Gitana did not possess the defeatism of others. "What kind of stuff do you want to write?"
"I want to write lesbian novels." Chase put more cream in her coffee so she wouldn't have to meet Gitana's gaze.
"Do you have an idea for one?" Gitana took the cream away and touched her hand. "I'll share my dream if you share yours, completely."
"I've written two novels—both stunk."
"Who told you that?" Gitana asked.
"The editor who said I wrote like an eighth-grader with overactive hormones."
Gitana laughed.
Surprisingly, this did not upset Chase who was usually quite sensitive about her secret longing for a literary career. Gitana's laughter seemed to sparkle and Chase felt heartened by it rather than ashamed of her confession.
"So what did you do?"
"I took her advice and wrote another one. I sent it in and I'm waiting for another rejection notice, but this one is better than the last one. I took out a lot of the melodrama that I gravitated toward in my first novel."
"That's awesome."
Chase sipped her coffee and eyed her companion. "So what's your dream?"
"I'll show you."
They went to Gitana's studio apartment near the University. It seemed everyone Chase knew lived around the campus, except for her—she still lived at home in her mother's pretentious house. She avoided taking people there if she could.
Gitana's apartment had a futon bed in the middle of the room, a tiny kitchenette painted sky blue which Chase thought was an odd color for a kitchen, and large south facing windows covered with precariously constructed open-sided wooden shelves that contained weird plants that Chase had never seen before. The room looked like a jungle and smelled like paradise. Puzzled, she looked at Gitana.
"They're orchids. I want to have a nursery and grow orchids."
"They're beautiful." Chase gently stroked a petal. It was soft and looked so fragile like the slightest breeze would send the whole plant, pot and all, back to the jungles of the Amazon.
"So are you," Gitana said. She had her cornered.
"Well, you know I didn't really have anything to do with that—genetic punch bowl is more like it." Chase attempted to inch away without appearing rude.
Gitana put her arm up against the wall, effectively blocking Chase's escape. "Why are you making this so hard?"
"Making what hard?" Chase was thoroughly confused.
"This." Gitana kissed her. "I want you so bad it hurts."
Chase immediately broke all her rules of engagement. She kissed her back, ran her fingers through Gitana's long dark hair, let herself be pushed onto the bed, her T-shirt and shorts removed, her stomach kissed and her legs opened so Gitana could bite, suck and fuck her until she made animal noises and cried out for more. It was almost embarrassing thinking about it now. From that moment on Gitana coursed through her veins and nothing else mattered.
As they walked the grounds, Gitana tugged at her hand. "What were you thinking about?"
Chase promptly returned to the present moment. "I was remembering you as a Casanova the first time we were together."
"I wasn't being slick. I was so consumed with you I couldn't breathe. I thought I would die if you didn't let me touch you. You were tough to get."
"True love is never an easy target."
Gitana scooped her up and kissed her hard.
Chase suddenly wished they were at home so they could fall into each other's arms and make animal noises. Instead, she whispered, "I have never wanted anyone the way I want you."
Chase's moment of marital bliss was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. She was certain it was Graciela and she thought her a bit rude for breaking up their moment. She turned around.
A large but decidedly handsome woman with dark cropped hair and buff arms, said, "I thought it was you."
Chase quickly realized who she was and blanched. This was the woman who'd been waiting for her the night she fell in love with Gitana. She'd come home late to find Tori sitting in her sleek black Saab outside the house. Chase sat in the front seat of the car smelling of orchids and sex trying to explain to Tori that she'd found the love of her life.
"Well, at least you two are still together. That counts for something, considering you broke my heart and caused severe psychological damage," Tori said.
"Who's she?" Gitana asked equally piqued.
"This is Tori." Chase studiously avoided Tori's angry glance and looked helplessly at Gitana. The thought crossed her mind that Tori had somehow discovered Gitana's identity because Chase had never told Tori who she was. She found this disturbing.
"You know, for years I've been thinking about how you cheated on me."
"I can't see where I was worth all that," Chase said. Tori hadn't crossed her mind a day after they broke up. Obviously, there'd been a difference of opinion on the nature of their relationship. She did remember standing outside Tori's office—she was a TA in Chase's Jane Austen seminar—telling Tori that she'd get tired of her and Tori staring hard at her with the look of serious love. "No, I won't."
"My therapist says I need closure, so I got a little present for you."
