“I know.” Valerie sighed and leaned against Doreen.
“I’m so proud of you, but now please come and eat and take a little time for yourself—and for me.”
Before they had met in their late 20s, both had had their fair share of sexual encounters and brief affairs. Both knew what they liked and needed in a partner and in sexual play. Their relationship had been balanced from the beginning, which was in part what had made it so special to both of them.
“Oh, Doreen,” Valerie sighed. A tear ran down her cheek, and she brushed it away. “Why did you have to get sick?”
Had it been too perfect? Was that why Doreen had been taken from her? She pushed away that thought. It made no sense. Like any couple, they weren’t perfect. But their love had just been bigger than all of that.
Val sometimes wondered if she would ever have another lover. She wasn’t avoiding that idea. She just felt there would never be another Doreen. That kind of love came once in a lifetime.
The previous year Doreen had told her, “You’re too young to live the rest of your life alone. I hope you find someone eventually, someone who will be good for you. I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life pining away for me. It’s been wonderful, but you have to let me go.”
Even in her illness, which had taken a toll on both of them, Doreen had been unselfish. That, too, often made Valerie cry when she remembered.
Suddenly she noticed that Sam’s head was resting on her knee. The dog’s eyes were beseeching. How long had she been sitting there, Val suddenly wondered, lost in memories, old feelings and losses?
“Okay, Samantha,” Valerie said, stroking the dog’s head. “I know. I’m not really alone. You’ve been here for me since I found you. And you’re right here now. I guess I should pay more attention, shouldn’t I? I’ve been thinking that you are going to become Gina’s dog instead of mine. But I would deserve it, when I get into these moods and forget about you. You need loving, too.” She hugged Sam and Sam gave her a big sloppy kiss on the cheek.
Val then noticed a burr in Sam’s heavy coat. “You look like you need brushing,” she said to the dog. Walking over to a cabinet where she kept Sam’s things, she selected a slicker brush and comb. She sat back down, pulling Sam to her. The dog was very patient with the brushing, which had to be done nearly every day. Val carefully ran the brush over Sam’s back, legs, and tail, removing loose fur and tangles. Finally the retriever rolled over on the rug so that Val could work on her tummy. “You’re such a silly dog,” Val said, smiling to herself. “You just love this, don’t you?” Sam’s tongue hung out of her mouth, and she looked deliriously happy.
When Val finished the brushing, she took the comb and cleaned out the slicker brush, putting the fuzzy pile of fur into the wastebasket. She gave Sam a final pat, and the dog licked her hand and then curled up on a nearby rug.
Val picked up her book again, but her thoughts wandered. This time to Gina. Now Gina, that was another one. She liked her. If she was honest with herself, she really liked her. Gina was a good person and Val found her physically attractive. At the same time she was like a little chicklet—and a chicklet with problems. She was so self-protective, cautious around people, and obviously fragile. Those were all red flags, although Val had to give her credit—Gina was paying her bills, being responsible, not causing trouble around the house, and generally being a good roomer. She had goals, and she seemed to be steadily working toward them. She also had a basically positive attitude, despite the problems she had encountered. And she was opening up, sharing her past, her personal pain. Valerie felt good that she had gotten Gina to trust her enough to do that.
Val really wanted to be supportive of Gina. At the same time, she had decided that she would not become emotionally—let alone sexually—involved with her. It would be so easy to pursue Gina. Val was lonely and Gina was not in a relationship. She was young and—Valerie had to admit—good looking in a tall, stringy sort of way with those goofy glasses sliding down her nose all the time and the floppy ponytail. Gina did have a kind of casual charm. But how could they ever be equals in a relationship? Surely they’d always be mother-daughter on some level, and that wouldn’t be healthy. Too many lesbian relationships were symbiotic, like mother and child, and filled with neurotic—even destructive—elements. No, involvement with Gina was to be avoided at all costs she told herself as she returned to her book.
