Once inside, I watched the gray windows streaked with water and still more rain shooting down like bullets across the glass. Everything seemed so angry. Maybe God was punishing us. Shivering, we took cover in the back aisle behind the Ding Dongs and Twinkies.
“Do they have to blast the air conditioner like that?” I kept whining as I tried to wipe my arms dry.
“It’s Florida.” Adrienne put her arm around me. “Sorry about this,” she said.
“It’s okay,” I said, realizing I was being a baby. I had to get over myself. Mother Nature could be a bitch, and there was no changing her mind today.
The wind blew so hard against the glass windows and doors, it sounded as if they might burst. I jumped with each new startling sound. Even the worst thunderstorm back home never sounded like this. More people rushed in from outside, trying to take cover near the ice machine or behind the counter. We stayed in the back, the farthest away from the glass.
“They should’ve put tape on the windows,” Adrienne said.
The water level began to rise until it was above the ankles of people running on the other side of the glass. I slid down the Twinkie-stuffed shelves, grabbing my knees.
“You okay?” Adrienne asked, crouching down beside me.
“Yeah,” I answered. “Twinkies will save us.” There it was again—the sarcasm that tried to mask my fear.
She touched my face. Her fingers ran down my cheek so slowly, I felt it as a caress. “You had some mascara,” she muttered. “It was running.” It really didn’t make sense, but I didn’t care. “So you like Boyd?”
“What?” I’d forgotten our previous conversation.
“Boyd, you know. You were telling me how you feel.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m kind of distracted with the end of the world out there.” But she really seemed to want to know. “It’s not exactly him,” I managed. “I think you know who it is.”
The next crash of thunder hit and the lights went out. People in the store stayed pretty quiet, mesmerized by the view outside.
“No, I don’t,” Adrienne said quietly. “You never talk about anyone.”
I was in that place where I had to decide if it was better to hide behind the Twinkies in fear or face the lightning. “It’s you,” I said finally in a big exhale, not looking at her. In the next moment I felt her arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. When I looked at her, she was staring at the ice cream in the freezer straight ahead. It seemed she couldn’t look at me, either. “Well?” I was going to push the issue; I shouldn’t have to go it alone anymore. “It’s been so weird, the way we’ve never really talked about that night, you know?”
“It seemed like a dream,” she said, still not looking at me.
My head went numb. A dream is something that isn’t real, something you can wake from that has nothing to do with reality. Was that really what she wanted? To see it as something unreal? Of course. Everything she’d done since that night proved it.
Dream. I analyzed the word in my mind. It was funny. You go through life hearing a million words that don’t mean anything. And suddenly one word takes on the greatest meaning of all. How exactly did she mean it?
I sat back on my heels and tried to breathe. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Believe me, I don’t want to feel this way. But to me, it was more than a dream. It was real.”
“It was real to me too.”
I was confused. “You don’t regret it? You seemed like you wished we hadn’t…you said you drank too much.”
She finally looked at me. “I had to say something. I thought you’d freak out.” Then I saw a look I couldn’t read in her shiny, brown eyes. It may have been fear. She pulled me closer and we held each other a long time in the back aisle as the rain poured.
The counter clerk saw us and said, “It’s going to be all right, ladies. You’re not going to die or anything.”
We pulled apart and realized that the storm had let up. Of course he thought we were doing a final embrace because of the weather. Hysterical women.
She stood up to check the windows. I watched her with a mixture of relief and elation, not to mention the ever-present fear. What did this mean? What would happen now?
The ride back was unusually quiet. Obviously, we both had a lot of thinking to do. I had trouble hearing my own thoughts with the heavy metal tapes that she kept putting in, one after another. I looked out the window at the passing tropical scenery, so oddly calm after the storm. A purple sky was spreading overhead as the afternoon lingered on. Alice Cooper screamed about a woman he’d better not touch, someone he wanted to get closer to but couldn’t or shouldn’t. How apropos. I tried not to listen, but the music was mimicking every thought I had.
