Our Secret Summer

Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

And so the evening—and Dylan’s clandestine stay in Big Bear—had taken another turn. Dylan couldn’t help but feel compassion for thirteen-year-old Raffo. That’s why she’d wanted to give her a hug. It was already excruciating to lose your mother to cancer at that age, but then to also have to deal with a father like that. To not have a parent capable of comforting her—of parenting her. It was infuriating. But it was also a miracle that Raffo sat opposite her—that this was who that girl had become. This beautiful, successful woman who, though heartbroken, seemed so at peace. Like a testament to the astounding resilience of humans—well, some humans.

“Every time I sell a painting, ten percent goes to the Rainbow Shelter.” Raffo had started on her salad again, eating it with the same gusto as her eggs this morning. “But don’t worry, I won’t ask you to donate ten percent of what I think the painting of you will be worth.” She chuckled and it was such a joy to hear the sound of Raffo’s understated laughter again, after what she’d just confided in Dylan.

“I would if I could.” Dylan’s financial woes paled in comparison to Raffo’s childhood trauma. “Back when I was still gainfully employed, I donated to a few queer charities. And I made sure whichever agency I was with took on campaigns for queer organizations, often free of charge.”

“I’m sorry if I forgot,” Raffo said, “but I’m not sure I know what it is you do.”

“I’m in advertising.” Dylan drank from her water. Maybe she should have talked about her job earlier, instead of professing her bisexuality. “I quit my job a few months ago to go on a sabbatical. For my ‘Eat-Pray-Love journey’ to Europe that never happened. After that, for my last professional hurrah, and with the money I made from my crypto-investment, I wanted to start a brand-new agency. A small start-up like the one that gave me my first job as a fresh-out-of-college copywriter many years ago. Work with a bunch of young people on some exciting projects, like a sort of full circle moment for my career, before retiring.”

“That sounds like it would have been an amazing plan.”

“Yeah.” Dylan glanced at her house, then at the lake. “I could still do it, but only if I sell this house.”

“A place like this would go for how much?” Raffo pursed her lips. “A million?”

“Realistically, in today’s market, around eight hundred.” Dylan’d had the property valued already. “It’s gorgeous, but not very big.”

“So you have a choice to make.”

Dylan nodded. “I could also go back to a more corporate role like the ones I’ve had the past decade. I was the CEO at a big agency for six years before I quit.”

Raffo whistled through her teeth. “That sounds like it would bring in a bit of cash.”

If it had been anyone else, and perhaps under different circumstances, Dylan would have been flummoxed, perhaps even annoyed, by this kind of directness, but after three days in Raffo’s company, she already knew this was how she was.

Dylan nodded. “I lost a lot of money, but I’m not poor. I have my house in West Hollywood as well.” Dylan cast her eyes downward. “Hiding out here is more of an ego thing, although losing all that money hurts a lot, and not just because of my ego.”

“Would it be difficult to find a new job?” Raffo asked.

“No.” Dylan had an inbox full of inquiries from headhunters. She had forty years of experience in a cutthroat business and she was damn good at her job. “But being CEO for another five years, or however long I choose to work, doesn’t appeal to me anymore. The hours. The stress. The endless meetings.” And, as she had recently had the misfortune of finding out, her wayward handling of funds—not something Dylan had ever worried about before, but couldn’t help but be conscious of now. She had to be.

“I’d love to see some of the campaigns you worked on before you became the big boss.”

“That can be arranged.” Dylan relaxed in her chair. “How about tomorrow?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Raffo stretched her arms above her head. “That hike this afternoon really took it out of me.” She rested her gaze on Dylan. “But I don’t feel like going to bed yet. Shall I build a fire?”

“Why not?” Dylan rose. “How about another glass of champagne as a night cap?”

“Why not, indeed?” Raffo’s wink caught the twilight as she made her way to the fire pit.

“I have a burning question,” Raffo said, poking at a glowing log.

