Getting Back

by Cindy Rizzo

As Elizabeth stood, she encouraged Ruth to do the same, kissing her as they both got up. She had a brief notion to skip the bedroom altogether and begin right there on the couch. The trip to the next room felt like an interminable journey.

  But then Ruth put her arm around Elizabeth’s waist and urged her forward.

  “Show me,” she said.

  They walked slowly, their sides pressed together, neither of them able to let go.

  Finally, they reached the side of the bed and turned to face one another. Elizabeth let herself be drawn into Ruth’s captivating dark eyes; their dizzying effect never failed to astound her. There was no one else for her. There never had been and never would be.

  She watched Ruth remove her shirt and bra and step out of her shoes. Elizabeth stared at her breasts, fuller than she remembered, the nipples darker. She ran her hand down one and fondled a puckered nipple between two fingers.

  “Always so perfect,” she said. “So perfect for me.”

  When Ruth reached for the button on her pants, Elizabeth grasped her hand.

  “Not yet, please.”

  She knew from the smile she received that Ruth had not forgotten how they liked to start. Still fully clothed, Elizabeth slipped off her shoes and sat down on the side of the bed, pulling Ruth to her. She leaned back and Ruth came onto the bed, lying on her side, a hand slowly caressing Elizabeth’s face and then playing with her hair.

  Ruth came closer and began to kiss her, softly at first and then, at Elizabeth’s silent urging, more forcefully, her hands tugging at Elizabeth’s blouse. Elizabeth raised the fabric up and over her head and let Ruth remove her bra. Did Ruth remember what they’d do next? She had to. Elizabeth needed to feel the weight of Ruth’s body on her. She needed to be taken that way with Ruth’s hand lodged inside her underwear. Remember? She asked silently. Like we’re somewhere forbidden and we have to be quick.

  But Ruth stayed next to her, lying on her side as they continued to kiss. She seemed to be hesitating, waiting for something. Maybe she no longer wanted that. Maybe she thought Elizabeth didn’t.

  Elizabeth moved her mouth back to Ruth’s sensitive spot and kissed it, circling it with her tongue and then nipping at it. She felt Ruth’s body tremble. “Darling,” she whispered in Ruth’s ear, “I no longer need to have all the control. You don’t have to wait for me to tell you. Take what you want. It’s here for you.”

  “Oh God,” said Ruth, “I want you so much. I’ve wanted this for so long.”

  Ruth’s hands were on her shoulders, no longer gentle. She turned Elizabeth onto her back and then Elizabeth felt it, just what she’d hoped for. The fullness of Ruth’s body on her. The excitement and perfection of Ruth covering her completely, kissing her neck, lacing their fingers together. Ruth’s mouth first on one nipple, licking, teasing, hungry, and then on the other. Elizabeth felt the wetness spreading between her legs. She was fluid, molded to Ruth, starved for every touch of her hands and her mouth. Finally Ruth’s fingers were on her stomach sliding lower inside the waistband of her skirt and working the button and zipper. Then they were on her thigh, between her legs, and on the outside of her panties, drifting toward the ache at Elizabeth’s center. Ruth’s fingers slid inside the elastic of her panties and they both groaned at the first touch.

  Elizabeth’s need surged, her hips undulating of their own accord. Two fingers explored the length of her, gliding over her clitoris, causing her to gasp and her breathing to become ragged. And then Ruth was inside her, pushing in and sliding out, insistent, unyielding. Elizabeth moved with her as she climbed toward her peak.

  She felt Ruth nibble her earlobe.

  “We shouldn’t be doing this in a courtroom, but I wanted you so much I couldn’t wait.”

  Ruth was playing their little game from long ago.

  “Oh baby, that’s right,” whispered Ruth. “We don’t have much time. I need you now. Now!”

  Those words and Ruth’s fingers brought Elizabeth higher. Strong waves took over from deep within her. She cried out.

  “Oh, Ruth. Oh! Yes! So good.”