Then I realized…there was still the issue of Sean. Was I nothing more than a fling, or the dreaded experiment in college that so many girls later admit to? I remembered how Adrienne had told me that while she was in college, she just wanted to have some fun. What if I was her fun? I sat perfectly still and said nothing for most of the ride home.
When we returned to the dorm, students were crowded into the lobby, watching the weather on TV. Lydia was the first to confront us.
“I warned you two about the weather!” she exclaimed. “Why would you go out in this?”
“It was fine this morning,” I explained. “We thought we’d be back before it hit.” Lydia believed me. I think Adrienne was impressed that her do-gooder roommate could be such a cool liar.
“Well,” Lydia said gruffly. “You need to stay in now. It’s mandatory. A Category 3 is churning in the Gulf.” Her gestures were very dramatic. “We’re just getting the outer bands.”
“You mean this isn’t the storm?” I exclaimed.
“No, it’s not.” Lydia’s hands were on her hips.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Adrienne sighed. “We’re in a brick building.” She glanced at the TV screen. “It’s heading west anyway.”
“That may be!” Lydia snapped. “But guess where the most dangerous side of a hurricane is? Where we are, the east part. We’ll be getting fierce winds and rain all night. So you two better hunker down.”
We laughed all the way back to our room.
“Hunker down!” Adrienne mocked her, throwing her keys on the desk. “Let’s be sure to ‘hunker down.’ Jesus, does anyone really say that?”
“Apparently she does.”
We laughed harder.
As rain pelted the window of our tiny room, I cracked open a beer. The devil on my shoulder wanted to lose control again. “Let’s have a hurricane party,” I said excitedly.
“The girl who doesn’t party?” Adrienne’s mouth broke into a slow smile. “Don’t you have to study?” she teased.
“I can’t go to the library tonight,” I said, taking a sip. “The drill sergeant out there would kill me.” To be honest, I wanted to re-create the situation that had resulted with her in my bed. The part of my brain that wasn’t working would have done anything to make it happen again. Take that, Reverend Butler!
She laughed, pulling out a beer for herself. “She’s probably called in the military to guard the doors.” Ever since our conversation in the convenience store, Adrienne seemed odd around me. Maybe she was nervous. “I could call Nancy upstairs.”
I took a step toward her, setting my beer can on the desk. “That wasn’t the kind of party I had in mind…unless you’re scared.” I slid my arms around her neck, suddenly feeling bolder than ever. This time it wasn’t the beer talking.
Adrienne backed away. I stood, dangling, in the middle of the room, feeling a lump swell in my throat. She took my hand and sat me down on my bed. We sat side by side against the wall, under Bette Davis, with our legs tucked up beside each other. The seconds that passed might as well have been a hundred years. I watched as she traced the sharp edge of the opening of her beer can. “I’m not scared,” she said.
“Really?”
She lowered her eyes. This was the first time I’d seen her lo
ok really vulnerable. I thought I understood so much more about her now. “I just…”
“I’m not your type,” I teased. “You think I’m too uptight.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yeah, you do!” I laughed. “And it’s okay. But I’m not.”
“I know! I’m starting to think you’re the wild one of the two of us.”
“Not hardly.” I dissolved into giddy laughter, shaking my head more times than necessary. “You have that honor.”
* * *
Under the watchful eye of Bette Davis, I was just an eighteen-year-old girl in love. It was innocent and frightening in ways it didn’t have to be, other than the usual terror of falling in love with someone who never made you feel sure you were standing on solid ground.
“It’s just that…” Adrienne struggled. “I’m not queer, you know.” She looked at me with a pained expression.
My face, my entire body, spread with the heat of embarrassment and humiliation. I had to somehow scrape my pride off the floor. “It’s okay,” I said. When I looked at her again, I was so busy concentrating on how to look cool and undaunted by her revelation that I didn’t even remember her face or what she said next. There was only an ache inside, a pain stronger than any I’d ever known, getting stronger inside me. “Excuse me.” I had to go out to the bathroom where I could let it all go. The last thing I wanted was for her to see me cry. That was something I’d never, ever show her.