“About the fire?” Dylan’s lips curved into a teasing smile.

“No,” Raffo said matter-of-factly.

“Shoot.” Dylan settled deeper into her chair.

“Who were the two women you’ve been with?”

Dylan huffed out a deep-throated chuckle. Raffo sure could come up with a killer question. Although Dylan had left the door wide open for this particular one.

“Well.” Dylan savored a sip of champagne, letting the memory surface. “The first one was in college—cliché of all clichés, I know. Her name was Alex. She was a TA, a few years older than me. Nowadays, what we did would be more than frowned upon, but I didn’t mind one bit forty years ago.” Dylan hadn’t thought about Alex in decades, that’s how far away the memory of her first time with a woman was stashed. “It ended when I graduated and moved to LA.”

“How long were you and Alex together?” Raffo appeared relaxed, her ankle on her knee, her glass of champagne on the armrest of her chair, her body angled toward Dylan.

“About five months, if I remember correctly. God, it was so long ago.”

“What was she like?” Raffo really wanted to know everything.

“So fucking hot.” Dylan chuckled. “I know how shallow that sounds, but I was twenty and very horny.”

“Can you describe her to me?” Raffo asked.

“You want me to describe my first girlfriend to you?”

“If you don’t mind. You did say she was ‘fucking hot’. I guess I’m curious what that means to you.”

“Fair enough.” Dylan could still easily picture Alex and she wondered what she would look like now—and what she was doing. “Short, dark hair. Brown eyes. Such a friendly face with a big smile. Not overly, um, feminine. She had this walk… I couldn’t look away from it if I tried. I loved seeing her dash across campus. Alex Petrovski.” Dylan made a mental note to Google her later, just out of curiosity.

“Was it hard to leave her behind?” Raffo was clearly enjoying this, judging by the smile playing on her lips. “Where did you go to college?”

“Boston.” Dylan expelled some air while trying to remember the answer to Raffo’s other question. “I guess it was hard at the time, but it’s been forty years. I’ve been married since. I’ve had a son who’s in his thirties now.” Dylan met her future husband—Connor’s father, Joe—not long after. He was a client at the first agency—the one in West Hollywood that she’d been hoping to emulate—she’d worked at.

“You gave birth to Connor and raised him.” Raffo nodded. “That would make you forget about your first female lover.” She held up her hand. “Your son is truly one of the best people I’ve ever met. I love Con to absolute pieces. And not just because of what he’s done for my career. I mean as a friend. He’s more than a friend. He’s family.”

“Aw. Thank you.” Dylan’s mother heart grew a size in her chest.

“If you could divulge some embarrassing moments from his childhood that I can drag out at his next dinner party, that would be amazing.” Raffo grinned at Dylan.

“I really miss him,” Dylan said. “We usually talk every day. I always know what’s going on with him, but right now I don’t even know if he’s in LA or in New York with Murray.”

“There’s a pretty easy solution for that.”

“Yeah.” Dylan was aware that all she had to do was pick up the phone and call her son, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it yet. “Soon.”

“He’s in New York with Murray. He will be until next Sunday.”

“Yeah.” Dylan nodded. “What do you think of Murray?”

“Murray is incredibly sweet. I like him a lot, although he just loves to talk and talk and talk. Oh my god, that guy cannot shut up. But it’s okay. It’s who he is and he has really interesting things to say. And, most importantly, he says them well.” Raffo sat up a little. “Don’t worry, I’m not telling you this behind Connor’s back. I’ve told him the exact same thing.”

This didn’t surprise Dylan in the least. “And the long-distance thing? Do you think it’s… viable long-term?”

“They’ve been doing it successfully for three years, so yes, I think it’s very viable and it’s already long-term. Not every couple wants to be together all the time.”

“Connor hasn’t mentioned moving to New York?” Dylan’s heart shrank a size now.

