by Karis Walsh
Andy untangled the note and put it back on the fridge. She smoothed Brooke’s hair with her fingers, then trailed them across her lips and down her neck, feeling Brooke’s speeding pulse. “I should get back out there. Unless you need me to help with dinner?”
Brooke laughed. “I think if you stay in here and help me any more, our guests will go hungry.” She turned Andy and gave her a push toward the living room. “Dinner should be ready in fifteen minutes.”
*
Andy eventually relaxed enough to realize she didn’t have to do anything at this party. After years of holidays spent worrying over what she said or did, she discovered the joy of being with people who didn’t have expectations of her that she could never quite guess, never quite live up to. Her last remaining concern, that her friends wouldn’t enjoy the nontraditional food, lingered, because she knew her vegetarian diet had dictated Brooke’s menu. She felt responsible for the food, even though Brooke had made all of it, but her worries vanished as she watched plate after plate consumed by their guests.
After eating, they all sprawled in the living room, too full to do more than compliment Brooke on the meal and listen to the Chopin etudes that Richard had chosen for them. Brooke was in one of the armchairs, her bare legs tucked under her skirt. Andy sat on the floor in front of her, leaning back as Brooke’s fingers played through her hair. The room was in chaos, with paper plates, leftover food, and empty glasses on every surface. The difference between this and her usual Thanksgiving dinner with her family was striking. Instead of a sit-down dinner with cloth napkins, fine china, and stilted conversation, they had opted for a buffet. Everyone ate and laughed together, going back for seconds and thirds when they wanted, sitting wherever they could find a spot. On the surface it seemed less organized and controlled, but the depth of friendship and comfort in Andy’s apartment filled her with a sense of peace she hadn’t known for a long time. She draped her arm across Brooke’s thighs and picked gently at the fabric of her skirt while their guests argued over which dish they had enjoyed the most. Andy didn’t even feel an urge to get up and start clearing trash, not wanting to break this contact with Brooke. Brooke shifted in the chair. Andy slipped her hand a little farther up Brooke’s thigh and was surprised by such a rush of wanting, she almost climbed into Brooke’s lap right in front of everyone.
Andy rarely entertained guests, and never before on a holiday. For all the pain she had experienced as a child, Andy had never lost a deep love of society’s rituals. She had listened to school friends talk about their family traditions like other kids read fairy tales. They may have dreamed of castles and knights, but she’d longed for a home to be her sanctuary. Brooke had given Andy her fantasy this evening. Andy knew that if she had tried to have this same party without Brooke it wouldn’t have been as easy or relaxing. She was the one who had cooked and planned, who had approached the night with a relaxed and generous attitude. She had interacted with Andy’s friends as if she had known them for years, making each one feel special and welcome. Andy felt a deep sense of gratitude for Brooke’s gift. And a growing desire for her.
And love. Her hand froze as she realized how much she had grown to love Brooke. In every important way, Andy thought of Brooke as a partner. From daily activities to important events, everything Andy did had more depth, more richness, simply because Brooke was there. Over the past few weeks, with Brooke around, her apartment had felt more like home than any place ever had. But it wasn’t just the companionship and cooking that made that happen, it was Brooke herself. But what if Brooke went away? Andy didn’t know how she would survive.
“Anyone for pumpkin pie?” Brooke asked, bringing Andy back from her thoughts with a start. Every person perked up from their food coma and asked for a piece. Brooke grabbed Andy’s hand and stood up. “Come help me?”
“I’ll help you,” Tina said, waving Andy back into a seated position. “If we leave the two of you in the kitchen with a can of whipped cream, we’ll never get dessert.”
Andy flushed but everyone else, Brooke included, just laughed. She tried to focus on the conversation and keep her mind away from thoughts of love, or Brooke covered in whipped cream. The homemade pie was a huge hit with everyone, but Andy barely tasted it as she worried about her feelings for Brooke. As soon as she was finished, she started gathering plates and empty glasses, trying to ignore the concerned glances Brooke was sending her way. She carried a stack of plates into the kitchen and tossed them into the garbage and recycle bins under the sink. She sensed Brooke behind her before she turned around.
