Val waved a spatula at her. “You are no help!” Then she relented. “Go ahead, use the toaster. And then get out of here.”
“Okay, boss.” Gina spoke lightly and did as she was told.
Val stared out the window after Gina had disappeared up the stairs. She had to get a grip. She would get through today, and tomorrow they’d be gone. She’d get back to her painting, and her nerves would settle down.
The phone rang. It was Lanie. “What are you up to, girl? I haven’t heard from you in days!”
Valerie chuckled. “Not much. I’m just sitting here with the morning paper, feeling very full and satisfied. Guess what? Gina fixed breakfast the other morning and again today. She’s a very good cook!”
“Mmmm,” noted Lanie. “That sounds intimate. Is something I don’t know about going on over there?”
Amused, Valerie shook her head. “No, Lanie. If there were, you’d be the first to know. And there isn’t. Gina was just up early and feeling good and she decided to fix breakfast for us. My brother and his family have been here the last few days, and with all the noise and door-banging, my nerves are shot. Gina hasn’t seemed to be too bothered by all the pandemonium, and she wanted to do something to make me feel better, now that they’ve left at last. It was very nice of her and I’m duly grateful.”
“Mmmm,” Lanie repeated. “I thought you were going to have tight boundaries, no fraternizing with your roomer—no more Debra kind of stuff.”
“Quit worrying, Lanie,” Val said. “The boundaries are still there. I won’t let a Debra happen again. I assure you, it’s not the same.”
The two friends talked for a few moments and then said goodbye. As she worked the daily crossword, Valerie replayed the conversation with Lanie in her mind. Was Lanie a bit jealous of Gina? That was a funny thought. There had never really been any overtures on her or Lanie’s part. Nothing beyond teasing now and then. They were just good friends. Val had already concluded, for herself, anyway, that Lanie would not make a good long-term partner. She was a restless sort, always seeking new challenges, and that would not suit Valerie. She needed a loyal and dedicated lover—if and when the day came when she was ready for a loving relationship again. Which certainly isn’t now, she said to herself.
Val patted her full stomach and thought about Lanie’s protective comments. She found she liked both the food and the attention. This morning she felt a little bit less lonely and that was a good thing.
Rick cornered Gina at the theater while they were cleaning an auditorium. “J.J., a friend of mine in Arcata, is looking for a roommate. I think she wants less than what you are paying now. She’s got a nice place, and I think you’d get along,” he said.
“Oh.” Gina was surprised by the information and her heart skipped a beat. “Well,” she managed, “thanks for the tip. I’ll think about it.”
“Well, think quick because it’ll go in a heartbeat,” Rick shot back, “and it will help you get that debt of yours paid off sooner.” He wheeled his trash cart out the auditorium door.
Gina finished sweeping up and pushed her cart along after him. She’d sure like to save more money. That debt was going down, but not fast enough. Every time she got the bill it seemed longer and longer before it could be repaid. At the same time, she was comfortable at Valerie’s and she didn’t really want to move. She’d have to give it some deep thought.
Valerie lay in bed that night, wakeful. She couldn’t seem to relax, and she couldn’t put her finger on the reason why. It had been a good, productive day. She had taken Sam for a long walk and had put several hours in on her painting. The canvas she was working on was nearly complete. She even had an idea about what she wanted to paint next and that was a very good sign.
So what made her so restless?
Gina’s fixing breakfast, twice? Lanie’s expressing a little concern, which might be masking jealousy? Gina’s asking her to go dancing at the Purple Priscilla? Any and all of the above?
She tried to relax by stretching out in bed, arms way over her head, legs extended to the fullest under the sheet and blankets. Mmmm. Felt good and she did seem to relax a little.
But there was a body tension that was still there.
She allowed her hands to reach under her nightgown—moving over her skin, massaging here and there, trying to soothe away the tightness. Her fingers passed lightly over her breasts and they responded to the touch. She thought about the fact that she hadn’t made nice to herself like this for a long time. She didn’t even want to acknowledge how long it had been since she had really touched her own body. Probably not since Doreen had died and for months before that while Doreen had been gravely ill.