  A few seconds later, Ruth stilled her hand and kissed her. She pressed Ruth even closer as several vibrations shook her body, like the aftershocks of an earthquake.

  When Elizabeth’s breathing returned to normal, she felt Ruth begin to move.

  “I should get off you. I weigh more than I did at nineteen.”

  “No, please. I still want you here. I have to feel you completely. My need for you like this, I can’t even describe it. It’s everything.”

  Beginning at the top of her head, Ruth covered Elizabeth’s face and then her neck with little kisses. Elizabeth’s mouth found Ruth’s and they began again to kiss passionately. Then Ruth drew back slightly and gazed at Elizabeth. She stared back, trying to communicate all that she felt, but not yet able to put it into words.

  “Elizabeth, ya lyublu tibya. I never stopped. I never will, lapochka.”

  Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes. “Ruth, ya lyublu tibya. I’ve always been yours.

  Chapter 19

  November 4 & 5, 2008

  “Hello, darling, I have a meeting in a few minutes, but I just called to tell you that I really detest sleeping alone.”

  She heard Ruth’s laughter on the other end of the line.

  “Me too. But wasn’t I at least a little successful at making it more palatable with the sweet bedtime story I told you?”

  “Mmm, that was fun, but when I woke up and you weren’t beside me, I decided that being apart so we could each go vote early on Election Day was a very poor decision.”

  “You’re probably right. I got there at seven a.m., and the line was already around the block. It wouldn’t have been much worse if I’d come an hour later.”

  “Same thing up by me, except it was six thirty and there were already a hundred people in front of me. Really, does anyone in Manhattan think Obama is going to lose New York State?”

  “I think we all just want to say we voted for the first African-American president.”

  “I’ll tell you, if pushing that lever extra hard could have made my vote count in Pennsylvania or Ohio, I would have gladly done so. Anything to keep that Palin woman out of the White House.”

  “Well, that’s why Lauren is over in Cincinnati getting out the vote. Oh, and Mark called me.”

  “This morning? What time was it there? Did he get any sleep?”

  “Probably not. It was five a.m. on the West Coast and he was going somewhere east of LA to take people to the polls.”

  “Does he think the referendum will pass?”

  “He says it’s too close to call.”

  “Reese was in here just before all worked up about it. Oh, and my attorney called. We have a court date next Monday for the adoption. Reese is hoping you’ll come. She thinks you can pull rank or something if the judge isn’t nice to us.”

  Ruth chuckled.

  “That’s very funny. I hope you told her it doesn’t work that way. But I doubt you’ll have any problems. Your paperwork was fine.”

  “Darling, I have to get going. I love you.”

  “Me too, you. My place tonight for election returns and other activities?”

  “Yes, but I’d reverse the order of those two.”

  Elizabeth moved her naked body closer to Ruth, who was sitting up in bed hunched over her laptop, the TV’s election night returns in the background. She linked a leg with one of Ruth’s.

  “Nothing yet from California,” said Ruth.

  “Darling,” said Elizabeth, “it’s only eight o’clock there. The polls have just closed. Let’s look on the bright side. Obama’s won, we’re holding on to Congress. That should give us hope for California.”

  “Do you think Margaret might know anything?”


  “You don’t want to call Mark?”

  “He’s so caught up in this, I’m worried that if the news is bad, he might not want to talk at all. I’d rather wait until he calls.”

  “Let’s give it a little while and then we’ll call Margaret.”

  Elizabeth stroked Ruth’s leg with hers and then positioned it strategically, adding a little pressure.

  “If your plan is to distract me, it’s working,” said Ruth as she ran a hand down Elizabeth’s arm.

  “Well, I’m grateful that this fifty-two-year-old body can still serve as a distraction.”

  Ruth lifted the computer off her lap and placed it on the bed. She slid down and turned toward Elizabeth.

  “Sweetheart, don’t ever doubt that your beautiful, sexy fifty-two-year-old body has quite an effect on me.”

  Elizabeth pulled Ruth on top of her.

