by Clara Reese
Under me, I hear Gina’s harsh gasps as she comes, her pussy glistening and throbbing right under my face. I can’t wait to spoil her some more and see what pleasures she still has in store for me.
But all that can wait, a few minutes at least. I need to try and remember how to breathe. I need to snuggle down beside this woman and hold her, keep holding on to her.
For at least a night, I can pretend she’s really mine and I’m really hers.
18
Gina
We’re cuddled up together, and I can’t believe how comfortably Dawn fits in my arms. My bed is only a single, so there’s definitely no room to turn over, but instead of cramped it feels kind of cozy. I glance down at Dawn, her hair spilling over the pillows and my shoulder. She looks angelic, and there’s a warm feeling in my chest.
How did I get this lucky?
It’s a comfortable silence for a little while, just the sound of our breathing and the asthmatic ticking of my secondhand clock. It’s kind of soothing.
“You know...this is the most comfortable I’ve ever felt with myself,” Dawn says in a soft voice. “This right here. With you.”
“Yeah?” I ask, shifting a little so I can see her face more clearly. There’s a gentle wistful expression in her eyes that makes something go tight in my throat.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I had everything money could buy. My parents spared no expense. The best clothes, the best nannies, the best schools, the best tutors. Dad was determined that, even if I was a girl and therefore automatically disappointing, at least I would make the family proud by becoming a lawyer and joining the family firm.”
She sighs a little. “I knew I wasn’t like my family even when I was really little, I guess. I wanted to make pretty things, I didn’t want to work in a stuffy office all day like dad. I definitely didn’t want to marry some ugly man like my mom wanted me to. It was like everything I did just wasn’t good enough, no matter how hard I tried.”
“That sounds tough,” I say. It does, too. It’s all too easy to picture a tiny golden-haired little girl being told she’s not good enough. I tighten my arm a little around her shoulders as though I can protect her from everything that has ever happened.
“When I met the Monroe sisters, I was about ten,” she continues. “They were my first friends, and at least they were rich enough that my parents didn’t mind us spending time together. The De Winter family were invited to my thirteenth birthday party so father could make connections with Mr. De Winter, and Gabby crashed into our group like a whirlwind.”
I like how happy she looks when she talks about her friends. “They are pretty awesome people,” I put in, and she laughs a little and nods.
“They are. It was only due to them and Uncle Arthur that I ever felt comfortable with being gay. I think Uncle Arthur always knew that I might need his support, and he tried to be around through my mid-teens, just kind of gently putting it out there that it was all right to be who I was. He was even there when I came out to my parents, and held me afterwards while I cried.”
“It wasn’t good, huh?”
“That’s an understatement. The worst was,” her voice drops so quiet that I can barely hear her. “When Tiffany got together with me, all she wanted was to steal my ideas. She’d tell me how much work everything I came up with needed so I’d keep making newer and better ideas to try to make her proud of me.
“But she was taking the ideas to a competitor to pay off some debts she racked up, and when I found out, she told me it was my fault for being stupid enough to trust her. Being used like that really hurt, and didn’t date again for...well...for a very long time.”
I wish now that I’d said something really unpleasant to Tiffany. How dare that bitch treat Dawn so horribly, then have the fucking gall to act like it was her fault? I wish I could go back in time and punch her in the face. That would be incredibly satisfying.
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. I can tell from Dawn’s expression that she’s feeling uncomfortable with how open she’s been, so I take a deep breath. “I always wanted to sing on stage, ever since I can remember. It’s everything I wanted to do with my life.”
She settles close to me, the warm weight somehow comforting.
“I was in every school play and I papered my room back home with Broadway posters...I knew exactly where I wanted to start...but then Carlo was so sick and we always had medical bills we had to pay. Dad’s salary and the money Mama earned didn’t go far, so we all had to chip in, especially if any of my brothers were going to be able to go to college.
