Class Reunion

by Linda Hill

  The words angered Jen. “And growing up means that you have to marry Bobby Grimes,” she said sarŹcastically. “I never should have gone away to college. I should have stayed here and —”

  “And what? Nothing would be different. I still would have slept with Bobby.”

  Jennifer recoiled at her words. “You fucked him?”

  Sheila groaned impatiently. “You are so naive, Jenny.”

  “Naive for believing in you, Sheila. I trusted you.” Emotionally spent, she began to sob uncontrollably.

  Sheila slid across the bed and gathered Jennifer in her arms. “I’m so sorry, Jenny.”

  “And I’m just stupid,” Jen insisted when she found her breath. “I didn’t think you’d go through with it. I thought you loved me.”

  “Sh. I do love you, Jenny. I’ll always love you. I’ll always want you.” They held each other, whispering endearments and rocking each other until each gave in to exhaustion.

  Emotionally shut down, Jennifer made it through the day of Sheila’s wedding in a mindless fog. It wasn’t until the vows were spoken and the rice thrown that she finally crumbled. And before Sheila returned from her honeymoon, Jennifer was back in Phoenix, where she moved in and took refuge in Georgie’s arms.

  Jen’s teeth chattered, but she wasn’t cold. After nearly ten years without speaking, what had Sheila’s first words to her been the night before? She couldn’t remember. She felt confused, her thoughts incoherent. But now here she was in Des Moines, and Sheila wanted to see her. What could she want? What could she possible say to make it more over than it already was? Jennifer didn’t have the answer. But she knew she had to find out.

  Jennifer stumbled to the bathroom, where she slowly and deliberately showered. Meet me at my hotel. The words played with her emotions. Sheila’s voice had been so quiet, so seductive. She fantasized about their meeting until she had no doubt that they would make love. She refused to think about the night before, forgot about the last nine years of her life. She was going to see Sheila. They would be alone, she was certain. There was no mistaking the tone in Sheila’s voice. She wanted Jennifer. The way she’d wanted her before. Wouldn’t they always want each other?

  She sensed Sally’s disappointment and curiosity when she asked to borrow the car.

  “I thought we’d all go out to breakfast together.”

  “Tomorrow,” Jen assured her, feeling guilty as Tommy pulled on her hand. Images of herself with Sheila, alone, floated in her mind, and she knew that she was powerless. She couldn’t say no to Sheila.

  Chapter 6

  Barely ten minutes later, she was rapping on the door of room six-oh-two. Then the door was open and there was Sheila, draped in an oversize button-down dress shirt. In one glance, Jennifer took in the shirttail that just reached Sheila’s bare knees, and the naked calves and feet not far below. It didn’t take a lot of imagination to guess what was — or wasn’t — beneath that shirt. The curtains were drawn tight behind her so that Sheila’s features were mostly hidden. But Jennifer didn’t miss the lazy smile on Sheila’s lips.

  “I’m glad you came.” “You knew that I would.”

  “I hoped.” Sheila reached out a hand to take Jen’s, drawing her into the room before firmly closing and locking the door.

  They faced each other, inches apart in the semi-darkness.

  “You’re taller than I remember.” Sheila’s head was bent back as she looked up into Jennifer’s eyes.

  Jennifer had no reply as she felt an odd sense of deja vu envelop her. Standing so close, she could smell Sheila’s hair and the soft, feminine smell of her skin. Vivid memories crashed into the present. Scents that she recognized, even after all this time. Ten years later, and it was still the same. Nothing had changed. Nothing mattered. Except Sheila.

  “Why did you want to see me?” Jen focused on Sheila’s lips, knowing how they would feel against hers. Already tasting them, feeling them on her body.

  “You know why.” Sheila stared into Jen’s eyes, reading each thought, recognizing each play of emotion. She slid her hand up Jen’s arm, above her elbow, beyond her shoulder.

  Jennifer shuddered as she felt the cool flatness of Sheila’s palm on the nape of her neck, urging her closer. She bent down, and time fell away as their mouths met with a fierce familiarity. Lips and tongues and bodies pressed into each other hungrily, greedily, in a long embrace.

