Even then, the topic of Pam's painting had hung unspoken in the air between them, just as it did now with Mel. But then Pam had been prolific, successful. And as her portrait business had grown, so had Diane's jealousy of her talent. Diane would have preferred the new Pam. The Pam who couldn't pick up a paintbrush and complete a few strokes without shaking so badly she needed to stop.

Pam realized Mel had stopped talking and was looking at her.

"What?"

"Nothing," Mel said with a shrug. "I was just talking about plastering the chips in the downstairs molding. Boring. Don't you like that?"

Mel pointed at the oatmeal Pam had been eating, and Pam wanted to a.s.sure her that the conversation hadn't been boring at all. She had just been too far away to hear it. She took another bite of the oatmeal, with its apple bits and cinnamon and a healthy dose of cream poured over the top. The oats were cooked well enough to please Goldilocks, smooth and tender, with enough bite to keep them from turning to mush. But each time Pam lifted her spoon, it was the smell that transported her to her grandmother's kitchen when she was baking oatmeal-raisin cookies. To Tia's annual Christmas party-one of the few social events Pam antic.i.p.ated with something other than dread-when Tia served her lethal spiced wine. Yes, Mel would serve her guests more than simple meals. More than just food. "It's delicious."

"Good. Now try one of these blueberry scones."

Pam took a taste and coughed. "Um, did the recipe actually call for plaster, or did you accidentally mix up your two projects?" She ducked, laughing, to avoid the chunk of scone Mel threw at her head.

Chapter Nine.

Three mornings later, Pam opened her bedroom door at the insistent knocking to find Mel standing in front of her, wearing only a thick terry cloth robe, her hair wet and uncombed.

"Are you serving breakfast in bed this morning?" Pam asked, trying to cover up her discomfort with a joke. The contrast between the rough-textured robe and Mel's soft-looking skin was mesmerizing.

The decidedly uns.e.xy robe only highlighted Mel's s.e.xiness, but Pam was already quite aware of her attraction to Mel. She didn't need the emphasis. Living in the same house with Mel was already too intimate when all they did was sit at a breakfast table together. Having her walk around upstairs half-naked every morning would be unbearable.

"What? Oh, no. There's quiche downstairs. I just wanted to find out if your shower was hot this morning," Mel said. She seemed completely unaware of the suggestive nature of everything she was doing and saying. Her naivete only made her hotter. Pam managed to stop staring at the swell of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, just visible where the front of the robe gaped open slightly. The scent Pam had come to a.s.sociate with Mel, the merest hint of rose petals, was magnified and intensified by her recent shower. Pam breathed her in.

"Yes. Plenty hot," she said. She leaned against the door frame and crossed her arms. The collar of Mel's robe was turned over on one side, as if she had hastily thrown on the first thing in sight to cover her naked body. Her naked body, flushed and warm from her shower. Pam crossed her arms more tightly. She wouldn't reach out and straighten Mel's collar, wouldn't slide her hand under the robe and...Mel needed to leave. Or Pam needed to shut her door. "And you might be taking the concept of catering to your guest's every need a little too far."

"Wonderful," Mel said with a broad smile. "I was taking a shower at the same time. And doing a load of laundry."

Pam tried to pull her focus off Mel's body and onto her words.

Her imagination still had her hand under Mel's robe as she slowly worked on straightening that d.a.m.ned collar. "Why didn't you flush the toilet while you were at it?"

"Good idea. I'll try that tomorrow." Mel turned and headed toward the yellow bedroom.

"Wait," Pam said. "I thought you slept downstairs."

"I do, but I still have work to do down there, and the bathrooms up here are much cleaner."

Pam knew the guest rooms on this floor all had en suite bathrooms, so she and Mel had been separated by several walls at all times. But her showers wouldn't be the same, knowing Mel was sopping wet, only two doors away. Apparently trying to either scald or freeze her.

"Why were you trying to ruin my shower?"

Mel laughed. "I wasn't trying to freeze you out of the shower. I was testing the new hot-water tank I installed yesterday."

"You. Installed a hot-water tank," Pam repeated in disbelief. The woman who couldn't even hang a painting a week ago was now a plumber?

Mel shrugged, but Pam could read the pride in her smile. "The only hard part was moving the tanks."

"Next time call me and I'll help," Pam said without thinking.

h.e.l.l, she didn't know how to install a hot-water tank. But at the moment, she wanted to do something to help Mel. Anything at all, especially if it was somehow connected to hot and water and showers.

"I mean...not that I don't think you can..."

