Touchwood

by Karin Kallmaker

"But — opening day is day after tomorrow," Louisa said. Her voice had a wail. "We were going to have hot dogs and beer!"

  "Knew you'd be pissed," Danny said. "Normally I'd have told him to get another driver because I do not like short notice for something like this, but the engine needs to be drained and tuned up before it hits the road, and, well, I can't walk away from the two grand bonus he's willing to give me."

  "Two thousand dollars?" Louisa and Rayann gasped at the same time.

  "Two grand, plus my usual rates and all expenses of course. Reagonomics at last — I'm being trickled on, finally. Ain't heterosexuality grand?"

  "I'd be really mad if you turned it down," Louisa said. "I can get through the game alone."

  "Don't have to be alone," Danny said. She dug in her pocket and handed her ticket to Rayann. "You seem to like baseball."

  Rayann grinned and didn't know what to say. "You don't have to give it to me," she said, even as her fingers tightened around it. "But thanks. I'll have a beer in your honor."

  "Don't forget the nachos," Danny said. She drained her coffee. "Well, I got to throw some things in a suitcase and head for the airport. I'm not looking forward to the Great Salt Flats, but this Rolls is a 'forty-nine in just about mint condition — pure decadence."

  "Oh, drive safely," Louisa said. She hugged Danny enthusiastically.

  Danny hugged Louisa back and told Rayann to have fun at the game. Rayann assured her she would, while thinking to herself what she'd really enjoy was the company of the woman who would be sitting next to her.

  A light breeze took the edge off the brilliant sunlight as Rayann trudged up the connecting walkway from the BART station to the Oakland Coliseum. She was lagging behind Louisa who cut through the crowd with agility.

  When Rayann came abreast of her, Louisa said, "I love the first sight of the ballpark. The grass seems so pure and untouched. There's just something so clean about baseball."

  "That's Astroturf for you," Rayann said.

  Louisa's eyebrows shot up. "This park is a real park with real grass and real dirt. I'd be seriously upset if they ever changed that."

  "I thought they had."

  "You're nuts," Louisa said. "One look and you'll see."

  Their seats were just beyond the A's dugout only four rows back from the barrier. The vivid green, yellow, red and white of the various uniforms on the field were scattered against the lush grass and blazing blue sky, all combining to assault Rayann's eyes, making her feel as if she'd never seen color before. The bright white of the balls rolling across the field left traces of afterburn in her vision, despite sunglasses. The heat of the sun warmed her skin. It's like a big yellow tongue, licking me all over... Stop that right now. You do not need to think about things like that.

  They toasted the absent Danny by touching their cups of beer. After they consumed their first jumbo dogs, Louisa pointed at the field where various dignitaries were now milling around, preparing for the first pitch of the season. "That is real grass."

  "Looks too green to be real."

  To Rayann's surprise, Louisa got up and went down to the barrier above the dugout. She leaned over, leaving Rayann to admire her flexed body.

  "Hey," she heard Louisa call. "Will somebody down there get me a blade of grass? This young person up here thinks it's Astroturf."

  Rayann gaped when a uniformed player sauntered out of the A's dugout, uprooted a little of the sod and brought it over to Louisa. Clump in hand, Louisa loomed over Rayann. She held the clod over Rayann's head and slowly squeezed. A fine sprinkling of dirt sifted through Louisa's fingers onto Rayann's head and shoulders.

  "Okay, okay, if s real," Rayann said. She squeaked in alarm as a blade of grass fell in her beer. "I was wrong, I admit it." She ducked and tried to cover herself. Louisa laughed and settled into her seat again.

  During the course of the game Rayann was delighted that she could actually concentrate on it, and not on Louisa, though every time Louisa jumped up to follow a long ball into the outfield Rayann would appreciate how shapely her sweatshirt was. Only natural appreciation for beauty.

  In the top of the eighth inning, the young player who'd given Louisa the clump of dirt put his first major league home run, and the first home run of the season, over the fence at dead centerfield. From the crack of the bat Louisa and Rayann were on their feet, following the ball way, way back. "Tell it goodbye," Louisa whooped. She threw her arm around Rayann.

