Flabbergasted, Valerie froze on the spot, but Sam dashed through the doorway and jumped up on Gina, licking her face before she could defend herself. Gina just laughed and petted the dog with her free hand while she kept her eyes focused directly on Val.
“Wow,” Val gasped, finally finding her voice. “Gina. What a surprise! Uh, come in.”
“Thanks,” Gina said, stepping across the threshold into the house where she had once lived. “I brought you these,” she added, handing the bouquet to Valerie. “I’d like to say they came from San Francisco but, truth is, they would have wilted in the heat during the long trip up. My Beetle’s air conditioning isn’t very reliable. So these came from a little shop near the Boardwalk here in Eureka.” She slid her sunglasses back on her head.
“I don’t know what to say,” Valerie sputtered. She accepted the flowers and sniffed their fragrance as she tried to recover her emotional balance. “I have the perfect vase for these. Come into the kitchen while I find it.”
She headed through the dining room. Gina followed with Sam on her heels.
“What has happened to you? Are you visiting for the weekend or what?” Valerie asked, still flustered. Her heart had begun pounding the moment her hazel eyes met Gina’s deep blue ones.
Gina just smiled. “When you can sit down for a moment, I’ll tell you all about it.”
Valerie found a vase and put the flowers in the middle of the dining room table. “I’ve been painting and I’m a mess,” she stammered nervously. She slipped out of her smock, under which she wore jeans and a short-sleeve T-shirt. She motioned Gina toward the living room, where the two of them collapsed into the leather recliners.
Gina was quiet for a moment. They stared at each other, both with hesitant smiles.
Valerie finally couldn’t stand the silence and demanded, “So tell!”
“Well,” Gina began, suppressing a grin. “I’m back. I start Monday as assistant manager at the movie complex where I used to work. That’s full time, with benefits. And I’ve got an interview at Humboldt State for a part-time teaching position for an evening class. I have an apartment here in Eureka.”
She paused, as Valerie stared unbelieving. Gina looked so different, so well put together. Her eyes were even deeper blue and even more intense than Val had remembered.
Gina finally spoke again. “And I’m here to ask you out to dinner. Tonight, tomorrow, whenever you are free.” She paused for a second and then added, “As a date.”
Valerie was totally confused. “What happened to San Francisco?”
Gina shook her head. “That’s as much as I’m telling you now. If you decide to risk going out with me, at dinner I’ll tell you the rest,” she promised.
After a moment of absolute silence, Gina stood up. A grin now crept across her face. “You may need time to think, because I know you’ve long since written me out of your life. But I’ve put my address and phone number down on this card. If you decide to, give me a call. Okay?”
Before Valerie could gather her wits, Gina had patted Sam on the head and slipped out the front door. Val sat for a long time in her chair and studied the card—the handwriting on it was familiar, but the person she had just seen seemed so radically different from the Gina she had known a year ago.
Valerie drove north on the 101 with Sam at her side, as she always did in good times and bad and whenever she wanted to sort things out. She had planned to go back to work on her painting but her mind wouldn’t focus. All she could think about was Gina’s sudden appearance on her doorstep. So she had abandoned the studio and driven up the 101 to Trinidad State Beach. She needed a long, long walk.
Eventually, physically and mentally wiped out, she sat down on a large rock and pulled Sam close to her. “What are we going to do, girl?” she asked.
Val was utterly shocked. She had been so careful not to communicate with Gina. She had literally forced herself to take only a mild interest in the letters and cards she received from San Francisco or news of Gina that her friends had shared with her. At first she felt sad and only harbored a touch of bitterness. Gina had been a very meaningful part of her life. But she had left and gradually Val had let go of even that. Gina had gone to the Bay Area and, as far as Valerie was concerned, she had gone permanently. After a few months passed, Val had opened herself up to Lanie’s increasing attention. The two had gone out to dinner and movies and had started to take long walks together. Nothing physical yet—about that Val was very cautious—but in time sexual intimacy might come. She had accepted that possibility.
