by Joy Argento
“You know Sandra Polly, the French teacher, and Brenda Sherman, one of the gym teachers?” Andi asked.
“I know who they are. I don’t know them very well.”
Andi paused as if she were choosing her words very carefully. “Well, Sandra used to be married to Robert Martinez, the English teacher. Now she lives with Brenda.”
It took a minute for Emily to catch on. “You mean, um…the two women are now together? As a couple?”
“Yep.” Andi nodded.
Emily was a bit surprised she hadn’t caught on to this when she met the women. She needed to hone her gaydar. “So, at least part of my theory is correct.” Emily drank from her bottle waiting for the question, trying not to smirk.
“Okay, I’ll bite. What theory?”
“Lesbians and gym teachers. I got it right by fifty percent on that one.” The potato chip Andi playfully threw at Emily lodged itself in her hair. Emily laughed and attempted to remove it but only managed to break it into pieces.
“A little help here, Miss Potato Chip Thrower.” She pointed to her hair.
“Oops. Shouldn’t have done that.”
“No worries.”
Andi stood up and delicately pulled at strands of Emily’s hair as she removed bits of chips. Emily found herself looking at the tanned skin on Andi’s neck. Her eyes followed it down until it reached the top swell of her breasts visible at the open collar of her white shirt. Andi’s voice pulled her eyes away.
“Okay, all set. Got it.” She held several small pieces of potato chips in the palm of her hand and showed the pieces to Emily. “Would you like this back? It still looks fairly edible.”
“Um, I’m thinking no.”
Andi tossed the pieces over the deck railing onto the lawn.
“That’s littering, young lady.”
“The squirrels will get it.”
“God made junk food for people to eat, not squirrels. You never see a squirrel eating cotton candy, do you? No. God made cotton candy for people. I like to think of it as health food for our souls. If your squirrels gain twenty pounds we’ll know why.” Emily snickered.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Andi said.
There was barely a break in the conversation when Emily asked, “So how come there’s no one special in your life?” She gazed into Andi’s eyes as she waited for the answer.
“Wow, okay, guess there is no more small talk with you,” she said grinning. “Hmm, let’s see, I’ve told you that I ended a four-year relationship about a year ago, and since then, I haven’t found anyone that I want to be with.”
“I would think you would have to beat the women off with a stick.”
“Yes, that is exactly what I’ve been doing and now no one wants to come near me because there is this ugly rumor going around that I beat women with sticks.”
“Okay, you don’t have to tell me.”
“I’m sorry,” Andi said.
Emily didn’t think she really was. She seemed to enjoy teasing Emily, and Emily didn’t mind it one bit.
“I’m very choosy and don’t feel like dating just for the sake of dating. I’m waiting for that special person to love who can love me back. Does that sound corny?”
Emily thought it was very romantic and told Andi as much.
“I think that has been part of the problem. I am very romantic. I want the whole package. The love, the commitment, the humor, the intimacy, the sharing. Did I mention the intimacy?”
“As a matter of fact, you did. Was that a problem in your last relationship?” The sun was starting to set and the nearly full moon cast a soft glow on the night and across Andi’s silky skin. It didn’t escape Emily’s notice.
“Emotional intimacy was a problem. I never really felt connected to Janice. That was her name—Janice. I’m pretty sure it still is.” Andi joked, then got serious again. “I think I spent most of the four years we were together trying to make it work. Our relationship toward the end went something like this.” Andi paused, gathering up her thoughts. “Janice would say or do something thoughtless or mean and I would try to talk to her about it and end up crying. She would feel bad about making me cry and treat me extra nice for a while, but she never addressed the real issue. I would still be hurt or mad and she would get angry all over again because her nice tactic wasn’t working. I had this image in my mind for a long time of who she was, and the reality was that she was nothing like that. You know what I mean?”
“I do. That sounds a lot like my marriage.” Emily took a long swig of her beer and rolled the bottle in her hands.
