Camptown Ladies

by Mari SanGiovanni

  I found myself in two places at once. I was back with her the first time in the woods, and with her now, the perfect scent of her coming back to me in full detail (how had I forgotten so much?), remembering the feel of her skin and the sounds she made. I was remembering what it had been like to have her then, and the sublime feeling of what it felt to have her now. It was too much. It was just right. It was not enough. It would never be.

  I was so lost in kissing her and the feel of her body once again under mine, that I wasn’t aware she had slid her hand down the back of my pants until she was digging her nails into my backside, deftly sliding one hand around my hip to land between my legs. She snaked her fingers under my underwear then, and when she reached me, I let out what sounded like a cry for help. Nobody is going to help you now, Marie. Erica gasped as well when she realized how ridiculously hungry I was for her, and she managed to pull me up higher so she could get her hand inside, and I heard my zipper buzz and bust wide open from the strain (or I hoped it was that.) Oh. My. God.

  I imagined a switch being flipped on Willy Wonka’s candy machine, causing an automated motion of movement of only two speeds: zero or one hundred. I was immediately at one hundred, lacking no buildup at all, the electric current of her touch sending me into a rage of pushing against her, until she had completely filled me. I cried out, and she cried with me, telling me to come for her, that she would not stop taking me like that until I came again, and she kept her word.

  Finally, I had to arch my back to pull her hand from inside me (her experience too new at this lesbo sex thing to know that my last two cries were delirious pleas for her to stop before she might kill me with pleasure). It was maddening, but this made me more starved for her, and I roughly tore her clothes from her body as she looked up at me, breathing marathon style, as I exposed first one breast, than the other. Her chest rose toward and away from me with breathing. It was everything I could do to keep my concentration so I could completely undress her, and when I had, I had no patience left to undress myself. So, this was how I took her, with me fully clothed (only my zipper sprung) totally getting off on the erotic contrast of the complete nakedness of her, against the fully dressed-ness of me.

  I wrapped my lips around her nipple, all the while watching her face, seeing the color rush to the light skin of her face, and noticed the harder I kissed her there, the wider she parted her mouth. By the time I had settled into a rhythm between tracing her nipple with my tongue like it was a circular racetrack, digging in extra hard between every third lap, her lips had opened wide to form that silent and perfect “O” shape And I was getting off on the sexual Erica, the Erica that could look surprised and out of control like that, the woman I hardly knew, and might never fully know. Although her lips formed the perfect “O,” instead she said, “I love you,” as her head tossed from left to right, and I dragged my lips across her chest like a starved animal with an inexplicable sweet tooth that could not chose between two of the most tantalizing cupcakes served on the most beautiful buffet laid out before me.

  What was the point of holding back now, I thought, as I said, “And I love you,” and I indelicately showed her this by grabbing both her hands and pinning them to the bed as if she had been resisting. Something about being fully dressed made me want to hold her down like that, and I saw a flash in her eyes that told me this made her more desperate for me. So I kissed down from her breasts, across the length of her body, and I never let go of her wrists, bringing them with me, as she softly cried out in frantic anticipation. She needn’t have worried, since I had no intention or willpower to tease her slowly once arriving at the center of her.

  My plan was to latch on to her there, and feed on her until her mouth formed that “O” again, but this time I would make sure the “O” would not be silent. I coached myself to take her, hard at first, but just for a second, like announcing your presence by slamming a fucking door. I am here. But then, since I owned the equipment myself (and isn’t that just the huge advantage of being a lesbo?), I backed off and sucked on her so softly, almost not sucking at all, but just keeping my lips around her to make her insanely want it, need it, but Erica’s hands somehow broke free from my grip and now were on the back of my head, pushing me harder against her; I should have known it was ridiculous to think I could direct this entire job. The contractor was ready. I took her the way she needed me to.

  “Don’t stop,” she commanded. Not if I ever wanted to work here again, I thought. Once again, the thought entered my mind that I wanted to die right here.

