Corbin's Bend Homecoming

by Ruth Staunton

  “Good,” Quincy said, flashing her an easy smile. “It’s really casual. I think you’ll enjoy it. I know they’re going to love you.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Norah asked.

  Quincy shook her head, giving Norah an askance look. “You really don’t know do you?” Then, before Norah had a chance to figure out what she was talking about, she went on. “Aside from the fact that you’re a total sweetheart, you sell books. To a group of people who like to read, you’re the equivalent of our local drug dealer.”

  For a moment, all Norah could do was stare. Then, she burst out laughing. “Quincy!” she spluttered, equal parts amused and horrified. “That’s not a very flattering comparison.” It wasn’t, but since she couldn’t stop grinning, she doubted Quincy was going to worry about it overmuch.

  Quincy shrugged, completely unrepentant. “It’s true.”

  Being a lifelong bibliophile herself, Norah couldn’t really argue. She understood the book addiction quite well. She didn’t suffer from it though; she quite enjoyed it. “Does the group always meet at Venia’s or does it rotate?” she asked before Quincy could come up with anything else outrageous to say.

  “This one has always met at Venia’s,” Quincy replied. “The mixed group meets in the community center. I thought our group might have to find another place to meet when Venia married Jeff. I wasn’t sure she would want to continue hosting with them being newlyweds, but she never even mentioned changing the arrangement, and Jeff doesn’t seem to mind making himself scarce for an afternoon once a month.”

  “It’s good he understands,” Norah said. She had hosted any number of dinners and workgroups for John’s colleagues over the years. It was an expected part of academic life. She hadn’t minded it. It had simply been something she could do to support her husband and his job, but she couldn’t imagine how he might’ve reacted if the situation had been reversed. She doubted he would have been as agreeable to voluntarily vacating the premises for the afternoon as Venia’s husband seemed to be. He had been very particular about their home, and there had been high standards as to who and what had been allowed in it. “I had thought about offering space at the bookstore for community events like that once it is up and running,” she went on, “but unfortunately, the building doesn’t really lend itself to having private space, other than in the office, and I’m not sure how something like book club would work in what’s essentially a public space.”

  “It’s a nice thought,” Quincy told her, “and perhaps it would work as a backup location if something ever happened with Venia, but I think keeping it private is probably best. Often, our book club meetings turn out to be part book club, part TIH support group, so it needs to be somewhere where everyone can feel comfortable to talk openly. I’m not sure an open, semi-public space would work for that.”

  Norah nodded. “I suspected as much. I’ll think on it, maybe if it was an after hours thing so that only people who were part of the group were allowed in the store, it would work better. Not that I’m trying to take over what someone else is already doing. That’s not it at all. I just want the store to be open and available for community events as well.”

  “It’s a good idea,” Quincy agreed, “and hosting it after hours would probably work if we ever needed it as a backup. As far as being open to the community, I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about that. There are several professional writers who live here and I think once they realize you’re willing to host events, you’re going to have more to do then you can handle. Not to mention that we have our own school system. I think the high school and middle school teachers are going to be thrilled to have another resource for books. The schools have small libraries, and our schools are well-funded, especially in comparison to the public schools, but I know a few of them like to teach with novels and such and will be thrilled not to be limited to what the school already owns. You’re not going to be short of customers, trust me.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Norah told her.

  “I am,” Quincy told her smugly. “You’ll see.”

  They reached Venia’s shortly thereafter. It was obvious there was something going on by the number of cars gathered around the house. Not to mention, there were a few more people walking up behind them. Quincy rapped perfunctorily on the door and then walked in without waiting for anybody to answer. Norah followed uncertainly, but no one seemed surprised. Several people called out greetings. Norah recognized Jonathon, whom she had met several times during the process of moving here. She vaguely recognized a few other people from having seen them around but couldn’t have identified them.

  “Norah!” Jonathon called out. “Come on over. I’m glad you found your way here. I was hoping you would come.”

  “Quincy invited me,” Norah explained, making her way cautiously over to where he was sitting. “I hope it’s okay that I just show up.”

  “Of course,” Jonathon said. “We’re open to anyone who identifies on the TIH side of things who wants to attend so you definitely qualify. Don’t worry if you haven’t read the book. It’s fine just to hang out for now.”

  “I have read it actually,” Norah said. “Quincy told me what you all were reading so I picked it up.”

  “That’s great too,” Jonathon replied. “It will be good to have your perspective on things. After a while, those of us who are regulars get to know each other pretty well. That’s not a bad thing. It’s one of my favorite things about the group actually, but it’s also good to get new faces from time to time. Let me introduce you to some people. “

  He turned and waved to a woman with reddish blonde hair and striking bright blue eyes. . “Dina, come meet Norah. She’s the one who’s opening the bookstore.”

  Dina turned immediately in their direction, eyes lighting up like a child at Christmas. “Hi, I’m Dina Minor. I’m so glad to meet you,” she said. “I can’t wait for the bookstore to be opened. I’ve been waiting on pins and needles since we first found out we were getting a bookstore.”

