Keeping It Together

Chapter 1-2

Cameron Andrews looked up from the book she was reading. She folded a corner of the page to bookmark where she had stopped reading and closed the book to look around. The month of May was beginning to warm both the earth and water. The rains of the past month had brought everything into bloom and the trees were now fully leafed. The sun off the water shone brightly beyond the two sturdy oak trees at the edge of the property. The intense blue and gold colors bathed the bay in a warm glow. Or maybe it was Maggie who gave her world that glow.

She and Maggie had posed as lovers on several cases so that Maggie had an excuse to be on the periphery and carry messages and information back and forth to the agencies. In the first fifteen years, that’s all it was; a charade, an excuse; Maggie swore she was straight. She had a relationship with Douglas Weintraub, an accountant at a downtown insurance company.

Dr. Maggie Thomason was a psychiatrist who used to have a very successful private practice and who had been the control for several CIA and DEA agents. She was a beautiful, aristocratic woman who seemed to have everything managed, who never seemed at a loss for the correct thing to do, and who seemed to have answers to every question.

“Want something to eat?” Maggie asked, as she walked out onto the deck. She placed a platter of vegetables, cheese, and crackers onto the table in front of Cam. Beside it she put a bowl of onion dip. “I thought we should hold off on dinner until we get our shopping done. Perhaps I’ll take you out to eat when we’re finished.”

Cam moved to one of the chairs around the picnic table and Maggie sat down beside her. Cam reached over and pulled Maggie closer. “Thank you,” she whispered as she placed a kiss on Maggie’s lips. “Maybe I should take you out to dinner. I think you paid the last three times.”

Maggie chuckled. “Does it matter? It’s worth it as long as we don’t have to clean up afterwards and do the dishes.”

Cam laughed. “True,” she responded, thinking through Maggie’s logic. “Very, very true. You know, I think we’re getting lazy.” Cam chuckled between bites of celery.

“Speak for yourself. I exercise every morning.” Maggie drew herself up into an even more erect position as though insulted by Cam’s remark.

“I don’t think walking to the corner to get the mail can be classified as exercise.”

“I don’t walk; I jog!” How dare Cam cast aspersions on her exercise regimen? Then Maggie shrugged as she looked over at Cam’s questioning expression. Her face turned into a smile. “But you’re probably right,” she chuckled. “Being in bed with you, sweetie, gives me more exercise than I ever got before.”

“Then, want to go exercise?” Cam sat in her chair, staring at the plate of vegetables.

Maggie stopped and looked over at her. “You are insatiable. Maybe we should both exercise more.” Maggie gave her a playful shove. “But for a couple of aging broads, we’re not doing too badly.” Aging? Hardly. Maggie was in her mid-fifties: Cam just forty-nine.

Cameron looked at Maggie. How did she always look so perfect? Even though Maggie was dressed in comfortable shorts and a lightly starched, short-sleeve, cotton shirt, her hair and makeup were unblemished. Her clothes never showed a trace of a wrinkle. Even at night, in bed, without her makeup, Maggie always looked perfect.

“Where else do you have to go?” Cam asked, running her fingers through her short hair. It was dark brown as it used to be before the stress of South America turned it mostly gray. “I just need to pick up something for my sister for her birthday.”

“I want to get those earrings I saw last week and a red shirt to go with those new gray slacks. It shouldn’t take long.”

Cam grinned. “That’s good. I was hoping we’d have time to do other stuff tonight.”

“Other stuff? And what might that be?” Maggie glanced to the side as if she didn’t know Cam’s intentions.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Cam mumbled, trying to be vague. “Stuff.”

“Stuff, huh?” Maggie said looking at Cam out of the corner of her eye. “Didn’t we do stuff last night?”

“And we can’t do stuff whenever we want?” Cam asked, not looking up as she dipped a carrot stick into the dip.

When Maggie reached out and laid her hand on Cam’s arm, rubbing it lovingly, Cameron looked down at Maggie’s touch. How had she gotten this lucky? And to think she’d almost let Maggie slip away from her.