Reunion

by Jane Frances

  Lisa decided to concentrate harder on the conversation, appalled at herself for even entertaining the thought of physical contact with someone who was with someone else. She focused on what Cathy was saying, which unfortunately meant she had to focus on Cathy. Nowhere seemed safe. She looked at her eyes but felt she would fall into their dark brown depths, never to be retrieved. She tried watching her mouth, but that, for obvious reasons, was even more dangerous. She stared for a while at the point just above her eyes, but that was also a bad idea, Cathy soon scratching her forehead and asking if she had something odd stuck there. Lisa lowered her gaze to Cathy’s neck. But the T-shirt had done what its designer intended—it made the eyes follow all the way down the plunging neckline. Lisa nearly choked on her fish, her memory providing visuals of exactly what lay underneath the material.

  Things were getting desperate. She had to do something to stop from launching herself across the table.

  An idea struck. Bring up the girlfriend. Nothing had been said of partners, either past or present, throughout the whole date . . . meeting . . . whatever it was. Maybe it was time to do so. After all, talk of the girlfriend would be the psychological equivalent of having a cold shower.

  “So, what does Toni think of the new-look offices?”

  Cathy placed her fork quietly on her plate. “I don’t know. She hasn’t seen them.”

  “Oh.” Lisa’s head spun. Why on earth not? For all she’d known, Cathy and Toni spent the whole of yesterday putting the offices back together, even completing the restacking of bookshelves this very morning. That’s what Cathy said she’d been doing anyhow. “I thought she’d been helping you with the computers and stuff.”

  “No Lisa. Toni and I have . . . parted company.”

  “Oh.” Lisa said again, now totally unable to look at Cathy for fear her expression would convey her thoughts. The ones that were already mentally sifting through the dating possibilities. Lisa studied the remains of her meal. Just a bit of salad remained. She toyed with it, rolling a cherry tomato around the plate with her fork. As she did so, Lisa’s mind was playing a scene of her walking along a beach with Cathy (in much better weather of course), Lisa surprising her with her favorite flowers, taking her to her favorite restaurant, sitting next to her in a theater. A movie, a concert, a play, it didn’t matter. They’d court for a while, Cathy would realize Lisa was in fact the woman for her and then . . . the cherry tomato came to a stop, braked by her fork. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Yes, well,” From the corner of Lisa’s eye she saw Cathy shift in her seat. “I had a couple of issues I needed to sort out.”

  “Oh.” Lisa repeated for the third time. She rolled her tomato around again, but stopped, memories of her parents saying “don’t play with your food” echoing through her mind. Unable to stop fidgeting, Lisa soon began poking with her cutlery once more, dipping and prodding with her fork until the tomato lay on its upturned prongs. She lifted her head to glance quickly at Cathy, knowing she shouldn’t ask, shouldn’t pry. She lowered her gaze to her plate again. Such a fine looking tomato, all ripe and red. “What issues?”

  “Well.” Cathy took a quick sip of her wine. “There’s the fact that I still love you.”

  It was just as well Lisa hadn’t a mouthful of wine, it would have blown all across the table. As it was there was a sudden crash of cutlery against crockery as Lisa shot a shocked look in Cathy’s direction, at the same time her arms coming down hard against the tabletop. Her mouth opened although no words would come out. But her heart was doing happy little flip-flops. She loves me. She loves me! SHE LOVES ME!

  “Umm, Lisa?”

  Still dumbstruck, Lisa just stared gape-jawed at Cathy. Then it occurred Cathy was trying to tell her something. She turned her head in the direction of Cathy’s nod.

  “I don’t think this belongs to me.” The middle-aged man sitting at the table diagonally opposite them held out his glass of wine. There was a cherry tomato bobbing in it. Lisa took a quick look at her plate. Sure enough, her tomato was gone.

  Crimson, she turned back to the man. “That’s okay. You can have it if you like.”

  A matter of minutes later he had been furnished with not just a glass, but a new bottle of wine. The replacement had been courtesy of Cathy; she called a waiter over even before Lisa had time to absorb the fact she had launched a tomato torpedo with her fork. Mortified, Lisa just wanted to slide under the table and hide. But she couldn’t. Cathy was watching her expectantly. Her initial amusement at Lisa’s vegetable toss had long dissipated. Now she just looked worried.

