Saxon Bennett - Talk of the Town

by Saxon Bennett

  Buffy sipped her martini and watched as an attractive young woman in a well-tailored gabardine suit strolled across the room. Buffy was about to begin her list of woes for wishing Mallory could be like that when the young woman sat at her table. Buffy was about to berate her for being rude by sitting down without so much as asking when she saw it was her daughter. She nearly fainted.

  “You have clothes on!”

  “They won’t let you in here naked,” Mallory said, pointing to her mother’s drink and signaling she’d desire the same to her favorite waitress, the one with flowing red hair and beautiful breasts.

  “Why do you have clothes on?” Buffy asked, beginning to feel panic that the dream she once wished for her daughter was coming true. But at what cost and what was instigating it?

  “Because I want to,” Mallory said, smiling at the waitress, who winked back.

  “You look very nice,” the waitress said.

  “As do you,” Mallory replied, almost flirting.

  Her mother noticed. “She’s not one of you people is she?”

  “Yes, Mother, she is a lesbian just like me.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I’ve seen her out,” Mallory said, taking a sip.

  “Out where?” Buffy asked, imagining sex clubs with big metal cages filled with scantily dressed women and chains and whips hanging around, and everything was dark and dirty.

  “At the book store, pride rallies, community picnics, and out dancing.”

  “I see,” Buffy said, studying the girl more closely. She didn’t look like a lesbian.

  “Did Dr. Kohlrabi get you back into clothes?” Buffy asked, starting her line of questioning with her most optimistic thoughts and desires.

  “Not exactly. She did make me realize a few things. Actually, she was quite shocked when I removed my pajamas and left her office in my underwear. But it just seemed like the moment of liberation was at hand. I realized that Caroline wasn’t giving me a thought so why should I be pining for her. I love Del, not Caroline.”

  “In love, leaving the shrink in your underwear, have you lost your mind?”

  “I thought that’s why I was going there in the first place. I’ve never felt more in control and totally normal than I do right now. Thanks Mom. Shall we order? I’m starving,” Mallory said, opening her menu. “I think I’ll have bangers and mash. How about you?”

  “I feel one of my migraines coming on. I’ll take a rain check on lunch.”

  “Sure,” Mallory said. “I’ll call Del maybe she can come down for lunch. See you.”

  Buffy Simpson drove home in a complete funk. She had half a mind to rip Dr. Kohlrabi a new rectal orifice. She wanted her daughter cured, not in love with another woman who was going to break her heart. Pajamas this time, what would next time bring? She furiously dialed her cell phone trying to get a hold of Gigi, who of course was not at home. She screeched in front of the Castle Boutique and backed up into the parking lot, causing quite a commotion on Camelback Avenue.

  “Hey, lady, can’t get your dildo fast enough?” someone screamed from a passing car.

  Buffy rolled her eyes at the mere suggestion but nonetheless she took a good look around before she got out of the car and slunk across the parking lot. She did three Hail Mary’s and begged God to please let her foray into sex and sin go unnoticed.

  “Now this is a sight,” Gigi said, nearly falling off the stool she was precariously balancing on as she hung up the latest fashion in leather hardware.

  “What is that?” Buffy asked before she could stop herself. She immediately regretted her question when Gigi attached the apparatus to her nether regions and demonstrated the item’s purpose.

  “Oh, my God,” Buffy said, blushing and then as if God was listening Reverend Carlyle came in the door.

  The look of panic on his face almost matched the mortified expression on Buffy Simpson’s face as clergy met congregation with Gigi demonstrating the use of a strap-on dildo. Gigi wished she had a camera because it was a truly a Kodak moment. In fact it gave her the idea to create a series of sacrilegious photographs.

  “Now this really is a sight. Actually, the good Reverend here has come to help me complete my long neglected course in Catechism,” Gigi said. “I’m not entirely sure what Buffy is here about but she wanted a demonstration on this handy little picker-upper,” Gigi said, giving the dildo a quick flick of her hand, turning the faces of the Reverend and Buffy immediately crimson.

