by Erin Zak
Bernadette raised her beer to her lips, but before she drank she said, “You’re so sure it’s a boy, eh?”
Stevie’s insides did a cartwheel. She wanted to jump up and shout Yes! at the top of her lungs. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the occasional challenge. And even now, it wasn’t as if she wanted a relationship. She wanted this woman for some weird reason, and she couldn’t fight the weird connection they seemed to have. It scared her a little because she knew distraction was not something she handled well. But Bernadette? Oh, she wanted to handle her. “I mean,” Stevie said before she took a sip of her freshly delivered drink. “I guess anything is possible.”
“Very true.”
“You have a girl then?”
“Have? No…” Bernadette paused. “I don’t have her. She’s there, though.”
“Prominently?”
“No?”
“You sound like you aren’t sure.” She turned toward Bernadette. She slid her black leather jacket off and draped it over the back of her chair, then looked directly at Bernadette. Into her dark brown eyes. At her expertly applied makeup. At the laugh lines around her eyes and near her mouth. “Are you sure?”
“No.”
“Would you like to be sure about someone?”
Bernadette stared at her.
“You have never been sure, and you want so badly to be sure. Do you remember saying that?”
“I didn’t say it, though.” Bernadette raised her hand slightly from her lap, and Stevie’s eyes were drawn to it instantly.
“Constance did,” Stevie said softly, her eyes still on Bernadette’s hand, on the prominent vein that crossed the top under her lily-white skin. “But you remember?”
“I do.”
She reached out with a shaky hand and took Bernadette’s hand in hers. The same feeling that flooded her the very first time they touched slammed right into her again. Her mouth, her tongue, her taste buds, everything could almost taste the familiarity and the promise of hope. She ran her finger along the vein on the top of Bernadette’s hand all the way to her index finger. She heard Bernadette’s sharp intake of breath even over the thump of the music. “You have lovely hands.”
“Thank you.” Bernadette’s voice was low and smooth. “I’ve always been told they’re big.”
Stevie looked up as she moved so she was no longer touching Bernadette’s hand. “They’re really elegant. You’re really elegant.” She watched as Bernadette’s cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink. “So tell me, how did you get into sign language?”
“Nice subject change.” Bernadette’s eyebrow was arched, and her eyes were sparkling. “Our mom is deaf.” She motioned to herself and Paul. “I learned at a young age how to sign. It was an interesting childhood, to say the least.”
Stevie watched Bernadette, who was stiff as a board as she spoke. It was strange, considering how fluid her movements were while she signed.
“Watching you sign is…” Stevie nodded and licked her lips. “It’s something, all right.”
Bernadette tilted her head. “Oh yeah? How so?”
“You’re captivating. When you signed everything to Constance or up onstage that night for the foundation fundraiser, you were so in your element.”
“I’m a much better signer than speaker,” Bernadette said before she took a long drink of her beer. Stevie wished she was the glass held up against those lips. “I have a slight case of social anxiety.”
“I’m shocked.”
“Is that the best acting you can do? That reaction? Because it was awful.” Bernadette laughed, and Stevie felt herself join. “It’s okay. I can deal with it fine. I don’t necessarily like communicating with my voice.”
She leaned closer to Bernadette’s ear. She could smell the almonds and cherries again from Bernadette’s hair. She breathed in, and when she let out the air she said softly, “Your voice is lovely, though.”
“Did you just smell my hair?”
“I did.” Her answer was matter-of-fact. “It smells amazing.”
Bernadette shook her head before she drank again. “I’m assuming the part where I said there’s a she in my life is not something you’re worried about.” She held her beer to her lips, almost as if she knew Stevie was staring at them and wondering what they’d feel like pressed against hers.
“Do you think I should be worried about it?”
Bernadette echoed the shrug, still holding her beer to her lips.
“If you tell me to stop, I will.” Stevie smiled. “Do you want me to stop?”
