Susanne Novan - Driven

"Yes," Cat finally decided that giving up would be the best course of action. "Yes, I’m seeing her."

"How long has this been going on?"

"That is none of your business."

"Catherine, don’t you speak to me like that."

"Mother I love you dearly, but I will not be interrogated in my own house. Yes, Dylan and I are seeing each other, but how long we’ve been seeing each other is none of your business."

"Do you love her?"

Cat sat there and considered it. Do I love her? "I have very deep feelings for Dylan. We are taking this relationship slow to give us both more time."

"Why are you keeping it quiet?"

"For a number of reasons, but mainly this one. We have no desire for our private lives to be up for discussion."

"You would think you’d tell your mother and father."

"Why? So you could tell me it was just a phase and that I needed to find a nice young man? God, Mom when are you going to realize that I don’t want a young man? I’m a lesbian. I like women."

"I just can’t understand that."

"Fine Mom, you don’t have to understand it and you certainly don’t have to approve, but damn it that’s just the way it is so you may as well just pretend to deal with it."

"I can’t believe you’re talking to me like this Catherine."

"And I can’t believe you’re still trying to tell me how to live my life. I’m a grown woman, Mom. I make my own living and I make my own choices."

"She’s done this to you."

"Who has done what?"

"Dylan Lambert, she’s made you disrespectful."

"Bullshit!" Cat flew off the chair and began pacing. "Dylan has nothing to do with the fact that I’m tired of you pretending this is some phase or something I’m going to grow out of. I’ve been a lesbian since I was fourteen, Mom! It’s not going to change." She stopped pacing and faced her mother. "I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it is and I’m not going to try to do something that will make me unhappy just to please you."

"I can see that." Her mother stood up and nodded to her daughter. "Do you want your father and I to go?"

"No! Where did that come from? I love having you guys here, I just don’t need this particular issue to come up and ruin our visit."

"Maybe I should speak to Miss Lambert."

"Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare drag Dylan into this! She has nothing to do with this other than she’s the one I’m currently dating. Don’t make me choose between you mom, because right now I’m afraid you would lose."

"Catherine listen to what you’re saying. You would chose that woman over your family?"

"No, I would choose her over you. Look at what you’re doing, Mother!"

"Ilene," Cat’s father stood at the railing of the bedroom. "That’s enough, leave Cat alone and come to bed."

The older woman looked to her husband and then to her daughter, without another word she turned and went upstairs leaving Cat mad and shaking.

A few minutes later Cat took the phone into the kitchen and dialed. She waited until Dylan picked up the phone and then she said the first thing that came to mind. "I love you."

*******

Dylan drummed her fingers on the steering wheel; her mind was elsewhere, which was obvious by the sound of the horn behind her. "Yeah, yeah, yeah…

give me a break." She hit the gas and went through the light, taking a second to clear her thoughts.

She had managed to get Cat calmed down from last night’s unexpected confrontation without responding to the younger woman’s declaration. Cat hadn’t

even seemed to notice, but the whole thing had left Dylan re-examining her relationship with the star player.

Just when she didn’t think things could get worse, she got a call from Horace’s executive secretary. The old man was demanding that Dylan come to his

house. It was certainly the last thing on the planet the coach wanted to do, but Horace wrote the checks, and if he wanted to see her she really couldn’t tell him to go to hell.

"Though you bet your ass I’d like to," she growled into the rearview mirror.

Turning off the main road, she slowed the car so she could enjoy the drive out to the estate. The road she was on was public, but it was barely traveled, making more like a private drive. She could just slow down and enjoy the scenery for a few minutes; it would give her time to try and figure out what

Horace wanted and maybe give her some answers about dealing with Cat.

Ten minutes later she pulled up to the gates that kept Horace’s house secluded and away from the fans that might want to kick the old goat’s ass. Dylan

was no closer to knowing what he wanted, but she had come to a conclusion about Cat. Take it one day at a time.

Not that she was frightened, exactly, or unaware of the steadily deepening feelings between herself and one Catherine Hodges. She didn’t know if she

could call it love yet. Then again, being who and what she was, she never had much practice with that particular emotion.

"There’s just so goddamn much at stake," she muttered, hitting the button to lower her window as the callbox came into view.

Placing her finger on the "announce" button, she waited until a woman’s voice answered her buzz.

"Yes?"

"Dylan Lambert to see Mr. Johnson."

"Of course, Dylan. Horace is expecting you. Please come up."

The gate opened slowly, it’s chain making a noise that made it clear it needed a good oiling.

"Maybe he’ll get locked in." Dylan chuckled as she pulled her car up to the house. Before she had time to remove her sunglasses the front door swung open and a rather attractive older woman opened the door.

"Dylan," she smiled, opening her arms for a hug. "I’m so glad to see you again!"

Dylan returned the embrace fully. She'd known Hellene Johnson for a number of years and liked her a great deal. She was dignified, warm, kind and giving; the exact opposite, in other words, of her bigoted husband.

"Horace is with his doctor right now, but he’ll be with you shortly. Can I offer you anything? Coffee? Wine? Something a bit stronger, perhaps?"

"Water would be fine."

Hellene smiled, and Dylan found herself appreciating the woman’s genuine warmth all over again. Her anger at Horace grew. Why he felt the need to step

out with a succession of airheads with chest sizes equal to their IQ’s when he had a partner who so obviously cared for him was something she would

never understand.

"I’ll be right back."

As Hellene left the room, Dylan stuffed her hands in her pockets, but began giving the room a through look over. On what appeared to be an antique chest

there were several photos. Inspecting them more closely, she found pictures of Horace and his wife along with a son and two daughters. She wasn’t

surprised to find the wife and the children looked happy but Horace always seemed to look as if he had a bad smell under his nose.

Hellene returned in short order and handed Dylan a tall glass of water. "Please have a seat and make yourself comfortable."

"Thank you." Dylan settled on a long leather sofa and Hellene took a seat in the matching armchair.

"So tell me, Dylan, are you happy with the Badgers?"

"I am. The Badgers have the makings of a championship team."

"Well, drafting Catherine Hodges was a stroke of genius on your part."

"Thank you. I’m not sure your husband feels the same way."

"Oh you have to ignore Horace most of the time. I promise you, his bark is far worse than his bite."

Dylan smiled and sipped her water. "Well, having been on the receiving end of his bite—metaphorically speaking—a few times, I’d say they’re about

equal."

A moment later, a tall man in an impeccably pressed suit entered the living room. "Hellene, Horace is fine. But I still want him to take it easy for a few more days. And keep him off the liquor."