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Frosting on the Cake

Page 2

by Karin Kallmaker

hurt to look at her. The memories were all there in a rush.

  The affable Tom who had donated the sperm to help make

  Herine, and his death six years later from the mysterious “gay

  disease” that swept through the gay male community of San

  Francisco. Jessica remembered Herine’s screeching entry into

  the world and the horrible nine and a half minutes when it

  had appeared that Cat might hemorrhage to death. With the

  clarity of a movie she could see Herine’s first step, and hear

  her first word, “More.” Every broken bone from gymnastics,

  each broken-heart episode from junior high—it was all there. She recalled, too, how hard both Herine and Cat had cried

  after that one big fight in high school, when “I hate you both!”

  had been instantly followed with “I didn’t mean it!” They were so much alike, and here was Herine like a mirror to Cat. There were so many hugs, so much laughter over the years that the memory of it enveloped Jessica in a glow of peace. She squeezed Cat’s elbow, trying to convey that they had done

  a good job. A spectacularly good job.

  Herine gazed at Rob with ardent devotion, none of her

  usual humor about her. She was serious, as serious as Cat had

  been at their own wedding. For a moment Jessica wanted

  to stop everything, because there was no way that Rob was

  worthy of her beloved daughter. The moment passed as

  she realized again Rob was no longer the thief of her most

  treasured possession but a member of the family. He was

  worthy, and that fact was deeply calming. Still, her heart ached

  when Herine touched Rob’s hand, then stood tall and proud

  by his side. Jessica predicted that Herine’s marriage would

  be as happy as her own. Herine and Rob spent a lot of time

  gazing into each other’s eyes, but they also looked outward in

  the same direction with steadfast passion.

  Camille, the darling and most wicked of Herine’s friends,

  was smirking at her. Jessica didn’t realize why until she felt the

  tears on her cheeks. Then Camille’s pert smile crumpled and

  she joined the other bridesmaids in tears.

  Tissues were passed all around. Noses were dabbed in

  unison as the minister began, “Dearly beloved…” Cat surreptitiously helped herself to a fresh tissue. She

  muttered, “I knew you’d cry”

  “Are you going to sleep?”

  “I think so.”

  “Good.” Cat was laughing.

  “We don’t do that often enough.”

  “I know, but what we lack in quantity we make up for in

  quality.” Her hand on Jessica’s hip was lazily tracing a circle. “It’s an interesting proposition. When you like something is it better to have a little all the time or save it up for having a whole bunch all at once?”

  “Doesn’t matter what we prefer, it’s what’s practical that matters. We may have a truly empty nest now, but you travel at least one week a month and the hotel has busy seasons.”

  Jessica rolled over to look up into Cat’s face. “You’d think our schedules would coordinate better than that after all these years.”

  “Retirement, darling. Just keep saying the word…I retire in three years.”

  “Retirement—who would have thought that I’d find that word a turn-on?”

  Cat’s fingertip moved slowly from hip to thigh. “Then we’ll both be working one week a month doing conferences, and the rest of the time—”

  “I work more than just the week I’m on the road.”

  “I know, but when you finish that book we’ll both have more time for this.”

  “Retirement,” Jessica purred sleepily. “Retirement.”

  “We could be grandmothers by then.”

  Jessica’s eyes flew open. “Do you know something I don’t know?”

  “No, but it’s just a possibility.”

  “Stop laughing. You’ll be one too.”

  Cat’s hand went back to stroking the inside of Jessica’s thigh. “Do you really want to go to sleep?”

  “I can sleep later…”

  * * * “Are you going to eat all that?”

  “I was planning to.” Cat looked forlornly into the bottom

  of the carton of Dolce de Leche. “There’s a couple of bites left, I guess.” She surrendered the carton and spoon. Jessica pushed them back. “You finish it.”

  Cat’s eyes said I adore you, then they returned their gaze to the book balanced precariously on one knee. “A meteor really did kill off the dinosaurs.”

