Where We Belong

by Fox Brison

  Not that I wanted to.

  Her tongue pressed against my lips and a desperate keening was unleashed as I opened them for her. I craved her touch, was desperate to be in contact with every part of her body and soul. Her kiss was the strength of the storm, the power of a volcano… I was no longer cold. In fact, somebody sound the alarm because my core was overheating and I was about to blow.

  The trees and bushes were bent double with the force of the gale howling around us, and the rain coming down horizontally blew into our faces. Did I care?

  Like heck I did!

  Intensity was the one thing I was acutely aware of. Every sound, smell, and taste was magnified. I had never felt more alive and my entire body was a tempest of sensations.

  When Elisha pulled back she was breathless, the wind taking it from her. Or perhaps it was the kiss, because, damn, like a thief in the night it easily stole the air from my lungs. I touched a finger to my swollen lips, and watched arousal paint a flash of pink travelling north from Elisha’s chest, through her neck, and into her cheeks; it was more beautiful than any sunrise or sunset I’d ever witnessed.

  I stretched out my hand to make sure this wasn’t another one of my dreams, but she flinched backwards.

  “God, I’m sorry,” she said, her voice quivering. She leapt out of the ditch, her long muscular legs negotiating the slick sides with ease.

  “Elisha, wait,” I called, because I was so far from sorry I was across the Atlantic and docked at the Manhattan Cruise terminal. I tried to haul myself out of the stream, but every bloody maddening time I slid back in. It was like a scene from a David Attenborough nature film, the exhausted gazelle attempting to flee the maw of the beast by fleeing up the banks of the river… all it needed was a twenty foot crocodile to emerge from the drain and the image would be complete.

  “Aaargh!” Screaming in frustration, I slapped my hands against the verge.

  Slopping downstream, I finally reached a stretch that wasn’t as sheer. My boots sunk into the mud as I climbed out, and every squelching pull to free myself wasted precious minutes. Escaping my watery prison, I charged down the lane, my teeth chattering even as my breath puffed out in long gasps, but when I eventually made it home, the cottage was in darkness.

  “Elisha?” I yelled, excited and nervous and hungry for another kiss. Hurrying through the living room, I repeated, “Elisha?” only louder. Nothing. Knocking on her bedroom door I opened it a crack when she didn’t answer. She wasn’t there and nothing indicated that she had been.

  “Fuck.”

  I inhaled deeply and cursed my stupidity.

  After spending the better part of an hour sloshing about in stagnant water, I reeked. With nothing left to do but wait, I threw my clothes into the washing machine, and scampered naked towards the bathroom and a hot shower. Rinsed clean of mud and debris, I ran a soothing bath filled with lavender bubbles and accompanied my long soak with a bottle of wine. As I submerged myself in the water, the bubbles concealing my body until only my head was visible, my world began to right itself and balance was restored.

  Resistance was futile and stage two was well and truly accepted. I was ready for Elisha to come home and talk, to erase the past few weeks. It was time to cleanse the soul. However, when the clock struck twelve and the seven messages I sent were ignored, I conceded defeat and headed to bed.

  As I gently drifted off towards the land of nod, my very last thought was the taste of Elisha’s kiss.

  Chapter 31

  Elisha

  I ran and ran. I kept running until I was exhausted and then I ran some more. What the fuck are you playing at? I harangued myself. I ended up at my father’s door. It wasn’t my first choice but I was cold, wet and muddy, and I didn’t have a change of clothes at Biddy and Pat’s. “Hey, Da,” I called.

  “Jesus, Leesh, have you been wrestling a hippo?” my father asked, taking a good long look at my dishevelled state. “You’re bleeding.” He reached for my arm.

  Bleeding love. “It’s nothing, a scratch.” I pulled it away. “A drain was blocked down by Pat’s,” I explained succinctly.

  “Sure why didn’t you take yourself home?” Isabella snarled from the doorway. “You’re filthy and you stink to high heaven. It’s not sanitary and I have Aiden to think about!”

