“I don’t get you women. It takes forever. A man gets a wiggle in his nether regions and it’s straight to the bedroom. You women hem and haw, analyze and procrastinate until it’s almost not worth it.”
Helen laughed. “Bel is special to my heart and I don’t want to mess this up for a simple roll in the hay. Besides, we’re both straight, remember.”
“Yeah, and I’m the frigging Pope. Since when did that ever stop any lesbian? Most of you start out straight and then bam, one day you go off into Vagina Land never to venture forth into Penis
Land again. I got you pegged.”
“I’m just saying that in time, if it became part of our relationship, I’m all right with that.” She cut God a piece of cheesecake. She didn’t appreciate God’s eating it with her hands. “Here.”
“This is marvelous.”
“I’m glad you like it.” Helen handed her a fork.
“So you would do her?” God said with her mouth full.
“That’s rude.”
“What, me talking with my mouth full or the comment?”
“Both.”
“Who’s the puritan now?” God asked. She wiped her chin on the napkin Helen handed her.
“She’s special.” Helen knew she was blushing, but lately when she thought about Bel she had these feelings of affection that she knew were a little too powerful for just a friendship.
“I know, and it’ll all work out. You need to send those orchids.”
“I know. I just thought she might think it odd getting flowers from another woman.”
“She won’t now. Can I have another piece?” God held up her plate.
“Sure. I’ll send the flowers first thing Monday morning.”
“Good.”
After God left, Helen lay in bed replaying the evening in her head. She couldn’t help wondering if Bel was having similar thoughts. It wasn’t like she could ask her, so she kept looking for clues. It all seemed so ambiguous sometimes. And then there was the thing with God. Tonight, she had breached the ethics of her own profession. Doctors and patients weren’t supposed to fraternize and tonight they had definitely done that. She supposed it would be difficult to bring her up on charges since God was technically an omnipresent being who was not subject to the same rules as the rest of the world. Besides, it would be most difficult to prove God’s existence. Of course, that’s what she was treating God for. God felt like her identity was in jeopardy and she felt powerless to do anything about it. Even the Almighty had issues.
On Monday morning, Rafferty and Megan walked into Bel’s office to find an enormous vase full of white orchids sitting on her desk. Bel had called them in to talk about the specifics of their latest case.
“What’s this?” Rafferty asked, pointing to the orchids.
“They’re lovely,” Megan said.
“They appear to be orchids,” Bel said. She got up to pull a leather-bound volume of legal precedents from the bookshelf behind her.
“Well, no shit,” Rafferty said in an exasperated tone.
Megan smiled. She found Rafferty’s lack of decorum amusing at times.
“Rafferty,” her mother reprimanded.
“Sorry. Who sent them?”
“Someone special,” Bel replied. Megan could tell she was trying to appear nonchalant.
“And who is that?” Rafferty said, plucking the card from the lovely white flowers.
“Rafferty, no. Please don’t do that,” Bel pleaded.
Megan watched as Rafferty studied the card and then looked at her mother. “It’s private?” Rafferty said.
“Yes.”
“Well, all right. Whoever it is has money and taste. He can’t be all that bad,” Rafferty said lightly. Megan knew Rafferty was playing it cool but underneath she was freaking. They had discussed their childhoods and the lack of men in them. Rafferty had told her that she’d been a total shit when her mother started dating again after her father died and that Bel had eventually given up, except for her friendship with Harold, whom Rafferty considered harmless.
“Thank you,” Bel said. Bel took a deep breath and Megan suddenly knew who the flowers were from. She met Bel’s gaze.
“It’s all right, Bel,” Megan said. She didn’t know for certain if Bel got it that she knew the flowers were from her mother but it was kind of nice to see Bel a little bit frazzled. She was human after all.
“Okay, let’s get down to business. I need you two to go to the law library and look up body parts, specifically, the removal of body parts from the recently deceased. You’re probably going to have to go way back, but we’re looking for a precedent,” Bel said.