  Lisa knew she had to say something. If she were in Cathy’s position, she’d be dying by now. What could she say? How could she express what she had been feeling since the night Cathy dropped back into her life? The yearning, the craving, the highs and lows, the desire just to see Cathy, be near Cathy, hear her voice, bask in her smile. The petty jealousies, the emptiness when Cathy left a room or hung up from a call, the euphoria when she arrived or was on the end of a phone line. All could be explained to Cathy in detail later. But for now it could be summed up in the same few words Cathy had just spoken. Lisa reached across the table and took hold of Cathy’s hands.

  “I love you too, Cathy.”

  Lisa saw Cathy’s expression morph from worry to elation. She smiled softly and Lisa smiled back, warmth spreading as Cathy’s thumbs stroked hers. They both leaned forward, Lisa blissfully aware they were going to kiss. But she was also acutely aware they were being watched.

  Lisa glanced back to the table diagonally opposite. As suspected, Mr. Tomato Head was regarding her, and Cathy, with renewed interest. Jeez, what did he want—her to toss him a whole salad?

  Not wishing an audience, she turned back to Cathy. “Do you think we could go now?”

  Cathy nodded and they scraped their chairs away from the table. Lisa, having no jacket to retrieve, beat Cathy to the bill, plucking it from its holder and rushing to the counter. The total, especially with the added bottle of wine, meant no extra would be going onto the mortgage this month, but too bad, it was worth it.

  They argued over it all the way outside.

  “You can get the next one, okay?” Cold wind hit Lisa with a blast, despite the portico they stood under being on the street side of the building. Thankfully, it was not yet raining.

  “Okay.” Cathy gazed out past the portico, glancing up to the sky. “Let’s make a run for it.”

  They reached Lisa’s vehicle first. Lisa could see Cathy’s car not ten bays down from her own. She also saw the sheet of rain fast coming in off the ocean. It would reach them within seconds. Lisa twisted the lock on the passenger door and ushered Cathy inside.

  “Shove over,” she instructed, climbing in after Cathy. The door was hardly closed before the front hit. Heavy drops thundered on the metal roof, echoing loudly in the cabin.

  “Just made it,” Lisa said, grinning. “A few more seconds and we’d have been soaked.”

  Cathy shifted slightly, her lips giving just the merest hint of a smile. Her expression conveyed an unspoken too late.

  Lisa hardly dared to look at Cathy as she tugged at the neck of her jumper. The air in the cabin all of a sudden seemed very close, humid and steamy. Lisa also shifted in her seat, her thigh lightly brushing against Cathy’s.

  That slight touch was enough to unravel the both of them.

  The look they exchanged was brief, but charged. Cathy hurled herself at Lisa. Lisa hurled herself at Cathy. Neither was at all gentle, their kisses fierce and their hands grasping, clutching desperately at material that got in the way of skin.

  “Oh God, Cathy—” Lisa pressed her palm against Cathy’s groin and her head swam at the heat that met her hand, radiating through the denim.

  “Lie down.” A sure hand guided Lisa downward until her head rested on the bench seat. At the same a time a knee parted Lisa’s thighs so she had no choice but to rest one foot on the floor, one on the seat. Cathy lay half over her, her other l
eg jostling for position with Lisa’s in the cramped space under the steering wheel.

  Lisa groaned as the knee between her thighs slid higher. She could feel her own heat, it trapped by the double layer of denim that separated her skin from Cathy’s. As if parting her legs further would suddenly make the offending material disappear, Lisa lifted her foot off the floor. It found the dashboard, coming to rest on the top of the steering wheel. Cathy’s knee was insistent; it grazed over Lisa, was momentarily gone, grazed again. Lisa arched into Cathy, the point between her legs throbbing in her need. She drew Cathy down to greet her lips, kisses gaining urgency in time with the increasing rhythm and tempo of her hips. One coherent thought managed to break through the red-hot haze that had overtaken Lisa’s mind. Thank goodness for bench seats and column gearshifts. However, that ridiculous thought emerged prematurely. Maybe Cathy’s foot slipped on the mat under the steering wheel, maybe the hand she had squeezed between the seat and Lisa’s shoulder got a cramp. Whatever happened, Cathy’s knee suddenly pressed hard against its target. Both Lisa’s legs jerked in response, the foot she still had perched on the steering wheel lifted and fell, hitting the horn. Its sounding gave Lisa such a fright she slammed her head against the door handle of the passenger door. She let out another groan, this time a pained “Oof!”