"I'll let you do the heavy lifting next time," Mel said over her shoulder as she walked away. Her a.s.s shouldn't have looked so good in the bulky robe, but it did. Mostly because Pam a.s.sumed it was bare under the robe. And as flushed pink from Mel's shower as the rest of her skin. Pam, distracted by Mel's robe-covered backside, didn't move quickly enough to grab Piper as she squeezed past her and into the hallway. The dog slipped into the yellow bedroom just before Mel shut the door. Pam considered following them, if only to retrieve her dog, but she turned away instead and closed herself in her own room.

Mel wiped condensation off the mirror and looked at her reflection with a sigh. Hair sticking in all directions. Nothing on but a robe. Her skin still flushed after taking the hottest shower she could stand. She had gone to Pam's room without thinking, too excited about the new tank that doubled the available hot water for her guests to care about her appearance. Until she'd noticed Pam's expression and realized how little of her was covered by the terry cloth. Mel plugged in her dryer and started to dry her hair. Maybe not all of her redness could be attributed to the shower.

Mel's response to having Pam in the house confused her, but she knew for certain she needed to be careful. For the first time in years she was living on her own and was free to pursue a relationship with a woman. She had to guard against imagining feelings for Pam simply because she was there. And she had to protect her newfound autonomy and independence. It was natural for her to want to share her small but satisfying adventures in home improvement, but her dependence on Pam couldn't go further than simple companionship.

She pulled on a pair of paint-splattered jeans and a navy T-shirt.

She would eventually adjust to being alone, and then the foolish desire to attach herself to Pam, to another person, would fade. She had lost part of herself because she had trusted in Richard, in their marriage.

Pam didn't even offer the pretense of permanence, and Mel would not subordinate her dreams and her feelings ever again. Maybe someday she'd have enough to offer a woman, to be an equal in a relationship, but until then, she was fine alone.

Mel opened the bedroom door and followed Piper down the stairs. She briefly pictured how easy it would have been to drop the robe, the only barrier between her and Pam. She imagined Pam in the shower with her, felt Pam's hands everywhere the hard spray hit her body. Running through her hair, over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, up her thighs. She shook off the vision. During her marriage her desires and attractions had been so long denied and resisted, they had practically disappeared.

Now they were returning in force-because of Pam's proximity-and Mel would need to change her battle tactics. A long day of scrubbing and painting walls ought to tire her enough so she'd be able to defeat her interest in Pam.

Pam had been fooling herself to think she could stay here with Mel, live alone with her. The inn wasn't big enough. If she were simply battling a physical attraction, she'd be able to handle it without any problem. She was accustomed to denying her desires when they were impractical, dangerous. But Mel was attractive in too many ways. Independent, brave, warm. Something had been turned off inside Mel, and she seemed completely unaware of how s.e.xy she was. Pam desperately wanted to be the one to turn her back on. But Mel-and her son-were planning to stick around long-term. Pam wasn't getting enmeshed in another family, so she had to fight her feelings for Mel. She couldn't come up with a good excuse to leave the inn until her house was finished, but she could manage to avoid the enforced intimacy of mealtimes. She needed to get to the gallery early, she couldn't stop and eat breakfast, sorry. Pam rehea.r.s.ed her speech as she walked down the stairs, but she forgot the words for a brief moment when she and Mel met in the kitchen doorway. Mel started to speak first.

"I have to run to the hardware store for another brush, and then I'll be painting all day so Danny and I can lay the flooring in the living room this weekend," Mel said in a rush as she sidled past Pam. "Did I tell you my son will be here this weekend? There's leftover fruit salad in the fridge and quiche on the stove. Let me know how you like it."

"Okay," Pam said, but Mel had already let herself out the front door. Apparently, Pam's excuse for leaving had been unnecessary, and she helped herself to some food and sat at the kitchen table. She should feel relieved to have the place to herself, without having to lie or skip breakfast. She took a bite of quiche. The filling was good, but Mel had overworked the dough again, so the crust was a little tough.

Piper came and sat beside her, resting her chin on Pam's knee with a forlorn look. d.a.m.n. How many breakfasts and dinners had Pam eaten alone, content with just her dog for company? And how determined had she been to avoid sharing this meal with Mel? So why the h.e.l.l couldn't she think of anything but Mel? Mel chatting about s.p.a.ckle or plaster. Pa.s.sing plates and asking for honest feedback about her cooking. Looking out the window with a soft expression before squaring her shoulders and facing whatever the inn was about to throw at her. Pam fed Piper some of her crust. "I know," she said.

"I kinda miss her, too."

