Saxon Bennett - Talk of the Town

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by Saxon Bennett




  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Publications from BELLA BOOKS, INC.

  “I have to tell you something, something that Alex doesn’t know and shouldn’t know,” Gigi started. “Remember the party where Kim got really angry with Ollie and threw her out, well earlier that night something happened between Ollie and I, something . . . sexual, something more than a kiss. We were getting high in the van and next thing I know we were doing it. I was so nervous but I still did it and now I’m really scared that Alex is going to find out. It only happened that once and I regret it but I can’t undo the fact that I fucked another woman and that was what it was: fucking, pure and simple lust incarnate and now . . . now I don’t know what to do. What do you think I should do?”

  Silence.

  “It’s not like we were having an affair. It’s more like an isolated incident and believe me I’m not proud of it. Mallory?”

  Mallory rolled over and made murmuring noises. She’d been asleep the whole time.

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  Copyright © 2003 by Saxon Bennett

  Bella Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 10543

  Tallahassee, FL 32302

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Printed in the United States of America on acid-free paper

  First Edition

  Cover designer: Bonnie Liss (Phoenix Graphics)

  ISBN 1-931513-18-X

  Dedication

  To my beloved, amazing, and genius partner, Lin. Even though we have been together for eight million years, every day is a new adventure.

  Acknowledgments

  To the crazy friends that inspired me and helped create a world that is stranger than fiction. Some of this stuff no one would believe, but we did it and still survived. This includes Lulu, Drop Deck, Ritter and Lisa, I’m Not Interested, Parsons.

  About the Author

  Saxon has gone rural and really likes it. Having lived in the city most of my life this hanging out where the deer and the antelope play rocks. Sometimes the birds get noisy but they were here first. Lin and I live in the east mountains of New Mexico with our two furry children Gunter and Sarah. Gunter should be canonized as a lion cub with the patience of Job for putting up with his sister who is the lost princess of the wild tribe of calicos. We haven't told her that they aren’t really looking for her because she is such a handful. Animals are the best and we hope to have more. I recommend learning to drive a tractor and avoiding chiggers at all costs. Life in the land of enchanted mañana bull crap is never dull and I hope you all come to visit sometime.

  One

  Dr. Kohlrabi still found it disconcerting looking a patient in the eye when she was sitting in an upside down lotus position, cross-legged and balanced neatly on her head. The doctor had been treating Mallory Simpson for almost a year and she often wondered if the therapy was working or if Mallory was wasting both their time and her overly protective mother’s money. But there was something about Mallory that interested Dr. Kohlrabi more than her usual professional interest. She found herself contemplating the lives of Mallory and her friends, all of which Dr. Kohlrabi was highly acquainted with because they were intricately connected with Mallory.

  Dr. Kohlrabi had to suppress the urge as a straight woman not to make comparisons between her world and Mallory’s although she had begun to take some notes thinking that her insights might make a good paper for her next conference. God knows there was so little written on the lesbian that she was truly Freud’s dark continent. Dr. Kohlrabi thought about her own daughter who was Mallory’s age and how her life differed from Mallory’s life. The comparison was intriguing and definitely warranted further study.

  “So anyway I don’t think being attracted to Gigi is a good idea. She’s my friend and she has a partner who I think is absolutely incredible, I mean how could I hope to compare with Alex, who is stunning, good-looking, smart, has a career and is totally in love with her wife, I might add. So you’re a therapist and you cure things like this . . . right?” Mallory said, looking straight at Dr. Kohlrabi.

  “Your mother hired me to get you to wear clothes again which I have not been successful in doing,” Dr. Kohlrabi replied, once again noting Mallory’s unique sense of fashion, striped flannel pajamas with a shiny silk tie.

  “Do you like the tie?” Mallory said, holding it up for inspection.

  “Yes, it’s very nice,” Dr.Kohlrabi replied.

  “It’s a Picasso,” Mallory replied.

  “Why do you wear a tie with pajamas?” Dr. Kohlrabi asked, suddenly wondering why this had never crossed her mind before. Perhaps Mallory’s constant array of pajamas had distracted her.

  “It’s a power thing. I mean look at it. You see this woman, she’s in charge, she’s sitting behind a desk, she runs the show, she is a Sagittarius, the archer, arrow poised on the wire ready for action, half animal, half human waiting to rule the world, conquer any thing at any moment. She simply must wear a tie and it needs to be a power tie, a tie that says I know what I’m doing, I am the One. But just to give reality a slip she’s wearing flannel pajamas in the middle of the day with no bed in sight. Now that’s a picture,” Mallory replied with evident satisfaction.

  “Okay, would indulging your attraction to Gigi make you wear clothes?”

  “No, Gigi understands why I wear pajamas,” Mallory said, totally disgusted with Dr. Kohlrabi’s assumption that lusting after her best friend would have anything, whatsoever, to do with her sense of fashion.

  “But I thought you started your pajama episode when your one and only girlfriend left you, in the morning while you were wearing your pajamas?”

