by Sabrina Kane
“You should come over to our side,” Amy said around a mouthful of kung pao chicken.
“I’m sure there are some stupid lesbians, too,” Rachel reproached.
“Oh, lots of them! But at least they have boobs!”
Chapter 10
On Wednesday evening, Sally finally felt human enough to leave her darkened bedroom at a little past five. She was famished but otherwise feeling terrific.
Thank God!
This morning, she had taken a sick day from work because she had woken up with a terrible migraine. As she typed out the There’s no way in hell I’m working today email to the team of designers she managed, Sally had had to wince in agony at the brightness of the small screen and how it made her feel like broken glass was inside her skull.
The email sent, she had set her phone to silent mode and then started the business of ridding herself of the migraine.
She had gotten up once during the morning, around eight a.m., to use the bathroom. Though the migraine was still with her, she had taken the opportunity to check her emails to make sure no one on her team of graphic designers was completely lost without her leadership. She had also noticed that Lisa had sent her three texts, but she hadn’t wanted to be bothered reading them and so she ignored those. But Amy had also sent a text! That one she did read, though the brightness of the phone’s screen was not helping her head. Amy’s text had said something about an email and then how she was looking forward to Friday.
Sally had had no idea what email Amy was talking about but she did send a reply telling her that she too was excited about Friday. Then she had put the phone back down and hoped she would die.
Death didn’t come but sleep apparently did, thanks to the prescription migraine pills she had popped upon waking up.
Her bedside clock told her that she had pretty much slept all day: all morning, through lunch and into the evening. Now, her migraine was gone, she was starving and she was looking forward to an evening on the sofa continuing to binge-watch The Great Pottery Throw Down because who knew that watching British people making pottery could be fun?
She was trying to decide between ordering a pizza or ordering Thai food when her doorbell rang. Not expecting anybody, she warily looked through the peephole and spied Lisa on the other side, practically bouncing up and down like she had to pee really bad.
“What are you doing here?” Sally asked when she opened the door.
Lisa just stood there for a moment, staring at Sally, a goofy grin on her face.
Sally frowned at her friend.
“What?” she asked impatiently.
Lisa squealed and then rushed into Sally’s arms.
“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmyGOD!” Lisa screamed. “I can’t believe it!”
Sally had no idea what was going on. Disentangling herself from Lisa, she asked exactly what it was that Lisa couldn’t believe.
Lisa rushed into Sally’s apartment.
“Hello?” Lisa began. “That you’re Jillian Ashley!”
Sally’s mouth dropped open.
Oh, shit!
In all the weirdness of the past twenty-four hours she had completely overlooked the fact that Lisa would see Amy’s interview. But of course Lisa would see it. Lisa stayed hip to everything lesbian in the world. She had even found out somehow that Revlon’s If I Want To matte lipstick was the shade for lesbians this season and so now always wore it. She was even wearing it now.
And if Lisa saw the interview…
It also meant that all of Sally’s other queer female friends had seen it.
Shit!
She thought of her phone. It was still in the bedroom. Rushing past Lisa, she went into the still-darkened room, picked it up and turned it on.
Shit!
She had never seen so many notifications on her phone. In. Her. Life!
Missed calls, voicemails, text messages, emails, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram…it seemed like every gay woman Sally knew, even marginally, had tried to reach her today! She was going to kill Max for getting her mixed up in all this!
Thinking of whom, there was also a Venmo notification that said it was from him. She tapped it.
Max Tremont just paid you $500!
Holy shit!
That was her car payment and her normal electric bill taken care of this month! Or, put another way, more money for shoe shopping.
Okay, she decided, Max could live.
She turned to head back to the living room and gasped. Lisa was standing right next to her.
“Jesus, you scared me!” she hissed, smacking Lisa’s arm.
“Why did you never tell me?” Lisa asked, still smiling like an idiot and looking at Sally with the same look people have when they spot their favorite movie star walking down the street.
