Chapter 31

The party was being held at one of Valentine's friend's houses, she explained as they drove. When they arrived, there were already a dozen or so cars parked up the driveway and down the street. Valentine had to park a little way away from the house, and as they walked together to the source of the music and lights, Dusty felt awkward and nervous. There was a time when Valentine'd have held her hand as they walked, but now she kept her pace just quicker than hers so that they weren't side by side.

Puzzled, Dusty followed behind her, starting to regret her decision to come to the party. On the drive over she'd been quiet, making genial small talk. A part of Dusty feared that she'd changed her mind, that she didn't want her with her at the party anymore but had been too polite to back out of her plans.

Inside the house, the party atmosphere was in full swing. People in their mid to late twenties were drinking, hanging around and listening to music throughout the house. Valentine politely took Dusty's jacket and then introduced her to the host, who only glanced briefly in her direction, seemingly uninterested in Valentine's date for the evening.

"Shall I get you a drink?" Valentine asked, raising her voice over the music as she led her through the house, placing her hand on the small of her back. "Sure," Dusty called back. The music was loud, bouncing off the walls and making conversation difficult. It felt more like a fraternity house party than a young professionals' New Year's Eve celebration.

Valentine went to the kitchen and came back with a glass of wine for Dusty and a bottle of beer for herself. She'd already told Dusty that she might get a cab back yet, depending on how much she drank. Drinks in hand, she led Dusty away from the madness of the party as much as she could, finding a secluded spot at the top of the staircase. She sat down, the party pulsating beneath them, and Dusty sat down next to her. "Bet this reminds you of college, huh?" she asked, her face close to hers. "Yeah," Dusty agreed, "it does."

****

Three drinks later and Dusty was beginning to relax, and Valentine was finally more talkative. "I still enjoy teaching," she told her. "I'm just not sure what more I can do here, in West."

"It's a pretty small town," Dusty empathized, knowing how limited her own career prospects would have been had she stayed.

"Do you like working in the city?" Valentine asked her, drawing close. "I can imagine you there, strutting round like you're off that show, where they talk about sex." Dusty blushed at the word sex, and Valentine smiled awkwardly, realizing her discomfort.

"Actually, it's not as glamorous as you think," Dusty admitted softly. "I live in a tiny apartment, and I barely go out because I don't have any friends there. I'm actually kind of lonely." She surprised herself with her frank admission and gazed into Valentine's eyes. Valentine was looking back at her adoringly. She'd missed the way she looked at her.

"So there's no girl keeping you warm at night?" she asked the question casually, but Dusty saw her jaw tense after she'd said it as she took a swig of beer from the bottle she was holding.

"There's no girl," Dusty clarified, her eyes sparkling slightly. Valentine was right beside her, their legs were touching as they sat atop the staircase. She could smell her, feel her, and it made her realize how much she was still attracted to her. Even after all this time, she still felt something for Valentine, of that she was certain.

Now, emboldened by the wine coursing through her veins, Dusty dared to be flirtatious with her, to see if she could take her old feelings and turn them into something current, and real. She wasn't thinking about the future, about what would happen when she returned to New York, she was thinking only of the moment, of the final night of the year. "It's nearly midnight!" someone downstairs declared excitedly as around them people cheered in drunken glee. Valentine checked her watch and nodded.

"So it is." She looked at Dusty as though waiting on her instruction for what they should do next.

"Do you want to go downstairs and count down with everyone?" Dusty asked as below, the hallway cleared as everyone piled into the living room to watch the ball drop in Times Square on the television. "I'm happy here," Valentine told her, her eyes flickering with longing. Dusty felt her heart began to beat manically within her chest, her pulse quickening.

"Are you sure you don't want to be with your friends?" she asked again, drawing closer to Valentine. She could smell the beer on her breath, the sweet perfume upon her neck.

"It's okay," she confirmed again.

"Are you making any resolutions?" Dusty asked, her face almost touching hers.

"Not to let good things go," Valentine told her, her voice soft and seductive. Downstairs, the final seconds of the year were being counted away. "Ten, nine, eight, seven, six," they chanted eagerly, euphoric in their merriment thanks to the drink and the music. "Five, four, three, two, one!"

As the New Year was rung in, the house erupted with cheers and whoops, and at the top of the staircase, Valentine leant forward and pressed her lips against Dusty's. The moment their lips connected, Dusty's body fired up like an old toy getting its battery back. She parted her lips to allow Valentine tongue to enter her mouth and ran her hand up into her hair.

