by Robbi McCoy
When she passed through to the living room, she saw Max standing and gesturing in front of Raven, who was half-sitting, half-lying on the sofa, listening with interest. Ellie stood to the side with a goofy smile. Her normally surprised-looking expression looked even more surprised tonight. Wren had been startled to see Ellie at the theater, knowing she was not a fan of Shakespeare. Seeing her here, Wren decided it was Max, not Shakespeare, who had lured her there.
“Wren,” Max greeted her with enthusiasm, “what did you think?”
She walked over and hugged Max. “I thought you were wonderful. Nobody would ever guess you hadn’t been doing it for weeks.”
“Really?”
“Really. Except for the fan incident, maybe.”
“Fan incident?” Raven asked.
Max blushed.
“Just a tiny bobble,” Wren said, approaching Ellie. She gave her a hug as well.
“I was just telling Raven how exciting it was,” Max said. “Such a rush. I’m wide awake and full of energy. Ellie and I are going out for a late dinner. Maybe we’ll go dancing. What do you say, Ellie? Do you dance?”
She nodded vigorously. “It’s been a while, but I’ll give it a try.”
“It’ll be hours before you come down,” Raven said. “Dancing sounds like a good idea. Burn off some of that energy.”
“Does anybody want anything to drink?” offered Wren.
“No, thanks,” Max answered. “We won’t be staying.”
“I could use a glass of water,” Ellie said, “if you point me at the kitchen.”
“Come on,” Wren said, “I’ll take you.”
They went to the kitchen where Wren took a glass from the cupboard. “You and Max are a thing now, I guess.”
“This will be our first date, actually. It’ll be nice to be out with him on such an important night. He’s so happy!”
Wren filled the glass from a pitcher in the refrigerator, noting Ellie’s use of male pronouns. Apparently she didn’t know they were in on the ruse.
Ellie took the glass and swallowed a gulp of water before saying, “Max is just so fascinating, so unlike any man I’ve ever met before. To be honest, men have never appealed to me much…that way. I dated boys in high school, but none of them ever seemed very interesting. As I got older, I figured someday I’d meet a guy who could blow my gaskets, you know. But it never happened. Until now.” She laughed nervously.
Okay, thought Wren, annoyed, that’s taking it a little too far. “You do know I’m gay, right?” Wren asked. “And Raven too?”
“Yes, I know.” Ellie looked startled. “I mean, I wasn’t really sure about you.” She narrowed her eyes and looked momentarily bewildered. “I don’t have anything against gays. Really. I’m not the least bit prejudiced. One of my dearest friends is a lesbian. Oh! Of course you know Sophie!” Ellie blushed a bright shade of pink and looked positively horrified.
Confused, Wren stared at her as she took another guzzle of water. “No, I didn’t think you were prejudiced,” she said. “I just meant, you don’t have to pretend around us. We know about Max. We’ve assumed, given the pretty obvious signs, that Max is also gay.”
Ellie choked on her water and started coughing. When she recovered, she said, “Oh! You’re confused about me and Max because you think he’s gay. I can see why you might think that. I wondered too at first. He’s not a very macho man, is he? And he’s in the theater. So many actors are gay, aren’t they? But I know his interest in me is more than platonic. Yes, I’m sure of that. There’s a powerful sexual element between us. I’ve felt it since the day we met. He kissed me a while ago, just in front of the house. Oh, Sweet Sally Sue! Definitely a sexual attraction. Looks can be deceiving. I have nothing against homosexuals, truly, but Max, I’m sure, is not a gay man.” Ellie sucked in a deep, calming breath, then smiled benignly. Then, as if she were speaking in confidence, she lowered her voice and said, “I believe tonight will be definite proof of that.”
She giggled as she handed the glass to Wren, who stood flabbergasted, at a total loss for words.
A few minutes later, Ellie and Max walked out hand in hand and were on their way for a night on the town that promised to be deliciously interesting.