Sally knew she needed to set the record straight but just as she was about to open her mouth to do so, she realized what a mistake that would be. Lisa was perhaps the most indiscreet person Sally knew. In fact, as much as Sally loved Lisa to bits, she also knew that telling her best friend any sensitive information was the same as taking out an ad on TV during the Super Bowl. If Sally now told Lisa the truth about what she and Max were doing, it would spread through the Lesbianverse like a dry-brush fire and not only would Max’s writing career be finished but lesbians here in Carlsbad might actually throw rotten fruit at Sally whenever she went outside.
She needed to keep the truth from Lisa.
“Um…because you have a big mouth and would have told everyone,” she stated, walking past her and back into the living room.
“But I’m your best friend!” Lisa whined.
“My best friend who has a big mouth and would have told everyone,” Sally reiterated.
“So all those times we were reading Jillian Ashley books together…”
Fuck!
Sally thought quickly.
“I was just pretending because obviously I had read them already because obviously I wrote them. Have you eaten?” she asked, wanting to change the topic. “Because I’m starving and was about to order something.”
“Ooh, let me do it for you!” Lisa exclaimed. “What kind of best friend to Jillian Ashley would I be if I didn’t buy her dinner?”
Sally sighed and plopped down on the sofa. Lena finally made an appearance from wherever she had been hiding in apparent effort to determine what all the fuss was about. Evidently, the cat deemed the ruckus not worthy of her time because after glaring at the two women, she went back from whence she came.
Sally allowed Lisa to buy Jillian Ashley a pizza and while they waited for it to be delivered had to explain to her friend when it was she decided to start writing lesfic, where she got her ideas from and how it feels having so many fans. It was basically Amy’s interview all over again, but Lisa was acting as if countless lesbians hadn’t already heard these answers now; that Sally was giving her an exclusive peek into the mind of the great lesfic author.
“How did you come up with Jillian Ashley as a pen name, though?” Lisa eventually asked.
That one threw Sally and she felt a momentary panic. She couldn’t use Max’s story of how he came up with the name, her own mother being named Leslie and her own sister being named Camille.
“I, uh, just randomly picked some names off a baby-naming website.”
“Oh, I see!” Lisa said, still in awe, as if Sally had just imparted to her the answer to the Sphinx’s riddle.
“So, have you made a lot of money off the books?” Lisa asked.
Five-hundred dollars.
“Um…I mean, yeah, sure,” Sally said, thinking of the image of Max’s sales charts from the other day.
“Are you going to, like, buy a Porsche or a beach house or something?”
“Jesus, Lisa! Next you’ll be expecting me to purchase a private plane!”
“What else is there to do with money, Sally?”
“Oh, I don’t know…Pay off the mortgage on this place. Invest it. Save for retirement.” Assuming there would be
more than five-hundred dollars coming, of course. And the only way to ensure that was to keep the ruse going.
Sighing, Sally sat back and wondered how many more of these ridiculous questions she was going to have to answer tonight.
***
Lisa finally left at around eight o’clock, and quite frankly, Sally couldn’t have been happier to see her go. Lisa on her best behavior was a handful. Lisa after recently discovering that she was the best friend of the Jillian Ashley was insufferable.
The day-long nap she had taken to cure her migraine meant that Sally was now wide awake. She had no idea how she would eventually fall asleep later but she’d cross that bridge when she came to it. Right now, with Lisa gone and her hunger sated with pizza, Sally was finally ready to curl up on the couch and watch British potters throw pottery.
Naturally, her phone rang.
“Hello?” she answered with a bit more edge to her voice than normal.
“Hello? Is this Sally?” a woman’s voice replied.
“Yes, it is. Who’s this?”
“Hi! This is Ainsley Janowicz. Um…our mothers work together and your mother gave me your phone number because she thought we might like to meet up, maybe have a drink?”
Fuck!