“What is it?” Brooke asked with a slight frown. “What went wrong?”
Andy shook her head, not knowing how to explain. “It’s just been such a great evening,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry it’s almost over.”
Brooke stepped toward her and wrapped her arms around Andy’s waist, her chin resting on Andy’s shoulder. Andy hesitated before she returned the embrace, longing for the familiar feeling of simple desire instead of this overwhelming rush of love. She pushed Brooke away gently. She had been so careful of their physical relationship and had fought so hard to resist Brooke’s body, she hadn’t noticed the attack on her heart.
“Thank you for tonight,” she said as she took a step back. “You made it perfect for everyone.”
Tina popped her head in the room. “Hey, Andy, everyone wants music. Can I play your violin?”
Andy nodded, glad of an excuse to get out of the kitchen before she made a mess of things and professed her love to Brooke. She and Tina went into the music room to get instruments, and David followed. He carried Andy’s keyboard out to the living room and set it up while Tina tuned the rarely used violin.
“Do you mind slumming?” Andy asked Richard as she handed him the less expensive viola she used for teaching. He gave an exaggerated grimace as he took the instrument out of its case and slipped on a shoulder rest. He played a few scales, clearly as proficient with this instrument as with the violin.
“It’s not too bad,” he admitted grudgingly as Andy mimicked the scales on her performance viola. The difference in quality between the two instruments was noticeable as the deeper tones from Andy’s viola seemed to linger in the air after they were played.
Tina started them off with some fiddle tunes, and the rest of the group joined in when she played “Old Joe Clark.” Andy felt her tension easing yet again as their playing deteriorated into a speed contest that had their friends laughing and urging them on. Then David took center stage as the others tried to stump him with a variety of song requests. He could play by ear, so he would pick out the basic melody of any song they asked for, and then the rest of the group joined in.
Andy had played with these people for several years, but she had never spent so much time with them in a social setting. She learned more about them as they played together, and she started to appreciate Richard’s subtle sense of humor, Tina’s gift for improvising on the violin, and David’s perfect pitch. They finished the night with Mozart’s “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik,” one of Andy’s favorites.
“Well-played,” Richard complimented her when they finished.
“She should play that one well,” Brooke said. “She has it tattooed on her ass.”
That silenced everyone as they turned toward her. “I do not,” Andy said with a laugh, jabbing at Brooke with her bow. “It’s on my lower back.”
They wouldn’t let her off the hook, so she had to show everyone her tattoo. I guess they’re learning new things about me too, she thought.
After the music, their guests started to drift toward the door in the usual lengthy process of gathering coats, packing plates of leftovers, and saying good-bye. Finally the two of them were alone in the suddenly very quiet apartment, a moment Andy had been both dreading and anticipating. Andy wanted the physical contact she and Brooke had shared all evening to continue, but they had fallen into the habit, usually enforced by her, of stopping after a brief kiss or touch. Andy was all too aware of h
er desire, of her jumbled thoughts of love and partnership, but she had no idea what Brooke would expect tonight.
“That was exhausting, but fun,” Brooke announced as they surveyed the mess in the living room. “Do you mind if I take a quick shower before we start to clean up?”
“Take your time,” Andy said. “I thought I’d call Amy and make sure everything went okay tonight.”
Brooke disappeared, and Andy dialed Amy’s number. She realized guiltily that she had barely thought about her family all night except to compare their usual holidays with this special one. She hoped the evening hadn’t been too much of a disaster without her there as a buffer.
“Hello?” Amy said brightly when she answered the phone. Her sister was a night owl, so Andy hadn’t hesitated to call so late.
“Happy Thanksgiving,” she said.
“You, too, sister dear. Did you and the little woman have a good night?”
“I had a nice evening with my friends, thank you,” Andy replied without rising to her sister’s bait. “How did it go at home?”
