“I told you that those librarian stereotypes weren’t true.” Anne gave a half laugh that came out more like a gasp between shivers.
“Listen, I think you should come with me. I know you don’t know me from the next guy, but I promise I’m a normal person, and I live just across the street. I can give you the phone numbers for at least twenty people who will vouch for my normalcy.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t do that,” Anne said. “I’m sure my bus will be here any minute.”
“I don’t think your bus is coming. I have a feeling they’ve probably already stopped running. A taxi would be hours. There’s no way you’ll get across the river and all the way to the suburbs in this weather. Trust me.” She looked at Anne imploringly.
Anne looked conflicted. Clearly very cold, but not trusting Britt.
A whine interrupted their conversation. Anne bent down and held out her hand. “This must be the famous George.”
George came over and made it clear that all petting would be welcome. After a moment though, he whined again and returned to staring at their apartment across the street.
“I promise you’ll be safe with me, and I promise George will be on his best behavior,” Britt said. “I couldn’t live with myself if you stood out here and froze to death. My apartment is small, but it’s warm and has a view of this side of the street so you can see if any buses come by. Please?”
Anne nodded slowly. “Okay, if you really don’t mind. I will come up and get warm for little bit. Just until the buses start running again.”
“Absolutely.” Britt nodded, and the three of them headed for her apartment.
“So why did you decide to move to Portland?” Britt asked once they were both warm and dry and sitting on opposite ends of her couch, with George curled up between them, quietly snoring.
“Actually, it was my girlfriend’s idea,” Anne said.
Britt tried not to cough up the tea she had just been about to swallow.
“She got a job up here, and the cost of living was lower, and I impulsively said yes even though I had never been here before.”
“And how do you like it?” Britt asked.
“I love it. It really suits me, and I love the library branch where I work.” Anne’s smile was genuine as she took a sip from her mug of Earl Gray.
“Um, do you need to, uh, call your girlfriend…?” Britt asked. She hadn’t thought about the fact that there might be someone waiting at home for this lovely woman, and she could have kicked herself for making assumptions.
“No, we broke up about three months after moving here. It turns out that an ex-girlfriend of hers was more of the reason she wanted to move up here than the job.”
“Ouch. That must have been awful. But you’re still here, and I’m sure Portland is the better for it.”
Anne was quiet for a minute, staring into her steaming mug. “I can see myself making Portland my home for quite a while. Maybe even forever.” She looked into Britt’s eyes. “Obviously, I need to update my wardrobe with some more appropriate winter wear.” She chuckled.
Britt took in Anne, who was wearing a pair of Britt’s wooly socks with her legs tucked beneath her. She didn’t know the last time she had felt so comfortable just sitting with a woman. They sat in companionable silence for a bit, each drinking her tea.
“I like your Christmas decorations.” Anne indicated the three glass bulbs and a strand of multicolored Christmas lights that Britt had added to one of her houseplants. There were also two stockings hanging by the TV set: one for Britt and a smaller one for George.
“You haven’t even seen the full effect yet.” Britt hopped up from the couch and turned on the TV. She flipped through options until she came to the streaming video she wanted. When she pressed play, a crackling log in a fireplace appeared.
Anne laughed. “So classy!” She winked at Britt.
Warmth flood Britt’s body.
“I love your apartment.” Anne looked at the cluttered bookcases and the family photos hanging on the wall. “It’s so homey. I keep meaning to do some decorating in my apartment, but it looks pretty impersonal right now. I didn’t even decorate for the holidays. My mom and I used to decorate every surface of our house with every Christmas knickknack known to man.”
“Thanks,” Britt replied. “I’ve lived here for about three years. I like it. Nice neighbors. Not too far to school and the store. Close to the library.” She flashed a grin at Anne.
Anne’s phone made a dinging noise, and she pulled it out of her purse.
“Oh no. Tri-Met shut down the buses. The trains are severely delayed. Crap.”
“You can stay here, you know. You can stay the night. I’ll sleep on the couch, and you can have the bed.” At Anne’s head shaking, Britt continued. “If you’re worried about it, I promise that George and I will both be on our best behavior.”
“I couldn’t impose like that,” Anne said.
“You’re not imposing, and like it or not, I think you’re stuck here, at least until tomorrow. Now, what do you like to eat for dinner?”
Two hours later, a frozen pizza had been cooked and consumed, a salad tossed together and eaten, and a bottle of wine finished off, and all the while Anne and Britt continued to talk about their families, their favorite places in Oregon, crazy George stories, and of course, favorite books.
“Wait, you didn’t even get to finish that book that George chewed up?” Anne laughed. “That’s so terrible!”
“I know, and I really wanted to find out whodunit.” Britt couldn’t help laughing herself. “I got about seventy-five percent through the book. I was seventy-five percent invested in that story before George got his teeth on it. I guess I’ll never know.” She sighed dramatically.
Anne was giggling at Britt’s antics now. “I wish I had read it so I could tell you how it ends.”
“But now a serious question.” Britt adopted her best serious interrogation face. “What is your favorite Christmas movie?”
