'm pretty good, but Michael's a rank beginner."

"Really? What kind of dancing are we talking about?"

"Country and western," Clancy said, giving her friend a slightly embarrassed smile.

"Country and western?" Abby asked. "Like square dancing?"

"No, more like line dancing. It's very 80's, but a lot of gay people are still into it." She laughed and said, "Well, a lot of people are into it, gay and straight, but it's pretty dated here in L.A."

"It sounds like fun," Abby said. She paused a moment and said, "Why don't I go with you?"

"You?"

The younger woman's expression was so incredulous that Abby was a little wounded. "It was just a suggestion …"

"No, no," Clancy said, seeing the hurt. "I'd love to have you go, but we take the lessons at a gay bar, Abby. Would you be comfortable going to a place like that?"

"Clancy, my best friend in college used to drag me to a leather bar on Sunday afternoons for a beer bust. I've probably been to more gay bars than you have."

Her face beginning to light up, Clancy asked, "Are you sure? I'd love to take you."

"What do I wear, and when will you pick me up?"

Clancy returned to Abby's at seven o'clock, rang the bell, and almost fainted dead away at the vision that greeted her.

Abby raised her fingers and snapped them in Clancy's face. "Are you in there?"

"Wha …? Oh! Damn, I zoned out for a minute," Clancy said, trying to think of an excuse for staring at her friend for so long. "I must be more tired than I thought."

"Are you sure you want to go?" Abby asked. "We could do this another night."

"And have you waste this outfit? No way. Besides, I'll get my second wind once we start dancing."

"Do I really look all right? I tried to follow your advice and dress so I'll stay cool, but I haven't worn this since the last time we went riding, and I'm a little uncomfortable."

"You look great!" Clancy exclaimed. "Really great. Do you ride locally?"

"Oh, no. Will and I used to take the kids to a ranch in Colorado for a week or so in the summer. We went for almost eight years," she said. "It was a great way for the family to bond: no TV, no phones, no radio. We loved it."

"Well, you'll certainly fit in tonight," Clancy said.

"You look like a native yourself." Clancy was wearing black jeans, a lavender tank top, and a pair of dark purple cowboy boots. She carried a cream-colored straw hat in her hand, and she settled it onto her head at Abby's comment. "Very nice," the older woman said.

The architect followed Abby into the house, checking her friend out thoroughly from behind. The taller woman was even taller than normal, wearing scuffed, black boots with decorative bits of metal on the toes. The boots poked out from beneath the hems of a very faded pair of boot-cut jeans that fit her like a second skin, making Abby look more like a working cowgirl than a poseur. But the element that caught and held Clancy's attention was the thin, sleeveless, chambray shirt, tucked neatly into the jeans. Abby had a tendency to wear rather loose-fitting clothes, and Clancy had never had the opportunity to see all of her curves when she was fully dressed. She'd seen her in her swimsuit, but something about this look was even sexier than that, and Clancy was very, very pleased with the way the evening was shaping up.

They walked into the kitchen, and Abby grabbed a black, felt cowboy hat, brushed off a spot of dust, and bowed graciously to her friend. "Shall we?" she asked, "I'm ready to kick up my heels, pardner."

They arrived at the bar at 7:30, and the crowd was still very light. They each paid the $5 cover, but Clancy insisted on buying the first round. "What'll it be?" she asked, as they made their way to the bar at the back of the large room.

"What are you having?" Abby asked.

"Whiskey, water back," Clancy said. "Makes me feel like a cowboy."

"Make it two," Abby said, settling the black hat onto the back of her head.

They took their drinks and sat on stools at a small, round table. "It's not fancy, but it's pretty comfortable," Clancy said.

"It's very nice," Abby said. "Much nicer than the places I used to go with Steven. This place is friendly, too. I used to get the nastiest looks when I went to some of his favorite spots. In the seventies, most gay men didn't like to socialize with women."

"There are still a few places in West Hollywood that are like that," Clancy said. "But most of the places here in the San Gabriel Valley are just fine."

Abby looked around and noticed some couples already on the dance floor. "Boy, some of these people are good."

"Yeah, there's a group of people who come all the time, and lots of them have been dancing for fifteen or twenty years. I look like I've got two left feet compared to most of them, but I still enjoy it."

"I think this will be fun," Abby decided. She took her shot of whiskey and drained it in one gulp, then took a sip of water. "Smooth," she said, grinning and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand just like a cowpoke. "Another?"