“You were married?” Andi sounded surprised.
“Yes, for six years. I don’t count the last year while we were in the process of getting a divorce. I probably shouldn’t count any of it as anything but wasted time.”
“That’s sad.”
“Yes, let’s go with that. Let’s go with sad. It sounds better than pathetic.” Emily knew she must sound bitter. But the truth was, she had almost no emotions surrounding any of it anymore.
“Why pathetic?” Andi leaned forward.
“I guess because I never really loved him, and I married him anyway because it was as close to love as I had gotten. I’ll tell you something that I learned from the relationship, though. I know that happiness has to come from within, and another person can’t make you happy.”
“But they sure as hell can make you miserable.”
“Amen to that.” Emily raised her beer bottle toward Andi’s, clinking them together. She watched as the moonlight danced in Andi’s brown eyes. Emily cleared her throat, suddenly at a loss for words. Flustered. She wasn’t sure why. She turned her head and stared out into the evening. She found herself relaxing into the silence between them. There was a comfort in it that said more than many actual conversations Emily had had with other people.
Emily spoke at last. “How come you don’t have a lot of mosquitoes around here? They would be eating us alive at home by now.”
“The bats keep them in check,” Andi said.
“Seriously? Bats?” Emily ducked as if avoiding one. Her eyes searched the sky before turning them back to Andi. “Did I happen to mention that I’m afraid of bats?”
“For real? They won’t hurt you, Emily. Bats are our friends. Tell you what, if any bat comes near you I’ll get my big stick that I use to beat the women off and scare them away.”
“Very funny. Okay, I am going to trust you on this. Bats are our friends. Bats are our friends.” They both burst out laughing.
When the laughter died down, Emily said, “Okay, no more heavy subjects for the evening. Let’s see, what would be a good superficial question? Hmm. Oh, I know. What’s your biggest pet peeve?”
Andi thought about her answer for a moment. Tilting her beer bottle toward Emily, she said, “Okay, here’s one, I hate it when people use the word literally when there is no possible way that what they are saying can be taken literally. For example, if someone says, I literally ate a thousand hot dogs this week. Well, they didn’t really eat a thousand hot dogs so…you know what I’m saying, right?”
Emily nodded.
“So, how about you? Biggest pet peeve?”
“Bats!”
“Bats, huh? A strange pet peeve. Tell you what, if any bats come near you, I will give them a good tongue-lashing.”
“Gee, thanks.” Emily said.
Andi suddenly stood and moved her chair closer to Emily. So close, in fact, that when she sat back down Emily could feel a current of electricity between the fraction of an inch of air separating their arms.
“What are you doing?” Emily asked, not minding the closeness at all.
“Protecting you,” Andi answered, with straight face but a hint of a tease in her voice.
No, Emily didn’t mind the closeness at all.
Chapter Five
Emily walked around the room checking the progress of her students’ drawings as they worked. “Don’t pick your pencil up off the paper,” she told Kerr
y. “I want you to do a contour drawing all in one continuous line.” The young girl nodded.
The skill level of the class varied greatly. The talent of some was quite obvious, while others struggled with each assignment. Emily noted which of the students would need the most help to get through the class.
She silently walked up behind two boys with their heads together, chatting quietly. She tapped one on the shoulder and then tapped her finger on the drawing. The whispering stopped. The silence in the room was broken by the sound of the bell, indicating the end of the period. Emily was used to the sound by now.
“Everyone, make sure your name is on the back of your paper and put them on my desk, whether you’re finished or not.” Emily had to raise her voice over the noise of students getting up and chairs scraping against the floor.
One more period to go. The last class was her oil painting class. Because the students had to complete two drawing classes and a color theory class in order to qualify for it, it was her smallest class. It was also Emily’s favorite. The students were highly motivated because most of them wanted to continue with art after high school. Oil painting was Emily’s personal passion.