Valentine pulled her close, the kiss becoming deep and passionate. The world around them fell away. There was no party, no fresh new year. There was only the two of them, lost to their passion and the kiss. The kiss was hungry yet sweet, filled with a longing, dormant desire. When at last they pulled apart, they were both breathless. Dusty looked shyly at her feet, unsure of what to say. "I missed you," Valentine said softly, still close, holding Dusty cheek in her hand. "I missed you too," Dusty confirmed, looking into her eyes.

She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. For so long she felt as though she was searching for something, and all along it had been where she had left it, back in West. Kissing Valentine made her feel whole again, as if she'd been incomplete ever since that day she'd pulled away from her at the train station. Dusty smiled at her, but then her eyes were pulled away as she felt someone staring at her from the bottom of the staircase.

She looked down and saw a woman looking to be in her early thirties, with dark blonde hair and a plain face, staring up at them with pain in her blue eyes. Uncomfortable beneath the stare, Dusty turned to look at Valentine, who had also noticed the observer sending them visual daggers up the staircase. When she saw the woman, Valentine sighed wearily, and Dusty felt her body stiffen beside her.

"Goddamnit." She sighed. "She wasn't supposed to be here."

"Who?" Dusty looked down in bewilderment at the woman who was now moving away, her face still pinched with angry grief.

"My ex, Sophie." The words stabbed at Dusty like a knife. Of course Valentine had an ex. She did too. She couldn't have expected her to have just sat and pined for her over the last four years. Still, a part of her had thought that. She imagined Valentine missing her, wishing her return, remaining alone and keeping their love pure. But instead there was an ex-girlfriend, a very real ex-girlfriend who had been watching their passionate reunion.

"I should go." Dusty got up, eager to leave. She'd never had to deal with a jealous ex before and was in no mood to deal with one now.

"I'll take you home," Valentine insisted.

"I'm fine." Dusty shrugged her off, but Valentine held her hand tightly, refusing to let go.

"She meant nothing to me," she implored, her eyes wide, begging forgiveness. And Dusty wanted to believe her, truly she did.

****

Dusty awoke with the taste of Valentine's kiss still on her lips. She rolled onto her side in the small bunk of the trailer and smiled. But her jubilance was short lived. It was a new year and a new day, and in a few hours she would be boarding a train and returning to New York.

Whatever was beginning anew with Valentine might be forced to end prematurely due to geographical complications. But Dusty didn't want to dwell on what happened the night before. She no longer wanted to be that girl who fretted over girls. Instead, she got up and headed into the small kitchen area of the trailer. Both her mother and Dust were still sleeping, so she set about making pancakes for them as a nice surprise.

"Well, isn't this lovely," Kayla exclaimed as she came and sat at the table as Dusty handed her a plate of freshly made pancakes.

"I thought I'd do something nice since this is my last morning at home." Dusty smiled sweetly. She didn't notice how Kayla's eyes watered upon hearing her daughter refer to the trailer as home. The trailer that she had once so fervently loathed. The trials and tribulations of the past number of years had taught Kayla Black that a home was much more than bricks and mortar.

It was the people in it who made it. But that didn't stop her missing her beautiful old house and her perfect old life. Sometimes she caught herself sitting in the trailer and wishing things were different, wondering how her life could have brought her to this point: widowed and existing below the poverty line. It was a far cry from the life she'd dreamed of, the life she'd been living.

"Honey, you baked," Dust declared jokingly as he stumbled into the kitchen, still slightly intoxicated from his own party antics the night before. He'd rung in the New Year with old school friends. Unlike Dusty, he'd managed to hold on to his friends from West. When he lost his money, they didn't shun him and exile him from their plush homes, instead they brought him tighter into the fold and welcomed him with open arms.

Dusty had always envied his connection to his past. She'd been forced to hide her true self for many years while he was always accepted. "Good night?" Dusty asked her brother, raising an eyebrow as she noticed his bloodshot eyes and heard his hoarse voice.

"It was okay," Dust cackled to himself.

"Are you going back today too?" Kayla asked her son as she bit into a piece of pancake.

"God, no." Dust shook his head and then coughed dramatically. "I couldn't handle being on a train for hours in my state. I'll go back tomorrow."

"And you thought you were getting rid of us," Dusty joked.

"Stop it. I've loved having my children here." Kayla smiled at them both. "It's been one of the best Christmases I can remember." And her children smiled back at her. It was a sentiment they all shared.