  “Well, I should leave you to your work then, Gigi. Perhaps I can come back tomorrow when you’re not so busy,” Reverend Carlyle said, backing out door. “Buffy, I’ll see you in church on Sunday.”

  Buffy glared at Gigi. “You could have told him the real reason why I’m here.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Mallory. I’m here because of Mallory. She’s wearing clothes.”

  “That’s a good thing,” Gigi said, disguising her own sense of panic.

  “I want you to tell me about Del,” Buffy demanded.

  “I don’t know anything about her,” Gigi replied.

  “But you must. You’re Mallory’s best friend.”

  “All I know is that she works at Phoenix Baptist. Go see for yourself.”

  “You’re not being very helpful,” Buffy accused.

  “Mallory doesn’t talk about it. Maybe she’s ashamed. Del is a little different you know,” Gigi said, gaining momentum. By the time she was done with Buffy she had her convinced Del was a modern-day version of a lesbian Frankenstein.

  Buffy’s next stop before going home to dive into a pitcher of martinis was Phoenix Baptist Hospital. She had friends on the Board and if that Del woman was messing around with her daughter she’d see that she was fired just like that slutty little tennis instructor that she got out of Mallory’s life.

  She marched in to the information desk and demanded to see Del Farnsworth. Due to the fevered nature of her request, Del was immediately paged.

  Del walked down the hall to meet a woman who somehow looked vaguely familiar but she couldn’t place her. The receptionist pointed to the woman, who looked most anxious.

  “Can I help you?” Del asked.

  Buffy read her name tab and screeched, “You’re a doctor !”

  “Are you hurt?” Del asked, thinking the damage might not necessarily be in the physical sense but perhaps mental.

  “No, but I don’t want you to hurt my daughter,” Buffy blurted before she could stop herself.

  The vaguely familiar woman instantly registered in Del’s mind. She was Mallory’s mother.

  “I won’t hurt your daughter. I love her,” Del replied.

  “You do? And you are of sound mental health?” Buffy questioned.

  “Last time I checked,” Del replied.

  “Well, they don’t just let anybody be a doctor. You are a real doctor,” Buffy asked, looking at the receptionist for verification. “She is a real doctor, right?”

  The receptionist nodded.

  “Perhaps we could go to my office and talk,” Del suggested. No wonder Mallory was a little off. She evidently didn’t come from real strong stock, judging from the flighty nature of her mother.

  “As long as you’re a doctor. I didn’t know they had lesbian doctors,” Buffy said, as Del guided her down the hall.

  Mallory fingered the soft white petals of the calla lilies Del had sent her, while she talked on the phone.

  “You didn’t!”

  “I did. I told her they sent us lesbian doctors to a special school because it’s a known fact that lesbian people are anatomically different from the rest of the world.”

  “And she believed you?”

  “She thinks we’re smarter than most. I don’t know. I hope not. But we did have a good talk.”

  “I’ll say. You’re practically part of the family. It’s pretty scary.”

  “You’re not angry are you that she came to see me?” Del asked, wondering what her heart rate had jumped to.
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  “No. I just get tired of her making me out to be the victim. I’m not a victim. A martyr maybe, but I chose that. Caroline didn’t make me do all those things. I did. My mother needs to realize that I created who I am now and that I’m in control of who l become— regardless of who I sleep with.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way. You are doing what you do because of you and no one else. I respect that.”

  “Perhaps over dinner you could explain that to my mother. I’m sure we’ll both be invited very soon.”

  “So what do you look like in clothes?” Del asked.

  “Is this like the time you asked me what I slept in because I wear pajamas in the daytime?” Mallory teased, knowing she had mentioned the sleep together phrase, something that dangled about both their minds every time they were together.

  “I suppose it is,” Del replied, remembering the answer was nothing and how she had blushed envisioning Mallory without clothing.