Chapter Forty-Five
Robin paused on the stair, realizing that Adrienne hadn’t closed her apartment door yet. Then another thought surfaced—the possibility that this chapter of her life didn’t have to be closed if she didn’t want it to be. There was such freedom in opening herself to the idea of joy, pure joy, and possibility, again. She climbed the stairs, ignoring every thought that tried to pull her back down. She met Adrienne in the doorway, took her face in her hands and kissed her like it was the end of the world.
Adrienne pulled back. “Do you know what you’re doing?”
Robin nodded, still lingering on her lips, her chin, and thinking only about everything she wanted to do to her. She wouldn’t deny herself, not now. As she tried to pull her tighter to her, Adrienne stopped her again.
“Because I don’t play games,” Adrienne said. “Not anymore.”
Robin kissed her again, holding her tightly so Adrienne wouldn’t change her mind. Then Adrienne held her hands and led her inside.
* * *
Adrienne’s bedroom was decorated as warmly, as invitingly as the rest of her apartment, which shouldn’t have been all that surprising to Robin. But it reminded her that Adrienne was, in fact, an adult. There wouldn’t be posters of hair bands on the walls. Robin smiled to herself, grateful for the passage of time and warmed by the memory of the girl she used to know. They fell upon a down comforter, and Robin couldn’t hide her smile.
“What?” Adrienne traced her mouth and searched her eyes.
“Remembering.” Robin’s smile was bigger and more joyful than it had been in years. She felt slightly self-conscious as Adrienne continued tracing the features of her face. She imagined what Adrienne must have been thinking—her drooping eyelids, sagging cheeks. Of course Robin imagined them so much worse in her mind.
“You’re beautiful,” Adrienne said, almost in a whisper. Hearing Robin’s sharp intake of breath, like a gasp, Adrienne took her into her arms and kissed her so deeply, urgently, erasing all thought, all reason from Robin’s mind.
They peeled off each other’s clothes in a passionate fury, years of ache and desire, too long unanswered…for Robin, it felt like her last chance to be free.
She held Adrienne’s face gently as she laid kiss after kiss on her soft, yielding mouth, kissing her cheeks, her eyelids…
Adrienne laughed at the frenetic kisses; it was as if Robin only had seconds to live and was getting every last bit of pleasure she could find in this life. There was a sense of frenzy, as they reached for each other with eager hands. Adrienne’s bronze skin wrapped around Robin’s pale, porcelain body, intertwined in a raw, sensual dance. Robin was unapologetic and bold, the way she caressed the round fullness of Adrienne’s breasts, something she’d imagined—and remembered—for so long. The feel and scent of her skin, it was so familiar to her, so perfectly intoxicating. As Robin mounted her, Adrienne’s hands were cupping her backside possessively, then gliding slowly up to her shoulders, in awe of her.
They moved so easily together, as moonlight cast its spell of shadows and made more perfect the imperfections of the day.
Like an old movie, the moon’s streaming light gave Adrienne’s face a gentle, Hollywood glow. Robin stroked it, yearning to see every expression as she touched her.
Adrienne felt her longing and answered with caresses almost too unbearably real for Robin, making her want more.
As the hours ticked by, Robin’s insatiable desire only grew. She held Adrienne’s strong thighs and pushed them apart, driving her wild with thrashes of her tongue, her lips. Robin remembered Curious Wine and the Emily Dickinson poem it referenced: “I had been hungry all the years…my noon had come to dine…” The feel of Adrienne’s raised hips, quivering, convulsing…she was so utterly lost in the moment, she almost didn’t hear her begging her to stop. She slid up the length of her beautiful, bronze-like body and held her.
“I’m sorry,” Robin whispered.
“Don’t be, please.” Adrienne tried to catch her breath. “I haven’t been…treated like that in years.” She laughed. “It was so good I need a cigarette. And I don’t smoke anymore.”
