On Hallowed Ground, Chapter 5 - Xena (part 2)

[calliopes_muse]

cont. from Chapter 5 (part 2)

 

In a few minutes, they were inside the house and Sam contemplated her next move. She needed to let her sit, but she was still dripping wet. She brought a dining room chair over. Riley hopped the short remaining distance and carefully sat down. She then bent down on one knee and started untying Riley’s shoes. She was extra careful not to jar the injured ankle any more than necessary, but it still didn’t stop Riley was sucking in air at the sharp ache radiating up her leg. When she was done, Sam stood back up and motioned for Riley to stay put.

“You can’t get on the couch the way you are. Sit. I’ll be right back.” Sam disappeared down the hall and Riley could hear drawers opening and closing. She was thankful now she didn’t have anything embarrassing hiding in those drawers. The blonde came back into the room with a t-shirt and shorts in hand. 

“Here you go. Once you change, then you can sit on the couch. It’ll be more comfortable there.” 

“Thanks,” Riley waited a moment but Sam never moved. She had never really been the shy type, but considering where they were at and the situation they were in, she didn’t want to give the wrong impression. “Um, Sam, do you…you know,” she tried to get her eyes to say what her mouth wouldn’t. Sam stood there apparently trying to process Riley’s meaning when it hit her.

“Oh, yeah! Sorry…sure. I’ll just, um, go get some ice.” Sam walked backwards as she talked, bumping into a bar stool on the way.

When she rounded the corner, Riley quickly changed her shirt and managed to get her pants off, but getting the dry pair up was another matter. Sitting on the chair, she got the shorts halfway up, but couldn’t go any further, so she stood instead to finish the job. Sam came barreling around the corner and nearly lost control of the glass of water in her hand at the sight she saw. 

“Oh!” Riley jumped at the sudden noise and flopped into the chair gracelessly. 

“Sorry,” Riley apologized even though the intrusion wasn’t her fault. 

Sam tried to hide her blushing cheeks by placing the items in her hand on the kitchen table, “It’s okay. Here, let me help you to the couch.” If she kept busy, it would keep her from thinking too much of the image she just saw.

She reached a hand to Riley, which the brunette readily took, and pulled her to her feet. Wrapping her arm around Riley’s waist, they made their way carefully to the soft cushions. Sam deposited Riley on the couch and slid over a stool for her to prop her foot on. 

“Much better, huh?”

Riley sighed in contentment, “Much.”

“Here,” Sam offered a glass of water and two aspirins to her patient.

“Thanks,” Riley downed both quickly, wanting and needed desperately for the pain to ease. She watched with a bemused expression as Sam took extraordinary care to fold and wrap a dish rag then drape it over Riley’s injured ankle. She then took the two bags of ice and placed each on either side of her ankle and securing it all with some heavy duty tape she found in the kitchen storage.

“Good wrapping job,” Riley wondered for a moment how many times Sam had wrapped and bandaged her own injuries. 

“Thanks,” Sam sat on the floor, looking like she didn’t know what to do with herself.

“Hey, you don’t have to hang out here. You have a party. Why don’t you go back?” Sam shook her head, the blonde hair dangling into her eyes. She pushed a lock back.

“No need. It pretty much runs itself anyway. I’ll just need to go back and do some cleanup later. That could even wait until tomorrow.” 

Riley smirked, “What are you gonna do? Sit there and watch me all night?”

“Nope. I was actually thinking of making you a homemade dinner, but if you really want me to leave, I guess you could always call for pizza.” The thought of the greasy food made her feel slightly queasy.

“Oh, well, in that case, stay as long as you like.”

Sam laughed as she stood, “I thought that would change your tune!”

Riley smiled at the noise coming from the kitchen. After a few minutes the commotion of banging pans and rattling utensils settled down to a dull roar. She could have sworn in her semi pain-induced haze that Sam was humming. As she rested her head back on the cushion, the thought occurred to her that she could get used to this. The brief happy feeling that brought was quickly replaced by the sickening awareness that anything she was feeling was based on a lie. Reaching for the remote, she found CNN and turned it up, effectively drowning out the joyous and off-key tune coming from behind her.

When Riley stirred, the sky outside was cast in orange and purple as the sun fell below the horizon and a fabulous smell permeated the house.