“Oh, Ainsley!” Sally said, trying hard to not sound like the pretentiousness of the name was grating on her every nerve. “Yes, Mom mentioned it. So glad you called!” It was a lie but Sally figured why be a bitch?
A breathed sigh of relief came over the connection.
“Oh, thank goodness! I’m pretty crap at doing this, you know. I mean, it’s not how I normally meet women.”
Sally figured Ainsley normally met women at tea parties on Mount Olympus. Still, though, she had to admit that Ainsley had a pretty sexy voice.
“Anyway,” the doctor continued, “look, I know that the last thing you probably want is a blind date but I have a feeling we have something in common.”
Nope! I’ve never been to Mount Olympus and I have a normal name!
“Really?” Sally asked. “And what do we have in common?”
“We both have overbearing mothers who will absolutely not let us live a moment in peace unless we meet for one drink.”
Sally laughed at that, which surprised her. She didn’t think anyone who dwelled on Mount Olympus even had a sense of humor.
“So, what do you say we at least meet for that drink, do our daughterly duty and get our two Moms off our backs? No pressure for anything else.”
Sally was smiling. She liked the way Doctor Ainsley thought. And even though she was certain having one drink with anyone named Ainsley would be as enjoyable as spending time with a chihuahua, at least Ainsley was acknowledging that this blind date was simply a chore to be got done with in order to shut their mothers up.
“I think that’s a great idea,” Sally told her, knowing that her voice telegraphed the smile still on her face.
“Fabulous! You’re in Carlsbad, right?” Ainsley then chuckled. “Don’t get weirded out. My mother, no doubt coached by your mother, told me all your vitals: let’s see, you live in Carlsbad; you’re a graphic designer; you’re five-foot-ten and have green eyes.”
Sally laughed.
“Did she include my social security number?”
“No,” Ainsley replied, “but at the least the criminal background check was negative.”
Sally laughed again, which alarmed her. She wasn’t supposed to enjoy talking to someone named Ainsley.
“Anyway,” Ainsley went on, “I live in San Diego but I know a great coastal bar about halfway between us, in Solana Beach. How about tomorrow night?”
“Oh, tomorrow is no good,” Sally said. “I hate to sound like an old lady but I have a super important meeting early on Friday morning with a client and I really want to make sure I get to bed early tomorrow night. I know that also sounds like the lamest excuse ever but I swear it’s true.”
Ainsley laughed.
“Fear not, I believe you and can relate. I always make a point to get to bed early the night before I have to do a procedure. How about Saturday afternoon, then?”
The woman really did have an amazing voice, Sally considered again. She told Ainsley that Saturday would be perfect. Ainsley told her the name of the bar and they agreed on a time.
When the call ended, Sally looked at the device and shrugged.
One drink.
Chapter 11
Nope! Way too much!
Amy shimmied out of the dress she had just put on in her bedroom. It was one of her favorites, a flirty blue number with a flared hem. It fit her perfectly, showed off her legs and with the right bra it even flattered her bustline. But it was too much…too fancy. It was perfect for a proper date out to dinner or dancing but she was meeting Jillian at La Vida Mocha, a laid-back and chill coffeeshop. Also…was this a date?
Amy seemed to think so. There was no doubting the chemistry her and Jillian practically oozed the other day during the podcast, and there was no doubting the flirting she and Jillian had engaged in either. In fact, many of the people who had commented on the interview even made mention of it. And even though Amy had made the invitation to coffee sound like it was merely a way of thanking Jillian for appearing on her show, she was certain that Jillian had cottoned on to the fact that that was just pretense.
Okay, so…a real date. This meant she must make an effort appearance-wise while also keeping her outfit laid-back and chill, La Vida Mocha style.
In another twenty minutes Amy was almost ready to go, dressed in black skinny jeans that were fashionably ripped at the knees and a simple lilac tee. She accessorized with a few bangles on her right arm and a colorful beaded necklace she had bought during a trip to Spain a few years ago.