“I don’t even know what you’re doing,” Bernadette said from behind her glass. “I don’t even know how I found you.”
“By accident, obviously, because I wasn’t going to go with them”—she gestured toward her friends—“that night. It was purely a last-minute decision. And then the feeling I had when I walked through those stupid beads and you were there and you caught me when I almost fell…”
“Describe the feeling,” Bernadette said after she moved her glass. She steadied it on her knee, and Stevie watched the condensation create a mark on Bernadette’s jeans. It was sweat from a fucking glass, but the way Bernadette’s fingers were gripping the glass and the way the sweat rolled over her fingers and the way she seemed to welcome the cool feeling against her skin, all of it made Stevie’s insides churn.
She tore her eyes from Bernadette’s knee, her jeans, the water ring, her fingers, and looked around the bar. She could see a couple making out in the corner behind Bernadette. She placed her hand on Bernadette’s calf, the one crossed over her right leg, and leaned close. “Don’t look…” Bernadette went to look, and Stevie gripped her calf tighter. “I said, don’t look.” Bernadette’s eyes locked on to hers, and Stevie felt her panties get instantly damp. She cleared her throat. “There’s a couple kissing behind us. Look when I tell you to, okay?” Bernadette nodded, her eyes still glued to Stevie’s, until finally, she whispered, “Now.” She watched as Bernadette glanced over her shoulder. She half expected Bernadette to look quickly because why would she stare at the couple? But dammit, Bernadette kept looking…Stevie’s body was on fire as she observed this insanely attractive woman observing someone else’s intimate moment. It was so erotic. When Bernadette finally turned her head and made eye contact with Stevie again, her entire face looked flushed. “You okay?”
“Jesus,” Bernadette whispered. “They’re going at it hard-core.”
“You feel that?”
“Feel what?”
“This,” she said as she reached over and placed her hand over Bernadette’s heart, which was thumping away. Why did Bernadette look as if she was getting ready to cry? Stevie pulled her hand away and shrugged. “It’s what I felt when I saw you.” She reached forward and grabbed her drink, took a sip, then set it back down on the table. “I mean, that’s the best description I could come up with.”
“That’s the best you could come up with?” Bernadette let out a laugh that almost echoed it was so loud.
Stevie laughed. “Yes. Not good enough for you?”
“It was a fine description.”
“Then? What’s the problem?”
Bernadette drained the rest of her beer, then leaned closer to Stevie’s space. She was frozen in place. “I think maybe next time, you should consider a different route.”
“Like what?”
“Like kissing me yourself.” Bernadette stood up and pushed her chair out in one fluid motion. She took off toward the bar with her empty beer glass, leaving Stevie sitting there stunned and insanely turned on.
* * *
Bernadette was shocked by her ability to be so brazen and carefree, especially since she should absolutely not be flirting. She was normally very standoffish when it came to speaking with new people. Her anxiety didn’t allow her to calm down enough to enjoy herself. But there was something about the way Stevie looked at her with those blue eyes and soft smile that made her want to sit back, relax, and flirt like a madwoman.
When she made her way back to her seat next to Stevie, she noticed not only had Paul disappeared, but all of Stevie’s friends were gone, as well. “Did Paul ditch me, or is he in the bathroom?”
“He totally ditched you. He told me to tell you bye, and also, don’t forget to be quiet when you get home.” Stevie scrunched her face. “I’m not sure I understand that last bit. He acted like it was the funniest thing he’d ever said.”
“He’s an asshole.” She sighed as she moved her chair closer to Stevie so she could see her better, smell her perfume better, feel the heat radiating off her better. “I still live at home. He thinks it’s funny because—”
“Ah, yes, because of your mom. I get it.”
Bernadette held her finger to her nose and tapped. “Exactly.”
“Wow. Seems like a great guy.” Stevie’s voice was coated with sarcasm, and it made Bernadette like her even more.
She leaned forward and propped an elbow on the table to her right. Her eyes were drawn to a small tattoo of an elephant and a heart at the bend of Stevie’s elbow.