  “Why don’t you come see,” Mallory suggested.

  “I just might.”

  “You know where I am.”

  Mallory went back to work until Gigi strolled in. Mallory looked up from her work and raised an eyebrow.

  “To what do I owe this amazing pleasure? It’s not often we get you into the pit of blue collar,” Mallory teased.

  “Your mother came to see me. She wanted to know about Del,” Gigi said, studying the flowers. She picked up the card and nodded, thinking it figures. Part of her was panicked that Mallory had found someone or rather someone had found her and the other part was jealous that she had once again let Mallory slip through her fingers.

  “She went to see her,” Mallory replied.

  “How did it go?”

  “She likes Del.”

  “Well, that’s a good thing isn’t it?”

  “I think so,” Mallory replied, trying to gauge where Gigi was going.

  “Do you think Del is interested in you sexually?”

  “I don’t know,” Mallory said, surprised.

  “I mean how long and drawn out is this courtship going to be? Or is it really only a friendship that you’re pretending is something else?” Gigi asked, sitting on the couch and patting the cushion next to her.

  Mallory obeyed like a well trained dog, only this was the first time she noticed it.

  “I suppose there is only one way to find out,” Mallory replied, studying Gigi’s face.

  “I suppose so. But do you really want to find out?” Gigi asked, taking Mallory’s hand. She gently stuck the forefinger of Mallory’s right hand in her mouth.

  Mallory blushed. “What are you doing?”

  “Presenting other options,” Gigi said.

  Guadalupe came in. “Excuse me. Mr. Garcia is here to meet with you. Shall I bring him in?”

  Mallory stood up and looked at Gigi. “Yes, tell him I’ll be right there.”

  “You look good in clothes,” Gigi said.

  “Thank you,” Mallory replied.

  “Alex is making pesto. Come by for dinner if Del has to work,” Gigi said.

  “I will. Del does have to work. She’s pulling a double.”

  “Great. See you at six,” Gigi said.

  Del finagled an hour between her back-to-backs. She drove to the warehouse, her heart dancing in her chest. She didn’t really know why, only that she had to see Mallory in clothes to fully understand what was happening between them. Guadalupe nodded her in as she was on the telephone.

  “You came. I wondered if you would,” Mallory said, getting up from her desk.

  Del took a seat on the couch. “I must say you look very handsome in your suit.”

  “Well thank you very much,” Mallory said, taking her jacket off and loosening her tie. She went to the door and gave Guadalupe a look indicating that she did not want to be disturbed and shut the door. She walked toward Del.

  “Gigi is convinced you don’t think of me sexually,” Mallory said, taking a deep breath and steeling herself for the next twenty seconds of her life.

  She straddled Del on the couch and gave her a most ardent kiss.

  “Is that true?” Mallory said.

  Del kissed her back, pulling her tighter. She untucked Mallory’s shirt and ran her hand up her slender sides and then pulled the small of her back toward her.

  “I didn’t think so,” Mallory said, in between kisses.

  “I was waiting for you,” Del said. “I wanted you to be ready. I didn’t want to push you.”

  “Are you scared?” Mallory asked.

  “Yes, very scared,” Del said, kissing Mallory’s neck.

  “Me too,” Mallory said, kissing Del’s forehead and eyes.

  The door swung open and Mr. and Mrs. Simpson stood in the doorway gaping.

  “I tried to stop them,” Guadalupe said, doing her best to beg pardon.

  “I’m her mother. I will not be trifled with by a mere underling,” Buffy said, glaring at Guadalupe.

  “This was not how I envisioned our first romantic moment,” Mallory whispered to Del.

  “Right now I wish I was invisible,” Del replied.

  “No, you don’t. You’d miss meeting Dad.”

  “Is this really happening?” Del said, trying to untangle herself from Mallory, who had no intentions of moving.

  “Well, darling, I see her in clothes and making moves on her girlfriend. Yes siree, I’d say she was healed,” Ralph Simpson said, grabbing his wife’s arm.