  Jessica muted the infomercial for a moment. “See, she just dumps in all the ingredients—it’s oh so simple—and yet when she opens the Wonder Pot back up, the ingredients have conveniently arranged themselves for best filming.”

  “The cloud cover after impact lasted perhaps as long as fifty years.”

  “A complete three-course meal in seven minutes.”

  Cat padded down the stairs with her empty carton and spoon. She returned a few minutes later with a bowl. “We only had Chocolate Galaxy”

  “I’ll live. Thanks.” Jessica savored a mouthful of the gooey ice cream, then pointed at the screen. “Right there—did you see how hard the spokesmodel had to work to move that thing? She tries hard not to let it show, but that cooker weighs a ton.”

  Cat turned the page of her book.

  “Now how did that ground beef get stirred so perfectly into the rest of the ingredients when it was all on the bottom when she started?”

  “Did you know that there has been an extinction-causing event every thirty million years?”

  “I don’t care how tender it is, personally, I wouldn’t eat a pot roast sliced by a library card.”

  “It coincides with every time the earth passes through the plane of the Milky Way. Last time was the dinosaurs and the meteor.”

  “How can you cook a cup of rice with a quarter-cup of liquid?”

  “When the meteor hit the Yucatan Peninsula in Mexico it spewed iridium as far as Alaska.”

  “And get this—three hundred dollars for three pots and a bunch of cookware utensils. We should have gotten the kids a set for a wedding gift.”

  Cat gave in to an enormous yawn. “Since she likes to cook about as much as I do, Herine would have beaten you to death with that cooker. I’m going to sleep.”

  Jessica set her empty bowl on the bedside table and turned off the TV. She snuggled under the covers, stifling her own yawn.

  Out of the darkness, Cat asked, “Why doesn’t the rice burn?”

  “Must be magic rice.”

  Jessica drifted for a while. “You still awake?” Cat made a quiet noise that meant she was marginally alert. “When do we next pass through the plane of the Milky Way?”

  “Another ten million years.”

  “Oh. That’s a relief.”

  Cat hooked her ankle over Jessica’s. “I’m asleep.”

  “We’ll really be an old married couple by then.” Published: Characters:

  Setting:

  Touchwood

  1990

  Rayann Germaine, wood sculptor and advertising artist

  Louisa Thatcher, bookstore owner Michelle, Rayann’s ex-lover and ex-friend Judy, Rayann’s best friend

  Dedric, Judy’s lover

  Oakland, California

  The Second is for Spilling over

  Satisfaction

  (5 months) “Hello, Rayann.”

  “Michelle!”

  Rayann stood there with one hand on the silky lingerie

  undies she had been considering and stared blankly at her exlover. She knew she should have thought ahead to the day when she would finally run into Michelle casually. Bumping into her last New Year’s Eve at the dance had provided little opportunity to chat, thank goodness.

&
nbsp; “How have you been?” Michelle’s question was accompanied by a pointed look at the undies.

  Rayann smoothed the scarlet silk, then nonchalantly took her hand away. It had been almost a year since she’d walked in on Michelle and another woman. “Fine. Great, in fact.” It was the truth. She wouldn’t try to explain Louisa. Michelle would never get it.

  “That’s great.” Michelle looked uncharacteristically nervous for a moment. “Are you seeing anybody new?”

  She had last seen Michelle at the New Year’s Eve party. Zoraida, who had understood the need for Michelle to see Rayann having a wonderful, carefree time, had escorted Rayann. Zoraida had since moved to Lake Tahoe with a new love, sans rancor. Louisa occupied Rayann’s heart and mind now, and always would.“Yes, as a matter of fact.You don’t know her. We went to Greece a few months ago for my mother’s wedding. Had our picture taken on Lesbos.” Chew on that, Rayann thought. Funny, she couldn’t find enough resentment to add “you lying, cheating bitch” to her thoughts.

  “Sounds fun.”

  Michelle reached over to touch the undies Rayann had been considering. She was now standing very close. There had been a time when that crooked smile, the half-closed lids and the exotic scent Michelle dabbed behind her ears had made Rayann weak in the knees and judgment.