  “True and your point?” Mallory asked, sitting herself upright and brushing her shoulder length hair off her shoulder’s. This was known as a moot gesture.

  Dr. Kohlrabi fully understood its implications. In Mallory’s opinion she, the doctor, was behaving like an imbecile. Behaving stupidly was grounds for complete dismissal in the Republic of Mallory.

  When she first started treating Mallory Dr. Kohlrabi had seriously entertained the idea that perhaps Mallory was a schizophrenic, especially when Mallory described her Republic in complete detail with a governing set of laws, property rights and creative freedoms. Mallory made the Declaration of Independence seem tame as if mere schoolboys had written it.

  Later Dr. Kohlrabi withdrew from her initial notion of schizophrenia and came to her present state of mind; that being, that Mallory was overly bright and highly individualistic which made her a suspect in a world that carefully groomed homogeneity.

  “How long have you know Gigi?” Dr. Kohlrabi asked.

  “Since we were in the fifth grade. We met at Brownies. My mother was the group leader. Gigi’s mother marched her into our meeting kicking and screaming. She dumped Gigi in our midst and bid my mother make a lady of her. If you ever meet Gigi you will see what a terrible job my mother has done. Gigi is anything but ladylike.”

  “Tell me about her.”

  “Why?” Mallory asked, instantly suspicious.

  The good doctor refrained from saying because I’m yo
ur therapist dummy. She knew that would send Mallory right out the door.

  “So I can better understand why you’re attracted to her.”

  “Oh, well in that case. She’s . . . alive, I mean she’s vibrant and real, not like the rest of you saps. She feels things. She thinks the world is just as big a crock of shit as I do. She makes fun of the whole thing whereas I am known only for my ability to absorb misery acutely.”

  Dr. Kohlrabi nodded.

  “So you feel there are a lot of similarities between you?” Dr. Kohlrabi queried.

  “Not at all!” Mallory replied indignantly.

  “I thought with the world view perhaps.”

  Mallory rolled her eyes.

  “You couldn’t be farther from the truth. Here’s a poignant example of our differences. Gigi’s mother is a staunch Roman Catholic complete with bathtub shrines of the Virgin Mary. You can imagine what having a lesbian daughter must do for her maternal self-esteem. Do you think that Gigi suffers guilt? No, she rages. She desecrates the shrine, every shrine she comes upon. She is in a constant state of rebellion. What do I do? I go to therapy because my mother pleads with me. That is the difference between our world views.”

  “I see.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Until next time,” Dr. Kohlrabi.

  “If there is one,” Mallory replied.

  Gigi and Mallory sat on the old couch alongside the canal by a dirt road that stretched across Phoenix following the intricate canal system. They oftentimes imagined the canals of Amsterdam that they had once walked along on a summer trip to Europe. If you blurred your eyes and gazed at the reflections bouncing off the water’s surface you could almost pull it off. Gigi had tried to explain the method to her girlfriend Alex but to no avail.

  But Alex did not understand why they sat on a dirty couch they’d rescued from a dumpster and pretended to fish with children’s play rods complete with plastic fish attached to the end. It was perfectly understandable that playing imaginary travel games wasn’t Alex’s scene either. Not that it mattered because in Mallory, Gigi had found her kindred spirit.

  “A mentor?” Gigi said, sneering.

  Mallory nodded. She threw a pebble into the canal. She couldn’t see the rings it made in the water, she could only hear the plunk as earth met liquid.

  “How long have I known you?” Gigi asked.

  “Since we were ten,” Mallory replied, hearing Dr. Kohlrabi’s words shuffling around in her head. Don’t you think it kind of odd that you’ve known Gigi most of your life and all of a sudden you find yourself in love with her?

  “We’ve known each other for too long for such a thing to happen. You need to get a new therapist,” Gigi said, reeling in her fish and casting it out again.

  “I think you’re right,” Mallory said, stepping into the Republic and feeling the garden corner of her emotional landscape shrivel and die. She was standing once again in the black forest of her oblivion, a lone character on the edge of burnt out forest. If Gigi thought mentoring was disgusting, a torrid love affair was out of the question.

  Gigi looked at her askance. “You know you’re my best friend.”

  “I know,” Mallory said, leaning on Gigi’s shoulder. It was the gentle rebuke Mallory had suffered a thousand times whenever things threatened to get mushy between them. Gigi turned into a frat boy and Mallory diligently buried her true feelings.

  Alex came out the back gate from their yard to find her girlfriend engaged in one of her usual pursuits.

  “It’s a good thing you two have known each other for so long or I might be inclined to think you were having an affair,” Alex teased.

  “You doubt my fidelity, oh my sweet damsel I would never tarnish the beauty of our union with anything so turgid as mere lust,” Gigi said, dropping to one knee and kissing Alex’s hand.

  “You would have made a perfect Cavalier Poet,” Alex said.

  “The Cavaliers were full of shit,” Gigi replied.

  “Exactly,” Alex said. “Ollie called. She wants to know if we’re doing anything this weekend. They’re planning a barbecue.”