“You’re awake,” Sam came around the end of the couch carrying two overfilled plates containing heaping mounds of spaghetti. It wasn’t ordinary spaghetti because it wasn’t runny, so she knew that Sam didn’t get it out of a can. In fact, she could see actually hunks of meat and veggies in it. Her mouth watered as she finally noticed how hungry she was.

“Wow, that looks wonderful!” Sam smiled at the genuine comment.

“Thanks. Hopefully, it’ll taste as good as it looks. I tried something a little different with the sauce.” She set the plates down and went back to the kitchen. She came back with glasses and a sodas.

Riley felt like something was different, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“Is something wrong?”

“Um,” Riley looked around, “What’s different in here? Something feels…off.”

“Oh yeah, the lights,” she pointed overhead, then behind her back, “And the blaring TV.”

But there was light and sound and Riley chuckled at her oblivion. Accent lights were strategically placed along the wall to look like your average sconches and above the casing for the TV were glowing lights methodically ticking off the time to the jazz disc playing inside. She had never noticed it because she rarely spent more than an hour a day in front of the TV.

“What other secrets does this house hold?”

Sam smiled, digging into her dish, “Far too many probably.”

“Here? I doubt that.”

“Well, we may not be as fast-paced and fancy as Chicago, but we have our excitement.”

Riley laughed heartily, “Oh really? Like what? Oh, let me guess, the mayor was really married to his prize pig!”

Sam picked up her napkin and threw it at Riley, “You’re horrible.”

Riley smirked at the blonde, trying to think of another way to get her to laugh. She loved the sound of it, “Yeah, well, that’s me being good. If I started being really bad, you better run.”

Riley saw the hint of a blush on Sam’s cheeks and decided it was time to take a different path in the conversation. With renewed enthusiasm she focused on the dish in front of her, twirling up a large helping on her fork and savoring a healthy bite of food, “God, that’s incredible!”

“Thanks.”

“What did you do to it to make it so good?”

“Sugar. Just a little in the sauce. It takes the tanginess out of the tomatoes and makes them more flavorful.” Riley shook her head.

“Sugar…well, I can honestly say that’s not an ingredient I would have considered. You thought of that on your own?”

Sam nodded her head and stared at her plate shyly, “That’s pretty talented. Most people can’t cook off the cuff like that.”

Sam pushed around the food with her fork, not looking up at Riley, “It’s no big deal. I’ve had a lot of practice over the years.”

Both women looked up at each other. Sam’s eyes got huge as she sniffed the air. Jumping up, she ran to the kitchen.

“Ow…ow…crap!” The distinctive smell of burning toast finally reached Riley and she started to giggle.

When a dejected Sam appeared in front of her empty handed, Riley fought the urge, but couldn’t resist, “That was almost the perfect dinner. Is burned toast the newest culinary trend?”

Sam didn’t laugh at the joke and Riley didn’t want to run her off again, “Hey, it was great. Really. Actually, I’m not much on garlic toast anyway.”

Sam tossed the potholder she had been twisting in her hands down on the table, “Guess it worked out for the best then.”

“Yep, now come on, sit. Let’s finish dinner.”

A couple of hours later, they were laughing uncontrollably on the couch. Sam was doubled over and having a hard time catching her breath.

“I can’t believe you actually did that!” She gasped out.

Riley threw up her hands, “What?! I didn’t mean to. I swear. The guy just got too close to the pool table and the ball just happened to bounce off the table and into his crotch.”

Sam nodded, disbelieving, “Conveniently, after he hit on your girlfriend.”

“Yeah, well, if I had been smart, I would have realized she had been flirting with him all evening and instead should have made HER the target. Eh, she’s one I’d rather not think about. That was funny though. The poor guy never showed his face around there again!” Riley took her last swallow of soda and watched over her glass as Sam seemed to zone out for a moment.

“So, what about you?” Finally aware that she was being spoken to, Sam shook her head to get back in the conversation.

“What about me?”

“What’s the story with Boy Wonder from the picnic today?”

Sam rubbed at her forehead, before running her fingers through her hair and resting her head in her palm. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to get into this, but she really had no one else to talk to. 

“That was Bobby,” she froze up on what to say and how to say it.

“I gathered that much from the number of times you said his name. I also gathered that you two had been dating, but apparently, you’re not anymore and he’s not too happy about it.”

“Excellent summation,” Riley gave her a slightly bemused look. The journalist in her wouldn’t settle for half a story. She was curious to a fault and needed to know the rest of the story.