  The shock of the blow brought Lisa’s undulating hips to a halt and took her hands to her head. As suddenly as the activity in the vehicle ceased, so too did the downpour. The silence was so abrupt it was deafening.

  “Lisa,” Cathy half sat up, reached for Lisa’s head and gingerly fingered the point of contact. “Are you all right?”

  Lisa blinked, her head still zinging. “Who are you?”

  As Lisa continued to stare blankly, Cathy’s eyes opened wide. Lisa eventually grinned, unable to keep a straight face in light of the distressed look she was receiving. “Gotcha.”

  “Bitch.” Cathy laughed along with Lisa, gently stroking her hair and deftly avoiding putting any pressure on the sore spot. Lisa found the touch first soothing, then arousing. It took but moments before the pain of the blow was forgotten and her body again arched and stretched toward Cathy. Cathy met Lisa’s mouth, only much more tenderly than before. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “What’s wrong with here?” Now Lisa had Cathy in her arms she wasn’t about to let her go. And the knee still held so close to her groin was slowly driving her mad. Lisa wrapped her arms around Cathy, drawing her closer. Cathy’s breath came in soft puffs, warm over her lips, then moist over her skin as she trailed a series of kisses over Lisa’s neck and throat. Lisa groped for the edge of Cathy’s T-shirt, desperate to feel Cathy naked in her hands. “Sweet God Cathy, I want you.”

  The moment Lisa’s hands slid under Cathy’s T-shirt to circle the firm flesh of her waist, Cathy’s soft puffs escalated to a pant. Then suddenly, the warm breath and kisses were gone. Cathy lifted herself into a half-sitting position, eyes alight with desire, but also shining with the determination Lisa had long ago become so familiar with. “I want you too Lisa. But not here.”

  “Where then?” Right here and right now seemed the only viable option. Lisa switched her attention from Cathy’s eyes to her lips. She wanted to kiss them again.

  “How about my place?”

  After a short silence Lisa nodded, reluctantly admitting the possibilities offered by a bed far outweighed the immediacy offered by the bench seat of her utility. Plus, she also admitted as she realized she could not see out of the windscreen, once home they could fog up the windows all they liked without running the risk of getting arrested. “Okay.”

  Lisa pushed open the passenger door and half hung out of it as Cathy climbed over her. Still lying on her back, Lisa held out her hand. “I’m going to miss you on the long, lonely drive.”

  Cathy laughed as she accepted Lisa’s hand, kissing the palm. “I’ll see you in about ten minutes.” She tipped her head to one side, her eyes questioning, and asked, “Do you remember where my place is?”

  Lisa gave a disparaging look. Of course she remembered. Cathy’s address, like every other detail about her, was tattooed into her memory. Cathy, interpreting Lisa’s look as a yes, gave Lisa back her hand and hurried to her car. Lisa sat up, slammed the passenger door closed and shunted over to the driver’s side, turning the key in the ignition. In an effort to clear the fog from the windows she turned the air conditioning on full blast.

  Once there was some semblance of visibility through the glass, Lisa slid the column shift into reverse. She checked her rearview mirror and slung her arm over the back of the bench seat, easing off the clutch as she pulled out of the bay. Her peripheral vision caught the dark blue BMW as it turned out of the parking lot. Lisa shivered and her heart fluttered. Ten whole minutes before seeing Cathy again. It seemed an eternity.

  Lisa had no idea if it took more or less than ten minutes to get to Cathy’s home. As her indicator flashed her intention to turn into Cathy’s driveway she was suddenly aware she had no notion of how she had gotten there. She certainly didn’t recall the drive.

  What she did recall were her thoughts as she unwittingly guided her vehicle along the wet and no doubt slippery roads. Her thoughts, as so often in the past weeks, had been centered on Cathy. However, where her thoughts of the past weeks were subject to a degree of censorship, self-preservation demanding she close her mind to recollections of the physical, now the change in circumstance allowed her thoughts to flow unchecked. And as soon as the first thought seeped through, it seemed it opened a floodgate.