Her body, she realized with some surprise, was hungry for attention and she stroked and massaged herself with growing intensity. How could she have neglected herself this way? With her sadness over Doreen, the move, the settling, and the adjustment, it all made sense that she just hadn’t thought about her physical needs. Everything else got in the way. Maybe she was becoming a little menopausal as well. She was nearing that age, but she hadn’t seriously considered it since she was still getting her periods.
Little goosebumps formed on her skin as she touched herself. Even her own touch caused a tickling sensation wherever her fingers fell. She put her hand over her mound of honey-blonde curls and she could feel her muscles pulling. Her fingers gently slipped between her legs, and she discovered she was wet. Surprised and delighted, she could not stop herself. She stroked her clitoris and found it hardening and rising beneath her touch. Almost instantly her back arched and she went into a strong climax, gasping for breath. Ripples of heat and pleasure passed throughout her entire body.
Covered in perspiration, she fell back against the pillows. She was astonished but satisfied by the reality, the strength, of her capacity for sexual response. It had been such a long, long time.
Downstairs from Valerie, Gina lay soaking in the clawfoot bathtub. She hadn’t felt sleepy, despite the late hour, and she thought a soak might help her relax. She loved this old bathtub. Initially she hadn’t been too sure. Having always been a shower freak, she felt this tub wasn’t very conducive to taking enjoyable showers. Because there was a showerhead sticking out of the wall and a metal ring above the tub, with a plastic shower curtain attached, showers were technically possible. But the whole setup was awkward and inconvenient. Over the months, with her exhausting schedule, she had gradually started taking baths more often—especially at night, when she could soak away the soreness of being on her feet for hours at Ritchie’s and then again at the theater. So this night, her head abuzz, she took her body to the bath.
She wondered what was making her restless. Was it the full moon or something that had happened that day that would not let her even feel sleepy?
Rick’s information about a possible roommate in Arcata was on her mind. He knew that she was working three jobs to pay off a large debt, and he also knew that she had only a room and bath—no real house privileges—where she was living. He might have been concerned about that and wanted to see if he could help her out.
This place in Arcata could save her money, if his information was correct. On the other hand, she had become comfortable here. And her jobs were all in Eureka. It could cost her more in time and gas to drive from Arcata, even though it was only a few miles up the highway.
But she needed to get the debt paid off, and every dollar counted. Maybe she should call Rick, get his friend’s name, and at least look at the place.
Yet she would miss Valerie. And why? Val was nice, but there was nothing between them. Just a pleasant friendship. Sure, Valerie was good looking in a mature sort of way, but Gina just couldn’t see her as a possible romantic interest. And why would she? It wouldn’t make any sense—especially when she was getting ready to go to San Francisco to work and build a life there. So why the big deal about moving out?
But when Gina was honest with herself, some part of her didn’t really want to move away from th
is house or from Valerie or even from Sam.
Gina’s cell phone rang. She was working at the record store the following Friday morning and the call took her by surprise. She normally kept her cell on but rarely got a call.
Picking the phone up off the counter, she said “Hello” into it.
“Gina, this is Valerie.”
“Yes—what’s up?” Gina was startled to get a call from Val.
There was a slight hesitation on the other end. Then, “Did you say that you and your friends are going to the Purple Priscilla tonight?”
“Yes,” Gina replied, a bit surprised by the question.
“Well, you had asked me to go sometime and I wondered if I could meet you there. Tonight.”
“Sure,” Gina said, grinning to herself with amusement.
“What time do you think you’ll be going?”
“I’ll be done at Ritchie’s by 8:30, I’m sure. Rick will pick me up there, so we’ll be at the club by 9 anyway. We usually get a booth and the dancing will be in full swing by then. I’ll keep an eye out for you if you decide to come.”
“Okay, I’ll come by about 9:30. What’s the dress code?”