Now Gina was back. And this new Gina was coming on like gangbusters, with a job lined up, her own place, flowers in her hand, and a dinner invitation.
But did Valerie want her back in Eureka? Was her return a good thing, or was Val better off without Gina in her life? Had she been relieved, when all was said and done, that Gina had gone on with her own life and lived and worked down the highway in San Francisco? Was Val relieved that Gina wasn’t around to tempt her, consciously or unconsciously, into some kind of more committed attachment? Or a sexual involvement? Maybe it would have been better for her if Gina had stayed in ’Frisco and never returned to Eureka?
And was this sudden appearance just another tug at her heartstrings? Would Gina come for six months and then leave for somewhere else? Val certainly didn’t want to play that sort of game.
On the other hand, Valerie asked herself if she was overreacting because of the pain she had felt over Doreen’s death? Was she afraid to consider how much Gina had come to mean to her during that year—and might mean again, now or in the future?
A big part of her wanted to pretend that Gina hadn’t come back so she could go on with her life as it had been until two hours ago. Was that possible? She sighed to herself, as she realized that she was probably—inevitably, perhaps—going to have to deal with Gina.
“Well, Sam, should I go to dinner with Gina or not?” she asked the dog.
Sam merely panted, licked Valerie’s hand, and wagged her tail.
The restaurant overlooked the Pacific Ocean and was decorated in a nautical theme. Paintings and photographs of lighthouses hung on every wall, and small working models of lighthouses were positioned throughout the restaurant. Even the salt and peppershakers were shaped like lighthouses.
Gina had made a reservation at this very special restaurant along the coast south of Eureka. She and Valerie were now seated at a white, linen-covered table in a very private area just inside glass windows that overlooked a bluff and the water beyond. They could see the sailboats returning to Humboldt Bay after an afternoon on the ocean. Waves crashed on the rocks below and the sun was starting to dip toward the horizon.
Valerie had recovered from her initial shock at seeing Gina again and had agreed to join her for dinner. Like the poker player she was, Val had bet on only the next upturned card—in this case, dinner—nothing beyond that. That is, until she could hear what Gina had to say. Val was very nervous, but she had accepted the invitation.
Gina looked anxious as if she had a lot at stake in the conversation of this evening and perhaps many other evenings to follow. Valerie noticed that Gina had worn a sharp-looking outfit: white slacks and V-neck tee, with a navy bush jacket. Val wore tan, a color that accented her honey blonde hair and hazel eyes.
The two decided to share a bottle of merlot, which they sipped slowly while stealing glances at each other and then quickly averting their eyes to stare at the ocean. A server appeared and they placed their order, for grilled fish to be shared. Conversation was clearly difficult.
Finally Valerie took a deep breath and demanded, “You promised to tell me more, and I’m here. I can’t stand it any longer, so tell me!”
Gina chuckled with surprise at Val’s unexpected vehemence. “Okay, I’ll talk. But I don’t know where to start.”
“Tell me about San Francisco! What happened there that caused you to come back here?”
“Well, I loved San Francisco,” Gina began, her
blue eyes sparkling. “It was everything I had ever dreamed it would be. But while I was there—working in a bookstore, and assisting in teaching an English class for non-English speaking students two nights a week—I had a lot of time to think. I had time to consider things, put them in perspective.” She paused and played with her silverware, as if trying to find the right words.
“I guess,” she finally continued, “I did a lot of growing up there. I didn’t have parents to tell me what to do, or teachers, or therapists, or even a kind landlady to watch over me.” She gave Valerie one of her slightly crooked smiles. “I was living in this row house with an elderly Asian lady who was pleasant and helpful but not involved, so I was totally on my own. I had a full-time job with benefits, for the first time ever, and I learned what that felt like. I didn’t have a big debt anymore, so my money was my own. I had a chance to find out what I wanted to do with money when I had it to spend.”