  Memory took Lisa back to those first days, to the first time, when Cathy caught her in the shower. Back then, Lisa was as green as they came, but somehow she knew what to do, needing no map to guide her through the uncharted territory. Making love with Cathy was so easy, and felt so right. Yes of course they needed clues from the other, they guided with a touch here, a word there. And they backed it all up with practice, and lots of it.

  There was no doubt their physical connection had been incredible. It stretched beyond those first halcyon weeks that lovers throughout history have experienced. The weeks where they were both literally unable to keep their hands off each other, rushing to Cathy’s place in between classes, barely making it through the front door before shedding the clothes that suddenly seemed such a hindrance. They were the days where sometimes class was missed altogether, where the company of others was shunned, and time spent apart was a torture. And, as with lovers throughout history, they survived the shift that inevitably has to occur, returning to day-to-day life and its responsibilities.

  Not that the return to the day-to-day signaled a plateau in their sex life. If anything, as they become more familiar with each other, more attuned to each other’s needs and desires, it seemed their lovemaking moved to a whole new level.

  For that’s what it was. Lovemaking. It had never been just sex with Cathy. It was the love between them that made it so good. When they were both driven almost wild by their passion for each other, it was love that tempered their touch so the line between pleasure and pain was not crossed. When the tempo was slow and more measured, it was love that had sometimes seen one or the other, or both, so overwhelmed they were reduced to tears.

  It remained that way between them almost until the end. Almost until the end they shared a level of intimacy that, had Lisa known at the time was such a rare and precious commodity, she may have taken more care to nurture and embrace it.

  Feeling again the surge of regret for her carelessness all those years ago, Lisa wiped her mind clear of the past. The past was gone and she could do nothing to alter it. All she could do was make the most of the present. Another surge, this time not even closely related to regret, coursed through Lisa as she realized the present was taking her to Cathy’s arms.

  As expected, when Lisa completed the turn into Cathy’s driveway, the front gate was open, as was the garage door. Lisa drove straight in, parking her Ute next to Cathy’s BMW, at the same time thinking ho
w well the two vehicles sat together, a pleasing juxtaposition. Cathy was waiting for her, the door to her home already open.

  Lisa rounded Cathy’s car, noting as she went that the front gate was closing. The garage door also began its descent.

  “Am I locked in now?” Lisa asked as they entered the stairwell.

  Cathy closed the door behind her. “Afraid so.”

  Good, Lisa thought. They held hands as they ascended the stairs.

  “Would you like a drink or something?” Cathy asked as they approached the first landing.

  Lisa changed her grip so their fingers interlocked. “No thanks.”

  They reached the first landing. Cathy nodded to the living area. “Would you like to watch TV, play cards, listen to music?”

  Cathy’s hand was clasped a little tighter. Lisa wasn’t fooled for one moment she was here to play Snap. “Not really.”

  They started up the next set of stairs to the top level. “Well, would you like me to show you the best view in the street?”

  Lisa felt Cathy’s hand pulsing against hers, first loosening, then tightening her hold. The action was so overtly sexual Lisa heard her own voice husky with want. “Where’s that?”

  They stopped at the second landing. “From my bedroom window.”

  Lisa’s lips twitched at the thinly veiled pretense. Their slow climb up the two flights of stairs had almost driven her to distraction. She wanted to run the length of the hallway and throw herself onto the bed, but instead she gripped more tightly to Cathy’s hand, using it as her anchor. She smiled and nodded although her voice again gave her away. This time it broke. “Okay.”

  On the journey from the bedroom door to the window Lisa vaguely noticed her surrounds. More of a suite than a bedroom, the room was huge. A gaping archway opened to a bathroom decked from floor to ceiling in sandstone colored tiles. The details Lisa missed, but she was sure she spied a raised spa in there. The next door was closed, and due to the lack of a conventional wardrobe, Lisa assumed it was a walk-in. To one side of the heavy, full-length drapes was a sitting area with a couple of single armchairs and a low coffee table. A king-sized bed dominated the far wall, but even that didn’t appear oversized given the dimensions of the room. Lisa was acutely aware of this last piece of furniture as Cathy played out her charade to the end, drawing aside the drapes with a flourish.