“Oh yes. He was devastated. But do you remember the young, dark-haired produce manager I waved to in Fresh?”
“Yes. He seemed nice.”
“Well, Don told me that he and John had agreed that if either of them died, the survivor would date him. And that’s what Don has done.”
“Interesting—and how’s it going?” Bree glanced around the immaculate, beautifully furnished room, warmed by the heat from the fireplace on the far wall.
“Let’s just say Don hasn’t gotten over John’s death yet.”
“How sad. At least he feels like opening their beautiful home to their friends once a month.”
“Yes. We all appreciate him. And who knows? Maybe he’ll find someone else someday.” Linda sighed.
Suddenly, a tall, dark-haired woman appeared nearby and held out her hand. “Hello. I haven’t met you yet. I’m Rosemary.”
“This is Bree,” Linda said. “Rosemary’s one of our straight allies. Bree’s visiting from Chicago.”
“Really?” Rosemary burst into a smile. “My daughter and her partner live there, on the northwest side. Do you know them?”
Bree grinned. “I’d need a little more information, but I doubt it. I’m on the south side of town and rarely get out of my neighborhood.”
“Well, my daughter is a lot younger than we are, and she says the same thing. Sometimes I think we have a larger, more active community here in Tyler than people in a lot of big cities do.”
“From what little I’ve seen so far, I tend to agree,” Linda said. “Come on, Rosemary. I want to introduce you to my daughter. She and her partner live in the same part of Chicago as yours and might possibly be acquainted. If not, maybe they could all meet each other.”
Bree was introduced to more people than she could ever remember, many of them gay men ranging from eighteen to eighty. A retired nurse named Sheri and her on-again, off-again partner stood out because they both liked to read and seemed full of life and up for just about anything.
Slowly, people began to drift toward the two round folding tables set up in the living area or to the large dining table. A collection of board games was stacked in one corner of the living room, and as people gathered, they began to choose games.
*
“Hey, Linda. Do you and Bree want to play Rummikub with us?” Kay asked.
“Sure, if it’s okay with Bree.”
The four of them sat at a small folding table, and Lou Anne opened a case filled with game pieces. Then each of them chose fourteen small tiles from the large group lying facedown the table and arranged them on her own plastic rack.
The game moved quickly, and Bree easily caught on. Lou Anne made some complicated moves, though Kay distracted her once by asking, out of the blue, “Don’t you think my honey looks sexy in red?” Lou Anne became so flustered she missed an obvious play. Bree seemed to try her best, but Lou Anne ended up winning almost every game.
After four games, Lou Anne and Kay stood up and stretched. “I’d like to buy a copy of your book,” Bree told Lou Anne. “I’ve intended to ever since Linda told me about it.”
“Of course.” Lou Anne seemed delighted. “I’ll run get one from my car and sign it for you.”
Just then Maureen wandered in from the dining room and picked up a can of Dr Pepper. “Having fun, Mom? What’s this game?”
Bree stepped over to refill her plate, seeming to steer clear of Maureen, who’d barely spoken to her all night.
Linda was explaining the basics of Rummikub to Maureen when the doorbell rang. “What kept you so long?” she heard Don say. “I thought you’d decided not to show up.”
Linda froze as Tonda entered the room, arm in arm with him. “You know I wouldn’t miss game night for the world, Don.” Immediately she zeroed in on Linda and sailed over and planted a big kiss on her lips, as if they were an item.
“Hi, Tonda.” She didn’t know whether to look at Maureen or at Bree, who’d both gone as rigid as she felt.
Maureen stared, then walked up to Tonda. “Hello. I’m Linda’s daughter, Maureen. Should I know you?”
Tonda tossed her head and stared Maureen up and down. “I’m not sure. Should you? Or would you like to?”
“I doubt she’s interested in anyone,” Bree said, “since she seems to be content with the woman she’s living with.” With a gesture, she indicated Terry, who’d just wandered in from the dining room.