“Oh, you know. Same old crap. Dad criticized my clothes and complained that the turkey was dry. Mom kept putting more food on my plate and asking about the possibility of future grandchildren. Just like every other year.”
Andy sat heavily in a dining room chair. “Really? No big fights? Everyone was all right?”
“Of course,” Amy said with her usual harsh laugh. “What did you expect, the house would come crashing down because you weren’t there?”
“No,” Andy lied. They floundered around with small talk for a few minutes before hanging up. She set the phone on the table next to a pile of dirty serving dishes and listened to the sounds of Brooke splashing in the shower.
Chapter Twenty
Brooke came out of the bathroom and found Andy at the dining room table. “How is Amy?” she asked anxiously, unable to read Andy’s expression. She thought their evening had gone well, but she knew Andy would be consumed by guilt if her fun holiday had come at her family’s expense.
Andy shrugged. “She said it was a normal Thanksgiving.”
“Well, that’s good news,” Brooke said with a sigh of relief. “Isn’t it?”
“I guess,” Andy said, her brow furrowed. “Do you know that feeling you get when you’re flying, and you try to concentrate really hard so the plane won’t crash? And then you realize you don’t really have any control over what happens, so you might as well just sit and enjoy the ride.”
No matter how perfect Andy had tried to be, how hard she fought to bring peace to her family, it was always just an illusion. It made Brooke’s heart ache to think of how many crashes Andy had survived along the way. “So you discovered that your family won’t fall apart if you stop being miserable for one night?” Brooke asked gently.
Andy nodded with a small smile. “It’s good to find out, but I wasted a lot of years struggling to keep them together even though they didn’t need me to.” She met Brooke’s eyes. “If it hadn’t been for you, I would have gone back this year to the same lousy night. And I would have missed all of this.”
She waved her arm vaguely around the room, and when her hand came back to rest on the table Brooke covered it with her own. “Sometimes you need to break out of an old habit before you can see that there are other ways of doing things,” Brooke said. They both had needed to separate from their families, if only for a short time, to realize how much of their own identities they sacrificed when they let others define who they should be.
Andy just squeezed Brooke’s fingers with her own, staring at their entwined hands. She slipped off her chair and onto her knees in front of Brooke, winding her arms around Brooke’s waist and laying her head in her lap. Brooke cupped the back of Andy’s head with one hand and rubbed the other gently over her shoulders and upper back. They stayed like that, just resting close to each other, until Andy stopped thinking about her family and started noticing the soft thighs that rested on either side of her rib cage.
“You’re wearing my bathrobe,” she said quietly, reaching a hand up to play with the robe’s belt. “Anything underneath it?”
She felt Brooke’s laughter under her cheek. “Do you want to find out?” she asked, bending over to kiss the top of Andy’s head.
Andy slid her hand under the loose top of the robe and ran her fingers lightly over Brooke’s bare breasts. She raised her head and impatiently untied the loose sash and pushed the robe off Brooke’s shoulders. Their eyes locked, and Brooke’s were anything but icy as her desire for Andy showed on her face.
“God, you are so beautiful,” Andy whispered reverently, running her hands up Brooke’s thighs, to her waist, and back to her full breasts. She realized they had been aiming at this moment from the first time they’d touched that afternoon. She gently squeezed Brooke’s nipples, and Brooke gripped the back of her head more tightly as she thrust her breasts toward Andy’s hungry mouth.
Andy sucked a taut nipple into her mouth, making Brooke gasp with pleasure, while her hands traveled back to the silky legs that enveloped her. She rested her thumbs on the tight tendons at the apex of Brooke’s thighs, kneading lightly and loving the response she got as Brooke spread her legs and pressed her hips closer. The smell of Brooke’s arousal surrounded her, and she thought she might come just from having Brooke’s obvious desire fill all of her senses. Brooke gave a wordless cry of need as Andy’s mouth dropped to her wetness and covered her with gentle kisses.