Anne appeared to give it some very serious thought. “There is only one movie that can claim that title: National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.”
“We might be soul mates, because that is also mine,” Britt said.
Anne gave her an odd look but also smiled.
“Shall we watch it?”
Halfway through the movie, the wine caught up with Britt, and she nodded off. When she woke, the movie credits were playing and Anne’s hand was on her shoulder. Her face was also very close, and the lights from the Christmas “tree” cast a soft light against her cheeks. Was she dreaming?
“Hey,” Anne said softly. “You fell asleep, so George and I had to finish the movie without you.”
Britt came a little more awake. “Oops, I guess I was more tired than I thought. Let me show you where you can sleep for the night.”
“I will take the couch.” Anne shook her head when Britt started to protest. “I insist. You’ve opened your home to me, let me eat your food and drink your wine. I will be perfectly happy sleeping on the couch. Besides, you’re taller than me and you’d be more uncomfortable sleeping here.”
Britt decided to give in. After giving Anne some sheets and blankets, as well as an extra toothbrush, she bade her goodnight and went into her room. George, she noticed, preferred to stay in the living room with Anne. Britt wished she could too.
Britt tossed and turned that night. It was hard to relax when the woman of your dreams was sleeping separately, approximately twenty-five feet away in a different room. She had spent a good amount of time trying to convince herself to not fall head over heels for Anne, but it was clearly too late for her brain to reason with her heart.
When they had first met at the library, Britt had a feeling that she and Anne had a connection. She convinced herself that it was all in her head and both dreaded and looked forward to seeing her whenever she w
as in the library.
Where did they go from here? Today Anne would go back to her own place in Beaverton, and the next time they met, it would be as librarian and patron. The thought depressed Britt. She didn’t want to lose the most natural and exciting connection she’d ever made with a woman before.
Pulling herself out of bed in the morning, she glanced out the window. Maybe Anne wouldn’t be leaving so soon after all.
She opened the door to the living room and saw Anne was already up, reading one of Britt’s books.
“Good morning,” Britt said. “Have you looked out the window?”
“Good morning yourself.” Anne smiled warmly. “I have. I believe the term Winter Wonderland applies here. I can hardly see the parked cars.”
“I don’t know if you’ll have any more luck getting across town today than yesterday. I just want you to know that you are welcome to stay as long as you want. George and I love having you here.”
Anne looked at her for a moment, the gaze of her blue eyes piercing Britt. “I really appreciate that. You’ve been very generous. As has George. He even let me have almost half of the couch.”
They took turns taking showers and made egg-and-cheese scrambles for breakfast. Afterward, they worked together to clean up their meal. Anne’s presence in her apartment felt natural and easy.
“What shall we do today?” Britt asked. “More Christmas movies? George could perform his full repertoire of tricks.”
“Actually,” Anne began, her cheeks turning pink, “I’ve never been in snow before last night, and I didn’t really get a chance to play in it. Do you think we could do that?”
Britt grinned. “Absolutely! I would love to do that. I’ll loan you some boots and a coat so you’re adequately prepared for snow fun.”
“It’s a date,” Anne said, and they both laughed.
The neighborhood was full of kids taking advantage of the rare weather, and Britt and Anne joined in the fun. Drifts at least a foot deep had accumulated in front yards and on sidewalks, and no cars were on the road. It was a free for all. Britt showed Anne how to make snow angels. Anne discovered that the snow was exactly the right kind for making snowballs and managed to get a few good ones in before Britt retaliated.
When they could no longer feel their fingers, they headed back up to Britt’s apartment, breathless and laughing. Anne’s cheeks were rosy from the cold and her hair wet from melting snow.
Britt helped her unwrap her snow-crusted scarf. She reached up to wipe some snow from Anne’s cheek, and a jolt of electricity ran through her.
Anne looked at her with intensity. Had she felt it too?
“We should probably take these wet things off,” Anne said softly.
All Britt could manage was a nod.
Anne reached up and unwrapped Britt’s scarf, her fingers grazing Britt’s neck in the process.
Tingles went through Britt where Anne touched her skin, and she found herself wishing Anne would take off more than just her scarf.
She realized that Anne’s hand was still on her neck, just below her ear, and that Anne was staring at her mouth with hungry eyes.
“Anne—”
Anne closed the space between them, and her lips were on Britt’s. She cupped Britt’s face with both hands as she kissed her passionately.
Joy and electricity pulsed through her entire body. She kissed Anne back with abandon. Anne’s lips were soft and warm, and Britt couldn’t get enough of them. She pushed the coat off of Anne’s shoulders and onto the floor, and Anne followed suit by removing Britt’s bulky coat. This allowed them to get even closer, in each other’s arms now.
Anne nibbled and sucked at Britt’s lips, and Britt felt as if she had never really kissed anyone until this moment. Sure, there had been girls she’d dated and kissed, but not like this.
Britt had her hands on Anne’s hips, gripping them, pulling her closer. She slid one hand up to Anne’s stomach.
Anne gave a little yelp.