Chapter Six
After her eye-opening conversation with Rick at the theater Gina’s life changed in very positive ways. She learned that the Purple Priscilla, a relatively new business in Arcata, had been named after the popular cult film, Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. She had never heard of, let alone seen, this film but was lucky to find a copy at a local video store. Intrigued, she brought the DVD home and slipped the disc into her computer. Within moments of the start of the movie she felt an emotional lift. The picture’s enthusiastic attitude about being gay, along with its spirited music, mesmerized her.
Gina had finished watching the movie just in time to go to work at Ritchie’s, but that night she watched it again. The film even invaded her sleep, and she watched it three more times before returning the DVD. As the film played on her computer the last time, Gina stood up and danced around the bedroom floor until she began to sweat and felt lightheaded. She had to sit down on the bed for a moment and wondered how she could have missed so much for so long. In Tucson she must have been walking around in a fog. More and more Gina sensed how narrow her life had been from her rural childhood, to school, therapy, and then work. She had obviously been missing a lot in life. Like a lot of fun.
The next weekend she went with Rick and two of his friends, Eric Watkins and Paul Kaufman, to this mysterious Purple Priscilla tucked away in an old warehouse near the Humboldt State campus.
The foursome sat together at a small table, and Gina put her hand on Rick’s arm. “Thank you so much for telling me about Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. I’ve got all this music in my head now, and when I go to work I keep replaying it. The time just flies by, and I feel so much energy.”
Rick grinned. “Glad I could share.” He nodded toward the dance floor, where several couples, men and women, were gyrating to a tune spun by a disc jockey. “Now you’ll have to use all that energy here on the dance floor.”
Gina grimaced and then forced herself to relax into a hesitant smile. She wasn’t sure that she was quite ready yet to—what? Let it all hang out, she guessed.
Rick and his friends were considerate of her inexperience in all things gay. They introduced her to friends—including a couple of women who seemed pleasant, positive, and open about their lifestyles. The young men told her about more music and films that could help her feel less like an outsider. Eric and Paul were a colorful duo, both in dress and behavior, and Gina couldn’t quite figure them out. Yet she did enjoy their company.
As they all talked, she could feel some previously unrecognized weight inside her lifting. She certainly hadn’t realized just how uptight she had been. The future was beginning to appear more hopeful.
Amid this new enlightenment she found that she could look forward to Saturday evenings at the multiplex—not just for the job, but as a place where she could meet her own kind. Rick would signal her when someone came into the theater that he recognized as gay or lesbian. Her own “gaydar” began to develop.
Rick was tall, what they would have called a “string bean” back home in Illinois, with curly red hair. He could be silly and a tease. And now that she understood him better, he made her laugh. She hadn’t known how much she needed to laugh. Everything had always been so serious in her life, especially since her emotional breakdown. Laughing, she now began to realize, helped her heal inside. She recognized that Rick wasn’t threatening to her. They were becoming buddies, and that was all.
When no one was around Rick would call out, “Hey, Doc, coming to the club tonight?” She had admitted to him that she had a Ph.D. and had had emotional problems, but he
didn’t care. “That’s heavy, girlfriend,” he had said when she told him about her experiences in Tucson, but he hugged her and gave her a big kiss on the cheek. Being gay, he told her, exposed him to all kinds of stories. Gina’s tale wasn’t even particularly unusual to him, and he admitted as much. He was still empathetic and encouraging.
Gina liked laughing at his theatricality, which was a big part of his personality. He kept it down in front of straight people, but when the two cleaned auditoriums together, now that they were open with each other, he let himself go. He swished and talked with a lisp, and Gina laughed and truly enjoyed his antics.
On a Sunday morning Valerie awoke to sounds and smells coming up the stairway from the kitchen. She was taken by surprise. The house was usually very quiet at this time of day. She looked over the edge of her bed for Sam, but the dog was gone.
Curious, Val struggled to her feet, grabbed her robe, and virtually sailed down the two flights of stairs.