  “I’m not leaving until you meet Del and we all go and have a drink,” Buffy protested.

  “No, honey let’s let them be,” Ralph replied, taking his wife’s arm and physically removing her from the room.

  “Actually, I have to go back to work,” Del said, sliding out from underneath Mallory.

  “I’ll go,” Mallory said. “I think I could use a drink right now, a really big, cold one.”

  “Great,” Del said, walking over to Ralph, shaking his hand and then exiting the room, with a “Nice to see you” and a nod at Buffy, who smiled warmly which scared her because she’d just been caught in a compromising position with her daughter.

  “Call me later,” Mallory said, winking lasciviously.

  Del blanched, hoping later they could laugh about this moment.

  Dr. Kohlrabi was doing her best not to laugh while Mallory told her the story of how she attempted to seduce Del only to be interrupted by her parents. Mallory could tell she was amused by the involuntary curvature of her mouth that was not exactly a smile but rather an attempt to stave one off.

  “Has Del recovered from this episode?” Dr. Kohlrabi inquired.

  “She’s not gone frigid if that’s what you’re asking, at least not that I’m aware of. But we’re not doing it. I think that comes later.”

  “Why later?”

  “Prolong the foreplay I think. We’re probably both a little tentative and since we’ve been ignoring all the other lesbian rules and doing so well we should stick with this new form of lesbian emotional anarchy.”

  “Perhaps you could explain that particular term.”

  “It means avoiding the usual trappings of a lesbian love affair,” Mallory replied.

  “Which are?”

  “Eye contact, mutual checking out through secondary parties, talking, first kiss, sex, U-Haul, utopia, followed shortly by disillusion, disappointment, and subsequently break-up. You see the problem with lesbians is that once they’ve gone to bed they can’t get past each other. What should be one-night stands become relationships.”

  “And you and Del are not doing this?”

  “No. I actually like Del as a person first, as an intellectual, as a woman, as a future lover, in that order. For most lesbians the order is reversed.”

  “I see. Perhaps you could explain this to my daughter one day. I’m sure it is the same for straight people.”

  “I don’t know about straight people,” Mallory said.

  “What do you mean?” Dr. Kohlrabi asked, stunned by her response.
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  “How should I know about straight people? I’ve never been one. Why do you people always assume that straight is correct and dominant in human makeup? Your world looks upside down to me, absolutely incorrect in terms of orientation. I feel like the child that was raised by wolves. I live with them but I am not one of them, nor can I truly understand their way of looking at the world. Just because our straight parents raised us doesn’t automatically give us their insight, because we’re different from the start.”

  “So it’s an us/them dichotomy?”

  “Exactly. I don’t consider one side superior to another but distinctly different, and then there are those of us that are different within the perimeters of different.”

  “And that’s what you and Del are?”

  “Yes.”

  “How is the Republic these days?” Dr. Kohlrabi asked.

  “Happily unattended. Perhaps my real life has become more interesting.”

  “Do you miss it?” Dr. Kohlrabi inquired.

  “It’s not a matter of missing it; rather the images of the Republic do not pop up uninvited in order to cripple the host personality.”

  “Now that is truly progress.”

  “I thought your job was to get me dressed.”

  “That was your mother’s desire.”

  The house being painted the color of the human heart was progressing although Kim was still working on the second story. She’d taken some time off work because she found the task therapeutic, more so than working overtime. Del stood at the bottom of the ladder, concern etched in her face.

  “Aren’t you sick of doing that yet? Hire someone. This is a big house,” Del yelled up at Kim.

  “No, I like doing this. It’s makes me feel like I’m accomplishing something. In fact, I may just give up nursing and go in for house painting.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Come down and talk to me.”

  “If you insist,” Kim said, tramping down the long steel ladder.

  “You obviously don’t suffer vertigo,” Del said, getting jitters just looking up at the ladder.