“It was always ‘maybe next year’. There’s no time to audition and keep on top of my work, and beginning roles really don’t make very much money. Of course then Papa…” I stop, remembering my amazing, loving Papa, who never thought any different of me for being gay and was always ready to talk.
Dawn makes a soft, sympathetic noise.
“He was so brave. He was always ready to do anything for anyone. When he died, it felt like everyone who knew him just forgot about us. Mama had to take a second job to keep us going, and Matteo and I were putting anything we could spare toward getting the twins into college. I feel like I’m always running but never getting anywhere.”
“I’m sorry too,” Dawn says. “That’s a lot to deal with.”
It feels nice to have shared all these secrets that I’ve been hiding deep down with someone who can understand how hard it has all been. I let out a huge sigh, and Dawn does the same. Then we look at each other and we’re giggling and hugging.
“This was good,” I say softly. “Thanks for listening.”
“You too,” Dawn reaches for her phone. “Let’s get takeout. Do you like Thai?”
“I love Thai! Do you know a good place?”
“The absolute best. Anything you like in particular?”
“Everything.” My mouth is watering. I usually can’t afford Thai and I love it.
“Gotcha.” She winks. “Why don’t you find us something to watch on TV while I get us some food?”
It’s the work of a few minutes to move my TV into the bedroom and set up an old season of Project Runway. We cuddle up together and I start the show, delighted with Dawn’s squeals of outrage. She can’t stop critiquing everyone’s fashion choices and a lot of her points are hilariously accurate.
The food arrives and it turns out that she did actually order everything on the menu. We gorge ourselves on delicious food and Dawn uses the paper napkins and a sheet to drape together a dress for one of the challenges and model it for me. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so much.
“No, that’s the wrong person to win,” she’s saying angrily as the sixth contestant is kicked out. “Can’t you see that dude only ever uses the same dress form? Where are your eyes, Michael?”
“Strong feelings, huh?” I ask, smothering a laugh as she sends me an incensed look.
“It’s not fair! At least her design had some creativity in it. It wasn’t just another draped mermaid dress with long sleeves! They should get me in as a guest judge, I’d show them.”
I laugh, imagining her stalking up and down the judging panel making her feelings clear. “I bet you would.”
“Damn straight.” she leans back so she can rest her head on my shoulder. “You know I don’t think I’ve ever had as much fun in my life as I’m having right now.”
“Yeah?” I ask softly, feeling a small bubble of delight well inside me. The idea that this amazing, rich and powerful woman is actually happy sharing takeout in my tiny bed is breathtaking. “Me either.”
Dammit, I really really like her. She’s everything I could look for in a woman and we’re pretending to be engaged. If this isn’t a recipe for disaster I don’t know what is! But as we snuggle under the covers while Heidi Klum describes yet another task to the beleaguered designers, I decide to enjoy it while it lasts.
19
Dawn
“Gina.”
I sigh sleepily and shift under the bed c
overs. A warm arm snakes around my waist and I smile.
“Gina?”
A voice is gently floating through my head, but I’m too groggy with sleep and blissful happiness to take any notice of it.
“Gina!”
“Fuck!”
Gina’s alarmed voice rouses me slightly, and I turn to face her. “Wassa matter?” I mumble, reaching out for her. Gina is already sitting up in bed, clutching the sheet to her.
“I told her! I fucking told her! Why is she here? Oh god, Dawn, I’m so sorry. My mother’s here.”
I blink rapidly to try and wake myself up and make to sit up before Gina pushes me back down. She throws the covers over my head and jumps up, dragging on some pajama pants and a tee she found in a drawer. I stifle a laugh at her wild expression as she storms from the room, shutting the door firmly behind her.
I hear shouting coming from the living room, two voices speaking over each other and occasionally bursting into Italian. I contemplate sneaking out of the window and down the fire escape, when the door handle rattles and I dive back under the covers.
“Mama! Mama, I’ve told you, you don’t need to come clean my apartment, I’m a big girl. Mama I’ve been away anyway, I haven’t gotten it messy since last time. Mama...for the love of god, why are you here?”