"Uhm … sure," Clancy said, draining her own glass. "I dance much better when I lose some of my inhibitions."

"I do, too," Abby agreed. "Although there's a fine line between losing my inhibitions and losing my mind. You'll stop me before I start dancing on the bar, won't you?"

"I'm not sure I'm the one you should rely on," Clancy said, laughing. "That's kinda like asking the fox to watch the hen house. Michael always says I'm absolutely fine and then absolutely drunk - with no warning whatsoever."

"I haven't been drunk in years," Abby said. "I'm not even sure I'd recognize the warning signs."

"I usually know a few people here," Clancy said, giving her friend a grin. "I'll ask an unbiased observer to keep an eye on us."

They got through the instruction for the first dance without difficulty - but that was with the music playing at half-speed. As the music picked up, Abby struggled a little, but by watching her more proficient accomplice, they were able to do a fairly decent job. "You're good," Abby said, grinning at her friend.

"Thanks. We've been doing this since Christmas, and it's starting to sink in. I can tell you're a dancer, by the way. You catch on really quick."

"Years of ballet," Abby said, rolling her eyes. The instructor let them use the same step for three consecutive songs, and by the last one, they were both doing quite well, even at full speed. The dance was a fairly energetic one, and by the time it was over, they were both panting. "Damn, I need a breather," Clancy said. "How about another round?"

"Okay, but get me two glasses of water this time," Abby said. "I'm parched."

Clancy knew a few people at the crowded bar, and by the time she'd chatted with them and pushed through the growing throng to buy drinks, a good ten minutes had passed. Moving away from the group, she saw that a woman had claimed her stool and was sitting very close to Abby. Striding over to the pair, Clancy set the drinks down, giving the woman occupying her seat a level stare. "Sorry, but I didn't bring one for you."

"I'm not thirsty," the dark haired, tough-looking woman said, turning her attention back to Abby.

Clancy tapped the woman on the shoulder and said, "You're in my seat, and you're chatting up my date. This is a big bar, and there's a big crowd. Now go find your own seat and your own woman." Narrowing her eyes, she added, "Now would be a good time."

"I told you I wasn't alone," Abby said, shrugging her shoulders at the interloper.

"She was gone forever," the woman said, addressing only Abby. "Anyone who leaves a good-looking woman like you alone for that long can't be too interested."

Clancy settled her hat on her head, then put her hand around the woman's bicep and started to squeeze. After just a few seconds, the intruder hopped off the chair, wincing noticeably. "Thanks for being so cooperative," Clancy said with a fake smile. "Don't come again now, ya hear?"

As the woman skulked away, rubbing her arm, Clancy tipped her hat back, exposing a bit of blonde hair, and said, "Sometimes a woman's gotta do what a woman's gotta do."

Abby had been quietly laughing, and she placed her hand on Clancy's arm. "That was so much fun!"

Giving her a curious smile, Clancy asked, "Fun? Really? I was afraid that would make you uncomfortable."

"No, not at all!" Abby insisted. "That's the most interest anyone's shown in me in five years! I was just about to leave with her, but I didn't want to be rude. Mama always said to dance with the one that brung ya."

The look on Clancy's face nearly caused Abby to fall on the floor in hysterics. "I'm kidding, Clancy," she gasped. "Kidding!"

"Jesus Christ," Clancy said, dropping her head into her hands. "I was sure you were serious!"

"Nah. I prefer blondes," the older woman teased, taking her drink and throwing her head back to drain it. "Let's dance!"

During their next round of instruction, the women got separated when the dancers formed into long rows to execute the moves. Abby was right in the middle of the first row, and Clancy was near the end of the third. The dance was one of the slowest, sexiest ones that Clancy knew, and she was just about to go up and give the instructor a big kiss for choosing this particular night to feature it.

Watching Abby much more than her own feet, Clancy closely observed her friend as she hooked her thumbs into her belt loops and swayed her hips to the beat, doing a slow, sexy, bump and grind. She had her hat pulled down low, and her gray flecked hair showed just a bit under the black felt, providing a very attractive contrast. With the toe of her boot, Abby drew a long, wide line across the floor, then stomped her boot sharply and executed a full turn. Clancy was so mesmerized that she was the very last person to turn - almost allowing Abby to catch her staring. Good God, she's got a sweet ass! What in the hell is wrong with the men in this town? There aren't enough twenty-five-year-old actress-model-whatevers to go around, fellas. Wake up and see the hot women waiting for you, you fools!