  Norah smiled. “I hope I can live up to your expectations.”

  “I don’t see how you could possibly not,” Dina told her. “Our little community library leaves a lot to be desired. When are you hoping to open?”

  That was a mind-boggling thought. She hadn’t even gotten everything done she wanted to do with her apartment, much less with the store. “I’m hoping for some time in November,” Norah replied. “I’d like to be open in time to take advantage of the holiday shopping season, but that’s a long way away at this point. I just signed off on the initial plans with the contractor a few days ago. We have barely gotten started.”

  “Of course,” Dina said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to overwhelm you. I’m just excited.”

  “I appreciate your enthusiasm,” Norah told her. “It means a lot that people are excited and looking forward to my opening. I’m just still trying to get my feet under me.”

  “Are you settling in okay?” Jonathon asked. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

  “I don’t think so,” Norah said slowly, considering. “So far, everyone has been great. Quincy and Abby have even volunteered to help me paint Friday night.”

  “Feel free to join in if you are so inclined,” Quincy said, coming up to join them.

  “I’d be glad to,” Jonathon said, “but unfortunately, paint fumes and I don’t mix. They can trigger one of my migraines, and Ben would not be happy with me if that happened.”

  Quincy nodded sympathetically. “It’s probably best you don’t then. We wouldn’t want you making yourself sick.”

  “I’m in,” Dina said enthusiastically. “I think Brandon said something about going to play pool with someone anyway.”

  Jonathon nodded. “Several guys have been talking about that this week. I think someone has organized an informal tournament.”

  “Probably Harris,” Quincy said dryly. “Since he has cut back on his tournaments, he’s been looking for other ways to satisfy his competitive
streak.”

  “I can imagine it would be hard for him,” Jonathon said. “The others won’t even let him play in the pickup poker games anymore. His professional experience gives him too much of an advantage.”

  “Meaning they got tired of him beating the pants off of them,” Dina said knowingly.

  “True,” Jonathon conceded. “I’m told Harris still comes and watches though. He won’t play but he critiques everyone else’s skills.”

  Dina laughed. “I bet they just love that.”

  Jonathon flashed her a sly grin, matching her dry tone with his own. “Absolutely.” Then, he gathered himself together. “I’ll introduce you to the others later,” he told Norah, “but we better get started, or we could be here gossiping all night.”

  To Norah’s complete surprise, once the more formal discussion started, gossip died down to a minimum. Though they clearly enjoyed each other’s company, the book discussion wasn’t simply a cover to allow them all to get together and gossip. They were genuinely interested in talking about the book. In all honesty, Norah enjoyed the discussion more than she enjoyed the book. The book they were currently reading was the latest by a fairly well known author in the BDSM genre. Norah had, of course, heard of the books before. She would’ve practically had to have been living under a rock not to have heard of it, but having read one of the author's books years ago before the books became the latest hot commodity and not having been impressed, Norah hadn’t bothered to read any of the latest series. She had been hopeful when Quincy mentioned they were reading the newest book in the series that newfound popularity meant the books had improved. After all, they couldn’t be that bad if they were wildly popular, could they?

  Apparently they could. Norah had been no more impressed with this book than she had the last. Still, it would be interesting to see what the others had to say about it. How did people from a community who actually lived a DD lifestyle feel about the books?

  Not all that different from Norah, as it turned out. “Remind me why we decided to read this book again?” a black haired woman across the room asked when the floor was open for discussion. “Most of us hated the last one. What made us think this one would be any better?”

  “Curiosity, I think,” someone replied from Norah’s right. “We wanted to see what all the hype was about.”

  “I don’t know about the rest of you,” the black haired woman went on, “but I still don’t know what all the hype is about. Frankly, I’m amazed anyone convinced a publisher to print it, much less the fact that it became as popular as it has.”

  “I have to agree with Char,” the woman Jonathon had introduced as Dina put in. “It didn’t seem to have much of a plot. What passed as plot seemed more like a flimsy excuse to tack a bunch of sex scenes together.”

  “And a lot of them were incredibly unrealistic,” a blond man spoke up. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m as much of a fan a kinky sex scene as anybody, but some of that stuff bordered on being harmful, not to mention medically unsafe. It’s probably a good thing Jack wasn’t home when I got to the whole drawn out punishment sex part.” He gave a rather sheepish look. “He probably wouldn’t have appreciated my throwing the book across the room.”

  “That was about the point Ben took it away from me,” Jonathon admitted. “He ended up scanning the rest of the book and marking places for me to skip before he would give it back to me.”

  “That was the worst of it,” the woman called Char agreed, “but even the milder parts weren’t that great. The erotic spanking parts were okay, but the ones that were supposed to be discipline...”