Deciding on her footwear, however, required additional consideration. She wanted to go with a nice pair of high heels, wanting to add a classy and sexy finishing touch to the outfit but, again, she worried it would be too much. The operative words were laid-back and casual. So, after further debate, she went with one of her favorite pairs of lace ballet flats. She examined the final result in the full-length mirror in her bedroom.
Ready! Shit, and running late!
Grabbing her Michael Kors tote purse from where she had left it on her make-up table, Amy checked that it contained her car keys, tossed her phone inside as well as the lipstick she was wearing in case she needed to touch it up and fifteen seconds later she was out the door.
The traffic gods were kind to her and she made it to La Vida Mocha at ten minutes to four o’clock, which was perfect. It meant she had plenty of time to find a table for her and Jillian, hopefully one near the window so they could people-watch. Amy loved people-watching and she hoped Jillian did too. Pulling into the parking lot behind the coffeeshop, she wondered if any of the cars already parked belonged to Jillian. The Jeep she knew was Vanessa’s and that Volkswagen she knew belonged to Chloë. What kind of car did Jillian drive? There was a Mercedes convertible, black and sleek, parked near a lamppost, that Amy could imagine a bestselling author tooling around town in. But it seemed too flash for Jillian. And she was positive the red Camaro must belong to some guy trying compensate for certain shortcomings.
Parking her own car, Amy shook her head, chiding herself. She knew next to nothing about Jillian. For all she knew, Jillian liked flashy cars and maybe even muscle cars. She reminded herself that she needed to not be starstruck on this date, that she needed to take the time to get to know Jillian and find out things about her—like what kind of car she drives.
Stepping into La Vida Mocha a few moments later, Amy stopped and did a quick scan of the customers already inside. Thanks to the lessening of Covid restrictions in California due to the rise of vaccinations and other measures, places like La Vida Mocha were starting to see the kind of patronage they had in the Before Times. This evening, La Vida Mocha was busy and there was a pleasant hubbub of conversation inside providing an accompaniment to the down-tempo electronic music Vanes
sa always enjoyed playing over the sound system. Amy quickly determined that Jillian’s wasn’t among the faces already here and she also quickly determined that there were only two tables currently unoccupied, including one by the window!
She hurried over to it in order to claim it.
Yay! Choice seat!
But after a minute, she bit her bottom lip, feeling self-conscious. Her usual routine when coming into La Vida Mocha was to head to the counter and immediately order her favorite drink, the one Vanessa named after her, the Amy’s Jet Fuel, and then find a seat. Of course, her usual routine also involved coming into La Vida Mocha alone. The only exceptions were when she was with Rachel but on those occasions, they typically got their coffee to go. Amy had never met a date here and she quite frankly didn’t know what to do. She didn’t like occupying a seat in the coffeeshop without actually having any coffee in front of her to drink. She suddenly felt certain that perhaps Vanessa was glaring at her from behind the counter, wondering why Amy’s ass was taking up valuable seating real estate when Amy hadn’t bothered to buy anything yet. She also suddenly felt certain that other customers were whispering about her; things like, “Look at that freak sitting there without any coffee!” or “What does she think this is, a bus stop?”
Should she order a drink for herself? But what happens when Jillian arrives in—Amy checked her watch—four minutes? She didn’t want Jillian feeling like she had to buy her own coffee; after all, Amy had invited her! Amy wanted to be the one who treated. But getting up from the table to go get Jillian’s coffee right after Jillian arrived seemed awkward in Amy’s mind; so did standing in line with Jillian and then ordering only one coffee.
Argh! Stop it!
Amy knew she was letting her anxiety about being on a date get the best of her. She also knew that she’d be feeling this anxiety no matter the woman she was meeting for the date, but the fact that she was meeting Jillian Ashley was making the anxiety that much worse.