Stevie said, “Everyone else sort of trickled away while you were in the bathroom.”
“How convenient.”
Stevie laughed. “I mean, it’s not like we were talking to them anyway.”
“Tell me about this.” Bernadette reached forward and ran her finger along the outline of the elephant. Stevie’s skin felt like silk. “Does it have a special meaning?”
Stevie’s eyes seemed to darken as she stared directly at Bernadette. “I don’t know if I’m ready to share that part of me yet.”
She ran her fingers along the underside of Stevie’s arm to her gold watch, where she wrapped her fingers around Stevie’s wrist and ran the pad of her thumb over the skin there. “Must be pretty big then.”
“It is.”
“Maybe one day you’ll tell me.”
Stevie continued to stare at her, into her eyes, and it made Bernadette feel as if Stevie was staring into her soul. It made chills erupt all over her body.
“You really want to know?” Stevie asked and Bernadette nodded. “My mom used to watch Dumbo with me when I was very small. And she’d sing the song to me—”
“‘Baby Mine’?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I love that song.” Bernadette, against her better judgment, continued to stroke the soft underside of Stevie’s wrist. She was walking a very thin line between right and wrong, and she found the feeling very exhilarating. Forbidden romances were always a thing for her. She never thought she’d be embarking on one, though. And how forbidden was this between Stevie and her anyway? She wasn’t in love with Sarah. The only thing forbidden was that Stevie was Connie’s client, and Bernadette had been there during the entire reading. She was the one who told Stevie about huge changes and the possibility of new love and remembering to experience life.
“So do I,” Stevie whispered and then cleared her throat, almost as if she was clearing the emotion from her voice. “They were killed in a car accident when I was seven. I was in the car and survived. Obviously.”
Bernadette blinked. And then blinked again before she leaned closer to Stevie, never letting go of her wrist.
“I’m fine.” Stevie took a deep breath and pulled her wrist from Bernadette. She clasped her hands and set them in her lap.
Bernadette wondered if she’d overstepped a boundary but tried her hardest to not obsess. “I know you’re fine,” she said. “But holy shit.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s—”
“Rough?”
“It’s heartbreaking.”
“Yeah.” Stevie looked around the bar, the alternative music continuing to thump, and then, out of nowhere, seemed to compose herself as she said, “Tell me about this woman in your life.”
Bernadette laughed. “Why do you want to know about her?”
“You want the truth? Or do you want me to say what I should say?”
“The truth. But I also want to know what you think you should say.”
“What I should say is I’m making conversation. I’m not interested. I’m going to walk away from this moment and go about my life.” Stevie’s eyes seemed to be searching for something, and Bernadette wanted to know what it was. “But the truth is I can’t stop thinking about you since that tarot card reading. And I feel like accidentally running into you has been for a reason. Some weird higher power reason I can’t seem to get my head around. And I don’t want to keep denying there’s something between us. So I want to know if you’re completely involved with someone else or if you’re sort of feeling the same way about me.”
“Well, okay then.” Bernadette could hear her heart beating, could feel the tingling between her legs, and her hands wanted to reach out and grab Stevie’s face so she could kiss her insecurity away. But instead, she tore her eyes from Stevie, glanced around the bar, and motioned to a man pulling a cooler on wheels through the bar. “Is that the tamale man?”
“I’m sure it is. Answer the question,” Stevie said, a little forcefully, but her voice was filled with uncertainty.
Bernadette sighed. “Fine. Her name is Sarah. And like I said before, she’s just sort of there.”
“She must be more than just there, though.”