  “You’ve got that right,” a petite blonde woman told her. “Anyone who thinks real discipline is supposed to be some sexy scene where everyone gets all turned on has never met my husband, and they certainly have no idea what it means to be on the receiving end of a real punishment.”

  A murmur of agreement echoed throughout the room. “I don’t disagree,” someone else piped up, “but aren’t books supposed to be fantasy. I mean, the fantasy of being punished is hot. Aren’t books supposed to be just that, fantasy?”

  “Maybe,” Char conceded. “It’s true that all fiction requires some suspension of disbelief, but there’s a difference between willing suspension of disbelief and being beyond all reasonable believability. To me, this crosses the line. When it’s so far out there that I actually lose my train of thought while I’m reading it because I’m thinking, you’ve got to be kidding me, that’s more than just fantasy.”

  “It’s pretty obvious that this writer hasn’t ever really done any of the things, at least in terms of the lifestyle, that are depicted in this book,” Venia said. “I’m not even sure there was any decent research behind this book. A thorough Internet search could tell some of this stuff is unsafe.”

  “Hey, Venia,” the blonde woman called out, “maybe you should consider teaching a writing class on how to write realistic spanking romance. You know how to do it right.”

  Venia grinned. “You’re the teacher, Lainie, not me. I wouldn’t have a clue how to teach anyone to do what I do. Maybe one day when we both retire we will team up on it.”

  “That’s a deal,” the other woman laughed.

  The discussion continued in much the same manner until Venia, who was leading this week’s discussion, finally called a halt to it. Before they headed into the kitchen to enjoy the snacks Lainie had provided, Char spoke up, “Can we please agree not to read this author again?”

  Most of the group agreed immediately, though there were a few dissenting voices who didn’t think it was that bad and wanted to keep their options open. In the end, Venia, in her capacity as discussion leader, called for a vote. It was decided to remove the author’s books from the choices for discussion for the time being. There was some grumbling from one or two dissenters, until Char snapped and informed them, “If you want to read that drivel, you can do it on your own without subjecting the rest of us to it.” That shut down most of the grumbling quickly. Norah heard a few more mumbled comments, but they were done extremely quietly and far out of Char’s earshot.

  “We haven’t scared you off, have we?” Dina asked, when they were standing together in the kitchen munching on brownies.

  “Not at all,” Norah replied, surprised. “I’m enjoying myself. Frankly, I’m glad to know that the rest of you hated that book as much as I did.”

  Dina laughed. “You were pretty quiet once we started talking about the book. I wondered what you thought of it all. We usually do a better job of actually discussing what happens in the book, but that’s hard to do for a book with no plot. Don’t let the squabbling bother you either.”

  Norah raised an eyebrow. “If you call that squabbling, I need to introduce you to some of the women I used to know. When my husband was alive, I’ve seen “academic discussions” so heated I swore they would end in blood, or at the very least broken crockery when someone threw a teacup at another’s head.”

  “Did that ever happen?” Dina asked, still laughing.

  “Not at my house,” Norah said, “but I heard they once had to break up a fight at the history department Christmas party. It seems a particular professor’s wife found out he had something going on the side with one of his junior colleagues and went after her.”

  “Why do women do that?” Dina wondered. “What’s the point of going after the other woman? Both of them should have ganged up and gone after him. He was the one playing with both of them.”

  “Good point,” Norah agreed.

  “I know what you mean about academics though. I’m a chemist. I work in research now, but I did my share of time rattling around the academic world until I got my degree, and the research world isn’t always all that different. The politics of it can be brutal. I don’t think most people understand that. I certainly wasn’t prepared for it.”

  “I was never really in the middle of it. It was my husband’s world, not mine, but I don’t miss it. To tell the truth, I’m glad to be out of it. I wi
ll happily run my little bookshop and stay far away from it. I’m not a fan of conflict.”

  “Aside from these fairly small differences of opinion, we don’t have a lot of that kind drama around here. If it gets out of hand, word will get back to the HoH’s pretty quickly. That’s usually the end of it. If it got really bad—and I’ve heard it has a few times—it might end up with having to go before the discipline board. Trust me, you don’t want that.”

  No, she didn’t. Of that, Norah was absolutely certain. She had read the regulations in her contract with a mixture of fascination and horror. The rules were pure common sense, and they were fair, but a public spanking? Even the thought was enough to make her shudder.

  She thought she had suppressed her automatic reaction enough not to be noticeable, but apparently it wasn’t as successful as she’d hoped because Dina went on. “Enough of that, on to more pleasant topics. What are your plans for the bookstore?”

  Dina kept her talking about plans for her shop until the group had trickled away, and there were only a few people still hanging around. Norah was surprised to realize how long they had been standing there talking. Dina was genuinely interested, and it was fun talking to her. Finally, Quincy came up and asked if she was ready to go. She quickly said her goodbyes to Dina, not wanting to hold Quincy up any longer.

  “I’ll see you Friday,” Dina called as she hurried away. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “So am I,” Norah called back, and she was surprised to find she meant it.