Andy remembered the sweet taste of Brooke, but this time with her was worlds away from their first night together. Then it had been a matter of attraction, of a connection with a beautiful stranger. Now, Andy poured all of her love and gratitude into giving this woman pleasure, and her tongue ran over Brooke with a patient tenderness that drove her wild. Brooke’s incoherent cries begged her to move harder and faster, but she refused to be rushed, showing Brooke how much she loved her since she knew she couldn’t say the words yet. Andy was determined to make this last, but her slow, deep lovemaking pushed Brooke to an orgasm that shook them both.
“Oh my God,” Brooke gasped when she could speak again, tears running down her face. “How did you do that?”
She caught Andy’s face between her hands and pulled her up for a frantic kiss. Andy leaned her hands on the armrests, bending over Brooke’s chair and kissing her with all the passion and need that she had been trying to contain. Their tongues danced, and only the uncomfortable position made Andy finally draw away and help Brooke to her feet. Brooke left the robe lying on the chair, and Andy discarded her clothes as quickly as she could. They fell onto Andy’s bed together, tugging at the blankets and sheet to get them out of the way.
“No,” Andy whimpered as Brooke started kissing her way down Andy’s neck. Brooke raised her head in confusion, but Andy threaded her fingers through silky blond hair and brought her close. “Please, don’t stop kissing me.”
Brooke smiled and nipped playfully at Andy’s lower lip. Andy’s tongue snaked out and Brooke met it with her own. Her thigh moved between Andy’s legs, and she slid her hand down until she reached wet curls. Andy moved her hips against Brooke’s thigh and fingers, letting Brooke fill her mouth with her tongue until she came, crying Brooke’s name loudly.
Brooke lifted her head slightly and looked into Andy’s eyes, sharing the same breath as they stared at each other in wonder. Andy lifted a shaky hand to brush Brooke’s hair from her face before kissing her more gently on the lips. Brooke felt small contractions where her hand was still pressed between Andy’s thighs, and she was reluctant to break their contact. Being together now was so different from their first night, when they were strangers and Brooke had been looking for an escape, a fantasy. Now it was real life. Two people who shared meals and shopping trips and household chores, and now shared a bed. The situation was mundane, so much less exciting than picking up a stranger in a bar, but Brooke was overwhelmed by the powerful feelings she experienced. The first time, Andy had touched her bod
y and showed her how amazing sex could be. This time, she’d reached in and touched Brooke’s soul.
“Andy, I need you again,” Brooke whispered. “Please.”
Andy rolled them over and slipped between Brooke’s wet thighs. “My pleasure,” she growled as she moved lower.
“Faster this time,” Brooke panted as Andy seemed intent on maintaining her slow, loving pace. “I don’t know if I can take that again so soon, what you did out there.”
Andy laughed and caught Brooke firmly with her mouth, sucking around her clit before diving deeply inside with her tongue. “Is that how you want it?” she asked, raising her head to catch Brooke’s eye.
“Yes, please.” Brooke said.
“Okay, but I just want to make sure I’m doing this right…”
Brooke gave a strangled laugh at Andy’s teasing. “Don’t stop,” she said, kicking gently at Andy with her ankle. Andy grinned at her and returned to business, sliding her fingers inside while her tongue swirled toward Brooke’s swollen clit. Brooke thought her first orgasm should have finished her off for the night, leaving her unconscious until morning, but instead it had left her with a driving need to be near Andy. She clenched her fingers in Andy’s hair, desperately pulling her closer. This time, Andy’s pace matched her need, and soon she was sucking her clit deep into her mouth until Brooke thrust her hips against Andy and came with a loud cry.
Andy moved back up the bed and took Brooke into her arms, holding her tightly as their heads settled close together on Andy’s pillow.
“Can I?” Brooke asked in a drowsy voice, her hand drifting down Andy’s abdomen.
“Later, honey,” Andy whispered, stopping Brooke’s hand and tucking it securely around her waist. “Just go to sleep.”