Raven stood barefoot in the living room, yawning. “So how was she, really?” he asked. “Did Beatrice bomb?”
“She was good. She was no you, but she did well.”
“Well, who is me?” He grinned. He seemed to be in a better mood than earlier in the day.
“Even if Max can handle it, I hope you’ll be going on tomorrow.”
“I’ll try. I guess I don’t want her to get used to this. She did seem thrilled.”
“Why wouldn’t she be? She got to play the lead in a classic and has a new girlfriend who’s expecting fireworks tonight. Ellie’s about to burst.”
Raven nodded, smiling crookedly. “Oh, yeah. Max is excited about that too.”
“Is she? She’s not a little nervous?”
Raven shrugged. “Everybody’s a little nervous the first time. But, you know, nature takes over and everything’s fine.”
“I’m not so sure nature is going to know what to do with this pair.”
Raven wrinkled his nose. “What? I’m surprised to hear you say that. You of all people should know that nature works as well with two girls as with anybody.”
“That’s not what I mean. Ellie thinks Max is a dude.”
Raven stared, incredulous, then said, “You’re not serious?”
“I am. After the conversation I just had with her, I’m certain she doesn’t know she’s on a date with a woman.”
“How’s that possible?”
“She’s a little green when it comes to dating. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s never even...”
“Oh, my God!” Raven rushed to the front door and flung it open, looking out into the silent night. “Max!”
When he came back inside, Wren was waiting in the hallway, leaning casually against a doorframe. “She must have a plan,” she said calmly. “This is their first date. Max will know how to handle it. Over drinks, she’ll gently explain. She’ll let it sink in, see how Ellie—”
Raven was shaking his head. “While you two were in the kitchen, Max went on and on about Ellie and how perfect they are for one another. She thinks Ellie’s a lesbian. And she figures she’s been with other women. She said the first time they met, in the restaurant, she knew right then and there this woman was for her. And it seemed Ellie felt the same. Max thinks Ellie has always known she was a woman. Like you knew.”
“Those two should talk more! If Ellie was a lesbian, an experienced lesbian, she probably would know.” Wren shook her head. “Apparently, they’re both in for a surprise tonight.”
“What should we do?” Raven asked, clearly distraught.
“I vote for letting nature take its course.”
“But you just said—”
“I know, but maybe I was underestimating nature. It seems they’re really in love with one another.”
Raven sighed. “‘Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; and therefore is wing’d Cupid painted blind.’”
“Here’s one for you,” Wren replied. “‘Cupid is a knavish lad, thus to make poor females mad.’”
Raven laughed. “I hope they work it out.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Fetch me that flower, the herb I showed thee once:
The juice of it on sleeping eyelids laid
Will make or man or woman madly dote
Upon the next live creature that it sees.
—A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act II, Scene 1
Sophie stepped into the back porch and lifted off her sun hat, having just finished planting some lemon thyme, an herb she thought would complement chêvre. Her mother met her in the kitchen in a state of spirited anxiety.
“Sophie, we’re getting calls from people wanting cheese,” Olivia reported breathlessly. “A man from all the way up in Portland jus
t called. And that fancy produce market in Medford wants to stock us.”
“It’s exciting, isn’t it?”
“What do I tell them?”
“Tell them we’re sorry, but we can’t take any new customers right now. If it’s somebody local, take their name and number and tell them we’ll see what we can do.”
“Okay. What can we do?”
“Get a couple more goats. I don’t know. Maybe we could think about something a little more professional than this.” Sophie nodded toward the cheese hanging over the kitchen counter. “If we want to get serious, we could always hire somebody to help. For now, let’s just go easy. The hoopla from the article will die down soon enough.” Sophie slipped an arm around her mother’s shoulders. “We don’t want to get carried away and outpace ourselves.”
A car horn sounded from the direction of the front yard.
“Are we expecting someone?” Olivia asked.