Chase was horribly confused until Tori, a substantial butch, nailed Chase in the solar plexus. She fell to the ground and rolled on her side. This position rendered her vulnerable to another attack She closed her eyes so she wouldn't see the size ten Doc Marten coming at her ribs. She'd heard broken ribs took a long time to heal and that the process was painful. She'd never actually had the shit kicked out of her although there'd been times she'd deserved it. She figured her past had found her and was exacting retribution.
She heard Graciela and Delia screaming and she opened her eyes to see a burly Hispanic woman, dressed in black commando gear and a security badge, pluck Tori up and prevent further damage. Graciela dashed out a quick right hook that would have decked Tori had the guard not grabbed her first.
"Hey, that's enough of that," the security guard said.
"What the fuck! She beat up my sister un-in-law."
"Yeah, and she's going to get charged with assault." She put cuffs on the infuriated Tori and marched her off, Tori glaring back at Chase. "First Aid," the security guard called out and pointed to Chase.
Gitana knelt beside her and peered anxiously at her. "Are you all right?"
"I think so." She'd caught her breath and got up on her knees.
A young woman with purple hair came running over toting a first-aid kit. "Are you bleeding?"
"No, just lost my wind. I'm fine, really."
Graciela and Delia helped her up. "Let's go to the first-aid tent and let them have a look at you," Gitana said.
"No," Chase protested. "I'm okay."
"Let me check for broken ribs," the young woman said, running her hands along Chase's sides. "Nope, you're good."
"Great. Well, thanks and we'll be on our way now," Chase said, trying to untangle herself from Graciela and Delia.
"Are you sure you're all right?" Gitana asked.
"I fine, really."
"Dude, you just got decked. I gotta show you some moves. I'm like, a green belt in Karate," Delia said.
"You never told me that," Graciela said. She let go of Chase.
"Well, you look like you have a pretty mean hook," Delia said.
"Nah, just schoolyard tactics." Graciela kicked the grass.
"Let's get her to a table," Gitana said.
"Maybe I do need a beer now," Chase said.
"I'm on it," Delia said, making for the beer tent.
The burly Hispanic security guard came back over. "No life threatening damage?"
"Aside from my pride, no." Chase dusted off her shirt.
"Sorry about that, usually I'm right there, but I didn't see that one coming. Normally, there's an argument first before punches fly. That was low. Who was she?"
"An ex-girlfriend."
"I can see why. I'd keep a lookout for any others." She adjusted her belt.
; "I will and thank you," Chase said.
"No problem." She made off.
They found the nearest table with an umbrella and sat down. Delia returned with provisions, three Coors Light in plastic cups and a lemonade for Gitana. Graciela watched the security guard as she made her rounds.
"Man, she's tight. If I was a femme I'd be all over that," she said.
"Damn right," Delia said. She set everything down.
Chase took a big swig of beer. She was beginning to understand her mother and her martinis.
"What did you do to make her so mad?" Gitana asked. She brushed more dirt off Chase's shoulder. Her white T-shirt had an ochre tint to it.
"I slept with you."
"You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend."
"We broke up the minute you kissed me." Chase took another enormous swig. Her nerves were settling.
"Dude, who's the Casanova now," Graciela said.
Chase scowled at her. She could tell Gitana wasn't pleased that she'd left out this particular detail of her life.
"It's kind of like how I didn't know about Nora until she had me off the floor with her hands around my neck," Chase said.
"Oh, good, the story improves," Delia said.
"I'll say," Graciela said, as she and Delia toasted their paper beer cups.
"You do have a point there," Gitana said. She sipped her lemonade and seemed to ponder this.
"Remember what you told Nora, about how when you meet your soul mate it's a once in a lifetime event and if you pass it by it's lost forever?"
"Yes." Gitana stroked Chase's cheek.
"Wow, that's deep," Delia said. Her admiration and enlarged libido were evident.
Chase gave her a look.
"I know, she's yours."
Gitana took Chase's hand. "Are you sure you're all right? We could call it a day."
"What and miss meeting more of her ex-girlfriends," Graciela said.
Delia looked at Gitana. "Are any of your ex-girlfreinds as pissed off?"
"No, Nora is one of my best friends and she adores Chase."
Graciela yawned in mockery.
"What about the others?" Delia asked. She sipped her beer and peered at Gitana over the top of the cup.
"They were temporary liaisons without much emotional attachment."
"So pretty much one-night stands and fuck buddies," Graciela said.
"I wouldn't put it that way. It was more like young women exploring each other's bodies in a physical way," Gitana replied.
"Gag me," Graciela said. She turned to watch another exquisite example of womankind walk by.
"How about you, Chase?" Delia said.
"What is this, confession time?" Chase finished her beer.