  Their hips met and they rocked as "Can't Touch This" pulsed from the stadium's loudspeakers. Rayann felt the surge of heat flowing through her — the same surge she'd been trying to forget ever since Christmas Eve. It was no use. When Louisa moved away again her body went cold. She could not stop staring at Louisa's clapping hands.

  If only she wouldn't touch me, or look at me, or stand next to me, and if only she'd cover up her hands somehow. She'd lost track of the game. Her legs were rubbery and between her legs she was on fire, melting into her seat. A lengthy at bat was underway, with the A's renowned lead-off man fouling off pitch after pitch, looking for a good one. Rayann couldn't have cared less. Her vision blurred as her body seized energy and used it to fuel the waves of heat that were washing over her. The part of her mind that controlled her senses wasn't capable of thought — deep, burning longing had hijacked her brain and was taking no prisoners.

  Bat connected with baseball yet again, and the resounding crack brought a gasp from the crowd. Rayann looked up and her eyes began to clear. When they focused it was on the baseball, headed straight for her face. No time to react. She scrunched her eyes shut and flinched for the impact.

  She heart it hit something, then someone said, "Nice catch, lady." She opened her eyes. Directly in front of her nose was Louisa's hand, fingers spread and curled around the baseball. Rayann stared at that hand, noting every tendon and freckle. The movie reel in her head started playing back the way she had felt, the way she had moved, the way Louisa had taken her and made love to her — every moment, from the first brush of Louisa's lips to the last surge of her fingers, played on Rayann's body. Even as Louisa dropped the ball into Rayann's lap and shook her hand, flexing and extending her fingers, Rayann slumped in her seat. I can't go on like this.

  "I thought you were on your way to the hospital for sure," Louisa said. She was still shaking her hand. "What on earth were you looking at — it sure wasn't the game."

  I was looking at you. "Thanks," Rayann managed. She picked up the ball in her lap. "I believe you earned this. Is your hand okay?"

  "Oh, yeah," Louisa said nonchalantly. "It's just surprised. Will the ball fit in your coat?"

  Rayann squeezed it into her pocket. The A's eventually won on a two-out, two-strike bases-loaded bunt in the bottom of the twelfth inning. Rayann watched the ball spin like a top, toying with the foul line, threaten to go foul as it spun toward first base. It made her dizzy to watch it, so she closed her eyes, missing the third base runner's triumphant slide and the crowd's roar when the ball stopped a quarter-inch fair. She just didn't care.

  At home, Rayann emptied her pockets, and tried to ignore the shudders that went through her when she looked at the baseball. "Think fast," she said. As soon as Louisa turned, Rayann flipped the ball to her.

  Louisa tried to catch it, but the ball thudded to the floor as Louisa winced.

  "You did hurt yourself," Rayann said. She was at Louisa's side in a flash. "Oh, my God," she moaned when she saw the red, bruised palm.

  "It's just sore," Louisa said, her nonchalance at odds with the proof of the bruise. She gave an involuntary "ouch" when Rayann prodded gently. Her color was unusually high.

  "Why didn't you tell me? I could have gotten some ice from the concession stand." She pressed the protesting Louisa into her easy chair and then hurriedly dropped some ice into a baggie and wrapped it in a paper towel.

  "It's nothing. You don't have to fuss. I don't need a nurse."

  "Hold this in your hand," Rayann commanded.

  "It's not neces�
�� oh, all right. I had no idea you could pout like that."

  "How does it feel?"

  "Good," Louisa said reluctantly, after the ice pack had rested in her hand for few moments. "It's terrible getting old."

  Rayann wanted to drop to her knees and kiss the injured hand tenderly. She wanted to cup it against her face and give it T.L.C. until it felt better. And once it was healed and strong again, she wanted to bring it to her body, invite it to learn her again. "Age has nothing to do with it," she said. "Why do you think the players wear gloves?"

  'To extend their reach," Louisa answered dryly. "I know age is a state of mind, but it's also a state of the body. Mine's about twenty-seven years older than yours."

  Why do you do that? Why do you keep reminding me? There was nothing to say to that, nothing that could be said. "Well, now you have a souvenir for Danny." That's right, bring up Danny and remind yourself that Louisa is happy the way she is.