“Is this about the weirdo guy?” Rafferty asked.
“Rafferty, please refrain from using derogatory comments about our clients. Now, I want you two to actually go to the library. No stopping by the condo for a quickie. Got it?”
“Yes, Mother.”
Out in the hall, Megan snatched Rafferty’s hand and pulled her into the custodial storage closet. She kissed her ardently. “I need my midday fix,” Megan said, stroking Rafferty’s face.
“Ditto,” Rafferty said, kissing her again.
“I love you,” Megan whispered.
“No one could ever say those words the way you do.”
“How did she find out about us playing hooky?” Megan asked. They’d only done it a few times, and as far as she was concerned, Saturdays didn’t count.
“She’s probably got my condo bugged.”
“God, I hope not.”
“What, you don’t want my mother hearing you come into the wild blue yonder?”
“Exactly.”
Just then, Sam, the janitor, opened the door. Megan and Rafferty giggled, straightened up and left for the law library.
*
Later that evening, Helen drove her silver Honda Accord into Bel’s circular driveway. She knew this time something was different, whether it was her woman’s intuition or a few encouraging words from the big woman upstairs that had led her to this conclusion. Bel had called earlier in the day to thank her for the flowers and invite her to dinner. Helen was thrilled. She was also glad her palms were completely healed. She no longer needed the Band-Aids and only small scars remained.
“I thought we’d be totally decadent and have tenderloin medallions and lobster with a great bottle of wine and then finish off with chocolate mousse for desert,” Bel had said.
“It sounds wonderful. Can I bring anything?”
“No, just your lovely self.”
Of course Helen stopped and picked up something to bring. She decided on a box of horribly expensive Godiva chocolates. She would never splurge like that for herself but she could for Bel.
And now sitting in the driveway, Helen wondered if she and Bel would ever admit that they had feelings for each other. Would they go to that special place where they became lovers? Helen felt sure that many straight women had encountered similar epiphanies but quickly moved past them, never allowing themselves to go any further.
Helen went up to the front door and rang the bell. She was just a little nervous and hoped she wasn’t blushing. Bel smiled widely when she saw her.
“What’s this here?” Bel said, pointing to the square gold box of chocolates.
“I couldn’t come empty-handed.”
“Godiva are my favorites.” Bel led her into the kitchen where pots were boiling and everything smelled fantastic.
“You know, I’m in absolute awe of your culinary skills,” Helen said, taking a barstool at the large tiled kitchen island. Bel’s kitchen was indicative of everything else in Bel’s house—impeccable, tasteful, elegant and expensive. Helen looked around. Bel loved to cook, Helen knew, and she appeared to own every conceivable kitchen gadget, all stainless steel. The fridge and stove were also stainless steel. Helen admired the Viking six-burner stove. It smelled like chocolate coming from a double boiler that was poised on one of the six burners. A huge lobster pot was simmering on one of the back
burners. Beautifully polished copper pans hung from a large rack overhead. Bel was wearing a high-collared white silk shirt and blue and white twill apron. Helen knew she would remember every aspect of this moment. It was as if they were both frozen in time. There was a soft glow in Bel’s brown eyes.
“What?” Bel asked when she looked up to find Helen watching her. She was pouring them each a glass of red wine.
Helen smiled. “You look lovely.”
“Dr. Kohlrabi, if I didn’t know better I’d say you were flirting with me.”
“I would never dream of compromising your integrity in such a manner,” Helen said, taking the glass of Merlot that Bel offered her.
The buzzer on the oven went off and Bel turned toward the oven. She put the steaks on the broiler. She turned back around. “Were you flirting with me?” she asked, her face serious.
“If you wanted me to,” Helen replied, equally serious. She could feel her heart rate increasing dramatically.
“I would hate to ruin a wonderful friendship . . .” Bel quickly starting whisking the chocolate on the stove.
Helen was crestfallen. They weren’t going to that special place. This was as good as it got, she thought sadly.