  “This is crazy.” Jen’s hands were on Sheila’s shoulders, forcing their bodies apart. She stepped back, stumbling as she fought to keep her sanity.

  Knees suddenly weak, she glanced around and fell back into the overstuffed chair behind her.

  Her chest heaving, Jen looked up to see Sheila standing before her, her breath coming in quick, short gasps, her lips wet from the kiss they had shared.

  Jen shook her head. “This is crazy,” she repeated.

  Sheila’s bare feet covered the floor between them quickly, and she bent to put a soft finger to Jennifer’s lips.

  “Sh.” She leaned over, replacing her finger with her own lips.

  Jennifer turned her face away in lame protest.

  “Sh,” Sheila whispered again, lifting her head to stare directly into Jennifer’s blue eyes. Without averting her gaze, she climbed onto Jennifer’s lap, lifting the shirttail as she settled herself on Jen’s thigh. The scent of Sheila’s passion assaulted Jennifer, and she clenched her teeth against the recognition and against her own weakening resolve.

  Their eyes did not waver as Sheila reached out to Jennifer’s hands, slowly turning and lifting them until Jen’s palms were on Sheila’s breasts. Jennifer swallowed hard. They continued to stare into each other’s eyes. No smiles now, just the thick, heavy curtain of seduction lay between them as their pulses quickened and their breathing shallowed.

  Coherent thought left her as Jen allowed herself to weigh the luxury of Sheila’s breasts in her hands. With immense pleasure, she let her thumbs and fingers trace over the puckering nipples as they hardened beneath the fabric of Sheila’s shirt.

  Sheila’s lids began to droop. Jennifer felt a sense of satisfaction at knowing exactly what Sheila liked, exactly how to give her pleasure. Impatiently, Sheila ripped the shirt away, anxious for the feel of Jen’s hands on her skin.

  Sheila’s whimper become a moan as Jen buried her face between the huge breasts, breathing deeply before pulling each nipple into her mouth. She was sucking hard, her tongue playing deftly as Sheila’s moans grew louder.

  As past and present blurred, Jennifer recalled how easily Sheila had been able to come this way, just from teasing her nipples alone. Jen eased back, her arms falling limp to her sides. Both women were breathing hard; passion clouded their eyes.

  Jen’s focus shifted to the damp heat of Sheila’s crotch on her thigh, and she groaned aloud for the first time as she realized that her jeans were comŹpletely drenched and saturated with Sheila’s passion.

  Then, as if she could read Jen’s thoughts, Sheila reached down, lifting her hips just enough to dip her fingers into her own wetness. She brought those same fingers to Jennifer’s lips, where Jen felt intoxiŹcation engulf her as those fingers slipped inside of her mouth. She sucked deeply, drowning in the taste and smell of Sheila.

  Sheila’s tongue pushed into her mouth, and Jen felt her own dampness growing. Unable to hold back any more, she wrapped an arm around Sheila’s waist, pulled her close, and plunged her fingers deep inside Sheila. Wild with pleasure, Sheila rocked against Jen’s fingers, each thrust mirroring the force of their mouths and tongues against each other. At last Sheila called out, her body convulsing as she fell against Jen’s chest.

  “God, Jenny,” Sheila began through deep breaths. “You’re so good.” Their mouths found each other again in a long, deep wet kiss. “Nobody’s as good as you are,” Sheila continued. “You still know my body like a book.”

  Through the fog of desire, Sheila’s words seeped through. It occurred to Jennifer that after ten years Bobby should certainly kno
w her body better than she.

  “You’ve ruined me, you know.” Sheila lifted her head and smiled teasingly. “Nobody else ever meaŹsures up to you.”

  Measure up? And what did she mean by nobody1? Had Sheila had other lovers over the years? She was a married woman, after all. “Have you had all that many to compare me to?”

  Sheila giggled nervously as she dropped her lashes. “Oh honey. There’ve been a few. But like I said, none of them were as good as you.”

  Torn between the demanding ache between her legs, and the sobering effect of Sheila’s words, Jennifer was stunned. Her mind moved slowly. Was she supposed to feel flattered?

  “Women?”

  Distractedly, Sheila toyed with the collar of Jennifer’s shirt. Conversation wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. Particularly this conversation. “Of course women,” she replied. “Why would I have an affair with a man? I already have one of those.”