Mel pulled her car onto the shoulder and rolled down her window so she could take a picture of a herd of elk grazing in a field right alongside the road. She sent the photo to Danny and merged back onto the highway. He would be coming tomorrow for his first weekend at the old house, and she felt a nervous energy creeping through her. She was overwhelmed by all the changes in her life and she desperately wanted to make Danny feel at home in her new world.

She had a car full of groceries-favorite foods, familiar brands-to make him feel comfortable with her fridge, at least.

He had handled the news of his parents' divorce with concern, but when the three of them sat down to discuss the details of visitation and holidays, they had all been surprised by how far apart their worlds had grown. The logistics had been simple to negotiate, especially since Danny was old enough to share in the discussion and not be bandied about like a small child. After his initial search for answers and rea.s.surance, he had adapted with the enviable resilience of youth.

The unacknowledged tension that had filled their home had dissipated, leaving them all sh.e.l.l-shocked but ready to move forward.

Danny had been awkwardly accepting when she'd told him she was gay, but she didn't think either of them was ready to see her in a relationship. Not yet, when there were so many changes in both their lives. Or was she using him to avoid taking any risks of her own?

He had accepted Lesley without a problem. Had wholeheartedly supported Mel's new venture. He had even tentatively started to share some details of his own dating life during their dinnertime conversations. She had been worried he would jump to the conclusion she and Pam were living together, but maybe her own attraction to her houseguest was making her imagine s.e.xual tension and energy when nothing was there. But, whatever the reason, whatever her excuse, Mel wasn't ready to push herself into the dating world, to risk disappointment and pain. To take a chance she would sublimate her own needs and desires to someone else's. To require any more adjustments from herself or Danny until the dust had settled from the major upheaval they'd already faced.

She was too fragile. Too drawn to Pam. And too unaccustomed to living under the same roof with someone she found so s.e.xy. But she'd better get used to it fast. She'd have guests at the inn. Women.

Lesbians. She couldn't make a habit of developing crushes on every one of them simply because they were there.

Mel slowed as she drove through town. She saw Pam, of course.

Her house and her new town were too small for there to be any real distance between two people. Only a silly crush. No reason to feel jealous because the woman Pam was talking to was standing so close to her. She waved and forced a smile. She'd better start avoiding the street in front of Pam's gallery, just like she'd been avoiding any part of the house where Pam might be.

Pam raised her hand and waved as Mel's Honda drove past. She had gotten used to scanning the quiet streets for the blue car whenever she was in town. She was supposed to be coming to the gallery to get away from Mel, away from her persistent attraction. Instead, she was aware of Mel's movements all day. So she knew when Mel went to buy groceries or to the hardware store. When Mel stayed home and worked.

"Are you paying for your room at the inn, or are you working off your board with your pretty new landlady?"

Pam whipped her head around. She had been staring after Mel's car and had nearly forgotten Tia was leaning against the building next to her. She had come outside for a cigarette and had been accosted before she could light up.

"Mel and I are friends, that's all," Pam said fiercely. "Don't you dare start spreading rumors about us. She's new in town and doesn't need to have everyone talking about her behind her back."

Tia laughed and grabbed the packet of cigarettes Pam had taken out. "You are not going to chase me away with these nasty things," she said, tucking them in the pocket of her voluminous silk pants. She winked at Pam in her usual flirtatious way. "You want them, you'll have to go in after them."

Pam sighed. She normally laughed off Tia's habitual flirting.

Neither of them took it seriously, but Pam really wanted to smoke.

Almost enough to break the unspoken rules of their friendship and go in after her pack.

"Now first of all," Tia said, taking a step back as if she could read Pam's intentions, "I meant helping her with renovations in exchange for your room and board. You apparently had another form of currency in mind. You're turning red."

"Because you made me mad," Pam said, longing for an out-of-reach cigarette.

"Second, I don't need to bother spreading the rumor that you're staying with her because everybody already knows. Your house was damaged, and suddenly your car's in her driveway every day and all night. The whole town has been able to piece together that particular puzzle."

"There's nothing going on. We're just-"

"And third, she's the topic of most dinner conversations anyway,"

Tia continued. "She buys the Lighthouse after it's been on the market for absolute ages, and she plans to open a gay and lesbian B and B. Write the s.e.xy local hermit into the story, and most people around here would rather talk about her than turn on the television."

"I'm not a hermit. Or s.e.xy. Just do me a favor and please don't add any of your personal speculation to the rumor mill."

"Okay. Then do me a favor and paint something for the charity art show."