  "Danny? Oh, shell love it." Louisa closed her eyes and Rayann could see she was in quite a bit of discomfort despite her bravado — flush still covered Louisa's cheeks. She fetched a glass of water and some ibuprofen and forced them on Louisa who submitted with good grace. "Doctor, do I have your permission to go downstairs and take down the 'Closed for Baseball' sign?"

  "No. I'll do it," Rayann said. "And don't take off that ice pack."

  Louisa stared at Rayann. "Dominating type, aren't you?"

  Rayann stared back, blinked, and said, "Not all of the time." Then she escaped to the bookstore, her heart racing. She wiped her palms on her pants, but all the wiping in the world wouldn't keep them dry.

  "Ray, could you get this gentleman a copy of Absalom, Absalom while you're up there?"

  Rayann put two new E.M. Forsters in place and reached over for the Faulkner. When she glanced over her shoulder to tell Louisa she had it, she was startled by the expression on Louisa's face — almost fierce as she watched Rayann clamber down the ladder. She handed over the book and then wondered if she had imagined the look. Louisa's face was as composed as usual.

  "I thought you were going to knock off early," Louisa said as she rang up the purchase.

  "Work is therapy. I'm really blocked on this brochure and the deadline is rapidly approaching. Restocking is so mindless it actually helps me think." Ask me if I'm going to see Zoraida. Rayann was still trying to slip the information that she and Zoraida were no longer seeing each other into the conversation. She didn't want to call too much attention to it, but she wanted Louisa to know.

  "Thanks for stopping in," Louisa said to the customer.

  She started the cash register printing out the day's receipts. "Get the gate, would you, Rayann?"

  Rayann closed and locked the iron gate and shut off the porch lights. Louisa was already heading up the stairs. "Any plans for the evening?" Rayann called after her.

  "Ironing — I'm sick of looking at the pile."

  The store had been busy earlier so Rayann cleared away the remains of their hastily eaten supper while Louisa got out the ironing board and started on the pile of workshirts and pants. The dishes finished, Rayann retrieved her sketchpad and pencils again and sat down in Louisa's easy chair to work.

  She had the overall design finished — what she lacked was a theme. It didn't help her concentration that if she looked just to the left of her sketchpad she could watch Louisa's hands settling a shirt on the ironing board. Her fingers smoothed the collar and straightened the pockets as the iron pressed its way around the button. Then her palms smoothed the cloth as the iron passed over it, long strokes over the back, faster strokes on the sleeves. Her fingers carefully eased each button closed. In Rayann's mind she saw the buttons easing open, not closed.

  The tablecloth was next under Louisa's touch. If those linens were alive they'd be fighting to get in line. Rayann envied the tablecloth from the bottom of her heart. Her palms were so damp the sketch paper was sticking to them. I've got to stop. Rayann knew she was going insane, but there didn't seem anything else to do. Except tell her. But Rayann knew she couldn't. Because it would only embarrass Louisa. Because she'd have to leave afterward. Because there was Danny.

  Almost as if Rayann's thoughts had conjured her up, Danny was pounding on the back door. Louisa turned the iron off with a grateful sigh and went to let Danny in. Rayann heard her voice drop from her usual ebullient greeting to a more refined and formal tone, telling someone she was glad to meet them.

  Danny entered first, her usual heel-to-toe swagger more pronounced than ever. She was followed by another woman whom Rayann guessed was in her late forties, maybe early fifties, with neatly styled brown hair and pale blue eyes. She looked nervous. Danny sat down on the sofa and patted the place next to her. The woman sat where Danny had indicated, perched right on the edge.

  Louisa said, "Can I get you both some coffee?"

  "Sure," Danny said.

  "Here, let me," Rayann said. What on earth is going on?

  "Marilyn, this is Rayann. Rayann, this here is Marilyn." Rayann shook hands and answered Marilyn's shy greeting. She went to the kitchen and poured the cool coffee they'd made around dinnertime into mugs and then heated them in the microwave. She nearly dropped both steaming cups when she realized what Danny was saying.

  "... finally said she'd live with me. Took her long enough to make up her mind."

  "I never had any doubts about you, sweetie," Marilyn said in a quiet voice. "I just wasn't sure I could make you any happier than you were."

  "Well, I'm happy for you both," Louisa said. "Danny's just been a bear lately."

  Rayann carefully set the stoneware mugs on the counter, then gripped the edge to keep from falling over backward. "Cream or sugar, Marilyn?" Her voice cracked.

