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Lisa didn’t let Lily reciprocate, using the excuse that they didn’t have the time.
“What do you have in mind?” Lisa asked.
Lily reached down and stroked Lisa between the legs. “Here,” she whispered.
“Like this?” Lisa asked, pulling her shorts up tight in the crotch, leaving little to the imagination.
Lily moaned, a body rush making her shake so hard she laughed.
“No, under your clothes.”
“Okay, but just to touch. I need to get home.”
Pulling the waistband of her shorts out, Lisa gave her access.
“Oh, Lisa,” Lily moaned, shivering as she stroked her. “I wish we were lying in bed.”
They hugged and kissed, and once again, it reminded Lisa of being a wayward teenager, trying to hide from her parents. She didn’t allow the fondling to go any farther.
“Next time we can get right up on the picnic table,” Lisa promised, gently pushing her away.
They held hands walking home and, when they got to the beach access road, parted ways.
Lisa ran down the beach to her cottage, and as she hiked up the dune, trying to duck down to stay out of sight, she noticed lights were on at Sandra’s house.
***
Andy had insomnia again that night and was sitting in the living room around midnight with his laptop, going over the transcript from a recent grand jury.
“Are you okay?”
He looked up to see Sandra standing at the edge of the couch.
“Oh, I’m fine. The usual, can’t sleep.”
“Me either. I’m going to make Sleepytime tea. Can I make you a cup?”
He placed his computer on the coffee table and stood, stretching. “I’d love a cup.”
Following her into the kitchen, movement on the sand caught his eye.
“Someone’s out there this late. It looks like they’re climbing the dune to your sister-in-law’s house.”
“Lisa’s? That’s weird. Their house is usually dark by nine.”
“Ha! I wish,” Andy said, turning from the window.
“You know she’s not really my sister-in-law.”
“I know. It’s okay. It’s a good way to differentiate.”
“Brent’s father and I didn’t date, either. We weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend.”
Pouring water over the tea bags, she looked at Andy. Tonight was evidently going to be the tell-all night since she opened her trap. Time would tell if she’d regret it.
“Okay,” he said, taking a cup from her. He wasn’t divulging that he already knew Brent had been born nine months after his father’s death. “I know Brent was murdered.”
Nodding her head, she sat on the couch next to him.