Sophie shook her head and walked through the house as the horn sounded again. She went out the front door to see a taxi in the driveway and a woman standing beside it. The taxi driver hauled an enormous suitcase out of the trunk. The woman, who was wearing a lime green pantsuit, waved cheerfully in their direction. As soon as she saw that color, Sophie knew it was her sister Dena. Lime green was her favorite color, her signature color, and she almost always wore it.
Olivia took off at a trot to greet her and the two of them embraced warmly while Sophie stood on the porch wondering what had induced Dena to make the trip from Tucson with no advance warning.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” Olivia was saying as Sophie approached.
“I just took off,” Dena said. “Just threw some stuff in a suitcase and took off this morning without a thought in my head.”
Dena was shorter and wider than Sophie. Plumpish, but not fat. Girlishly rounded and soft with curly hair and an unblemished, rosy complexion. Her eyes were more of a true blue than Sophie’s, round and glamorous. She was pretty, feminine and flouncy. She wasn’t the sort of woman you’d expect to put oil in her own car. Though she was two years older than Sophie, she looked like the younger sister. Sophie knew she had more of a gaunt look to her, a lived-in look.
“Hi, Sophie!” Dena squealed, flinging herself at her sister.
Sophie hugged her, then said, “Hank didn’t come with you?”
Dena rolled her eyes dramatically. “I’ve left him! I just took off, took off without a thought in my head. I’ve had enough!”
She seemed awfully proud of taking off without a thought in her head, as this was the second time she’d said it in five minutes. It was all Sophie could manage this time not to laugh.
“It wasn’t until I got to the airport I decided to come here.” Dena looked from one to the other of them gleefully. “Just went up to the counter and bought a ticket.”
She paid the taxi driver, then stood beside her suitcase, waiting for somebody to offer to move it for her, her long, painted fingernails resting on the top of her stylish leather purse. Sophie glanced at her shoes—taupe, three-inch heels.
“Come on in,” Olivia said, taking hold of Dena’s arm and leading her toward the house.
Sophie stood beside the suitcase for a moment, considering leaving it there, then relented, snapped up the handle and rolled it over to the house, lifting it up the stairs to the porch. It was heavy and big and Sophie was certain there was no outfit in there suitable for milking goats.
By late afternoon, the three women were sitting on the front porch with a pitcher of lemonade, watching the sun set. Poppy was asleep in Olivia’s lap. Dena had talked herself out and was now silent. She had been telling them about the last straw that had sent her packing. Hank had invited his deadbeat brother to move in with them. Two deadbeats in one house, yeah, that would be hard to take, Sophie sympathized. But that wasn’t even the worst of it. What had really torqued Dena off was how Hank had started insulting and demeaning her in front of his brother. It was one thing to call her dumb with just the two of them there, but to do it in front of “company” was apparently unforgivable.
Yesterday while the two fun-loving brothers sat in the front room watching TV, Dena had been taking throw rugs out to the backyard to shake them out. She had left the back door open to make it easier to carry out the rugs and a bird, a sparrow, had flown into the house. Dena had panicked and started screaming and had instinctively shut the door. The bird flew around the room looking for a way out while their cat chased it, knocking lamps over. During this fracas, Hank stood in the middle of the room trying to catch the bird with his bare hands whenever it passed by, while fruitlessly yelling, “Open the door!” at Dena. His brother ran after the frenzied cat, trying to prevent any more damage. Finally, the bird flew into the glass of the closed door, knocking itself senseless. It fell on Dena’s feet, which were in sandals, sending her into greater hysterics. She screamed at the top of her lungs and kicked her feet into the air wildly while Hank yelled at her to shut up. As the bird flopped on the carpet where it had been kicked by Dena, the cat snatched it. Hank opened the door and the cat fled outside with her prize.
It was then that Dena had stopped screaming and Hank had turned to his brother and said, “See what I mean?”
The telling of this tale took two hours because Dena took side trips to give other examples of Hank belittling her, building her case so they’d understand why this was the last straw. By the time she was done with her story, Sophie actually felt sorry for her. She also felt sorry for the sparrow.
