Free Identity by Nat Burns Page A

from head to toe, Shay pulled away and studied Liza as if the other woman had threatened her life. Shay knew she should run as far and as fast as possible. She knew this but…she so very wanted to stay. Even though Liza’s closeness made her feel as though her whole world was spinning, there was still this element of safety with her. Shay felt protected, more so than ever before, especially since Pepper had entered her life. Her decision was made in a split second. She couldn’t run forever. She turned away and pulled a small round tablecloth from the nose.
    “I’m fine, Liza. You just caught me off guard. I’m glad you like the lunch.” She hugged the tablecloth close. “Where shall we eat?”
    Liza seemed pleased by Shay’s ridiculous reaction. “Come with me,” she said lightly, taking the laden basket from her.
    Shay followed Liza and, when Liza held the door open for her, hesitated only briefly before climbing into the passenger seat of Liza’s white Tacoma pickup. She caressed the soft gray cloth of the bench seat as Liza paused to stow the basket in the truck bed.
    “Wow, what a truck,” she commented as Liza slid into the driver’s side.
    “Well,” drawled Liza pointedly, “it’s not a lemon yellow Volkswagen, but it’ll have to do.”
    Shay smiled, glad she had decided to deal with the extreme feeling the taller woman engendered in her. She resolved to forget about the feelings for now and examine them later when she was alone and safe from Liza’s knowing gaze.
    “Where are we going?” she asked, experiencing a sudden clenching of fear as they pulled onto Professional Drive.
    “Just around the bend. There’s this gorgeous tree there. It’s made for picnics. Tell me if you agree.”
    Within moments, Shay saw exactly what Liza meant. “Omigosh! That is one awesome tree.”
    Liza chuckled. “We have to hike in a little ways, okay?”
    “Sure.” Shay stepped out of the truck and stared at the beautiful mushroom cloud of oak tree. It had to be at least three hundred years old. The trunk was thicker than Shay and Liza’s bodies put together. Poison oak had lost a battle with the tree and a dead vine as thick as Shay’s thigh wrapped sinuously around its pockmarked trunk.
    Liza held a barbed wire fence down so Shay could cross, all the while juggling the basket. Shay stepped over and laid the tablecloth across the barbs, then held the fence so Liza could cross.
    Liza smiled at Shay as she retrieved the tablecloth and Shay felt the same melting feeling as before. They turned as one and walked side by side toward the tree.
    “Acorns are down,” said Liza as a flock of wild green parrots exploded from the branches and flashed away in a blur of lime green color. She shielded her eyes and watched the parrots circle.
    “They’ll be back,” she said, “and will give us hell for disturbing them, I bet.”
    Shay was eyeing the tree mistrustfully and Liza laughed at her.
    “We’ll sit a little way out,” she said, setting the basket aside and taking the tablecloth. After kicking acorns aside until she had a smooth plane of grass, she spread the cloth and placed the basket in the center. She patted the cloth and took a seat next to the basket.
    “Come on! I’m starving.”
    Shay smiled, amused at Liza’s easy manner, her simple joy in life. She knelt and removed the wine and two plastic cups.
    “Sorry this isn’t colder,” she said apologetically as she poured.
    Liza took the wine offered and sipped slowly. And sipped again.
    “Holy cow,” she said. “What is this?” She took the bottle from Shay and held it up to the light. Afternoon sunlight warmed itself in the golden depths of the bottle.
    Shay laughed and shared her first experience trying the wine at a vineyard in Charlottesville, Virginia. “It was love at first taste. I buy it by the case now, even though I’m not a big drinker, and every year has been just as good as that first one.”
    “It’s amazing. I need the name