“No, she truly is. I don’t know how else to describe it.” Bernadette reached up and ran her fingers through her hair. She noticed Stevie watching her every move, and dammit if it didn’t do more things to her center. She licked her lips, looked down at her hands, and sighed again. “She can’t quite handle my relationship with my mom.” Bernadette’s eyes darted to Stevie’s questioning expression. “That sounds odd. I know. But my father passed away a few years ago, and I was the one he trusted the most, so I’m the one in charge. Which sounds like she’s old and frail, but that’s not the case. She’s eighty-five and completely fine. Gets around the house fine. Still cooks, still cleans. She’s okay, so I don’t know why I have this compulsion to be there watching over her. I guess because every day that passes seems like it ages her a year or more. And I’m worried, I don’t know, I worry. It’s my nature to worry about things I have absolutely no control over.” She took a breath. Why was she unloading on Stevie? “Sarah wants me to focus on her. And I can’t. So, she’s just there.” Bernadette shrugged. “I’m not in love with her. It’s not a forever relationship, and it probably never will be. But she loves me so much, which I find odd. And she thinks I’m beautiful, and I don’t, so it’s nice.”
“Wait a second.” Stevie held her hand in the air. “You don’t think you’re beautiful?”
“That’s what you’re questioning about that entire word vomit session?” She laughed. “I don’t think I’m ugly. I have…I’ve always had self-esteem issues.” She stopped talking and covered her mouth with her hand. “Jesus, this is too much to tell you right now.” Her voice was muffled, and she wanted to shut the hell up, but there was something about talking to Stevie that made sense.
“But you feel like you can talk to me, don’t you?”
She bit her lip and nodded. “Why is that?”
“I don’t know,” Stevie said with a shrug. “But it’s exactly what I’m talking about.”
“Stevie,” Bernadette started but was cut off when Stevie raised her hand.
“Don’t.” Stevie reached forward and placed her hand on Bernadette’s. “Go with it. Okay? Because I never go with things…I never let things happen. I always try my hardest to never let anything just happen to me because the last time something happened, it was a horrific accident that took my family from me. I have spent my entire life hating the word accident because nothing good comes from them. They’re always a bad thing. But lately? These moments have happened…”
“I know what you mean.”
“It’s crazy, right? All these things that are happening since the tarot card reading have been amazing. When the fucking Death card was flipped over and I thought it meant legit death…It was crazy and I just don’t w
ant any of this to stop.” Stevie’s eyes looked as if they were filling with tears. “Is that okay?”
Bernadette agreed wholeheartedly because she couldn’t stop this even if she wanted to at this point, so she nodded.
“Okay. Good.”
“Connie will kill me if I get involved with a client.”
Stevie laughed. “Oh? So now you’re going to get involved with me?”
“You know what I mean.” Bernadette leaned back in her chair and drank the last swallow of her neglected beer. “I should probably get going.”
“Let me walk you to the L.” Stevie stood and pulled on her coat. Bernadette’s gaze roamed over Stevie’s torso to the thin line of skin revealed when Stevie raised her arms. “You coming?”
Stevie’s voice shook Bernadette from her thoughts, and she grabbed her purse. “Yes, I’m sorry.”
“Too busy checking me out?”
“It’s very rude to call someone out like that.” Bernadette followed Stevie through the bar to the exit. They walked out into the cool, crisp air, and both took deep breaths simultaneously. “I love this weather.”
Stevie slid her arm through the crook of Bernadette’s elbow and pulled her close. “I do, too. Makes me want to snuggle under a blanket on the couch watching a movie.”
Bernadette’s mind was racing at full speed, so she tried to focus on the sound of their shoes hitting the pavement, then the metal stairs as they climbed to the L platform, then the sound of Stevie breathing next to her as they waited for the train. She closed her eyes and could almost feel Stevie’s breath against her neck, her cheek, her lips…She couldn’t stop the thoughts, the fantasies that were forming about this woman she should not be feeling things for. But what if she went with the flow for once? What if she did what Stevie said to do and didn’t fight it?
As the train approached, Stevie took her phone out and shoved it at Bernadette. “Give me your number.”
She did as she was told, quickly tapping her digits onto the iPhone screen. When she handed it back, she locked eyes with Stevie. “I had such a great time tonight. You’re so talented.”