"I'll get you another one," Graciela said, hopping up.
Chase glanced at Gitana.
"I'll drive home. I can still fit behind the steering wheel."
Graciela dashed off to the beer tent. "No telling stories until I get back."
Chase scanned the crowd looking for potential hazards. Gitana noticed. "How many others do we have to look out for?"
"At least three."
"That's the problem with Pride. Your past keeps popping up," Delia said.
Graciela came back with another round. Chase slipped a twenty in her pocket.
"Thanks, dude. So confess."
"Do I have to?" Chase sipped her beer and avoided the eyes fixed upon her.
A unanimous "Yes," was the response.
"All right, I guess I have to. I'll make it short. I was a freak magnet. I wasn't the pursuer."
"You were the fish," Graciela said. "Not a good position. So, sis put the moves on you."
"Pretty much."
"Nice work." She patted Gitana on the back.
"We know that part. Who was your first, second and third?" Delia said.
"You know, that's one of the pitfalls of hanging out with another writer, you probe."
"You were the one that brought up cannibalization which requires a lot of material." Delia reminded her.
"What the hell? Is that something kinky like in The Hunger?" Graciela asked, turning around yet again to check out a girl wearing a thong and pasties.
"You're going to throw out your neck if you keep doing that," Gitana said. She poured her leftover ice from her first lemonade into her second. The day had grown hot as summer slowly made its way forward.
"No, it's a writing term, smut-head," Chase informed her.
"Anyway, back to the subject at hand," Delia said.
"All right, back to my sordid past. It's comprised of three psychopaths. The first was Janet. She was on my soccer team when I was sixteen—up to that point I had no interest in boys and successfully avoided all school dances. Lacey had told me enough about blow jobs, sweaty humping and spooge that I was steering clear of sex."
"Okay, we got that part. Get to the juicy stuff," Graciela said. She took a quick peek at a tall black woman in a tight dress.
"Janet seduced me in my bedroom when we were supposed to be studying geometry. She pinned me down, kissed and banged me until I couldn't breathe or see straight."
"You weren't straight anymore," Gitana said.
"Good thing for you," Graciela said.
"We spent a lot of study time doing this which is probably why I suck at math." Chase sipped her beer and felt pensive. She was glad she was gay.
"She does suck at math," Gitana said.
"It was orgasms or equations."
"Enough math, go on," Delia said.
"Your impatience is why your writing lacks appropriate pacing. All you want to do is get to the end," Chase said.
"I know," Delia replied.
"Back to my story—my mother found us in a compromising position."
"Sucking face or booty?" Graciela said.
"That's disgusting," Gitana said, slapping Graciela on the shoulders, spilling her beer.
"Hey, watch it. This stuff is precious manna."
"Especially at four dollars a cup," Delia said.
"So which was it?" Graciela asked.
"The latter," Chase said.
"Rock on, dude," Delia said.
"My mother hauled us both into the living room. I was certain I was headed to military school and then I remembered there'd be lots of girls there. I was almost relieved because Janet entertained thoughts of us spending the rest of our lives together, right down to buying kitchen utensils."
"Then what happened?" Gitana asked, now seeming as eager as the others.
"My mother, in her usual cunning fashion, told us to keep our mouths shut and conduct ourselves discreetly."
"That was it?" Gitana seemed amazed.
"Stella is all about appearance and she's not horribly interested in adolescent sexuality."
"And then?" Graciela prodded.
"Enter liaison number two—not technically a girlfriend."
"A fuck buddy," Delia said, looking mournfully into her empty cup. Graciela took it and poured half of hers into it.
"I guess you could call it that," Chase said. She looked apologetically at Gitana.
"Don't worry. I had a few. You're supposed to do that so later on you can be a stable and monogamous partner," Gitana said.
The beer cart appeared.
"Hey, over here," Graciela called out.
The bare-chested, tight-jean-clad blond man smiled and came over. "Yes?"
"We need a round except for the fat lady." She indicated Gitana. "Do you have water?"
"Yes." He pulled a bottle of Dasani and handed it to her.
"I'm not fat yet," Gitana said, giving Graciela another good smack in the arm.
Chase waved off Delia and Graciela's attempt to pay. "I got it covered."
"Cool, thanks, man." Graciela sipped her fresh beer, leaving a trace of a foam mustache.
"Back to the story," Delia said.
Chase took a sip of beer and then resumed. She was feeling better by the moment. Beer—the true anesthetic. Tomorrow woul
d be an entirely different affair.
Family Affair Page 9