After another half hour of nonstop dancing, Abby caught Clancy's eye and nodded towards the bar. They met up at the edge of the dance floor, and Abby loosely draped her arm around her friend. "How about a little whiskey and a lot of water?"

"Let's do it," Clancy said. "My turn to buy."

"Are you sure?" Abby asked. "I thought it was my turn."

"I have no idea," Clancy said, chuckling. "But I've got ten bucks in my pocket, and it wants to get spent. Have a seat, pardner."

While they were trying to re-hydrate, the instructor thanked everyone for coming and jumped down off the small stage. "Is that it?" Abby asked.

Smiling at the disappointed look on her friend's face, Clancy said, "You've got a hell of a lot of energy stored up there, doncha?"

"This is fun!" Abby said, her excitement obvious. "I really do love to dance, and this is more energetic than most dancing. It's like taking an exercise class as well as a dance class."

"Yeah, you can really work up a sweat," Clancy agreed.

"Are you having fun?" Abby asked, her voice gentling as she gazed into her friend's eyes.

"I'm having a blast," Clancy said. "I think I'm gonna give Michael his walking papers and bring you every week."

"Oh, I don't want to break up a good partnership," Abby said, giving Clancy a quick pat. The next song began, and Abby watched the dancers start to move. "Oh! A two-step. Do you know how?"

"Sure do," Clancy said. "Shall we?"

They made their way to the dance floor, but just as they reached the edge, Abby put her hand on Clancy's arm. "Uhm … I've never danced this way with a woman."

Looking up at her with a concerned expression, Clancy asked, "Does it make you uncomfortable?"

Abby blinked at her, then broke out in a laugh. "No, no, I just wondered how we decide who leads?"

Clancy put her hand on the small of the taller woman's back and urged her forward. "That's easy - I lead. I always lead," she added with a rakish wink.

Both women were slightly awkward with each other for a moment as they aligned themselves properly. Even though the two-step position was casual, Clancy felt her heart rate pick up when Abby drew close and lightly gripped the landscaper's bicep. "Ready?" Clancy asked, her mouth a little dry as she looked up and met the older woman's eyes.

"Lead me."

They started to glide around the edge of the floor, with Clancy holding her head up high, leading Abby with a sure, confident style. They moved well together, their thighs brushing lightly during their long, graceful strides. After moving around the floor several times, Clancy raised an eyebrow and asked, "Wanna get wild?"

"Wild is my middle name," Abby said, chuckling. "Give me your best shot."

Ooh, would I ever love to, Clancy thought, nearly swooning. "Up for a little change of pace?"

"Yep. What'll it be?"

"How about a quick, quick, quick, quick, slow?" Clancy asked. "Get your heart pumping a little."

"Lead the way, pardner."

Clancy did, and they started to move quickly around the floor, using the far outside of the circle to avoid running into the slower dancers. Ooo, baby, if she can follow my lead this well, I'd love to see her moving under me in bed. I bet she's fan-fucking-tastic!

"Is that all you've got?" Abby asked, taunting her partner.

"Far from it. Know this one?" Clancy moved Abby off the floor to explain the step. The older woman was unfamiliar with it, but she was a good student, and after a few slow run-throughs, they were back at it.

At a slightly slower pace, they moved against each other, lightly trailing their hands over each other's bellies, then Clancy turned to face in the same direction as Abby, both of them stepping backwards while they held hands. Clancy spun her partner once, then they pivoted away from each other with Abby spinning another one-and-a-half times. They both faced forward, then Clancy spun her again, ending up in their starting positions. "Damn, you're good," Abby murmured.

"That's what all the ladies say," Clancy said, showing her most winning grin.

"I don't doubt it," Abby said, laughing heartily. "I don't doubt that for one minute."

They danced for so long that both women were completely sober by the time Abby looked at her watch and said, "Good Lord, Clancy, it's almost midnight! You have to work in the morning."

"Yeah, I do," she agreed, "but I'm having so much fun, I don't care."

Draping an arm around her shoulders, Abby said, "Well, I care about you. You work hard, and you need your rest. Let's hit the trail."

"Oh, all right, but only if you promise to come with me again," Clancy said.

"I might be here by myself the next time you come," Abby said. "The dancing's great, the whiskey's good, and the girls are sweet on me!"

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