She paused a second to look out at the ocean. “Then I finally got into a classroom, and I learned some new things about teaching—like what I enjoyed and didn’t enjoy. I saw how hard the competition is to get into college teaching in the Bay Area and how I could spend years opening that first door. I began questioning just how much I wanted to teach, if it was worth the battle to me.”
“That’s interesting,” Valerie interrupted. “Are you saying that you now may not want to teach? After all that education you’ve had?”
Gina smiled at her indulgently. Val was being maternal again. “Well, I’d hate to go that far,” she explained, taking a deep breath. “But I think I’ve realigned its importance to me. I think I originally wanted to be a teacher because my mother was a teacher. Going to school got me off the farm and gave me opportunities to experience culture and travel that I’d never have had in that rural part of Illinois. That’s a plus. It will always be there. But I’ve questioned whether I really wanted to be a teacher for myself or because I saw my mom doing it. Maybe I wanted to teach because I thought she expected it of me. Apart from everything else, I figured out that I want to write, and I’ve been doing more of that.”
“What kind of writing?” Valerie asked.
Gina frowned and straightened her cloth napkin. “I’ve done some short stories, but beyond that I don’t know exactly. I will allow that to come in time. But that isn’t really what I’m trying to share with you,” she said.
Valerie nodded, realizing in her nervousness she wasn’t letting Gina express herself. Hold your tongue, woman, she thought to herself.
“While I was in San Francisco,” Gina continued, “I started to ask myself what is truly important to me, what I am running to because it’s all I know, or because I think I’m supposed to. And what am I running away from? Am I afraid, or is it because I’ve been hurt—?” She stopped for a moment. She took a sip of wine and carefully studied a lighthouse painting high on the wall directly in front of her.
The waiter brought steaming bowls of clam chowder, and they both cut through the tension in the air by picking up their spoons and sampling the hot soup.
After a few moments, Gina again took up the thread of her story. “In ‘Frisco, I had a chance to think about what I had known here in Eureka and what I could see there. I began to compare what my life could be like in both places. That was something new to me—to have this chance to see down two roads.”
Gina downed a spoonful of the chowder and began again. “I thought I wanted to be in a big city because life on the farm hadn’t satisfied me. I wanted the bright lights, the culture, and the beautiful things to experience sensually, but by the time I got to San Francisco I had lived in a small community that was satisfying, that had a lot to offer. I had wanted to be in San Francisco because of the gay community and because I thought that I would be able to live there openly as a lesbian. But by the time I got to the City, I already had done that. So, I satisfied my dreams by taking all the tours, riding the city buses and the BART, visiting Golden Gate Park, going to art films, the ballet, opera, The Castro, bookstores and bars—and it was all wonderful. I enjoyed everything very much, but now I realize that I don’t need it all the time. I can visit San Francisco—I don’t need to live there.”
Gina looked directly into Valerie’s eyes.
An efficient young waiter interrupted them by bringing their dinners and, for a time, they ate in silence. They pretty much cleaned their plates, except for a small helping of salmon that Val put in a box for Sam. Suddenly Valerie looked at Gina expectantly. She was beginning to see a thread in the conversation, but she knew that the younger woman had still not come to the point.
“I started thinking about home—about what was good in Illinois,” Gina explained. “It was the people—how we were there for each other. Looking back, now I can see that my parents had a solid marriage and they both made compromises to make it work. Their relationship was their rock, and it made everything else in their lives possible, including the sacrifices they made to get me through school.
“Because I was sexually ambivalent, I avoided relationships or any kind of deep or personal commitment. And now I realize it was only my sexual confusion, not my personal beliefs. I believe in commitment to friends and to one special person for life. In San Francisco I started to realize that I was putting career at the top of my list of important things, when relationships are really the most important to me.” Gina took a deep breath. “It was something I wasn’t ready to hear when you talked about relationships being important to you before I left Eureka.
