Our Secret Summer

Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

Another week had gone by. When Raffo first arrived in Big Bear, she had expected this to be one of the most painful times of her life, pining after Mia and stutteringly trying to paint again. Instead, it turned out to be, without a doubt, one of the best, most magnificent weeks of her entire life.

The weather was sunny. Her mojo was flowing. And Dylan was just as kind and caring and hot as she’d been from the start, but they also slept together every night. After Raffo packed up her paintbrushes for the day, they sometimes danced on the deck together, the music turned up loud, their bodies always moving toward each other. And yesterday, when Raffo had joined Dylan for her afternoon ‘nap’, they’d listened to Ida Burton’s naughty story together—Ida had not disappointed.

Thoughts of Mia had faded as Dylan filled every corner of her world. In the kitchen. At the table across from Raffo. On the deck. In her head. And all over Raffo’s body. It was like a dream, and sometimes, when she woke in the middle of the night to find Dylan sleeping beside her, Raffo had to pinch herself. Because this was real. Though it was just a secret affair strictly relegated to their summer in Big Bear, a veritable summer fling, every single second of it was still real.

Raffo walked onto the deck where Dylan was lounging, her head angled toward the setting sun.

Without asking, Raffo refilled Dylan’s wine glass from the bottle in the ice bucket next to her. Settling into the adjacent chair, Raffo couldn’t help but smile. Even when she tried to turn down the corners of her mouth, they didn’t obey. The joy was beyond her control.

Dylan stretched out her hand, as she always did, and Raffo took it in hers. She swiped her thumb over the softest part of Dylan’s palm.

“How was painting?” Dylan asked, as she slowly turned her head to look at Raffo.

“Excellent.” Raffo couldn’t shake the niggling feeling that the triumphant return of her mojo might be too connected to this place—and to Dylan. But she wouldn’t know until she returned home. And she didn’t want to think about that yet. Dylan’s trip to Europe was supposed to last two months. She could stay in Big Bear without raising suspicion for another month. So could Raffo, although she imagined Connor would want to hear some news from her soon. “I kind of miss working on my previous painting, though,” she joked.

“You don’t have to paint my breasts to see them.” Dylan smiled at Raffo. “They’re all yours whenever you want.”

“What are you going to do with it?” Raffo asked. Dylan had put the painting in her bedroom, right across from the bed—it proved a powerful aphrodisiac.

“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.” Dylan squeezed Raffo’s hand. “I want to take it home so I can enjoy it, but I can’t risk Connor seeing it.”

“Yeah.” Raffo just nodded. There were things she simply didn’t have a reply to, like any mention of Connor in the context of their affair, which would have to find a way to magically not have happened in a few weeks’ time.

“I seem to be feeling my age today. I’m exhausted,” Dylan said.

“I’ll cook for you tonight,” Raffo said without hesitation. “I should really respect my elders and their limited energy more.” After all, Dylan was almost twice Raffo’s age.

“But you hate cooking.”

“Not when I cook for you. Don’t worry. I have a few dishes up my sleeve and I promise not to poison you.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank me later.” Raffo lifted their joined hands and kissed the inside of Dylan’s wrist.

Dylan only groaned in response.

It was a pity she hated it so much because Raffo wasn’t that bad a cook. When she made biryani for Dylan, it didn’t feel like a punishment, although it wasn’t exactly enjoyable either.

Raffo took her time and thought about her mother while she prepared the meal. She could hear her mother’s voice when she added the spices—“more isn’t always better, Raffi”—and maybe that was just another magical thing about Big Bear but by the end of it, Raffo was able to serve Dylan a decent plate of food.

“You keep on surprising me,” Dylan said. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Too many things to mention,” Raffo replied. “I pretended Mom was helping me, guiding me through the dish. I think that’s why it tastes okay.”

“Do you get it from her? Your art?” Dylan popped another bite into her mouth and sent Raffo a gentle smile.

“Partly. My father can—or could, at least—draw really well. But my mom, she was the queen of color. She wasn’t a painter, but you should have seen how she looked. How she dressed. So bold. So gorgeous. She taught me to be unafraid of color. To embrace it. It wasn’t just in how she dressed or decorated our house. Every single meal she made was a feast of taste and color.” It was entirely possible that Raffo remembered her mother as a touch too perfect, but that’s what happens when the better of two parents dies way too young.

“Do you have a picture of her?” Dylan asked.

“Of course.” Raffo looked around for her phone and realized, not for the first time, that she’d simply forgotten to keep it on her. She had no idea when she’d used it last. That was also what being in Big Bear did to her. She was more off the grid than she’d ever been, which was quite the achievement for a Millennial. Dylan probably had something to do with it as well. “Let me just find my phone. I’ll be right back.”

Raffo located her phone in the kitchen. It had been on silent and her heart leapt in her throat when she noticed she had three missed calls from Connor.

“Connor tried to call me.” Raffo rushed onto the deck in a panic.

“Did he leave a message?” Dylan’s posture went rigid in her chair—her shoulders square and her lips a tight line.