  She saw Louisa give her a puzzled look, but she added a spoonful of sugar to Marilyn's coffee without spilling more than half on the counter. She managed to bring the mugs out to Danny and Marilyn without spilling anything, but once she'd sat down she had to stuff her hands under her thighs to hide their shaking.

  "What do you do, Marilyn," Louisa asked. Marilyn gained confidence when she talked about her career as a physical therapist, a little color creeping into pale cheeks.

  It took Rayann about fifteen minutes to completely process the incredibly stupid mistake she'd made, and another fifteen minutes to reevaluate her perception of Louisa and Danny as lovers. There was no doubt that Louisa and Danny loved each other very much, but Rayann really hadn't any concrete evidence that they were lovers. If they're not lovers, then why didn't she want me again? Why doesn't she want me now? Rayann's mind kept turning over. She watched Danny relax as Louisa and Marilyn talked. She realized that Danny had brought Marilyn to Louisa for approval. She needed to know that her best friend and lover would get along. I am so stupid, so stupid.

  When Danny and Marilyn left, with Louisa's assurance that it had been a pleasure and they'd all be getting together soon, Louisa turned to Rayann with a concerned look. "You're white as a ghost," she said. "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing," Rayann said. I can't tell her. Yes, I can. I have to. "I thought — I thought you and Danny — you and Danny were — were lovers."

  "What?" Louisa stared at Rayann, astounded.

  "You stayed the night with her after the party at the Lace Place."

  "I thought you might be bringing Zoraida home."

  That threw Rayann. She thought about it and said, "Danny's slept over here a couple of times."

  "Slept, yes. I needed to talk to her, needed comfort. I've done the same for her."

  "Comfort?"

  "It's possible to have a long friendship with someone and never want to have sex," Louisa said defensively. "I save sex for love."

  Rayann was suddenly drenched with a cold sweat. "I'm not seeing Zoraida anymore," she blurted out. Louisa paled. Rayann knew without doubt that her life was hanging on what she said next. "I found out I have to save sex for love." Rayann took a step closer to Louisa. "And I didn't love Zoraida, not that way. I
'm in love with someone else." She took another step. Louisa didn't answer, only watched Rayann's slow approach with wide eyes. A frantic pulse beat in Rayann's throat. "Louisa, I love you."

  Louisa closed her eyes. "You can't."

  "I do."

  'It's just… you feel grateful." Louisa opened her eyes again, and Rayann withstood the piercing gaze.

  "No."

  "We spend so much time together, it's just…"

  "No," Rayann said again, shaking her head. Now that she had said the words, a wonderful rush of confidence surged through, buoying her. "I'm in love with you. I want to make love with you very, very much."

  "You can't," Louisa said again.

  "I do." Rayann took the final step and stood so close to Louisa that all she had to do was lean forward if she wanted to kiss her. And she wanted to kiss Louisa.

  Louisa put her hands to her face. "Rayann, I can't do this to you."

  "Do what?" Rayann realized Louisa was trembling.

  "Hold you back. Keep you from the rest of your life. Your future."

  "Let's build a life together. My life, your life. Our life."

  "I'm so much older," Louisa whispered. "Have you considered that?"

  "I'm so much younger," Rayann said. "I have so much to learn it scares me."

  "No," Louisa murmured. "Dear God."

  Rayann took Louisa's hands from her face, and placed them on her own flushed cheeks. The strong hands trembled there as Louisa drew in her breath sharply. "I don't need charity."

  "I can't afford charity. All I have to give is love." Rayann focused on Louisa's trembling lips. Louisa made a sound — a tiny gasp. The inches separating their lips melted away and Rayann kissed her.

  Louisa's hands slid down Rayann's face, to her throat, then her shoulders. The uncertain grip on Rayann's shoulders became firm as Rayann brushed her lips against Louisa's chin, then the corners of her mouth.

  "I want you so much," Rayann murmured.

  Control slipped away as Louisa's hands moved slowly and deliberately on her back, then down. Her fingers eased under Rayann's sweatshirt, brushing the bare skin. One hand remained on her back, holding Rayann tightly against Louisa while the other hand slid slowly around to the button and zipper of Rayann's jeans, easing them open.