Pam sagged against the wall. Every conversation with Tia came to this. "I'll donate something from the gallery, of course. But don't expect me to paint anything else. I have enough on my mind with..."

Pam stopped midsentence, but Tia had heard enough to jump on the unfinished thought. "With...what? You're painting for her, aren't you!"

d.a.m.n. Five minutes of nicotine withdrawal and Pam couldn't control her tongue. She battled with the improbable hope that she could keep Mel's commission private. She sighed. Tia would find out eventually, anyway. And Pam had never told Mel the mosaics were a secret, so she had no reason not to tell people she was supplying artwork for Mel's inn.

"Yes. She asked me to do a few sea gla.s.s paintings for her rooms. I don't know how many I'll get to, though."

Tia nodded her head. "Very shrewd of you," she said as she fished out Pam's cigarettes and returned them. "Get in good with the innkeeper before she starts drawing every lesbian in the state here for vacation. If she's successful with her inn, you'll have plenty of short-term lovers rolling through town."

Tia walked away laughing, and Pam lit a cigarette with a sense of relief. And confusion. What Tia said was true. She wondered why the thought hadn't occurred to her before.

Chapter Ten.

Sat.u.r.day morning, Pam hesitated on the bottom of the stairs.

She had heard Danny arrive the night before, the house suddenly and palpably energized by the teenaged boy's presence, but she had stayed in her room. When the sounds of Mel and Danny having dinner and touring the inn subsided, she had snuck down the stairs to let Piper out in the backyard. She had been tempted to join them, pulled by the changed timbre of Mel's voice, clear and carefree-and punctuated by laughter-in a way Pam had heard only on the rare occasions when Mel told funny stories about her attempts to fix something or other, or when she described one of her numerous visits with Walter. But Mel was with her son this weekend. Pam told herself she didn't want to intrude on their brief time together, but deep inside she knew the truth. Living in a house with a mother and son was too painful, too reminiscent of her former life. She couldn't avoid Danny all weekend, but she didn't feel ready to sit at a family table just yet.

Mel had apparently finished cleaning the bathroom downstairs after her robe-clad visit to Pam's room. Pam hadn't even seen her upstairs, clothed or not, since then. Mel left food in the kitchen for her and chatted briefly about the various dishes, but Mel had become too busy with her work on the house to have time for them to eat together.

Pam should have been happy with the arrangement since she had been trying to find a way to minimize their interactions, but instead, she perversely attempted to prolong their conversations. Until Danny came.

Piper didn't share Pam's reticence, and she trotted into the kitchen and directly to Danny.

"Hey, a dog! You didn't tell me you got a dog."

The sound of childlike delight in the tall, nearly adult boy's voice threw Pam. She had expected him to be old enough not to trigger her memories of Diane's son, the boy she had loved like a mother until their breakup. But, as she watched Danny kneel to play with an ecstatic Piper, all she could imagine was a vision of what the eleven-year-old Kevin would look like today.

"Danny, this is Piper. And her owner, Pam," Mel said. Pam noticed Mel's odd inversion as she introduced the pet first and the owner second. Either she considered Piper the star of the show, or she was trying to downplay Pam's presence in her house. Maybe a little of both.

"Pam is staying here while her house is fixed," Mel continued.

"It was damaged in the storm. She's the artist who painted the mosaics in the rooms, although you've only seen one since she's sleeping in the room with the other..."

Mel's voice faltered to a stop. Danny reached one hand for Pam to shake while he kept scratching Piper with the other. Pam hesitated a moment, still confused by her jumbled thoughts of Kevin and Danny, the past and the present.

"Hi," she said, finally stepping toward him. Danny's handshake was firm. Mel must be so proud as she watched the boy growing into a man. How proud Pam would have been to watch Kevin go through this awkward transition from childhood to adulthood. How painful to be reminded of what she had lost-not just her past with Kevin, but also the future they had been denied.

"Nice to meet you," he said. "You told me about her last night, Mom, so I kind of figured out who she was when she walked in the kitchen. But you didn't say she had a dog."

"Didn't I? I thought I did." Mel turned back to the counter. She looked and sounded a little fl.u.s.tered. Was she embarra.s.sed to have another woman in the house? Worried about what conclusions Danny might reach about their relationship? She had no reason to be, since the only indiscretions had taken place in Pam's mind. Of course, Mel had shown up at her bedroom door wearing nothing but a robe, but that didn't count since Mel had seemed to have no clue how s.e.xy she had looked.

"Will you join us for breakfast?" Mel asked Pam without looking at her. "I made pumpkin m.u.f.fins."