  “I-” okay so I couldn’t say why. “I have an early dentist’s appointment and didn’t want to disturb Brianna. Is it a problem me being here?”

  “No,” my father answered immediately, attempting to stall the argument brewing between me and my sister. He’d seen enough throughout the years to recognise the nascent stirrings of a bitchfest.

  “Yes it is,” my sister contradicted him. “You haven’t been near hand since shacking up with that English girl.”

  “Near hand?” Shacking up? “I’ve been run off my feet, sorting out the camp, working on the farm, stacking turf for all of our fires this winter. And Pat had a bad dose.” Near hand? Get over yourself, Bella, I wanted to say.

  “Pat?” she growled scornfully. “What about helping Daddy?”

  I was dumbfounded. Nothing like an affectionate welcome from your loving family to douse the flames of ardour. “I dropped everything to come home and care for Daddy when he needed me. I picked up the slack on the farm when Thomas wanted to earn a little extra and worked with Dom. I was here to run the kids to school and get your messages when you were pregnant with Aidan. I. Was. Here, Bella!”

  “I hardly see Thomas. He needs more help,” she persisted, even though I had wholly refuted each and every one of her abandonment claims.

  “Thomas doesn’t,” I snapped. “If he spent less time at the Fiddler’s he’d manage fine. I’ve had to. Daddy had to.” I turned to my father. “I’m going to shower and change. Can I crash on your couch tonight?” I emphasised the word your acerbically.

  “Surely,” he said. I grabbed a set of clean clothes and locked myself in the bathroom until I was certain everyone, and by everyone I meant Isabitcha, had retired for the night.

  Chapter 32

  Brianna

  As I slowly eased into the world of wakefulness, my first thought was the taste of Elisha’s kiss: the vivid and colourful kiss; the kiss that was a full moon and blazing July sun; the kiss that was a leisurely cruise along the Seine in springtime whilst sipping pink champagne. Impetuous and a risk, it had been an ambush that twisted my world upside down and inside out. It loitered and sustained me throughout the night.

  A kiss which implied… No, a kiss that demanded nothing was ever going to be the same again.

  It really was a life changing kiss!

  Sitting at the kitchen table nursing my second cup of coffee, its scent suffusing the room with a delightfully wakeful caffeine aroma, I contemplated the sun rising on yet another day. It was calm and serene, a total contrast to the previous night’s storm.

  Mother Nature imitating life.

  At last I’d acknowledged my feelings for Elisha, and so now it was time to get my house in order. The first person I needed to talk to was Sam. Yes, it should have been Elisha, but she was MIA and I wanted to start the ball rolling. I couldn’t trust myself not to get cold feet! My body thrummed yet my mind was inordinately tranquil. Content. Sorted.

  “How’s tricks?” Sam began and I felt rotten. We’d hardy spoken since her visit. I wasn’t mad at her I simply didn’t know what to say, and it sucked for me to feel like that about my best friend of over twenty years.

  “Good. Yeah. Good. The walls are going up,” I said. And it’s time for some to come tumbling down… we spent the next ten minutes talking about everything except Elisha, even though she was the one thing, the only thing, I wanted to discuss.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s up?” Sam eventually asked. “I’ll have to get back to work in a minute.” There was silence before she casually added, “So how’s Elisha?”

  “She’s good. We had an emergency last night. A blocked drain threatened to flood the site, but Elisha managed t
o clear it. She was an absolute star.”

  “She’s amazing isn’t she?” I heard the dreamy quality to her voice and...

  Busted.

  Because I also detected an undercurrent heavily laced with mockery. Damn. I’d only just admitted it to myself, she couldn’t possibly know… could she? Only one way to find out, Bri. “Sam, I’m gay.” I wasn’t subtle. It was an unfortunate characteristic of mine. Whenever I had something emotionally charged to say, yet would prefer to keep it all to myself, like the alien out of Kane’s chest it exploded out of my mouth.

  “Okay.”

  Okay? I came out and I got a blasé okay? “You don’t sound very surprised.”