“But that’s not everything. People don’t break up without a reason.” Sam couldn’t look at Riley. “So, what’s your reason?”

Sam brought her hand down and started worrying at a cuticle, “You go right for the jugular don’t you?”

The brunette sensed she had a strong desire to shut down and was wrestling with opening up, “You can talk to me. It’ll all stay right here.”

Sam sat up and leaned forward a little, weighing the words in her mind. If she said it now, there was no going back. Saying it made it real. Her hands shook at how close she was to crossing a mental and spiritual line she had drawn so many years ago on that upstairs landing as she listened to the mother of the woman across from her, pray for a way to stop the words from spilling out. To say it, made it real.

Riley waited patiently as emotions darkened Sam’s deep green eyes. One moment the blonde looked set and determined, the next it looked like the world had buried her alive. Riley had this overwhelming urge to rush in and rescue her, but she didn’t even know what she would be saving her from or if she could. She could barely take care of herself. She decided to wait it out when Sam let out a deep sigh and finally spoke.

“I just don’t feel for Bobby the way he feels for me. He was talking about love and I’m pretty sure he was close to asking me to marry him. I couldn’t drag him down with my uncertainty. He’s a decent guy,” she smiled unconvincingly at Riley, the tears of what she had let go with Bobby coming to the surface, “he deserves someone who can love him back.” Sam let the words sit. She wanted to say more, to tell all that was eating her up inside, but the words wouldn’t come.

It took a moment for the familiarity of those words to sink in for Riley. Inside, she understood what Sam was trying to say but couldn’t find the courage for, or at least she wanted to believe that. She had felt the same way many times when she struggled between playing the games expected of her in her small town and her own sanity. Every action carries with it a price, and Riley had paid her fair share. When John had forced her hand, quite literally, one cool fall night after a football game, it was only then that she decided the price she’d pay for playing was too high.

Riley was one of the last ones at the school. A couple of teachers were in the front office closing up for the night after the post-football game dance, while Riley swept up streamers and styrofoam cups from the dance floor.

“It’s a shame for someone so pretty to not dance.” Riley jumped at the deep voice behind her. John Porter leaned against the metal door frame leading into the gym. A couple of his buddies were snickering behind him.

He turned to them, smiling, “Some privacy…please.”

They scattered into the night, leaving Riley alone in the dim room with him. She swallowed hard, not liking the situation. When he got closer, she could smell the sickly sweet scent of alcohol and stale pot.

“Come on, let’s dance.” He reached for her. “You know you want to.”

She pulled her hand back, “Not really.”

It had been around this time last year that Riley’s mother had come crying on his dad’s doorstep, confessing her daughter’s sins. Ever since, John had watched the tall, dark-haired girl pull further and further away. He felt something for her, and he was willing to offer her the perfect opportunity if she’d just listen to common sense.

“Why are you being so stubborn, Riley? You could have it all. Do you know how many girls would love to be standing here right now?”

Riley glared at John, knowing where this was going, but not sure how to play her hand to get out of this, “Yeah, actually I do so why don’t you go find one of them and leave me alone.”

He looked her over and smirked at her, “But knowing you can have something is not nearly as much fun as working for something more.”

He made another grab for her and she slap his hand away before he made contact, “Not many guys would bother with you, but I know there could be something beneficial in this for both of us.” He brushed his fingers along her cheek, making her flinch. “You get your respectability back and we get to have all kinds of naughty fun together.”

The implication of his words turned her stomach, “You’re a sick fuck.”

“No, I’m just practical.   Don’t be stupid. Take your chance while you can.”

Riley’s heart beat double time. She had to get out of there quick. She edged toward the doors where John had come through, “What does that mean?”

He shrugged and smirked at her evilly, “Whatever you want it to mean.”

Riley had a clear shot for the door and decided to take it. She refused to show fear and run, but she walked as fast as her legs would go to her car. John’s buddies were standing by his souped up sports car, leering and hooting at her as she moved away from them.

She never was alone with John again. In fact, she made a concerted effort to stay as far from him as possible. It was a natural extension of the situation that she withdrew even more from people. He was friends with everyone and she didn’t know who to trust. If playing along meant she had to live feeling like that every day of her life, she’d gladly pay whatever price she had to for remaining true to herself.

Riley’s gaze settled back on the blonde who had fallen uncharacteristically silent, “Don’t worry about what other people think, Sam. Just follow your own way.”