“Miss Sanders.” The stern woman from her first day was back. Emily now knew her name was Rebecca Bowman, the office secretary. She was also known amongst the teachers by several other terms, but Emily refused to join in the name calling.
Emily smiled brightly at her as if the smile would be contagious and force some happiness into the miserable woman. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Bowman?”
“Your sister called and left you a message.”
“Is everything okay?” Why would Mindy be calling the school office? Emily had given her that number for emergencies only.
“She said to remind you to pick up bread for supper. Apparently, your cell phone is turned off. In the future, I wish you would inform your sister and anyone else, for that matter, that the school office is not your personal answering service.” She turned and was gone before Emily had the chance to thank her.
Emily shook her head. Bringing bread home for dinner was definitely not an emergency. Emily would have to talk to her about that.
Mindy had been excited all week. They were having what she called a “party dinner.” Emily didn’t consider having one of Mindy’s many best friends and Andi over for dinner to be a party. But if Mindy wanted to call it that and treat it like an “event,” Emily didn’t mind. Calling the school for bread was another story.
Emily was still deep in thought when her final class of the day began to shuffle into the room. The students went directly to the shelves in the back of the room and retrieved their boxes of supplies. “Class, set up at your easels and let’s get started. Charlie, can you turn on the lights for the still life setup? And throw out your gum.” The room grew quiet. Emily turned on the radio, set to the local soft rock station. It was a habit she had gotten into when she painted in college. It relaxed her and she thought it helped the kids the same way it did for her. She kept the volume low as she walked from student to student giving personal instruction and pointers where she felt the young artists needed help.
After the last of the students left her classroom for the day, Emily grabbed her coat and backpack, locked the door, and headed in the direction of Andi’s classroom.
***
Andi looked up from the papers she was grading, saw Emily, and couldn’t help but smile. “Well, hello there.”
“Hi yourself,” Emily replied, with a smile of her own. “I wanted to make sure you were all set on directions to my house.” She leaned her hip against the corner of Andi’s desk.
Andi didn’t fail to notice the creamy skin that peeked through the gap at Emily’s waist as her shirt pulled up with the movement. She forced her eyes upward to answer the question.
“I am. Straight down Freemont, take a left onto Taft, right onto Church Street to Rose Terrace. Your address is already programed into my GPS just in case. I’m really looking forward to this evening and meeting Mindy.” And spending time with you, she thought but didn’t say out loud.
“Dinner is at six thirty, but feel free to come by earlier if you want to.”
“I thought I would bring wine. Is Chardonnay okay?”
“Perfect. I better get going,” Emily said. “I have to stop at the grocery store before I go home. I’ll see you soon.”
Andi watched her walk out the door, shook her head at the fact that she’d done that, and went back to grading her papers. She finished in time to run home, change into jeans, and be at Emily’s house a little after six.
“You must be Mindy,” Andi said to the young lady who opened the door for her. Emily stuck her head out of the kitchen in time to see Andi give Mindy a big hug. “Emily has told me so much about you that I feel like I already know you.”
They were still hugging when Emily came up behind them. Andi reached around Mindy and handed Emily a bottle of wine.
“Mindy, you have to let her go so she can come in,” Emily said.
Mindy let Andi go. “Hello, Andi. It so nice to meet you,” Mindy said, grabbing Andi’s hand.
“Nice to meet you too.” Mindy pumped her hand up and down. Andi laughed and turned to Emily. “Hi there.”
“I see you found it okay. Come on in, and I’ll show you around.” Emily had also changed out of her work clothes into faded jeans and sweater. Andi liked the casual look on her. Emily handed Mindy the wine. “Can you put this in the fridge, honey?”
Much to Andi’s surprise, Emily took her hand and led her down a short hallway. Andi avoided the desire to intertwine their fingers and chastised herself for even thinking it. Dropping Andi’s hand as suddenly as she had grabbed it, Emily raised her arms in the air and said in an imitation spokesmodel voice, “And here we have the living room.” She waved her hands about. “This room was the reason I fell in love with the house.”