  Jennifer’s features closed off. She wasn’t sure if she was sad or angry. But at a minimum, she was surprised. She’d never considered that Sheila might be with other women.

  Sensing the change in Jennifer’s mood, Sheila began trailing kisses along her neck while dropping one hand and seductively tracing the seam of Jen’s jeans between her legs. When Jennifer stiffened, withdrawing from the other woman’s touch, Sheila protested.

  “Don’t be jealous, Jenny,” she pouted. “I never loved any of them. Just you.”

  Jennifer pulled back as far as she could. “You really slept with other women?” she asked, her inŹcredulous tone giving away her contempt and disbelief all at once.

  Sheila scowled, for the first time resembling the woman from the evening before. “I suppose you thought you were the only one.”

  “Well, yes. No,” Jen replied slowly. “Actually, I never really thought about it.” She withdrew even farther, and Sheila broke out of the circle of her arms, moving to her feet as she paced the room draŹmatically.

  “What would you have had me do?” Sheila sulked. “You never returned any of my calls. And then we moved away.” She stopped pacing, arms folded as she gazed down at Jennifer. “Why didn’t you return my calls?”

  Suddenly weary, Jen tried to find an answer. “I just couldn’t.”

  Sheila’s lips were a bitter straight line. “Was she your lover?” she asked quietly.

  Jennifer’s face twisted, not following the other woman’s train of thought.

  “The voice on the answering machine. The one that always answered the phone.”

  Georgie. “Yes.” Jennifer’s voice was unemotional. “No. Not at first. But eventually, yes.”

  Sheila grimaced as she sat on the edge of the bed. She hugged herself, suddenly far away. “I nearly went crazy when I couldn’t reach you.”

  “You made your choice.” Bitterness from all those years ago began to swell in Jen’s chest.

  “But I wasn’t choosing him over you, exactly.”

  Jennifer couldn’t harness the guffaw that escaped her lips. “That’s not quite the way I remember it. You married him, remember.”

  “But I still wanted to be with you.” Sheila’s voice became shrill.

  Jennifer tried to find her own anger but found only sadness and regret. She wanted to laugh, to rail against this woman who had caused her so much heartache, but she didn’t have it in her.

  “I did the right thing, Sheila. I couldn’t share you like that. I wanted someone to love just me.”

  They were quiet for a few moments before Sheila broke the silence, her voice wistful. “I was such a stupid fool back then.”

  Jennifer couldn’t deny it, and after a few moments, Sheila smiled at her cautiously. “Do you have a lover now?”

  Surprised at the question, Jen shook her head. “No. Not now.” Not for nearly two years.

  “But you are still” — she hesitated — “with women?”

  “I’m a lesbian, yes.”

  Sheila lifted a brow and cocked her head sugŹgestively. “Well then,” she began as she approached Jennifer and knelt before her. “Let me touch you, Jenny,” she whispered, lifting a hand to trace the outline of Jen’s breast. “Let me love you.” She leaned over until their lips brushed. “Like before.” She sucked Jennifer’s lips greedily. “Like when we were kids.”

  A shudder of desire raked Jen’s body at the very moment that Sheila’s words twisted a knife in her chest. For the first time that morning, the old hurt began to swell, threatening to choke her.

  “I should probably get going.” She refused to let Sheila see her vulnerability. “I need to spend some time with my sister before the picnic this afternoon.” She placed her hands on Sheila’s shoulders and eased her away. She stared into Sheila’s eyes, for the first time noticing the lines that creased their corners. Her own eyes grew misty. “Besides, I’m sure that Bobby will be returning soon.”

  Sheila dropped her eyes and looked around nervously without speaking. Jennifer watched her behavior quizzically as a sick foreboding washed over. Her gaze darted around the room, taking it all in for the first time. Her stomach lurched with dread as she fully expected Bobby to appear at any moment. Where was he hiding? In the closet? The bathroom? But no, she quickly realized, all was quiet. They were alone. But something else was amiss. Something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Everything was too perfect. No suitcases, no clothing, no toiletries.

  “You rented this room just for this.” Even as she said the words, she couldn’t believe it.