“He sent a text.” In her panic, Raffo hadn’t read the text yet. “Fuck, I hope he’s not on his way here or something like that.” Heart hammering in her chest, Raffo opened the message.

Call me asap. I have huge news. xo

Raffo showed it to Dylan. They both took a deep breath. It was all well and good to claim Connor had nothing to do with what was happening between them, until he called, and reminded them of his importance in both their lives.

“Do you want to call him?” Dylan asked.

“I should.” Raffo was curious what the huge news could be. She reached for her wine glass and downed a big gulp. She paced on the deck as she made the call.

“Oh my god, Raff. Are you sitting down?” Connor didn’t bother with any niceties.

“No, but tell me.” Raffo kept her back to Dylan so it was easier to pretend she wasn’t there.

“You know Over The Rainbow, the queer merch company?”

“Yeah.” It was hard to escape when you were queer. Their products were everywhere these days.

“They want to license your rainbow heart painting.” One of Raffo’s most famous—Connor liked to call it iconic—works was of a heart painted in the colors of the rainbow. It was simple—it had only taken a few days to create—but extremely effective.

“What does that mean?” Raffo asked.

“It means you’re going to be one rich lesbian painter. They want to put it on everything. Mugs. Pillows. Whatever you can think of. They’re not kidding around. They’re offering a substantial advance and a generous percentage on sales.”

Raffo didn’t know what to say. She’d never had an offer like this. She didn’t even know Connor was pursuing deals like this.

“When I say substantial, I mean half a million bucks, Raff. This is the big league. They are truly not fucking around. They want your work and they’re willing to pay the price.” Connor left a dramatic pause. “A price I expertly negotiated, I might add.”

“You’ve been talking to them for a while?”

“Yes, but I didn’t want to disturb your peace in Big Bear until I had an offer you couldn’t refuse. That’s why I’m your amazing gallerist-slash-agent-slash-best-friend-in-the-whole-wide-fucking-world.”

“Half a million? Are you sure?” Raffo’s hand was trembling, making her phone shake against her ear.

“I have it in writing. I’ll email it over as soon as we end this call so you can have a look at it. My lawyer is scrutinizing the offer as we speak.”

“My god, Con. What the hell is happening? First, a show in Chicago, and now this?”

“It’s your time, Raffo. It’s all coming together.” Connor sounded a little out of breath. He must be beside himself. “Can we set up a call for tomorrow to discuss this further?”

“Um, yeah. Sure.”

“Let’s try FaceTime. I miss you. LA isn’t the same without you,” Connor said. “Aren’t you lonely all by yourself by that big lake?”

Oh, boy. “I’m good. I’ve been working a lot, actually.”

“Can’t wait to see the results,” Connor said.

“Thanks, Con. For everything. You’re awesome.”

“Do you have any idea when you might be coming back? Or if a quick return trip is an option? I might need your signature soon.”

“Let’s talk tomorrow.” It was dreadful to have Connor call her with such amazing news and then having to lie to him.

“Sure. Check your email in one minute, okay? Love you, babe.”

They rang off, and Raffo took a beat before turning around to face Dylan. The previous time Connor had called, Raffo hadn’t yet been sleeping with his mother. She just had to hide that Dylan was in Big Bear. What she had to conceal now was a million times more excruciating. But Raffo didn’t have time to consider her secret affair, because she’d just gotten the offer of a lifetime.

She explained to Dylan what Connor had just told her.

“Half a million?” Dylan whistled through her teeth. “That’s a lot of money.”

“Plus a percentage of sales,” Raffo repeated. Connor was right. If this deal went through, she would be a rich lesbian painter.

“Are you okay?” Dylan asked. “You look a little… taken aback.”

“I’m both stunned and elated, but, I—I hate that I wasn’t able to fully share my joy with Connor about this. He made this happen for me. He has done so much for me and my career and this is how I repay him? By deceiving him?”

“You’re not deceiving him,” Dylan said.

“It sure feels like it.”

Dylan rose from her chair and crossed to Raffo with that fluid grace she always moved with. “I know you want to celebrate with Connor, but you can celebrate with me instead.” She curled her arms around Raffo’s waist, her touch both comforting and dangerous. “I’m so happy for you. Please, try to enjoy this special moment. You deserve it so much.”

“He wants to FaceTime tomorrow.” Raffo didn’t get how Dylan could be so casual about this.

“We’ll make it work. Don’t worry about it.”

“I am worried. I’m the one who has to talk to him so I’m the one lying to him. I’m the one pretending you’re not here and… well, all the rest.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” Dylan nuzzled Raffo’s neck. She wasn’t taking this seriously at all. Raffo extricated herself from Dylan’s embrace—it no longer felt right.

“This is going to hurt Con. We can choose to ignore that all we want, but that doesn’t make it less true.”

“I’m well aware, but I’ve had to flip a switch in my head. For as long as we’re here enjoying this glorious but all-too-brief time we have together, that’s what I’ve decided to do.” She sent Raffo one of her more seductive smiles. “Weren’t you going to show me a picture of your mom?” She took a step closer, but left a respectable distance. “And while you’re at it, show me that half-a-million-bucks painting as well, please.”