  “You know, this is a wonderful bed you’ve got. Much more comfortable than mine. How about, when you move in, we take this uptown?”

  Ruth drew her head back.

  “When I move in? You’re ready for that?”

  Elizabeth put her hand to her temple, pretending to think.

  “Hmmm, I see what you mean. Perhaps it would be more prudent to wait another thirty years?”

  Ruth lowered her head onto Elizabeth’s chest, her body shaking with laughter. When she opened her mouth to speak, she instead lapsed back into a convulsion of guffaws. Finally regaining her composure, she gazed down at Elizabeth for a moment, a sly tight-lipped smile on her face.

  “I humbly accept your invitation to cohabit, Ms. Morrison, and I grant your motion that this bed become the locus of our new status of living in sin.”

  Elizabeth ran her hands through Ruth’s hair and kissed her.

  “Well, Judge Abramson, if it please the court, I have yet another suggestion for you to entertain.”

  “The court is quite interested in being pleased.”

  Elizabeth woke to the soft press of Ruth’s hand on her cheek. “Oh my, did I fall asleep?”

  “Just for a bit. I enjoyed watching you. But it’s nearly midnight and I was wondering if we could call Margaret.”

  Elizabeth turned to the nightstand next to her side of the bed and reached for her phone.

  “Margaret, I’ve got you on speaker. Ruth’s here.”

  “Hi, Margaret.”

  “Oh Ruth, did you just drop by at Elizabeth’s at, um, midnight because you were in the neighborhood?” Margaret’s voice was filled with amusement.

  “Actually, she’s at my place and we’re naked together in bed,” said Ruth.

  Elizabeth shook her head. “Ruth! You know what she’ll do with a comment like that.”

  Ruth smiled back at her and spoke into the phone. “Yes, Margaret. Don’t disappoint us. Give it your best shot.”

  “I’m, I’m just scandalized,” said Margaret.

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Ruth raised a finger, indicating that she should wait.

  “No sex tips?” said Ruth. “No imparting of your infinite wisdom on how to please a woman?”

  Elizabeth giggled. “Darling,” she said, “I’m wondering if it’s dear Margaret who might need our help instead?”

  The voice coming through the phone’s small speaker was breezy and a bit haughty.

  “Well, Ruth, it seems you’re determined to pick up where you left off at Fowler in your quest to keep me on my toes. I’ll look forward to it. But while I hate to change the subject, I need to tell you both that you shouldn’t count on getting married in this state. I’m not sure we’re gonna pull it off tonight.”

  Ruth’s eyes were wide. “But the polls closed only an hour ago. How can you possibly know that?”

  “Because the people who do are telling me that it’s not looking good, Ruth. I’m mostly sorry for your boy. I know how hard he’s worked.”

  “Oh, God,” said Elizabeth. “Poor Mark. And Reese will be beside herself tomorrow.”

  “Elizabeth,” said Margaret, “there’s no need to worry. You’ll still be able to walk your little girl down the aisle in Massachusetts.”

  “I wonder for how long?”

  Ruth closed her eyes and shook her head. Her shoulders sagged. Elizabeth took her hand. “Margaret, any chance you can go check up on Mark? He’s likely at the No on 8 headquarters in LA.”

  “Would you?” asked Ruth, her voice weak and pleading.

  Margaret’s sigh in response was dramatic, long, and drawn out. “I suppose. I’ll see what I can do.”

  They woke up the next morning to a text from Margaret time-stamped three a.m. I’ve got the boy. He’s very :( I’m taking him to my place. Signed, Reluctantly Maternal.

  Elizabeth took her first sip of the coffee Ruth had prepared and looked at the wall clock in the kitchen.

  “Ummm, Max will be here in ten minutes, darling.”

  “No need to send him back for me. I’ll walk to the courthouse.”

  “Are you sure?”

  The high-pitched ring of Ruth’s home phone interrupted them. She ran to the counter at the back of the kitchen and picked it up.