Sam set her head on the side of the couch, folding her arms around herself, as she studied the tall woman across from her, “This coming from somebody in an ex-gay camp.”

“Everyone has a reason for what they do. I have mine.” Riley sighed. At least that was partly true. She really hated this.

Sam didn’t look at Riley, her words taking on a far away quality, “It doesn’t work. People can’t change who they are. You know that, right?”

Riley looked at her quizzically, “You’re not exactly being encouraging. Don’t go into marketing. You really suck at it.”

Sam rolled over so she was staring up at the ceiling and chuckled, “This program isn’t meant to change you. We don’t tell anyone this because no one would sign up for what we’re offering.”

“Which is?”

“A lie. You learn to say your straight. Learn to act straight. Learn to deny your feelings. You don’t really change, you just deny.” Sam sounded angrier with each word.

“Why are you telling me this?” 

Sam looked back at Riley, letting her green eyes burn into blue ones, “Because you deserve to know. If it’s okay for me to follow my own way, shouldn’t you be able to do the same?”

She didn’t know what to say to that so instead she let them fall into silence. A sharp beep broke the silence and Sam looked at her watch.

“I need to go,” she stood to leave, “I have to check on my dad.”

Riley fought the urge to reach out to Sam, “John could do that.”

Sam turned to her at the door smiling, “Are you kidding? The Saints are playing. The return of Jesus Himself wouldn’t drag him away from the TV tonight. ‘Night, Riley.”

“Hey, Sam?” The blonde poked her head back in through the door.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks,” she pointed to her wrapped foot, “for everything.”

“Anytime.” With that she pulled the door closed, leaving Riley to her thoughts. She hadn’t taken any narcotic pain killers so she could count out hallucinating anything Sam had said. It was really too much to take in. She needed to talk this out, write it out…something.

After a moment of contemplation, she hobbled to her bedroom and got her laptop. She settled in and started writing. An hour later, she re-read the words on the screen. Biting her lip, she hesitated only a moment before going to her email and sending the file. Al should have it any moment. She had to talk to someone about this. Surely she wasn’t crazy. 

*******

Sneaking in through the back door, Sam avoided a very overly enthusiastic and inebriated John. She wished he would have the decency to keep the noise down with their father upstairs. Fortunately, the pain meds were strong enough to keep him pretty much oblivious, but she knew he had to be disturbed a little by all the racket.

She greeted the nurse who had stayed tonight, knowing John was going to be useless with football on. Her father could have screamed and yelled and John never would have heard him, and he probably wouldn’t have done anything but call her on her cell and yell for her to get home and tend to him anyway.

When she had the clear from the nurse that he would be good for the night, she went to her own room and dropped down on the bed. She was exhausted, but she couldn’t seem to shut her mind down.

It had been so hard for her to leave Riley earlier, and she was lying to herself if she acted as if it was only because Riley was injured. She liked being with her and talking to her, just being around her. She felt so torn. She was sick over what had happened with Bobby and there was a small part of her brain that mourned the loss and pushed her to take it all back. Thinking about what would never be made her sad, yet she looked at Riley and it was like all of the pain never existed. She could so easily forget when Riley was around. She should be terrified of what it all meant, but she wondered what was so wrong with feeling so happy.

She tosses restlessly in her bed, broken images flashing before her eyes. Soft skin, blue eyes, dark hair and laughter. Deep and rich, warm and intoxicating. A tender kiss to her neck and a tongue caressing the hollow between neck and shoulder, sending a welcomed shiver through her. Strong sure hands lift her legs to wrap around a shapely waist and a brush of firm breasts against her own shock her, disturbing the delicate balance between dreams and reality. Her knowing mind refuses to break the tenuous connection forcing herself back into semi-consciousness where fingers tease her aching nipples. Even in her sleep she can feel the ache building, demanding attention, a slow building heat burning her from the inside out. She looks down at dark hair and a familiar face as she’s entered, the heat inside intensifying until the need for more is excruciating and leaves her begging.

“Riley…please.”

Warm breath on her ear answers her, “Come for me.”

Sam jerks awake, the pulsing in her body shockingly real, making her shake and gasp for breath. She flops back on the bed exhilarated yet drained. She closes her eyes, the images quickly coming back, reawakening her desire.

She rolls over, pulling a pillow to her and burying her face in it, “Dear God.”