“That’s right,” Maureen said. “I have exactly what I want, and I think my mom’s following my good example.” For the first time that night, she met Bree’s eyes and smiled.
Don swooped in and took Tonda by the arm. “Now, now, girls. Don’t be catty. In fact, I want to show you the new shirts I bought the other day at Macy’s. Come on.” He winked at them as he led Tonda toward the other part of the house.
“Thanks, Bree,” Maureen said. “I think I’ll stay here and try whatever you’re playing. Want to join us, Terry?”
“No. I’m enjoying the game in the dining room. You go ahead.”
Just then Lou Anne walked in carrying a signed copy of her book, and Bree paid her. “Kay and I usually like to play hostess and circulate. Does anyone else want to play Rummikub?” she asked the ones nearby who were finishing their game of Imaginiff.
“No, thanks,” several of them said.
“I’d love to.” The person Linda least wanted to hear from had apparently returned. “Thanks for showing me your new clothes, Don, but I really did come to play.” Tonda paused. “If these three lovely ladies don’t mind.”
“Of course they don’t.” Don’s eyes twinkled. He seemed to enjoy the electric current racing through the room.
Linda gritted her teeth. It was a game, she told herself, even if she did feel pulled in three directions.
Maureen’s eyes flashed. “Come on, Tonda. Let’s see what you’re made of.”
Bree remained silent as she carefully chose her fourteen tiles one by one.
Linda scooped up a handful and glanced at the clock. Eight forty-five. Only fifteen minutes until the party officially ended.
*
“Pass,” Linda said, and drew a tile.
Bree focused on her tiles. What luck. Three of them were number thirteen, so she easily produced the required thirty points.
Tonda straightened in her chair and laid down a run of ten, eleven, and twelve, all red. “Pass,” she said, her smirk irritating.
Maureen frowned. “Pass.” She picked a tile from one of the piles scattered around the table.
Bree added a red nine to Tonda’s run and passed to Linda, who had to draw again.
After two more rounds, Maureen finally had enough points to enter the fray, though her smile didn’t bother Bree as much as Tonda’s expression of triumph had. Her casually possessive attitude toward Linda infuriated Bree. Was that how Maureen saw her?
But Bree hadn’t blatantly entered a room full of people and kissed Linda like she owned her. Only the moon had witnessed the kiss she and Linda had shared on Thanksgiving night, and if anything, their kiss owned Bree. She still trembled when she thought of the beauty, the wonder, the sense of rightness she’d felt.
Tonda’s kiss had seemed to demean Linda, reduce her to a prize she used to show everyone how desirable she was. Bree refused to do that, though she’d been guilty of doing the same thing so many times in her past she shuddered to think about her dreadful behavior.
“Damn it, Tonda. I wanted to play there.” Maureen had muttered so quietly Bree wondered if anyone else heard her. But Bree would have said exactly the same thing, in the same tone. Maureen locked eyes with her, and Bree knew Maureen realized the difference between the two kisses she’d recently seen her mother receive.
She sighed, relieved she didn’t have to battle Maureen’s hostility as well as her own guilt about her past cavalier treatment of women.
“Can you believe it?” Linda asked. “I can finally lay down.” Her tray overflowed with tiles, which she slowly, methodically
placed on the table. “And I’m out,” she announced quietly.
“What?” Tonda said. “I don’t believe it. You won? Are you sure?”
“Of course. You can check if you want.” Linda held up her empty tray.
“Congratulations, Mom. What an upset. I’m proud of you.”
“Me too, Linda.” Bree didn’t know how, but Linda had managed to put Tonda in her place and reconcile the bad feelings between her and Maureen with only one simple game of Rummikub.
Who was this quiet, kind woman who drew Bree to her more inexorably every day?
*
“I enjoyed myself tonight,” Bree said as she pulled up into Linda’s driveway. “Thanks for inviting me.”
“I’m glad you could go. And even more happy you and Maureen seemed to mend your fences.”
“You can thank Tonda.”
“She obviously has a high opinion of herself, thinking she can lay claim to me on the basis of one date, which I cut short.”