  It didn’t today. It made her remember last night, when Louisa had locked the stairwell door that led to the bookstore and said huskily, “Dinner can wait, can’t it?”

  Rayann’s breath caught in her throat at what the memory did to her, just the thought of Louisa’s fingertips on her shoulders and the kiss that had started against the wall in the kitchen and led slowly, deliciously, to bed.

  Michelle looked up from her study of the panties and Rayann felt herself flush. For a moment, thinking about the silk of Louisa’s mouth on her thighs, she had forgotten Michelle was even there. Remembering the brush of Louisa’s black and silver hair over her stomach had even made her forget where she was.

  “I’ve been hoping I would run into you.” Michelle spoke quietly, again with uncharacteristic nervousness. “Do you have time for a cup of coffee? We could sit at the fountain and enjoy the sun for a while.”

  “I—”

  “Give me a chance to say I’m sorry about how we broke up.”

  Rayann had just been killing time in the department store. She was rarely in San Francisco since moving in with Louisa, but she was meeting her mother for dinner and a movie in an hour. Louisa had urged her to take the late afternoon off, saying she never rested. As if Louisa ever rested, Rayann thought. “I have a little time, I guess.” She glanced at the scarlet bikini briefs again and was momentarily awash with the fantasy of Louisa peeling them off of her.

  “Great,” Michelle said. “I could certainly use some caffeine.”

  They took the elevator down to the plaza level and chitchatted, while they waited for their coffees, about the weather and the rigors of Michelle’s continuing medical residency. Rayann sipped her frozen cappuccino and smiled, remembering the mess she and Louisa had made when one morning they’d become so distracted with each other they’d forgotten to put the coffeepot under the dripping filter.

  The afternoon was the usual mid-October glory of blue sky and cool breezes. Workers from nearby offices basked on the fountain steps as sunlight glinted off the distinctive obelisk that sat atop the Museum of Modern Art. Rayann instinctively walked her favorite path through the gardens to perch on the edge of the long holding pond that fed the curtain of water over the Martin Luther King Jr. tribute.

  A band playing plastic drums punctuated the ripple of running water. Louisa would love it, Rayann thought. “So…” Rayann tried to hide her start of confusion. She’d forgotten Michelle was there again. “So?”

  “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I should never have said I was going to be faithful to you.”

  “That did start me out with the wrong expectation,” Rayann said lightly. She had not thought Michelle could admit to any kind of error, so it was gratifying to hear.

  Michelle fiddled with the collar of her shirt. “You wouldn’t have moved in with me if I hadn’t lied.”

  “Mm-hmm,” Rayann confirmed. “It would have spared us both something if you’d just been honest.”

  “We still had some real happiness.”

  “You had your version of happiness,” Rayann said without heat. There had been a time when she had thought she’d never forget the sight of Michelle wrapped between another woman’s legs, but the image was now hard to recall. She could not even remember the pattern of what had been her favorite sheets. “Me whenever you wanted. Someone else whenever you wanted. My happiness was based on ignorance.”

  “I was selfish.”

  Rayann blinked. Had she heard right? In the Breakup According to Michelle, Rayann’s need for the illusion of fidelity was the only reason Michelle had lied. Rayann looked at Michelle more carefully. “Thank you for admitting that. It was the lies, in the end, that hurt the most. I’ve kicked myself for believing you when your history should have told me that just wasn’t who you were. But I never lied to you, and I hope I never invited you to lie to me.”

  “I thought so at first. I thought you didn’t care about the other women, you just didn’t want to know. I was wrong and it didn’t take me too long to realize it. But I still wanted you with me. I’m sorry that it hurt you.”

  It was like a dream, after all the heartbreak and depression leaving Michelle had caused her. She had been broke, with no place to go except back to her mother’s. At that time, it had been an untenable solution. Rayann didn’t quite know what to say. She remembered one of her mother’s rules for proper social behavior: Be gracious in victory. “Apology accepted,” she said slowly. “We wanted different things.”