  “That’s because I’m not. I always thought you had the potential to become extraordinary,” she laughed, and I joined in weakly, but with a warm heart. I remember Sam screaming at her mother when she was going through a particularly hard time at school, ‘I wish I could be normal!’ Mrs Arthur’s response was ‘why be ordinary, child, when you can be extraordinary?’ It became a mantra of ours.

  “Are you sure you’re not bisexual?” Sam proposed.

  Wow. There was no hesitation. Unconditional acceptance. She was right, that’s how we rolled. “I… maybe. I don’t know. All I do know is no one has ever made me feel this way.” I startled myself with that admission, but it was the truth. “I simply can’t understand why it’s taken me this long to even consider I might not be straight. Christ looking back there were so many clues. I was totally in love with Miss Taylor at school.”

  “Oh c’mon, Bri, you’d have had to be dead not to have crushed on Miss T,” Sam agreed and we both giggled.

  “And remember that old Subaru I drove at uni?” Lying back on the sofa I rested my legs over the arm, smiling as I used a well-known lesbian trope for effect. Sam had teased me about it fifteen years earlier. If only…

  “God yes.” She started howling with laughter. “You even named it Ellen! How the hell you weren’t stranded at least once on the A12 still astounds me.”

  I stalled. God it was humiliating to admit this, even to Sam. “I’ve never particularly enjoyed sex, not with other people at least, which is why I haven’t had it in over a year,” I said ruefully.

  “Wait, what? A year?” Sam stuttered. “And Leo was okay with that?”

  “He never said anything. It’s weird the ruts you get into. I hadn’t realised it was so long until I actually sat down and thought about it.”

  “Wow, heterosexual bed death. I don’t know how to respond to that.”

  “How about, ‘Bri, you’re a fucking idiot?’ Because that’s how I feel.”

  “Brianna,” she soothed, “there’s no hard and fast rule which says you have to figure everything out by the time you’re twenty-one.”

  “I guess I’ve always been a slow learner. I didn’t walk until I was two!” I was joking; still I couldn’t help but think there must be a deeper rooted reason for my lack of self-awareness.

  “Or it could be that you’re lazy,” Sam responded in a playful tone, and the quick fire banter proved we were back on an even keel.

  “I liked an easy life, I mean look at the way I handled my stage fright. I didn’t persevere, I didn’t confront my fears. I ran and hid in McAteer Construction. Fair enough I like my job and I’m good at it, but I can’t help but wonder what might have been if only I’d grown a pair.”

  “I won’t lie to you, Bri,” Sam utilised her no bull tone, “you’ve always chosen the easy route, but going to Ireland to seek out your birth family… that wasn’t easy. Confronting these feelings, I know isn’t easy. Perhaps you’ve finally twigged that easiest isn’t always best.” Sam was dead right, if something is worth having it’s worth fighting for.

  And I was ready to fight for Elisha.

  “I don’t quite know how to say this, Sam.” And I didn’t. I knew she liked Elisha. Christ. I already miss the easy route. “I’ve fallen for-”

  “Oh my God, Bri!” Sam exclaimed and I nearly dropped the phone. “I’ve been in love with you for so long. I can’t believe you feel the same way.” There was palpable exuberance charging over the satellite signal.

  Shit.

  My head was in a spin. Yes I possessed the self-awareness of a charging bull, but surely to goodness I would have realised that my best friend was in love with me. This was turning into a love triangle worthy of Shondaland.

  “Sam, you’re such an important part of my life and I do love you, but like a sister.” I began, wanting to let her down gently. Then I heard choking. On bloody laughter! If she’d been in front of me, I’d have had my hands around her throat choking that laugh out of her! “Jesus, Sam, that wasn’t funny.”

  “Oh yes it was,” she argued, “because it doesn’t take a masters in psychology to work out who’s got you jumping the fence faster than Red Rum.” She didn’t sound too perturbed, and for that I was eternally grateful. The last thing I wanted was to lose my best friend over a woman.

  I snorted. Welcome to the Twilight Zone, Bri. I never in a million light years imagined I’d be saying those words – over a woman! “You’re okay with it? I mean, I know you two hit it off in Dublin.”