“Don’t be silly, bambina!” Gina’s mother’s voice is louder and suddenly the door bursts open. I stuff my fist into my mouth to stop myself from laughing. Gina is still complaining to her mother, who loudly tuts and continues on her warpath.
“Bambina, you listen to your mother. You want a nice apartment, don’t you? You’re a busy girl, you let me help. You want a nice place to bring girls back to?”
“Mama!” Gina’s voice is outraged, and I can imagine her blushing furiously. I stifle another laugh and try not to move under the bunched up covers. I don’t want to give the game away.
“Gina, don’t be silly. Why don’t you want your apartment to be nice? You want to bring dates back to an apartment that isn’t nice? I bet that young lady currently hiding under your duvet would prefer your apartment to be nice, wouldn’t she?”
Busted.
I hear Gina groan in defeat as I peek out over the top of the duvet. Gina’s mother is standing at the foot of the bed, smiling at me, and I grin sheepishly in return.
“Hello,” I say, holding out a hand nervously, my other hand holding the duvet to my chest like a shield. “My name is Dawn. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Romano.”
“Mrs. Romano,” she scoffs. “She calls me ‘Mrs. Romano’. A girl with manners! You call me Carmina, dear, it separates me from my mother-in-law.”
I laugh and Gina groans again, burying her face in her hands. I like her mom. She’s tiny, but her presence fills the room, and she’s friendly in a way I haven’t encountered before with any of my exes’ families.
“Now, Gina,” Carmina tuts as she gets back to work picking socks up off the floor. “I think it’s outrageous that you’re hiding this lovely young girl from me. Why don’t you want her to meet your Mama? Outrageous.”
Gina rolls her eyes and I grin fondly. “Yes ma,” she says obediently, pulling a face behind Carmina’s back. I snort and quickly cover my mouth.
“Do you want me to do your socks as well, dear?” Carmina asks me, putting them in her basket before I can respond. “Now, I’m doing darks today, but if you have any whites, you bring them round to Gina’s next week. I’ll be doing a whites load then. Okay?”
She chatters on as she tidies, and I start to feel rather less uncomfortable. But suddenly she breaks off mid-sentence and turns to face Gina. I open my mouth to ask what’s wrong, but the words die as a see she’s holding up the two open ring boxes. The engagement rings.
Fuck.
“Mama, I can explain,” Gina begins, before trailing off at the look on Carmina’s face.
“Luigina Maria Valentina Romano...” Carmina’s voice drops an octave and I think about hiding under the duvet again. “Do you mean to tell me, your own Mama, that you are engaged, and you did not even think to let me know? You didn’t think ‘oh, I know someone who might enjoy hearing about this big life event of mine’?”
I can hear Gina swallow, but before she can speak, Carmina starts throwing socks at her and she shrieks.
“Everything I do for you, bambina! I slave day in and day out for you and your brothers, and this is how you repay me! You get engaged and you don’t even tell your own mother! Was I even going to get an invite to the wedding?”
I have to bury my head in the duvet to stop myself from laughing. I think Carmina would really get along with Gabby if they ever met. They have the same flair for the dramatic.
“Um, Carmina,” I begin, trying to divert attention, and therefore socks, away from a cringing Gina. “We were going to tell you. We were going to tell you really soon, I promise. It just sort of happened spontaneously, that’s all.”
For a second I think I’ll also get the sock treatment, and I get ready to duck beneath the duvet. But Carmina studies me intently before dropping the laundry basket and pulling me into a hug. I hug her back and give a thumbs up to Gina above Carmina’s head.
“Oh, bambina. I’m not angry at you. I wish my only daughter had been more forthcoming with her life updates, of course...all those times she told me nothing was happening and nobody had caught her attention...but it’s okay. I just wish we had known, so that we could meet you properly.”