Gina stood by the kitchen stove, Sam at her feet watching her every move. She had the teakettle simmering. The oven was hot and the aroma of baked goods strong.
“Hi!” Gina greeted Val with a smile. “Did I wake you? I was hoping for a complete surprise, but it’s hard to whip up breakfast without making at least a little noise.”
“This smells wonderful,” Valerie admitted. “I love waking up to breakfast cooking.”
“How about scrambled eggs with ham?” Gina asked. “I’ve got blueberry muffins in the oven. They’re almost ready.”
“Perfect.” Valerie was amazed. Since she had moved to Eureka, no one had cooked for her. Actually no one had since Doreen became ill. Val waited a moment for some kind of emotional downer to hit after she thought of Doreen, but nothing happened. She remained in the moment, delighted with the promise of a beautiful breakfast.
“I’m fixing hot tea but I’ll make you coffee if you’d prefer.”
“Tea is fine.”
Gina poured her a cup of Earl Gray and motioned her to take it into the dining room. The newspaper was sitting beside Valerie’s customary place at the table. Impressed, Val sat down and allowed herself to savor the steaming tea.
In a moment Gina came out of the kitchen, first with her own tea, then with plates of eggs and muffins.
“Wow,” Valerie said, “this is stupendous.”
As soon as Gina sat down, Valerie took a bite of the eggs and found them delicious. “You are a very good cook,” she said, a hint of surprise in her voice. “Did you learn this from your mom?”
Gina laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I guess so. You can’t survive in a farm family without knowing something about cooking. Farmers are big eaters.”
After taking a bite of the muffin and stowing away most of her eggs, Valerie asked, “Is this a special occasion?”
“Not really. I just woke up feeling hungry for home cooking. I haven’t seen anyone have a really big breakfast since I’ve been here. I’ve been kind of living on muffins and bagels and stuff like that. Sundays were always special where I grew up, and I was just hungry for that. I hope you don’t mind that I had to use some of your supplies,” Gina apologized.
“No problem,” Valerie replied, with obvious amusement. “Eggs this good are to die for. I can forgive you anything, for this!”
The two women enjoyed the meal for a little while in silence. Sam waited patiently, hoping.
Finally, after swallowing the last bite of her muffin, Valerie observed, “I’m surprised to see you up so early this morning. You usually sleep in after the theater and the late hours.”
“True, but this morning I just couldn’t stay in bed. I guess I’m feeling good—things are going better for me.”
“That’s good. I’m really glad for you.”
“I’ve made these friends at the theater—Rick Hendricks, who’s gay, and some of his buddies. They’ve taken me to the Purple Priscilla a few times. I just feel more relaxed now. I’m so glad to be able to have a good time.”
Valerie looked at her thoughtfully. “I’ve heard of this Purple Priscilla. It’s mostly a men’s bar, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Well, yes, but women do go there. I’ve met several women. I’ve even danced with a few and it’s been fun,” Gina said.
“Anybody special?” Valerie probed.
Gina blushed. “No, I’m not ready for that yet. Just fun, you know, with a group. Like your group—like Josie, Lanie, and Judee.
“You should come sometime,” she added.
Valerie considered that idea as she continued eating her eggs. “Maybe. Sometime.” She focused on her plate quietly and conversation again came to a halt.
After a moment or two, Gina looked at her watch and abruptly stood up. “Glad you liked the breakfast,” she said. “I’ve got to go to the theater early today for the matinee shift, so I need to shower and get dressed.”
“I’ll clean up the dishes,” Valerie offered. “It’s the least I can do after such a wonderful meal.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that. Glad you didn’t mind my using your kitchen. See you later.” Gina disappeared up the stairs. Sam looked after her and then back at Valerie and decided to stay put at her feet. In reward for this show of loyalty, Valerie passed the retriever the small morsel of scrambled egg still on her plate. Val then glanced through the Sunday Times-Standard, got up and put out a bowl of food for Sam, gathered up the dishes, and took them into the kitchen.