“But I have these feelings that are a little more than just a friendship warrants, and I really don’t know what to do about them or how you would feel if I told you.”
Helen got up from the barstool and moved slowly toward Bel. Their gazes locked. Helen was afraid, but she knew it was this moment or never. She took the chance and wrapped her arms around Bel. “Tell me.” Helen could feel Bel shaking.
“I don’t know quite how to say this.”
“Would you like to take this friendship a little further?” Helen prodded.
“Yes.”
“So would I,” Helen said, as she nuzzled Bel’s neck.
The buzzer went off and the lobster pot was close to boiling over. Bel jumped as if startled from a dream. Helen kissed her forehead. “Let’s have dinner and then we’ll talk more.”
Bel nodded. Helen had never seen her look so nervous and totally vulnerable. It made her want to scoop Bel up in her arms and kiss away all her fears.
“I bought a book,” Bel said. She turned off the buzzer and readjusted the temperature of the stove.
“A book?”
“You know, in case we’re at a loss.”
“Oh, that kind of book.”
“I thought we might look at it after dinner,” Bel said shyly.
“Of course, my darling one,” Helen said, sliding her arm around Bel’s waist and kissing her cheek. Bel smiled. “See, that wasn’t so hard.”
“That was really hard,” Bel said.
Dinner was fabulous. The lobster was cooked to perfection and the tenderloin medallions melted in your mouth. Bel had prepared a chef’s salad and they had garlic bread.
Afterwards, Bel and Helen sat on the couch perusing a book of lesbian sex and erotica. Bel’s head was cocked to one side.
“I don’t think that’s humanly possible,” Helen said, puzzled by the line drawing they were studying.
“Only by a practiced contortionist.”
“Bel?”
“Yes,” Bel said, still studying the diagram.
“Maybe I could just kiss you and we could see where that takes us,” Helen suggested.
“Skip the academics?”
“Precisely.” Helen closed the book.
“All right,” Bel said. She looked scared.
Helen took Bel’s face in her hands and kissed Bel’s forehead, then her closed eyes. She slowly kissed Bel’s mouth. Their tongues touched and Bel moaned softly. Helen backed away. “How was that?”
“I’m not sure. Let’s try it again,” Bel said coyly.
“Bel!”
“I just want to be certain.”
They kissed slow and long. Helen watched as the color rose in Bel’s face. She kissed her neck and traced the outline of Bel’s collarbone with her fingertip, then she unbuttoned the front of her shirt and reached for her breasts. This was fast but Helen couldn’t help herself. Now that they’d gone here she had no intention of stopping. She cupped her hand around Bel’s smooth breast. At this moment, she completely understood why men thought about sex constantly. All she wanted was Bel. She pulled off Bel’s shirt and gently ran her index finger around Bel’s nipple. Bel quivered.
“Are you okay?” Helen asked.
“Yes,” Bel whispered in a throaty tone.
Helen pulled Bel on top of her. The wide leather couch made a near perfect twin bed. Helen could feel the heat between them as she kissed Bel.
Helen whispered, “I want to feel you.”
Bel reached down and undid Helen’s pants while Helen did the same to her. She ran her hand along Bel’s butt and pulled her in closer. Helen could feel Bel’s wetness and she moaned softly as Helen put her finger inside her.
“Oh, Bel.” She reached for her and together they rocked against each other until Helen felt Bel come. She released moments later.
“I think we know what to do,” Helen said, smiling up at Bel.
Bel laughed. They were lying in a tangle of clothes and the couch pillows lay scattered on the floor. “Wow,” Bel said, rolling on her side.
“I hope you don’t think I’m fast now,” Helen said.
“No, but I would like to take you upstairs and treat you proper,” Bel said. They stood up from the couch.
“You mean with all our clothes off beneath silk sheets.”
“Precisely. How did you know I have silk sheets?”
“A woman like you has them.”
Bel took Helen’s hand and led her upstairs to the bedroom. She had a massive candelabra on her dresser. She lit the candles.