Gina chuckled. “California casual. Don’t sweat it. See you later.”
As she put the phone down, Gina was both shaking her head in disbelief but somewhere inside she was also dancing with glee. And why? She wondered about that with amusement.
The first time Gina visited the Purple Priscilla, she had been so nervous that she barely looked at the décor. Later all she could remember was dark, noise, and purple.
After a few more visits, she was relaxed enough to take notice of this unique alternative bar. It was, not surprisingly, decorated in purple. From the street the bar was almost invisible, in an old warehouse, looking rather run down, with a weed-infested asphalt parking lot next to it. No one would guess what was inside, and there were no obvious signs posted anywhere. If you didn’t know it was there, you’d never find it.
Inside the bar was another story. Purple bar, purple booths, purple tables and chairs, purple helium-filled balloons flying from the rafters above, purple dance floor, purple curtains behind the stage, purple neon signs over the bar and inside the front door. Other than these garish purple highlights the bar was very dark and painted black. The floor was covered in sawdust.
On this particular Friday evening Gina, Rick, and his pals, Eric and Paul, had a booth—the same one they usually commandeered. They were all on their second beer. Rick could go swishy, but he was usually pretty ordinary in his attire. His friends, Eric and Paul, were more “flaming,” with spiked hair, gold studs in their ears, nose, and belly, and tight silk shirts tied above the waist over low-slung black leather pants. They looked almost like twins, at least in dress. Gina often thought of them as rock stars, and this wasn’t too far off because both were members of a punk rock band. On this night they didn’t have a gig, so they were hanging out.
A band commanded the stage. This evening it was an all-girl band called “The Amazons.” Female performers were a rarity in this male-oriented establishment, Gina had been told. She enjoyed listening to the tall, blond, leather-clad lead singer, who handled her guitar quite well, the dark-haired keyboardist, a devilish looking drummer whose neckline came down to her waist, and a fourth chunky redhead, who switched from flute, to clarinet, and then saxophone. The group seemed to have a large repertoire of music from several genres.
At the moment most of the dancers were male, but two lesbian couples were also gyrating on the floor. The atmosphere, overall, was decidedly loud and sweaty.
Gina sat with Rick. The two were talking about the multiplex and people they worked with there. Eric and Paul seemed to be in a world of their own. They periodically took to the floor with a jaunty “Bye.”
Although she was excited and a bit anxious as she waited for Valerie to arrive, Gina still focused on Rick.
“If you don’t mind my asking,” she said to him unexpectedly, “I always see you with Eric and Paul. Don’t you have a main squeeze of your own? Or are you all a threesome?” She blushed.
Rick gave her a big grin, shaking his head. “No, no threesome. It’s too much fun playing the field.”
“You’ve never had someone special?” She was sure there was a story there somewhere because she had never seen him with anyone.
Rick shifted in his seat and looked down at his tall mug of beer, running his finger around the rim. He frowned. “There was one, once,” he admitted, with a sideward glance at Gina. “A guy I knew from Humboldt State. He was studying acting.” Remembering, he smiled, “A real good looker. Like a movie star.” He was quiet a moment.
“What happened to him?” Gina persisted.
“Split. Went to New York. Didn’t ask me to go, and I’ve never heard from him since.” He took a deep breath and Gina wondered how much he had grieved over that loss.
She started to say something, but Rick quickly recovered and gave her a silly grin. “I just enjoy what’s around. No expectations, no regrets.”
Gina studied him. “Sounds like a good excuse to me. I’m not sure I buy it.” She considered it for a moment and then risked saying, “Maybe you only want what you can’t have.”
“Oh, a psychologist tonight.” Rick had a sarcastic edge in his voice.
Gina decided she’d better back off. “Well, whatever. You’re too sweet and too much fun not to have someone special making over you,” she observed. She then steered the conversation back onto neutral ground.
Shortly after 9:30 Gina glanced around the bar and saw Valerie standing just inside the front doorway, her eyes searching anxiously across the darkened room.
“Over here,” Gina called, standing and waving.