Andi could see why. It was cozy, with enough room for the oversized brown couch and a matching recliner chair, both of which were positioned to get the best view of the large flat-screen TV that sat on the library table against the wall. An array of bowls and plates filled with chips, crackers, and cheeses sat on the solid oak coffee table in front of the couch. Emily had obviously gone to a lot of work. “Very nice,” Andi said, bringing her eyes up to Emily’s.
“Actually, it was this little cove over here that first caught my eye,” Emily said, leading Andi to the right. The small room held a stone fireplace with a thick wood mantel and a beautiful bay window that looked out over a private backyard. A love seat anchored the space, with the same brown fabric as the couch, and a hand-woven earth-tone rug lay on the floor. A generous stack of wood sat at the ready in the fireplace and more wood was neatly piled on the wrought iron rack off to the side.
“Very cozy.” Andi said, looking around. Very cozy and very romantic. “Great place.” Her eyes stopped on the paintings hanging on the far wall. “Oh my God. Are these yours?” Andi looked at Emily, impressed.
Emily nodded.
“These are incredible.” Andi returned her attention to the art. She took her time as she scanned each one. “Oil paintings, right?”
“Yes.”
Andi studied the landscape painting directly in front of her. “I love this one. It has a sensuality about it that I’ve only seen in figure paintings, never a landscape. The gentle rolling of the meadow and curves of the land remind me of a female body.” Andi regretted the statement as soon as it was out of her mouth. What would Emily think with her comparing it to a naked woman? Andi kept her eyes on the art searching for better words to describe it. The scene was right before sunset, the trees alive with the color of fire. “It seems to glow from within. I like them all, but this one is my favorite,” Andi said, at last, pulling her eyes from it to look at Emily.
“Thank you,” Emily said, seemingly shy all of a sudden.
“No, Em, I mean it. It’s like I can see your soul in these paintings.”
Em
ily blushed. “Come on, I’ll show you my studio.”
Andi was equally impressed with the painting that sat on the easel in the studio. It wasn’t done yet, but it was well on its way. Some of what Andi assumed was the underpainting was done in reddish brown, and bits of it still showed through the colors that Emily had applied over the top of it.
“This room was perfect for my studio because of that big window. It faces south and lets sunlight in even this late in the day.”
Andi nodded, noticing a drawing on the table in the corner. It was just a rough sketch of the backside of a nude female. “Did you use a model for this?” Andi asked, actually hoping the answer was no. She wasn’t sure why.
“Oh no. It’s just from my head. Although if I had been, it more than likely would have been done by now. I’ve been working on it on and off for months. I can’t seem to get it just right.”
“I think it’s great. When do you have time to work on your own art?” Andi asked.
“Mostly late at night. It’s like meditation for me. It helps me sleep.”
“So, is that why you create art? Because it helps you relax?”
“I have so many ideas in my head that I need to get out. I guess I paint so I don’t go insane. Better to be an artist than a mass murderer, I always say.”
“Good point.” Andi chuckled.
“Can I show Andi my room?” Mindy asked, as she bounced in. Emily looked at Andi and raised her eyebrows, silently giving Andi the choice.
“Of course you can.” Andi linked her arm in Mindy’s and was practically dragged out of the studio. Andi gave Emily a quick smile over her shoulder as she was pulled away. “I’ll be back,” Andi said, giving her best Arnold Schwarzenegger impersonation.
***
Emily went to check on the progress of the chicken cordon bleu in the oven. The chicken was starting to brown, and so far, the cheese was staying inside and not leaking out onto the pan. Looking good. She opened the refrigerator and retrieved the bottle of the wine that Andi brought. Kendall-Jackson, an excellent choice. I wouldn’t expect anything less from that lovely woman. Emily smiled to herself. She put the bottle on the table and looked through the silverware drawer for her corkscrew. I should invest in a better one of these, she thought as she found the old, beat-up tool.