  “Not always,” Michelle said quickly. “Sometimes we wanted exactly the same thing.”

  Rayann fought back a blush. “That was why we were together for three years. Because sometimes it was perfect. I can’t say you did me a favor, but I’m in a better place now because of it. So in a way I owe you thanks. You made me open a new door.”

  A new door—never in her life had Rayann imagined she would find such consuming passion and fulfilling friendship as she had with Louisa. She had been close to rock bottom, wandering the streets of Oakland wondering what she would do. The only money she’d had was Michelle’s and she’d hated needing anything of hers. She’d walked miles with a suitcase, not knowing where she would sleep.Alienated from her mother by yet another fight, she’d been lost and frightened when Louisa had offered the spare bedroom and meals in return for work in the bookstore. It had taken time, lots of it, but once they had both accepted the mystery of their attraction despite the 27 years that separated them, their lives had snapped into place. She got up every day singing inside and ended every day where she most wanted to be, next to Louisa.

  Their most serious argument of the last two months had been over Louisa’s flat refusal to let Rayann repaint the house and bookstore. Instead, Louisa had hired a company to do it, insisting Rayann no longer needed to earn her keep with manual labor. Rayann had argued that she should do it because they were a family now and she was capable of it.

  Louisa had laughed with all her Garboesque tones, melting Rayann’s resolve on the spot. “You want the real reason? I can’t stand the idea of you being exhausted and worn out for weeks on end when I can afford to pay someone to do it.”

  Rayann had started to protest more vigorously, but the look in Louisa’s eye, the twitch of her fingers as she gazed at Rayann’s body, made Rayann stop. She crossed the room to kiss Louisa instead, whispering, “You’re right. There are better ways to use my energy.”

  Louisa’s hands had been firm under the waistband of Rayann’s jeans, smoothing, cupping, stroking. Rayann had yielded instantly, inviting Louisa to slide one hand lower, to tease her, to make her ache.

  “You look good, you really do.”

  Rayann was abruptly aware th
at she had uncrossed her legs as she had thought about Louisa’s touch. Michelle knew her sex drive was frequently in the on position, but she couldn’t know that Louisa moved her to heights and depths Michelle hadn’t even glimpsed.“Happiness will do that,” she said lamely.

  “Well, I think I’ve finally finished sowing my wild oats,” Michelle said. “I’m tired of musical beds. Tired of not being able to make plans. Like I want to go on a cruise, but you have to book so far ahead. I realized I wouldn’t want to go alone but had no idea which girlfriend I’d choose to go with me. It made me think of you.”

  The memory of Louisa’s fingers teasing her sent a quiver down Rayann’s arms. It made it hard to follow what Michelle was saying. “Why me?”

  “Because—because I want to have that again. Knowing who’ll be in my life tomorrow.”

  “Wanting it doesn’t make it happen.”

  Michelle seemed to be breathing hard. Her eyes were intent, her cheeks flushed. “Why not? We used to have enough want to start a forest fire. I was an idiot for letting you leave me. Nothing’s been right ever since.”

  “Oh—” Rayann was so startled by Michelle’s kiss that at first she responded. She was dry brush all the time with Louisa providing endless flame. For just a moment, Michelle’s lips added to the prickles of fire already running down Rayann’s arms.

  They weren’t Louisa’s lips. Even as Michelle wound her fingers in Rayann’s hair, a gesture that had never failed in the past to open Rayann’s mouth for deeper kissing, Rayann was trying to pull away. Louisa was the cause of any passion she felt. Michelle just happened to be attached to the lips. She wanted Louisa’s lips and all the rest of her.

  She didn’t struggle, and Michelle eventually came up for air. Rayann found herself grinning into Michelle’s bemused face.

  “I wasn’t trying to make you laugh,” Michelle said a trifle testily.

  “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just not going to work.”

  “Are you sure?” Michele touched Rayann’s lower lip with her fingertip, but when it failed to end Rayann’s smile, her hand dropped away. “I see.”

  “I really have found someone else.”

  “I wasn’t sure. You seemed…like you always were.”

 

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