Val saw her, heaved an obvious sigh of relief, and quickly worked her way among the tables to the booth. Gina motioned her to sit and introduced her to Rick.
“You made it.” Gina gave Valerie a warm smile.
“Yep,” Val responded, her own smile somewhat forced. Her hazel eyes darted and she looked like she might run at any moment.
Gina touched her arm. “Would you like a beer?” she asked loudly, trying to be welcoming and yet make herself heard over the din.
“Beer’s okay, although I’d prefer white wine if it’s available.” Val also had to shout to be heard over the music.
Gina motioned to the server, a slender young man with purple spiked hair who was dressed in a purple vest over a black long-sleeve T-shirt and purple slacks. The server appeared at their side and took Valerie’s order.
As he scooted away Val commented wryly, “They must really like purple in here.”
Gina laughed. “It just about puts your eyes out, doesn’t it?”
Valerie nodded and smiled. She was clearly beginning to relax a little. She allowed herself to look around at the couples dancing and at the women’s band on the stage.
Rick, on his third beer, was feeling no pain.
“So this is Valerie,” he said. “Gina’s landlady, right?”
Val nodded hesitantly, one eyebrow raised, clearly not sure how to take his comment.
Rick grinned. “Gina said you were older so I imagined this little gray-haired lady, but wow, you aren’t what I expected,” he said.
Valerie looked bemused at what was obviously a backhanded compliment. She looked from Gina to Rick, as if wondering what this was all about.
“Now I know,” Rick continued, “why Gina didn’t want to move away.”
Valerie gave him a puzzled look and then turned to Gina. “What?”
“Would you like to dance?” Gina suddenly interrupted, almost pulling Val out of the booth and toward the dance floor. She gave Rick a stern frown as she did so. Rick shrugged at her, suggesting that he was sorry for having spilled the beans.
Sensing that his comments might be payback for her having questioned his personal life, Gina tried to put that aside as she led Valerie out onto the dance floor. Thankfully this rhythmic number enco
uraged personal expression but not close dancing. Gina began gyrating and Val soon picked up the rhythm and the movements.
“Hey, you’re pretty good,” Gina enthused.
“Thanks, but what was that all about?” Valerie questioned.
“Oh, nothing really. Rick knows someone in Arcata who was looking for a roommate. He thought it might be good for me, because I could save some money and get my debt paid off sooner,” Gina explained as they shook and turned and twisted on the floor. “But I figured out that the added time and gas to go from Arcata to my jobs would just about equal the savings in rent, so I turned it down,”
“I see.” Discomfort and confusion were written on Valerie’s face.
“Besides,” Gina said with a little smile, “I’d miss you and Sam.”
“Oh. I see, I guess.” Val seemed a little relieved at Gina’s additional explanation.
The number ended and the two women returned to the table. Eric and Paul were now seated there. They greeted Valerie, who appeared to find them charming. “I haven’t seen a social scene like this since San Francisco,” she whispered to Gina.
When the two men trotted off to dance again, Val quipped, with an amused smile, “I must be living a sedate life.”
“Careful,” grinned Gina, looking at Rick, “you’ll blow your cover.”
Rick started to make a crack and Gina kicked him under the table. He considered that for a moment, rubbing his ankle with his hand, and then offered, “Gina says you’re an artist. Painter?”
“Yes.” Valerie gave him a friendly smile.
“What do you paint?”
“Landscapes, mostly. Outdoor scenes. Kind of impressionistic, sometimes a little whimsical.”
“No nudes?”
Val laughed. “No nudes. At least not recently. I’ve done them in my time, especially when I was studying art,” she said.
“Well, if you start doing nudes again, I’m available to model.” He posed flamboyantly. “I’m just dying to model for someone.”
Valerie smiled and Gina wondered what she was really thinking. If Val wanted to do nudes, Gina suspected she’d most likely be doing women. But then maybe men—especially gay men—saw themselves at the center of everything.
North Coast: A Contemporary Love Story Page 11