  First a stillness came over her, then came the tidal wave of her coming as she let go of my head to slam the mattress with both hands in a loud, open slaps against the plastic, as if she was now announcing her presence. I am fucking, here!

  It would have been easier if I had died right then, at the moment of pure heaven, or pure hell, whichever was the case. Besides, I had no other logical plans for my life after what we were doing. But then I imagined my mother’s horrified reaction, not of my death but of the newspaper photo of my face planted in the crotch of the gorgeous Camptown Ladies’ contractor, and the headline: “Lesbian Dies While Eating In Log Cabin.”

  Gradually, I felt Erica’s body coming back down to earth, but she wasn’t relaxing. I could feel an uneasy stiffness settle within her body. I crawled up so I could hold on to the middle of her, the side of my face pressed tightly to her stomach, still able to breathe in the delicious scent of her, and then I felt her belly tighten, and I knew without looking up that she was crying. What have I done to this woman? I was thinking this as I tightened my hold on her. Besides my sister, this is the strongest woman I had ever known and I had reduced her to tears more times in the last few months than I could count. She’s supposed to be mine, I thought. Mine. I needed to stop this. I needed to fix this.

  “I’m going with you,” I said, but this just made her stomach tense harder. I tightened my arms around her, but I didn’t look up at her so she couldn’t see the fear in my eyes. “I mean it. I’m going with you. We’ll disappear together.”

  The trees had been right in their leafy Magic 8 Ball prediction. Erica and I had both found happiness again. But the damned trees hadn’t been specific about how long this happiness would last. When I woke up, she was gone, and I was left disoriented from the fresh memory of her. I wanted to go back to my dreams—to before that time, where the betrayal of my brother didn’t exist at all, and all my memories were buried by the blinding pleasure of being with her.

  I found a note she’d left for me on the bed, written on the back of a torn envelope. It was not Erica’s style to overstate what we already covered, so she wrote only two sentences:

  I love you, but not more than you should love your family and I only wish you will consider living here, since I loved building this home for you. Erica

  I sat on the edge of the bed, wanting more than anything to be able to tell her at least one of her wishes had come true: from the moment I saw the cabin in the woods, I knew it would be my home.

  Thirty-One

  Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner

  Lisa found me at the log cabin the following day. It was late afternoon and I was starving, but I had been unwilling to leave for fear the memories would fade, though they showed no signs. Lisa didn’t question why I was at the cabin. She just informed me, like I was being served papers from a criminal court, that Vince had left a message at the condo to ask if we could get the whole family together tonight for dinner.

  “He says he has something important to talk to us about,” Lisa said.

  I winced. “If he doesn’t think we know they’re seeing each other again, why would he call us together to tell us Erica left?”

  She studied me, and I saw that she was no longer angry. It was far worse. I saw pity in her eyes. She spoke so gently that I braced myself for what was next, but it turned out bracing myself was not enough. Lisa said, “It’s not that. He said he and Erica would be at our place by 7:00.” I had to sit
down, and since there were no chairs, I sat on the floor.

  Lisa sat down next to me and did just the right thing. She said nothing.

  Mom and Dad arrived early as usual, and Lisa and I busied ourselves with arranging the table with take-out Chinese food. Lisa saw my hands shaking as I opened the carton of rice and she took it from me before I could spill any more of it. It was almost 7:00 and my stomach was queasy from the smell of food, but it wasn’t until mom wondered if Erica was pregnant that I had to excuse myself to the bathroom to throw up what Lisa had forced me to eat for lunch. I came back, pale and sweaty, but relieved that Mom and Dad were too busy sampling the food to notice I was a quarter of a pound lighter than when I was last in the room.