  “So we could be alone,” Sheila rushed in. “What did you expect? That I would invite you up to the room I was sharing with my husband and kids?” She mocked her. “We’re staying at my folks’ house. I rented the room just in case.”

  “Just in case,” Jennifer cringed, internalizing the words. She had just had sex with a married woman. She suddenly felt dirty and sick to her stomach at the same time. She squirmed in the chair and stood up.

  “I have to go.” She headed for the door, but Sheila quickly stepped in her path.

  “Please don’t go, Jenny. We still have time.”

  “Until what? Until you have to meet your husband and kids?” She couldn’t help the sarcasm that dipped into her voice. They stood face-to-face, each seething with unspoken words and frustration. “Bobby knows, doesn’t he? I could tell by the way he was leering at me last night.”

  “I had to tell him.” Sheila quickly licked her lips. “I broke down,” she began haltingly, “after you moved. When I couldn’t reach you.”

  “Is that why you were such a bitch last night?” she asked.

  Sheila’s face colored, her nostrils flaring. “Bobby threw a nutty when he found out. I didn’t want to give him any ideas.”

  “I guess it’s safe to assume that he doesn’t know anything about the other women.”

  Sheila’s face became pinched. “No. Nothing.”

  “Why don’t you leave him, if that’s what you want? If you’re still attracted to women.”

  Clearly startled at the idea, Sheila looked as though it was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. “I would never leave Bobby. It’s a good marriage, Jenny.”

  Jennifer’s heart sank as she bit back a retort. Instead she nodded, trying to smile. “I’m sure it is,” she managed. “But I do have to go now. My sister’s waiting.”

  “You’ll be at the reunion, though, right? Later this afternoon and tonight?”

  Jennifer grinned a little, already dreading the rest of the day. “I imagine so.”

  “And perhaps you’ll meet me here again? Later?”

  Jennifer noted something near desperation in her voice, and she frowned, as confused as ever. She conŹsidered the shorter woman with mixed emotions. She wanted to say no, but she wasn’t sure that she would be able to stay away.

  “Perhaps,” she finally sighed, before allowing herŹself the luxury of stepping into Sheila’s arms once more. She breathed deeply, trying to commit to memory the smell of Sheila’s hair and the way the curv
es of Sheila’s body pressed against her own.

  Chapter 7

  Ten years earlier, Jennifer would have walked back into her sister’s house without ever letting on that something had just happened between her and Sheila. After all, she had done it nearly every day for years. But now was different. She’d developed a conŹscience over the years. She felt guilty. And foolish. And completely duped. Besides, she didn’t really think for a minute that Sally would believe that the wet spot on the thigh of her jeans was from spilled coffee.

  Sheepishly, she sneaked back into the house, meetŹing Allison’s reproachful eyes first. “Hey, Allison. What’s up?”

  The little girl threw her a wide-eyed look and retreated quickly to the kitchen.

  “Great,” Jen mumbled, then took a deep breath and followed her niece to where she knew her sister would be waiting.

  “Hi. Did you have fun?” Sally had just finished the breakfast dishes and was wiping her hands on a dish towel.

  “Not exactly.”

  “Jeffer!” Tommy squealed with delight and left his blue-and-yellow dump truck on the floor in his haste to greet her. Jen scooped him up and gave him a quick hug. His unexpected display of affection threatened the already fragile grip she had on her emotions. She pulled out a chair and sat at the kitchen table. Tommy lasted all of ten seconds on her knee before squirming to get back to his truck.

  “Where’s Jim?”

  “He’s at the office.”

  “On Saturday?”

  “Almost every Saturday.”

  Jen noted her sister’s resigned shrug with a pang. Perhaps her sister’s life wasn’t as idyllic as she had thought. Allison had found her mother’s leg, and was peering out at Jen with unblinking eyes.

  “Don’t change the subject.” Sally’s lips were pulled down in a frown. “What happened?”

  Guilt, heartache, anger, and frustration all battled across Jen’s features, each emotion struggling to dominate. She was cracking, nearly unable to contain herself. She glanced at Tommy, then at Allison, all too aware of the differences between herself and her sister. How could she be honest? And how could she have such a frank discussion in front of the kids?