Bree chuckled. “I don’t want to sound like I’m defending her, but I can understand why she’d act like she did.”
Was Bree teasing her? “What do you mean?”
“She obviously finds you irresistible. And she’s not the only one.”
“Oh, she’s not?” Linda gazed at Bree’s face in the moonlight. So their kiss the other night hadn’t been a fluke. She leaned toward Bree, drawn by an attraction she couldn’t control.
Suddenly Bree maneuvered her hand under her sweater and held her breast as if it were a football she’d caught for the winning touchdown.
“Whoa, girl. What do you think you’re doing?”
“Uh, I thought…after the way we kissed the other night and the way I can’t get you out of my mind—”
“That I can’t wait to fall into bed with you?” Linda pulled away, disappointment flooding her like a cold shower.
“Then why did you invite me to go with you tonight?” Bree looked as if she couldn’t believe she’d been rejected. “Haven’t you been interested in me all along?”
“Maybe so. But possibly I’m interested in the ideal you I’ve hero-worshipped for so long.”
“And I’ve disappointed you, huh? Don’t you know I’m made of flesh and blood, not moonbeams? Do you think lesbians are somehow less human than straight women?”
Linda rested her head in her hands. What had she expected of Bree? Their kisses the other night had been so beautiful, so transcendent. They were the stuff of fairy tales: the prince waking the sleeping princess, true love’s kiss. A fumbling hand on her breast in a sports car seemed so crass. She could have that with a man, with her first lesbian lover, with Tonda. Somehow she’d thought Bree would be different.
Raising her head, she asked, “How can someone as old as I am be so naive?”
Bree looked surprised. “I suppose that’s one reason I’m so attracted to you. And now you have to go and be honest and direct as well as naive. That’s a fatal combination for someone as jaded as I am.” She took a deep breath. “Tell you what. I’ll try to control the raging-beast side of me if you’ll give me another chance. I honestly care for you, but frankly, I’m used to more action.”
Linda smiled. “Did you forget that we’re in the South, and everything’s way slower here than it is up North in the big city? I need a steady diet of moonbeams and roses, nights of sharing our dreams and fears, before I feel comfortable jumping into bed with you.”
Bree drew back, as if digesting Linda’s words, her right hand clenching the steering wheel. “So you expect a Southern-belle courtship?”
Linda took Bree’s hand and massaged it. “Not at all. In fact, just the opposite. I want us both to be sure we’ve faced all our own demons and will treat each other as equals.” She let go of Bree and turned to face her squarely. “I’m sick of having men and women act like I’m a sweet little buttercup they can pick and set around for decoration.”
“Any ideas how to change that dynamic?” Bree reached out, probably to tweak Linda’s cheek, but pulled her hand back.
“As a matter of fact, I do. I’d like for you to read one of the books I recently loaned you.”
“That sounds easy enough. Which one?”
“Starhawk’s Dreaming the Dark.”
“Why that one?”
“Do you recall the subtitle?”
“No. I just glanced at the book.”
“It’s Magic, Sex, and Politics. She believes people have confused sex with domination, and that’s exactly what I want to avoid in all of my relationships, especially one with a lover.”
“So you’ll give me a chance if I read the book?”
“If you really absorb it, yes.”
Bree was intrigued. “Any chance of a good-night kiss to seal the deal?”
Linda laughed. “You’re incorrigible. And remember. I expect a full report on the book, but don’t rush. It offers a lot to digest.”
Bree pulled Linda into her arms and breathed in her fresh fragrance. How could this woman simultaneously feel so soft and solid, so fairylike yet grounded? As she pressed her lips against Linda’s she forgot everything except the way the moonlight gilded Linda’s hair.
Chapter Twenty-seven
“Have you ever had your cards read?” Linda asked Bree as they sat holding hands on Linda’s couch. A log crackled in the fireplace, which gave off a steady, warm glow against the chilly December wind howling outside.
“You mean by one of those fortune-tellers who advertise on a neon sign stuck in front of their low-rent houses?”