  A few minutes later, we heard Vince pull into the driveway. A small yelp may have escaped me, but luckily it was identical to one Cindy-Lu let out, so everyone looked at the dog, except Lisa, who was watching me. Mom and Dad went to greet them at the door and as soon as they were out of earshot, Lisa leaned over to me to coo a bit of sisterly advice into my ear, “Erica found a way to handle this, so you need to fucking chill!”

  I nodded at her numbly, feeling another wave of nausea pass over me.

  “Go wash your face again, you look like you’re gonna puke again,” she said, and I gladly took my escape from the kitchen to the bathroom.

  I locked the bathroom door behind me and leaned against it. How could Erica think coming here was a good idea right after we had been together? Worse, how could I sit across a table from my brother and her?

  Then, a more horrifying thought occurred to me. Maybe this was Erica’s way of blowing the whole thing wide open? Maybe it was Vince who didn’t know what he was walking into. I tried to talk myself off the ledge. No, Erica understood how much I loved Vince, and she wouldn’t do that to me or to him.

  Another thought raced across my mind, which seemed more plausible. Maybe Erica wanted me to see them together. Erica holding my brother’s hand, talking about their future, Vince giving her a kiss as he affectionately touches her hair. I felt my stomach lurch again and took some deep breaths. Maybe Erica thought that if I saw him with his arm wrapped possessively around the woman I loved, it would make me have to do something. Then came the worst dread of all: the way my heart was pounding with fierce jealousy, that crazy plan just might work.

  I washed my face and took more deep breaths as I tried my best to repair the makeup that had smeared under my eyes. When I opened the bathroom door, I could hear voices getting animated out in the living room as I walked unsteadily down the hallway. Before I turned the corner, I heard Vince’s voice, “As soon as we clear up this other big mess, next year, we’re going to get married.”

  My legs went weak. I couldn’t go in. I braced myself against the wall where no one could see me.

  Vince yelled out, “Marie, where are you? You’re missing this!”

  I held on to the wall with my sweaty hand as I turned the corner. I saw Vince’s face, happy as I have ever seen him, Mom and Dad blocking Erica from my view as they hugged him, then Lisa’s face, turning to me, her eyes bulging out of her head, totally freaking out. Mom and Dad stepped away so I was face to face with Katie looking back at me.

  Vince had his arm wrapped affectionately around Katie, Buddy’s mother, while Buddy was playing on the floor with a toy truck. I blinked hard, yet Katie still wasn’t turning into Erica. I stupidly looked around for her.

  Lisa walked over to me, inches from my face so she was blocking my expression from the view of the room. She talked to me as if I was totally stoned or had just failed kindergarten or had failed kindergarten because I was totally stoned.

  “Marie, I told you there was something going on with Vince and Katie, didn’t I?” Lisa was nodding her head as a signal for me to agree with her, but even her subtle-as-a-sledgehammer way could not ease me through my shock.

  “Where’s Erica?” I mumbled.

  Vince looked at me with raised eyebrows. “Well, that’s awkward, Mare. Thanks, for bringing up an ex-girlfriend in front of my beautiful fiancé.” He gave Katie an apologetic hug as she smiled affably at him.

  I still wasn’t getting it, and Lisa was losing patience with me, which put us all in great danger of Lisa making it all crystal clear as only she can do. I said to Vince, “But, you said you were bringing—”

  Lisa interrupted “He said he was bringing a girl he’s been secretly dating,” Lisa interrupted, “and Vince has been dating Katie.”

  “But, why did you hide this from us?” I said.

  More confusing than this, while Katie seemed lovely, how could anyone on earth ever love another woman after Erica?

  Vince lowered his voice so Buddy couldn’t hear him, “Katie is trying to get her husband to sign some papers, so we were keeping this quiet. You all assumed I was seeing Erica, so it was easy, especially with Erica avoiding me like the plague.”

  It was sinking in at last. Vince wasn’t with Erica. He hadn’t been with her all this time. Before I could think about how it would sound in front of Katie, I blurted out, “You’re not in love with Erica?”