Helen sat down on the edge of the four-poster bed, which did have burgundy sheets. She took off the rest of her clothes and then she helped Bel do the same. “You have a lovely body.” Helen ran her hand down Bel’s flat stomach.
Bel eased her down on the bed and kissed her breasts. She kissed her stomach and kissed between Helen’s legs. Helen felt Bel’s tongue slide between inner lips and she moaned softly. When she felt Bel’s tongue on her clitoris, her breathing grew ragged. Then Bel turned her on her stomach and took her from behind. Helen ground against her and reached for Bel who positioned herself so Helen could be inside her. They both came within seconds of each other.
“My God, Bel, I think you’ve studied that book more than you let on,” Helen said. She unfurled her hand from the sheet. Bel still lay across her back.
“I wanted to please you.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt like that before.”
Bel laughed. “You and me both. You know, for the first time in my life, I think I understand where Rafferty is coming from.”
Chapter Ten
On Tuesday morning Megan met Rafferty in the conference room. They were waiting for Bel to give her an update on the new case involving the display of body parts. Megan frowned at the thin layer of dust that covered the dark cherry-wood table. Sam should have cleaned it. She grabbed a paper towel from the restroom and wiped it off while Rafferty sat in one of the executive swivel chairs and stared out the window.
“What is going on around here?” Megan asked. Rafferty had been distracted all morning. It appeared she was obsessed with Bel’s secret lover. Megan had tried to get her to talk about her feelings but Rafferty would have none of it, so Megan had let it go.
“What do you mean?” Rafferty said, swiveling back around.
“You went to get coffee and then didn’t get any. Sam is upset because Bel came down on him and he still isn’t cleaning the place, and now you’re in some weird kind of funk. I can tell,” Megan said, putting her hands on her hips.
Rafferty shrugged.
Megan spied Sam go by in the hallway. “Hey, Sam, can I have a word?”
“Sure, what’s up?” Sam said, pulling a rag from his back pocket.
Megan smiled. “Is the
rag for looks or are you actually going to do some work with it?”
“Excuse me?” Sam said.
“Look at this place,” Megan said, pointing to the swipe on the conference table where she had attempted to clean.
“Who did that? They didn’t do a very good job.”
Bel came around the corner and entered the room.
“I did. It’s filthy in here, Sam. See, the deal is, we’re lawyers and we do, you know, law things, and you’re Sam, our beloved cleaning guy. So the law people would like to sit at a clean table that Sam, the cleaning guy, was supposed to have cleaned,” Megan said.
“Right,” Sam said. He took his rag and thoroughly dusted the table, studiously avoiding Bel’s gaze although she wasn’t paying the least bit of attention, Megan noticed.
“I brought your coffee. You forgot it,” Bel said, setting the cup in front of Rafferty.
“Thanks,” she said sullenly.
Megan waited until Sam was through and then she shut the door behind him. “All right, now that that’s settled, perhaps we can get some work done.” She turned around to find both Bel and Rafferty staring out the window. “What the hell is going on here?” Megan said, frustrated.
Bel and Rafferty both swiveled around to stare at her blankly.
“The Mackowski file, the guy who keeps all his dead wife’s organs in the front window of his house, that guy, the one the homeowners’ association is threatening to sue for some big bucks if we can’t convince the nut job to change his ways,” Megan huffed. The homeowners’ association was a long-term client of theirs.
“I think that’s pretty evident,” Rafferty said. “He’s not exactly running a natural history museum.”
“We’re going to need more than anecdotal evidence from his lawyer that keeping the various organs his wife had removed over the years due to cancer is normal behavior,” Megan replied.
“Perhaps we could have Helen talk to him about expressions of grief, appropriate expressions of grief. People do odd things when they’re grieving,” Bel suggested.
Megan liked the idea but wondered about the ethics of it. “What about conflict of interest? She is my mother.”
Talk of the Town Too Page 13