  “I’m going to see Aunt Lil this weekend,” Gigi replied, trying to keep her voice even and her pulse from racing. Every time she thought of Ollie strange things happened to her body.

  “I forgot. It’s that time again. The pilgrimage to Yarnell,” Alex said, attempting to disguise the animosity she felt over losing her girlfriend for yet another weekend.

  “You could come,” Gigi offered.

  “You don’t want me to come,” Alex said. “Besides this way I can take Mallory to the barbecue instead. I’m sure she’s got a pair of pajamas with grill utensils on them.”

  “Mallory wouldn’t be caught dead at a potluck,” Gigi challenged.

  “How do you know? You never invite her,” Alex replied, sitting next to Mallory.

  “Mallory will you go the party with me?” Alex asked running a finger through the one of her long blond tendrils and batting her eyelashes.

  Mallory blushed bright crimson.

  “Leave her alone. She doesn’t like those guys and I’m the only one who understands her peculiar ways. It would be awkward.”

  “I’ll take care of her and stop talking about her like she isn’t here,” Alex said.

  “Do you want to go?”

  Mallory looked acutely uncomfortable but curiosity got the better of her. She did want to see what Gigi found so engaging about these women, and Ollie in particular. For a moment she was back in the Republic standing on the edge of a threatening crevasse imagining that she could jump and spread her carpetlike wings.

  “I could try,” she said quietly as the wind currents of the Republic gently floated her toward the ground, depositing her safely.

  “See there, I’ll make her a practicing lesbian yet!” Alex said, jumping up.

  “Where are you going?” Gigi asked as Mallory did the same.

  “Shopping. I need to find some pajamas that fit the occasion,” Mallory said.

  “Why don’t you go with her? I still have some paperwork to finish before dinner,” Alex said.

  “I don’t want to go. I have to things to do before I go. Besides I refuse to be part of this vileness,” Gigi said, stomping off.

  “Why is she mad?” Mallory asked.

  “I don’t think she likes sharing you,” Alex replied.

  Mallory sat in her new party outfit talking to Dr. Kohlrabi who was extremely surprised that Mallory was attending the party.

  “I just don’t understand why knowing someone for a long time is a bad thing. Why can’t we fall in love? I like Gigi best. I have known her so long now that we have no illusions about each other and we’ve had all the arguments we could possibly have in one lifetime. Look at this picture,” Mallory said, poking the photo at Dr. Kohlrabi.

  It was a photograph of four little girls at Mallory’s birthday party.

  “Tell me the look on Gigi’s face is not love,” Mallory declared.

  “Mallory, you were twelve. I’m certain since then Gigi has been single once or twice. Surely you’ve had opportunities,” Dr. Kohlrabi replied, looking at Mallory over the top of her dark rimmed glasses.

  “There was never a right time. She’s a serial monogamist.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Dr. Kohlrabi asked.

  “You’re not a lesbian, are you?” Mallory said, narrowing her eyes.

  “No, nor have I ever pretended to be one,” Dr. Kohlrabi declared.

  “Perhaps that’s our problem,” Mallory said, sitting upright permanently this time.

  “Why would me not being a lesbian be a problem? I am a professional. I’m certified to treat anyone . . . even lesbians.”

  “It’s not the same. Maybe Gigi is right. I should get a new therapist.”

  “Why don’t you just explain what serial monogamy is instead,” Dr. Kohlrabi suggested, wondering if this would be another one of those times when Mallory disappeared for a while only to
return frantic with some new catastrophe.

  “I’m not sure I can.”

  “Try.”

  “Well, it means that women like Gigi don’t stay single for long. They leave one partner or are left and then shortly find another and they stay together for years. The opposite of this would be women that date.”

  “Are they settling for someone so they don’t have to be alone?”

  “No. I think they are basically people who are smart enough to know that you’ll never find a perfect lover so they make what they have work. Does that make sense?”

  “Yes. That was a very good explanation. Thank you. Will I see you on Thursday?” Dr. Kohlrabi asked.

  “If not before, depending on how the barbecue goes. You know what I like about our relationship?”

  “No.”

  “I like that it’s timed.”

  “I see,” Dr. Kohlrabi replied, pushing her glasses back up her nose.

  “It has a beginning, an end and basic agenda to operate under. I wish my life was like that.”

  “No, you don’t. You’d find it boring. Surprises are good things and someday you will cherish them.”

  “Cherish?” Mallory said, grimacing.

  “I’ll see you on Thursday if not before.”

  Mallory sat on the bed in Gigi’s room and watched her pack. She was seriously trying to overlook the fact that for Gigi packing meant shoving whatever she could find that was clean into a duffel bag. Gigi’s lack of neatness had always concerned Mallory. She planned on retraining her when Gigi finally realized she was madly in love with her. Mallory was certain that Gigi’s unorganized life had to do with not being Mallory. She thought of her own well-organized closets and inwardly sighed with relief.

  “You don’t have to go,” Gigi said, eyeing Mallory with evident suspicion.

  “Don’t you want me to go?” Mallory countered.

 

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