  Vince said, “Sorry about this, Katie, my sister is a little retarded today.”

  “Spread the word to end the word,” Lisa said.

  Then Vince walked over to me and hissed, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Where would I even begin to answer that question? When I didn’t answer him, Vince said, “I’ve barely seen Erica in months. I assumed she was seeing someone else.”

  I said in a shrill and shaking voice, “And we assumed she was seeing you.”

  Vince laughed at me.

  “What the hell is so funny?” I asked, still stunned.

  Vince said, “When you didn’t get back with Lorn, I wondered if it was because of Erica. She obviously didn’t come back for me, so I backed off. Lucky I did, so I could fall in love with Katie, and this little guy too.” At that, he smiled down at Buddy.

  Lisa looked back and forth from me to Vince and back again and yelled, “Holy shit! You both backed off from Erica for each other—how fucking romantic! This is just like the Gift of the Magi— only with pussy!”

  The world had almost righted itself, my brother was in love, I was in love, and it was not with the same person. One day all was lost, and now there was hope. There was only one problem: Erica had closed up her apartment and she was not answering any calls. She had left, and because money was no object (and I was so in love I couldn’t see straight) I booked the first available flight to California to find her.

  Lisa thought I was crazy, but she helped me pack a bag anyway, and drove like a madwoman to get me to the airport for a flight time that was a bit ambitious. As my sister careened us across town toward the airport, with me wincing and covering my eyes from several near-missed collisions, Lisa revealed she had concocted a plan to get Katie free of her ex-husband so Vince could marry her.

  “Oh, God,” I said, both from another near miss and from whatever her next crazy plan could be. “What are you going to do, have him put in a dumpster?”

  “That would be stupid,” she said, staring at the road as if it were a video game. “Always better to use several dumpsters.”

  “Ah,” I said.

  “Tempting idea, but I’m working on a plan that’s much simpler.”

  There was no use arguing with Lisa. After all, this was a woman who’d bought an unprofitable campground after looking at a few photographs and was now getting write-ups on her restaurant from the most respected food blogs all over the web. While her idea had seemed crazy at the time, next year we would either have to either turn campers away or expand the campground.

  We arrived in time for my flight and Lisa pulled up in front of the airport with a screech. She grabbed my arm before I could hop out of the car. “Hey, I’m sorry about before. You know, for being so pissed with you.”

  I smacked her hand hard on the back of her knuckles, like when we were kids, and said, “I get it. You were just
protecting our wimpy little brother.”

  She smiled and said, “He’s not tough like us.” Then we hugged with our tradition of slapping each other hard ridiculously hard on the back (until I yelped) and then I hurried off. Lisa yelled over the crowds, “Good luck bagging our brother’s ex-girlfriend!” Then she yelled, “Ew! Have you ever thought that the two of you have both—”

  “Shut it!” I yelled back, but I couldn’t help laughing as I ran with my bag toward the door.

  I drifted in and out of sleep on the plane, waking every time I remembered names of people or clients she had mentioned, or that I had met. Since most of her clients had been well-known actors, I knew there were very few I would be able to contact. “Excuse me, Mr. Nicholson, have you seen your contractor this week? I drifted off again after counting Hollywood sheep outfitted with fake tans, teeth, and, most horribly, tits.

  What seemed like just minutes later, I awoke on the plane. Only it had been hours, and I was not on my way to LA as I had dreamt. I had already spent a full week searching for Erica, only to come up with nothing. I had been dreaming of how hopeful I was when I had first flown out to find her. Now I was on my way back home with the full realization that Erica was not a woman who wanted to be found.

  Thirty-Two

  Sometimes Your Best Insurance Is In Your Bra

  “I’m sick of you moping around. You’re coming with me,” Lisa announced, as she grabbed my arm and walked me to her car like a criminal. Who was I to argue? With winter coming and so little to do at Camptown Ladies, I had been moping around for weeks.