Robin could feel her cheek in a smile against her chest, her heart still thudding so fast.
The night seemed to stretch out with no end, with Robin losing herself next, shuddering, as Adrienne enjoyed her, with expert fingertips never losing contact with her breasts and her whole writhing body.
Before long, the light shifted behind the window curtain, a silent warning for Robin. As Adrienne slept, she checked her phone. Peter’s voice mail messages reminded her of the reality waiting right outside the door. No matter how long she stayed here, she couldn’t shut out the world forever.
She hurriedly grabbed her clothes off the floor. With one step of her foot on a creaky floorboard, Adrienne began to stir in the bed. She raised up slightly on her elbows and looked at the clock.
“It’s early,” Adrienne said. “Can’t you stay for breakfast?”
“Oh no,” Robin answered. “I have to get back to the hotel.”
She knew she needed to leave before dawn broke, before her identity was revealed to everyone on the street. And she knew she couldn’t be seen arriving at the hotel; it would only spark another scandal.
“Oh.” Adrienne’s face fell as the reality set in for her. She threw off the sheet, tempting Robin with her nude body lying there. “I guess you have to go back to being a big, self-righteous right-winger.”
“Don’t.” Robin sat on the edge of the bed. “Don’t ruin it.”
“Ruin what?” Adrienne sat up. “What’s there to ruin? What is this?”
“You’ve given me a wonderful memory. But that’s all.” Robin glanced at her bare breasts, then looked away. She rushed to gather the rest of her things. Sadly, she had to accept that her joy couldn’t last forever. There was too much at stake.
Adrienne bolted out of bed and followed her to the living room. She seemed to enjoy how uneasy she was making her, the way Robin couldn’t even look at her.
“Could you please put some clothes on?” Robin was obviously uncomfortable.
“You didn’t seem to mind last night. In fact, you preferred me without clothes.” Adrienne purposely straddled a barstool by the kitchen counter, revealing the still glistening wetness between her legs.
Robin ached but turned away to pick up her coat from the couch. “You knew this wouldn’t be able to last,” she said. “We can’t make more of it than it was.”
“I told you I don’t play games.”
<
br /> Robin turned to face her—Adrienne’s arms were folded over her breasts and her legs still wide open…
“What do we call this?” Robin said, gesturing to Adrienne’s pose.
“Touch me one more time,” Adrienne said. “If you can and you still leave, I’ll believe it’s over.”
Robin approached her slowly and reached for her face. But Adrienne took her hand and drew her finger along the velvety, wet center of her. Adrienne’s breath caught in her throat. Robin couldn’t stop stroking her once she’d begun. Adrienne kissed her so hard that everything in Robin’s head began to swirl.
Minutes later, Robin was undressed again, and they were slow dancing in the living room, their hearts pounding. Robin’s whole body felt like a flowing river of peace, relaxation, an exquisite pleasure she hadn’t experienced in so many years.
* * *
Adrienne wore a long, soft button-down shirt as she fixed them coffee. Robin, back in her flannel shirt and jeans, reclined on the couch, watching her tanned legs with admiration.
“You know,” Robin said, “I used to look for the light on in our window when I came back from classes. I’d get excited to know you were back…with your reading lamp on.” She smiled to herself at the memory.
“I have a confession too,” Adrienne said, handing her a steamy mug. “I used to sit at the window and watch for you to come up the hill.”
Robin broke out in a slow smile that quickly turned to sadness. She only took one sip of her coffee before she said, “You know I can’t stay.” She knew she was now going to have to outrun the sunrise if she was going to make it back undetected. It might still be possible. “It’s been so…wonderful.” Words failed her, but everything she felt was in her deep blue eyes, which could barely hold back the flood as she made her way to the door.
“Yeah.” Adrienne followed her, waving her hand like nothing mattered. “I don’t know why I’ve been so nice to you. You’ll probably win, you know. And now, after this, can you say with a straight face that what we are is unnatural?”
Hurricane Days Page 19