That was why Dena was here. She had nowhere else to go and she needed the comfort of her mother’s roost. Nobody was talking now. They were just drinking their lemonade and enjoying the warm summer evening, the low bleating of goats and the chirping of crickets. There was an occasional small sigh from one or the other of them, sighs of regret, contentment or weariness, all sounding the same.
“Gonna be a warm night,” Olivia said, reaching behind herself to adjust the smiling school bus pillow higher on her back. Poppy opened her eyes briefly, then curled into a tighter ball and went back to sleep.
“Uh-huh,” Dena replied lazily.
Sophie tried to remember the last time all three of them had spent a night here together. It had to be over fifteen years ago, before Dena left home. When Olivia had her stroke, Dena had stayed here two nights with Sophie, but their mother had been in the hospital. There had been nothing relaxing or congenial about the two of them occupying this house together then. They weren’t used to the house anymore and they weren’t used to one another. Without their mother as axis, they bumped awkwardly into one another and took out their anxiety over Olivia on each other. This was different. Sophie felt peaceful. She felt a sense of belonging too. This was her home now and it felt like it. Having Dena here was beginning to feel right. Their little family was complete.
A pickup appeared at the top of the hill and headed up the driveway. All three of them came to attention.
“It’s Klaus,” Olivia said.
“Who’s Klaus?” Dena asked.
“A friend. He helps out around here from time to time.” Sophie stood.
Klaus got out of his truck, carrying a cardboard box up to the porch. Sophie was glad to see him making a friendly call. After their talk, she’d been afraid he would turn their relationship into strictly business.
“Hi,” he said, grinning brightly. “Guess what? I’m a bake-off finalist!”
“Wonderful!” Sophie exclaimed.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, glancing at Dena. “I won’t stay. I brought you ladies a sample of my last practice batch of cupcakes. This is it, for better or worse. I’ve got all three flavors here. Enough for your guest to try them too.”
He smiled at Dena, who stood, taking a step toward him, a brilliant, toothy smile on her face.
“This is my daughter, Dena,” Olivia announced. “She’s just arrived for a visit.”
Klaus thrust his box at Sophie. Then he took Dena’s hand
and said, “Nice to meet you. I’m Klaus. How long are you here for?”
“I don’t really know,” Dena said. “I thought I’d just play it by ear and see what develops.”
Sophie was certain she saw Dena’s chest expand, and there was no doubt the two of them had locked eyes on each other with some sort of fascination. Olivia grabbed one of the cupcakes from the box.
“I’ll put these inside,” Sophie said. “Thank you, Klaus. They look like winners to me.”
She went in the house and set the box on the kitchen table, wondering if it was possible for a man to fall for two women as different as she was from Dena.
When she returned to the porch, Klaus and Dena were standing in the driveway talking. Sophie sat back in her chair, watching the two of them while sucking on an ice cube from her empty lemonade glass.
“What do you suppose is going on there?” she asked her mother.
“The oldest story in the book.” Olivia chuckled and bit into her cupcake.
Sophie watched her sister and Klaus with a mixture of interest and bewilderment.
Dena swatted playfully at Klaus’s arm, pivoting back and forth on the toe of one foot like a defective wind-up ballerina, stuck in a thirty-degree angle of motion.
Klaus waved toward the porch, then drove away as Dena walked back in the twilight. She dropped into her chair and leaned toward Sophie. “Tell me everything,” she commanded.
“About what?”
“About Klaus, silly. Is he single? Is he nice? What are his aspirations? What’s his family like?”
“Hold on, Dena. Don’t you think you’re getting ahead of yourself?” Sophie doubted Klaus had any ability to protect himself against the wiles of a woman like Dena. He wasn’t stupid, but he also wasn’t worldly. “You just met the man.”
Dena frowned. “So what? Oh, I know what happened with you two. He told me he used to like you.”
“Used to?” Sophie asked.
“And that you weren’t interested.”
“That was like three days ago.”