As she cleaned off the plates and slipped them into hot soapy water she thought about this unexpected treat. She remembered how she and Doreen used to fix breakfast for each other, but her mind quickly returned to Gina and the changes in her lately. Gina was opening up. Becoming less reserved and intense. Even though, in making the breakfast, Gina had crossed one of the boundaries of their landlady-tenant relationship, she had not done so in a negative, dependent way. Debra would have made herself a plate of food, left the dishes all over the kitchen and gone into the living room to turn on the television, loudly of course, to entertain herself. Gina had fixed breakfast to share with, and to surprise, Valerie. Her actions were far more adult and more considerate. Instead of feeling threatened and as if her kitchen were being taken over, Valerie discovered that she felt liked and respected—even nurtured—by Gina. It was a good feeling, and she allowed herself a moment to enjoy it.
Valerie had never wanted to be a parent. That this decision had been a wise one for her was reinforced by an unforeseen visit from her brother Daniel, his wife Susan, and their two bratty—Val’s definition—children.
Val had been an only child for eight years when her parents had found out, quite by surprise, that they were expecting another child, a boy. Not surprisingly, this late-life arrival had upset the family dynamics. Daniel was the light of his father’s eye and both parents spoiled him to no end. Valerie had resented him from day one, and he had lorded it over her as soon as he could toddle around.
Because of the difference in their ages, they operated in totally separate worlds. Val was in high school while Daniel was still in the elementary grades. She did her best to pretend he didn’t exist and managed to succeed, except when she was asked to babysit.
Once Valerie went on to college and began her own adult life, she rarely saw Daniel. But every so often he would show up on her doorstep.
This time he and Susan were taking the kids to Seattle for a family vacation, complete with riding at least one ferry, seeing the aquarium, and visiting the Space Needle. Daniel had asked by phone, since they were driving the coastal route, if they could stop in Eureka for a couple of nights and stay at her house. Biting her tongue, she had agreed.
She put Daniel and Susan up in the second bedroom across from Gina. Val made a camp for the kids, Petey and Mariah, by putting up a tent in the living room, furnished with two sleeping bags.
It was panedemonium from the moment they came in the door. Petey and Mariah started running up and down the stairs, whooping and hollering. Their own house was on
one level and having stairs was a big thrill. Soon Samantha was following them up and down as well, barking all the way in each direction.
Daniel must be 43 by now, Valerie surmised, and Susan was probably 37 or 38. They had had their children relatively late in their own lives, and as a consequence, Val felt that they should have been mature adults able to manage their kids, but obviously that was not the case. She had to admit to herself that children today were a lot more boisterous than they had been when she was little, but knowing that sociological fact didn’t make the noise any easier to take.
After the household finally settled down for the first night, Val tossed and turned in her bed. Why had she said yes to them? They must have money or they couldn’t do this trip. Why did she have to put up with them? She knew she was being uncharitable and not very sisterly, but she did like her quiet. She had liked being an only child and she liked her peaceful life the way it was now, with little or no disruption. She wondered if this was the onset of menopause or if she had always been that way. Or did these feelings of annoyance stem from the depression she still felt over Doreen’s death? Susan was a pretty good conversationalist and the kids could be cute, if she’d allow herself to see it.
She was still mulling this over in the kitchen the next morning while fixing breakfast for the brood. The kids were watching TV in the living room and their parents were getting dressed upstairs. It had been planned that they would go sightseeing in the local area for most of the day. Val couldn’t wait for them to leave the house.
Gina came into the kitchen, already dressed, to get her muffins and juice from the refrigerator. Val almost jumped as she caught movement out of the corner of her eye.
Recovering, she asked, “Did you get some sleep last night?”
Gina smiled. “I’m fine.”
“Wish I could say the same,” Val grumbled.
“Guess this isn’t a good day to ask to use your toaster for my muffins,” Gina commented. Her mouth was turned up in a slightly evil grin.
North Coast: A Contemporary Love Story Page 10