I gently extract myself from Carmina’s grip. Even when she’s angry, she’s nicer than my mother. It makes me feel slightly wistful, to know what I’ve been missing out on, family-wise.
“You will bring your fiancée around for dinner tonight, bambina.” Carmina’s tone is firm and leaves no room for argument. Gina attempts to protest anyway but is shut down by Carmina sweeping out of the room.
“Tonight. 7pm. Both of you. No excuses. Your brothers will all be there.”
The front door slams shut and Gina and I look at each for a moment before bursting into laughter. This wasn’t how I imagined our morning would go, but I’m glad I met Gina’s mother. She’s clearly put out that she didn’t know about the engagement, but she’s also genuine and sincere in her love and affection for Gina.
I twist the duvet between my fingers. Carmina reminds me of the mother I used to imagine I had as a child. Probably an amalgamation of some of my preferred nannies, and maybe Uncle Arthur too. My imaginary mother was always happy and willing to play, and always told me that she loved me.
It’s a far cry from my real mother, who was usually too busy to notice the people around her, even if they were family. I smile as I think about how, even though Carmina might not be my actual mother, she would be an amazing mother-in-law. It takes me a few moments to remember that this marriage isn’t going to last forever.
I reach across the bed and find Gina’s hand. She’s still blushing hard, and her cheeks grow redder when I kiss her hand softly. I don’t want to think about how this will end yet. I’d rather think about Gina, and the time we still have together.
Besides, if I’m going to meet her whole family, we need to put on a good show. I doubt they’ll be happy with her marrying just anyone.
20
Gina
I bury my face in my hands and shake my head. I’ve never been more embarrassed. I told Mama not to come and clean my apartment. Why did she choose this weekend to do it?
I try to look anywhere other than at Dawn, but she grabs my face and turns it towards hers. She is laughing, and I’m struck again by how beautiful she is.
“I’m so sorry,” I groan. “Mama gets…excited. She’s a nightmare, I swear. We don’t have to go to dinner tonight. I’ll make some excuses.”
I’m surprised when Dawn shakes her head vehemently. “No! I want to go meet your family. Your mother is lovely, and I think she likes me!”
I laugh at her enthusiasm. “She definitely likes you, but the engagement rings, maybe not so much.” I’m worried that she�
��s more upset than she is letting on. I’ve never kept secrets from her before, and it’s always been us two girls against the world.
Dawn squeezes my hand again, and I think how lucky I am that she’s so understanding. “It’ll all be okay,” she promises. “She loves you so much, I can tell. Let’s go to the dinner. And hey, it can’t be any worse than that awful skiing trip we have to go on with my side!”
I agree. I know that no matter how surprised my family might be, or how much of a bad idea they think the engagement is, they will be nothing but lovely to Dawn and supportive of me. I don’t think either me or Dawn can promise that from her family.
We start moving some of my stuff, throwing clothes and trinkets into boxes and hauling them out to the car. I have a fleeting thought that we’re packing a lot of stuff considering I’ll likely only be staying there a few months. But it makes me feel unsettlingly good to pack the car knowing that all my worldly possessions will soon be in Dawn’s apartment. Dawn laughs at me for a solid 10 minutes as I try in vain to find my spare cell phone charger, and I finally admit defeat.
We slump down onto the kitchen floor and start to tackle the refrigerator and freezer. I see Dawn raise her eyebrows at the amount of ice cream in the freezer and raise my head in defiance. No one tells me I have too much mint chocolate chip or butter pecan.
“I like ice cream, okay?” I challenge.
“Hey, I didn’t say anything!” Dawn raises her hands in surrender and grins. “I like ice cream as much as the next girl.”
We take a break to eat a couple of pints of ice cream. The intention was to nail down some more details regarding the ski trip and how we’re going to handle it, but we are quickly side-tracked. Dawn is hilarious and has me in stitches on the floor with her impressions of her family members. I haven’t had this much fun in years, and I find myself wishing I had made some kind of move on Dawn months ago when we first started working together on the chalet.