“Your hands are like ice! We should probably keep taking off the snowy clothes so we don’t get hypothermia.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Britt’s voice came out husky and low.
Many minutes later they finally managed to get all of their dripping outerwear off and hang it in the bathroom to dry.
More than anything, Britt wanted to continue where they had left off, but she was also cognizant of the fact that Anne did not really have the choice to leave or go home if she felt uncomfortable with how far they went. So Britt suggested watching a movie instead.
For the rest of the day, they alternated between watching movies, talking, playing cards, and cooking. And all the while, Anne would lean over and touch her back or give her hungry looks. It was enough to drive a saint mad.
By dinnertime, Britt knew they’d have to do something to keep her mind—and hands—off Anne for a while.
“We should make something,” she said. “Something Christmassy.”
Anne’s eyes lit up. “Did I tell you that I used to fill in for the children’s librarian at my library in California? So I know a whole bunch of fun crafts. Do you have any popsicle sticks?”
“Fresh out of popsicle sticks,” was Britt’s smart-ass reply.
“Glitter?”
“Also out.”
“Pipe cleaners?”
“Nope?”
“Googly eyes?”
“I only have googly eyes for you,” Britt replied.
She was rewarded with a cheeky grin and a giggle from Anne.
“Egg carton?”
“Bingo, I do have an egg carton.”
“Okay,” said Anne. “I can work with this.”
Martha Stewart wouldn’t be calling them for advice anytime soon, but they had a ball creating makeshift garlands, ornaments, and even an advent calendar that involved a shoe box and mini bottles of alcohol. By the end, Britt’s apartment looked as if it had been decorated for Christmas by a couple of drunk elves, but Britt loved it.
She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt quite so carefree. Anne’s hesitancy and shyness seemed to have dropped away completely.
They agreed that the best thing for Anne to do would be to spend another night. Britt loaned her some pajamas and reluctantly left her on the couch again. She did her best to avoid imagining how wonderful it would be to have Anne sleep wrapped up with her in the bed. She knew it would be heavenly but refused to even consider crossing that line. She didn’t want Anne to think even for a second that her invitation hinged on whether she would sleep with Britt or not.
“Good night and sweet dreams, Britt,” Anne said as they parted ways for the night and embraced her.
At first startled, Britt hugged her back, enjoying the softness of her body and the scent of glue and soap and Anne.
“Good night to you, Dream Librarian,” whispered Britt.
The sound of a snowplow woke Britt the next morning. Snowplow! That meant the roads were being cleared for cars—and buses. She heard Anne moving around in the rest of the apartment. Britt left her bedroom and found Anne already dressed in her own clothes and looking out the window at the snowplow.
“The roads are clear!” The delight was evident in Anne’s voice, and Britt tried to smile in return. The past two days had been almost magical, and she hated to see them end.
“Yeah, I guess you’ll be wanting to head home soon once the buses start running again.” Britt’s word came out more formal than she meant them to.
A wrinkle of confusion formed on Anne’s face.
“Of course,” Anne replied. “I’m sure you’ll be glad to have me out of your hair.”
“I—we, that is, Georgie and me have enjoyed having you here.” Britt knew the fantasy had to end, but it was still hard to let go.
“I enjoyed being here. More than I can say, Britt.
”
“Maybe we’ll drop by the library later this week, say hi,” Britt said.
“I hope you do!” Anne smiled. “But don’t forget that we’re closed on Wednesday and Thursday for Christmas Eve and Christmas.”
Britt just nodded.
Anne looked as if she wanted to say more, but remained silent.
After a quick breakfast of oatmeal and sausage and a check of the transit website, Anne was ready to head home. Britt insisted on walking her to the bus stop and loaning her the coat again. The sun was bright, the sky clear. Snow piled up on the side of the roads from the snowplow, but it did not take long for Anne’s bus to arrive.
“Thank you again,” Anne said as she gave Britt a quick hug. She looked into her eyes for a moment and then stepped onto the bus.
Britt watched the bus pull away, carrying her heart with it.
The rest of the day was decidedly anticlimactic for Britt. She took George out to play in the snow (he was definitely not as good at snow angels as Anne). She cleaned up her apartment (which now felt strangely empty). She wrapped her last few gifts for her parents and sister and then tried to read one of her other library books but found herself distracted. Her thoughts kept returning to Anne and the magical thirty-six hours they’d spent together.
How could one person make such an impact on her? She had dated women in the past, but she was always happy to retreat back to her own space after going on a date with them. She didn’t crave their company the way she was craving for Anne right now.
She thought Anne felt the same connection, but what if she was wrong? Maybe she had just been caught up in the moment when she had kissed Britt. Maybe it didn’t mean anything to her.
Britt sighed. Her thoughts were just going in circles now, and she needed a distraction. She tried the book again. Then threw it down in disgust after about twenty minutes of reading the same page over and over.
She decided to go out for a walk. The snow had melted enough that the streets were passable, and business as usual seemed to have resumed.
Do You Feel What I Feel. a Holiday Anthology Page 10