“Ah, that’s what you really want to know.” Raffo sent her a gentle smile. “I told him he’s not allowed to. Our interests are totally aligned here.” Raffo shook her head. “Connor is such an LA boy and he’s built his gallery in Los Angeles, which is such a huge part of his life, of who he is. Never say never, but I don’t think he’ll be moving to New York any time soon. He wouldn’t be able to deal with the winters, for starters.”

“I’m glad he has you as his friend.” Dylan meant it from the bottom of her heart. If her son had friends like Raffo, she knew for certain that he was doing all right.

“So I tell him every time I see him.” Raffo winked at Dylan, her eyes reflecting the flames of the fire. “But, um, I feel like my question is, once again, expertly being dodged.” She tilted her head and gave Dylan a quizzical look. “Your second female lover?”

“I wasn’t willfully dodging. The conversation just went off in another direction, as conversations tend to do.”

“Okay, but now we’re firmly back on topic.” Raffo drank, then peered at Dylan over the rim of her glass.

Dylan’s affair with Angie was much fresher in her memory.

“I met Angie a few months after my divorce from Joe. She was newly divorced as well and we bonded over that, at first. Then, it turned into something more.”

“Just like that?”

“Yes and no. It was complicated.” Dylan let her head fall back as the memories rushed over her. “It was certainly not straightforward. Even though I probably wasn’t ready for something new yet, I felt myself falling for her, but… it was different for her. More like friendship with benefits than amorous. That’s the word she used when she broke up with me. Amorous. I think I was more of an experiment to her, a welcome distraction after the devastation of her divorce—from a man. We had an on-and-off thing for about eight months or so, but it wasn’t to be.”

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” Raffo’s voice exuded genuine warmth.

“That’s okay. Some things are not meant to work out.” Dylan briefly closed her eyes, picturing Angie. She was much less inclined to Google her than Alex. “After that, I took a long amorous break to properly process my divorce.”

“Are you still friends with Connor’s dad?”

Dylan nodded. “Yeah, I guess you could call us friends. At least, we’ve found a way to be amicable again. It took some time but, in the end, neither one of us wanted to be at war with the other parent of our child. Connor and his dad are very close. Joe invested a lot in the gallery.” Dylan knew she was lucky. Even though the divorce had been harrowing—it had been difficult distancing herself from her twenty-five-year marriage—and the aftermath pretty brutal, it had ended fairly well. “At least once a month, the three of us go out to dinner. Sometimes the four of us, depending if Joe has a girlfriend or not. He usually doesn’t. He really embraced the bachelor lifestyle after we split up. It makes me wonder sometimes.”

“And no more women after Angie?” Raffo steered the conversation away from Joe.

“I was single for a few years, enjoying being alone again, doing whatever the fuck I wanted when I wanted. I’ve had a few relationships since, but none of them lasted very long—all of them with men.” The last one, Dylan pondered, with the man who’d made her aware of the digital coin she had too heavily—and wrongly—invested in.

“I met your ex-husband a couple of times at the gallery. He struck me as a really nice guy,” Raffo said.

“Joe’s a good guy. And a great dad.”

“Neither one of you batted an eyelid when Connor brought home his first boyfriend,” Raffo mused. “He’s told me the story many times.”

“It just made complete and utter sense to me that, one day, he would bring a boy home. Then he did. It was great. I was so happy for him.” Inadvertently, Dylan stretched out her hand to Raffo. “I’m sorry it wasn’t like that for you.”

Raffo stared at Dylan’s outstretched hand with an unreadable expression. Dylan withdrew it quickly, the gesture hanging awkwardly between them in the firelight.

Raffo inhaled sharply, then slowly let out the breath. “Thank you for sharing all of that with me.” She turned her head more toward Dylan. “Are you too tired for the story of the most ridiculous-slash-painful lesbian break-up of the year?”

“I’m absolutely wide awake for that,” Dylan said.