Lily laughed. “About half the time, I feel like kind of a misfit critter myself.”
Jack grinned. “I know what you mean. Well ... ’night.”
“Good night.”
Lily undressed, crawled under the quilt, and, for the first time in a long time, fell right asleep.
She awoke to a gentle knocking on the bedroom door. Despite the fact that she wasn’t sure where she was, she called, “Come in.”
Jack entered carrying a tray. Lily couldn’t see what was on it, but she smelled the coffee, and the aroma of caffeine, was enough to make her sit up. “Good morning,” she said.
“It sure is,” Jack replied. “Nobody called, so I got to sleep in.”
Lily glanced at the Timex on the nightstand and saw it was eight-fifteen. Since when was sleeping till eight o’clock “sleeping in”?
“I hope you don’t mind me bringing you breakfast.” Jack set the tray down before Lily.
Lily surveyed the spread: hot coffee, toast with butter and honey, and a blue bowl filled with sliced Georgia peaches. “It’s lovely, Jack. Thank you.”
Jack shrugged. “I’m not much of a cook, but toast and coffee I can handle.”
“Care to join me?”
“I ate about an hour ago. I’ll keep you company, though.”
Jack sat on the edge of the bed while Lily ate her peaches and toast and honey. The peach slices were sweet and juicy and sunny-tasting, and Lily felt almost uncomfortable eating them in bed in such close proximity to Jack. Eating peaches in bed near another woman was the closest thing Lily had had to a sensual experience in quite some time.
“Hank was still in bed with you when I got up this morning,” Jack said.
“Yeah, he was good company — a much less obtrusive bedmate than Mordecai.” Lily sipped the coffee, which was strong but good. “I had a cat that died about three years ago. She was fourteen years old. I loved her so much I’ve never been able to get another cat. I just don’t think I could stand that kind of loss again.”
“Hmm.” Jack reached into the bowl and popped a slice of peach into her mouth. “When I have to put sick animals down — which is the hardest part of my job, believe me — I always tell the owner to go out and find another pet. They won’t be able to love the new pet the same way they loved the old one, but maybe they can find a new way to love.”
Lily looked into Jack’s clear blue eyes and wondered if it was really pets they were talking about.
“So,” she said, opting to change the subject as soon as possible, “do I get a tour of the farm before I go?”
“Sure.” Jack’s tone lightened. “I tell you what. Let me take your tray. You get yourself cleaned up, and just knock on the door of my room when you’re ready. There’s clean towels in the bathroom and a new toothbrush.”
After Lily made herself presentable, she entered Jack’s room to find her working on a computer, which looked incongruous with the rustic farmhouse surroundings: IBM meets American Gothic. “Hey,” Jack said, looking up at Lily. “Even horse doctors keep their records on computer, these days. Speaking of horses, I’ve gotta vaccinate a couple mares on Wednesday. You wanna come?”
“Sure. I’ve not gotten to sketch any horses yet.”
Jack turned off the computer and stood. “Okay, well, let’s start the tour. This is my room.”
Lily looked at the overflowing bookshelves that lined the walls. “Quite a book collection you’ve got here.”
“One of my city girlfriends used to tease me ’cause I talk like a hick. She said as many books as I read, I oughta know better.”
“I like your accent.”
Jack looked down. Was she blushing? “I think the way you talk oughta tell people somethin’ about you. I don’t like the idea that everybody oughta sound like they’re reading the nightly news.”
“Me neither.” Lily scanned the volumes in the nearest bookcase—they were all veterinary medicine books, with polysyllabic titles. “Not exactly light reading here.”
“Nope, that bookcase is just professional stuff—boring to everybody but me.” She glanced at the case across the room. “What you want’s probably over there.”
Lily’s jaw dropped when she saw the other book-case— six wide shelves stuffed with lesbian fiction. The books were paperbacks mostly: classics like We Too Are Drifting, Beebo Brinker, Desert of the Heart, and Curious Wine. But there were also several recent titles Lily hadn’t read. “It’s amazing to see so many books like this in a place ... like this.”
“Yeah. Versailles doesn’t even have a bookstore, let alone a place where you can buy lesbian books. Let’s just say I’m on a first-name basis with all the gals who take mail-order calls for Naiad Press.
I call this bookcase the Faulkner County Lesbian Lending Library. If you wanna borrow somethin’, go ahead. I don’t even charge overdue fines.”
“Thanks.” Lily pulled a couple of mysteries off the shelves. “Charlotte used to tease me about how many mysteries I read. She said the difference between her and me was that she read books to put them in a theoretical context, whereas I read books to find out whodunit.”
Jack smiled. “I’m sure she wouldn’t have thought much of my reading habits either.”
Lily winced at the appropriate but still painful use of the past tense in reference to Charlotte. Jack must have noticed it, because she quickly blurted, “So, ready to see the farm?”