“When I got clear about myself, I started thinking about coming back to Eureka. The best things I’ve ever known have been here, and the best person I’ve ever known is here—you. And so I’m here to say those words and see where they take me, or us, to be exact.” Gina stopped abruptly, looking as if she was not sure she should continue.
Valerie stared at her, shocked by Gina’s revelations. “Wow!” was all she could say.
There was silence for a moment. Gina shifted uncomfortably in her chair and then started to speak again. “Coming back was scary because you never wrote to me. I didn’t know if you would even see me, even speak to me.”
Valerie sighed. “I shied away from you on purpose. You were headed to San Francisco. I knew I was never going back there. It seemed pointless to pursue anything that could only lead to pain.”
Gina nodded and stared out at the ocean.
“Well,” she said finally, “My coming back now is a lot to absorb, I’m sure, and you’ve not been there in the middle of my head while this was going on. I don’t expect you to understand all of it, or to respond right now. You’ve given me a big gift by coming out to dinner with me and just listening.”
Valerie stared at her. “I really don’t know what to say,” she said.
“I know.” Gina smiled. “It’s a lot for you. You don’t have to say anything.”
They settled on crème brulee for desert, one dish with two spoons, to share. They had shared food in the past, including the salmon at dinner this evening, so this little intimacy was not uncomfortable. For the moment, it was as far as they could go toward each other.
When they arrived back at Valerie’s house, Gina got out quickly, opened the passenger door of the Beetle, and walked Val up to the front door. She said goodnight. Then, “I’d like to do this again, but I want to give you a few days to think about it. I’ll call you.”
Valerie nodded. Gina gave her a quick hug and then departed just as quickly.
Val took Sam up the 101, this time to Little River State Beach. She walked a long distance with the dog before she settled on a large mound of sand and sat for awhile to soak up some afternoon sun. The retriever sat by her, sniffing the ocean breeze. Val was so thankful for these secluded places where she could come to think and get right with herself.
Her head had been spinning since Gina’s abrupt return from San Francisco. The dinner discussion had made it clear to her that Gina had done a lot of deep thinking and was serious about pursuing a re
lationship. Given that she had set goals before—like getting a Ph.D., paying off her debt, and going to San Francisco—and had met all of them, Gina’s determination wasn’t to be taken lightly.
But what, Val asked herself, did she want? Was Doreen far enough in her past not to interfere with another relationship? Did Valerie even want another relationship, or did she want to stay focused on her art now that it was beginning to sell? If she permitted a relationship to enter her life, did she want one with Gina, who was so much younger, or with Lanie, who had more in common age-wise and who had a full life of her own—who wouldn’t be so intense?
Gina had seemed so young when she first came to the house that it had been easy then to write her off. She had grown up now and had become much more a force to be reckoned with. But Gina was still a work in progress, and her intense needs showed clearly in her eyes—or could that have been desire? A relationship with Gina could prove all-consuming. It would undoubtedly be exciting at times and challenging at times, but less stable in certain subtle ways than a relationship with someone who was at the stage that Val was in her life. Could Valerie handle that inequity? Did she even want to invest in such a relationship?
Okay, she admitted to herself, she hadn’t forgotten how much she had enjoyed having Gina living in her home and how much Sam had taken to her. And Val hadn’t forgotten the moments of sexual attraction between them. If she let her body decide, she’d be in bed with Gina before the week was out.
An amused smile was followed by a frown. This was no time to make such a casual, impulsive decision. She had the rest of her life to consider. She wouldn’t even explore the possibility of a life with Gina unless the commitment was a shared one between them. And she had to be sure that Gina was the kind of person who would be there down the road. Valerie had already proved herself loyal, faithful, and willing to take hard knocks—to be at a dying lover’s side. She knew what she had to offer and didn’t want any less in return. Given her age, should they become a couple, the odds were that Gina would someday be where Val had already been with Doreen, facing loss and loneliness.
North Coast: A Contemporary Love Story Page 24