  Elizabeth watched as Ruth covered the mouthpiece with her hand and then whispered, “It’s Mark. He’s crying.”

  “Can you put him on speaker phone?”

  He sounded exhausted and defeated.

  “Mom, I’m so, so sorry. I wanted to do this for you and for Elizabeth. I was hoping…”He broke off. Elizabeth heard sniffling.

  “Mark, it’s Elizabeth. I’m here with your mother.”

  “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. We lost. I let you down.”

  “No, no, honey, you didn’t,” said Ruth.

  Ruth slumped into a kitchen chair, the phone in her hand. Gently, Elizabeth took it from her.

  “Mark, please listen to me, you did no such thing.” Maybe a little bit of Queen Elizabeth would get through to him. “Your mother and I couldn’t be prouder of you. You worked day and night for this. I saw you at that fundraiser. You were charming and persuasive. You did everything humanly possible.”

  “It wasn’t enough.”

  Ruth leaned in toward the phone in Elizabeth’s hand.

  “You’ve been up all night, honey. Get some sleep. This is difficult, I know, but right now with the stress you’ve been under, it feels hopeless.”

  “It’s not,” Elizabeth chimed in. “Your mother and I have both lived through things that felt utterly hopeless in the moment but with time they worked out. Look at all those people your grandfather helped bring over from Russia. And so much has improved for women and for gays since your mother and I were in college. This is one loss, as heartbreaking as it is. But I promise you, it will happen. We’re all living proof that things can change for the better.”

  November 11, 2008

  Reese closed the door behind her as she entered Elizabeth’s office. She raised her hand in greeting.

  “Hi.” Her smile was shy. “Mom.”

  Elizabeth beamed back at her. “I suppose it’ll take some getting used to for both of us.” She hugged Reese. “But I’m so glad that it’s done. Are you?”

  Reese nodded.

  “I wanted to ask you something,” said Reese. “Tomorrow night, there are demonstrations all over the country protesting Proposition 8, including one in New York.” She crinkled her eyes. “Would you want to, you know, go?”

  “Well, you’ll be surprised to learn, Reese, that I already know all about it. Lauren Miller told her mother and now Ruth wants me to come with her.”

  “Wow, Elizabeth, Ruth has the coolest straight kids, doesn’t she?”

  Elizabeth chuckled. “Yes, both of them are lovely. But just like you as of yesterday, their mother is a lesbian so they’re mo
re, shall we say, evolved.”

  “So Ruth is going? Jaret said she didn’t think she would, because there might be a case or something down the line.”

  “She mentioned that she’d normally stay away, but because of Mark she’s going to take a chance and hope she won’t have to recuse herself later on.”

  “So would you…go?”

  “I’m a maybe, which is what I told Ruth. My calendar is quite crowded tomorrow.”

  “It would mean a lot to me and to Jaret if you went.”

  “We’ll see how my day goes, all right, Reese?”

  It seemed that lately all the children needed to hear a bit from Queen Elizabeth.

  November 12, 2008

  It was well after seven when Elizabeth crossed Broadway toward the tiny concrete triangle nestled between Sixty-Fifth and Sixty-Sixth Streets. Normally it would be a ludicrous setting for a demonstration, but this little spit of land happened to be across from the even more bizarrely located Mormon temple on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. She’d seen a news story that the Mormon Church had donated upwards of twenty million dollars to put an end to California’s same-sex marriages by supporting the passage of Proposition 8.

  As she approached the crowd, it appeared that hundreds of people were already there—or was it thousands?

  She heard cries of “Tax this church!” and “No Hate!” Signs with that message spelled the word H8. Clever. There was a long banner stretched out in front of the Mormon temple with the words “God Loves Gay Marriage” in big block letters.

  She’d met Paul Stanton on the way over and they both stood on the edge of the crowd taking in the scene.

  “How will I ever find Ruth?” she asked him.

  She fished her phone out of her bag to see if Ruth would be able to hear a call with all this noise. Instead, she saw that there was a text.