Linda frowned. “What an elitist remark. But you’ve always been a snob, haven’t you?” She softened her words with a kiss on Bree’s palm.
“Guilty as charged, ma’am. Care to elaborate on my transgression?”
“I’m sure a lot of those so-called fortune-tellers are fakes just out to make a buck, but when I see one of their signs, I can’t help but think of the way men have systematically robbed poor people, especially women, of their power and their land for centuries.” She sighed. “Many of those fortune-tellers you look down on would probably have been wealthy, powerful women today if men hadn’t gained control of the matriarchies that once ruled the world.”
“Sounds like you’ve taken Starhawk’s philosophy to heart.”
“Of course. By the way, how are you coming along with Dreaming the Dark?”
“I skimmed it, but then the epilogue made me slow down. I always admired the Renaissance, but Starhawk puts it in a totally different perspective by explaining why so many millions of witches were killed at the time.”
“Yes, and I didn’t tell you, but Sandy was in Starhawk’s coven in California awhile. That’s one reason I feel so connected to her philosophy.”
“Interesting. I’ll peruse it more slowly now. It’s just been a couple of days. Anyway, you asked me about reading cards.”
“Yes. I meant Tarot cards, and you don’t have to visit a fortune-teller to have them read.”
Bree put her arm around Linda and pulled her close. “You mean we can have one come join us?” The scent of fresh herbs made Bree nuzzle Linda’s hair. Being around this woman was more invigorating than anything Bree had ever experienced. Returning to Chicago became less tempting every day.
Linda gently stroked her cheek, then kissed it with a soft caress. “No, silly. And that’s the kind of remark I’m trying to help you stop making.”
“Sorry. I have a lot of bad habits when it comes to the way I’ve treated women.”
“Well, I just happen to have a deck of Tarot cards and a guide to their meaning. In fact, we could read each other’s cards, in private. I’m not expecting any visitors tonight.”
“I can think of something else we could do in private,” Bree murmured, conscious of Linda’s lips still near her cheek. “It resembles reading in braille but requires absolutely no cards or any other type of props. Not even clothes.” Bree flushed all over, certain the burning logs weren’t the cause.
Linda pulled a
way slightly. “Not yet.” Petals seemed to close over her flower-like face. “I told you I want to be more sure of whatever’s between us before we take that step. Sorry for acting so prudish, but it’s too easy to stay stuck in old patterns.”
Now Bree stroked Linda’s cheek. “I never thought I’d say this, but I do understand. And we can wait as long as it takes. In fact, I’m glad we didn’t discover each other earlier in our adult lives. I’m not really as horny as I may seem. Age actually does calm the raging hormones, but it leaves us with a steady glow that more than compensates for the sound and fury of youth.”
“Hmm. You’re a poet.” Linda’s face seemed to open again.
“I’m just trying to understand and express my feelings as truly as I can, so I’m glad to have time to sort them out. If these Tarot cards can help, let’s do it. Read the cards, I mean.”
Linda chuckled. “Okay. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
Bree burrowed into the couch. What did Linda have in store for her now? She listened to the logs crackle in the fireplace. Whatever it was, she was sure she’d enjoy it.
*
On her return, Linda cleared all the magazines and books from her coffee table and pulled a deck of oversized cards from a wooden box. “Have you ever seen any Tarot cards?”
“Yes. I even owned a deck years ago. A beautiful set of the Crowley cards.” Bree shrugged. “But I never really got into them.”
“Oh. Those are gorgeous, but evidently Crowley hated women, so I’ve steered clear of them. Sandy gave me this traditional set the women who wrote this book chose to use.” She held up a tattered red paperback called A Feminist Tarot. “She said the deck’s not perfect, but its symbols are powerful.”
“Looks like you’ve used the book a lot.”
“Yes. Reading my own cards helps me meditate and think through certain issues.” Linda shuffled and cut the cards, trying to relax and clear her mind from the distraction of sitting so near Bree.
“What kind of problems?”
Autumn Spring Page 25