  “I wish we had,” she giggled. “I’ll admit I flirted a little, but all Elisha talked about was the camp and how fantastic you are, and about how strong and brave you are. Honestly, I thought the sun had taken up residence in your arse since moving to Ireland, which would explain the shitty weather!” She sobered and added sincerely, “She has it bad for you, Bri, but as far as she’s concerned you’re off limits.”

  Tears of happiness welled in my eyes, and I felt so light I became dizzy. I sucked in a lungful of air. This was good. “What should I do, Sam?”

  “It’s a tricky one. Elisha could be a crutch. I mean, you’re juggling quite a few balls of confusion in your life, Bri, and this could simply be another. Or she may very well be your soulmate. Whatever you do, you have to figure it out before someone has their heart broken beyond repair.”

  On that portentous note we said our goodbyes. I swiped the phone and stared at the wall.

  If in doubt? I did what any self-respecting woman questioning her sexuality did in the internet age… I googled it and was bombarded with information. Bloody hell fire the world had evolved. I was au fait with LGB but now here was an alphabet of letters and even more labels. I may have been ever so slightly confused about how I identified… lesbian, gay, bisexual, pansexual or merely fluid … but there was one thing I was absolutely sure of, and in truth it was the only thing that mattered…

  I loved Elisha M Callery.

  Chapter 33

  Elisha

  I woke before it was light, dressed and made sure I was long gone before Isabella could pick up where we left off the night before. I went straight to the dentist’s surgery. I did not pass the cottage where I knew Brianna would be having her second cup of coffee and bacon sandwich. I wasn’t avoiding her or running away.

  Yeah keep telling yourself that you lying sack of…

  I abhorred the dentist and had done ever since Doctor Cleary gave me three fillings and my mother blamed the sherbet dip I was addicted to. Therefore, and much to my annoyance, she cut me off. However, my oral hygiene had improved considerably since I was a child and I left the torture chamber with a clean bill of health just in time for the heavens to open for its hourly sluice.

  I ducked inside… a music shop. Serendipity indeed. I peered with interest at the instruments on display, and one promptly caught my eye – an ultra sexy electric violin. It was shiny and black and wore a set of angel’s wings in silver relief on the back. I itched to touch it, to trail my fingers along the smooth surface and over the curves and crevices that contributed to its uniqueness. I wasn’t normally so tactile, but something about this instrument willed me to its side, seducing me with its beauty.

  Or perhaps it was the thought of a certain someone playing it...

  The image of Brianna holding it, her eyes luminous pools
of desire as the faint echo of demure tones faded in the warmth of our bedroom…

  I couldn’t help but recall the events of the night before. The kiss? It started as a wave lapping a sun kissed beach, a gentle touch, a subtle suggestion. Brianna initiated it, but we finished it together. I could still feel her lips pressed against mine and hear her primal moan vibrate through my body. All of my pent up frustration and attraction was released like the dammed water in the gutter, and I was swamped.

  When it was over?

  Yes I panicked. I felt wretched about running out on her, but for once, like all good lesbians, I needed to process. The encounter was so… so fucking powerful it scared me and the conclusion was obvious. I feared her rejection. I feared hearing her say it was a mistake, or even worse, that I was an experiment.

  “Would you like a test drive?” The shopkeeper jolted me from my reverie.

  “I’m not one for playing but my friend is very talented.” I had yet to see Brianna play, but frequently lurked outside the cottage door when she practised. She was a creature of habit and often did so at similar times of the day, and I’d make excuses to Thomas just so I could sneak over and listen. Hearing her play moved me far more than any movie I’d seen or book I’d read.

  The woman in her fifties and with a bun the size of a melon tied tight to her head, gently lowered the violin and tucked it under her chin. The sound that emanated from the simple instrument was anything but simple. It was melodious and harmonic, piercing and soothing. Its timbre was unique.

  It owned the sound.

  I wanted it. I wanted to hear it played under the expert bowing of Brianna. I wanted to watch her fingers… I was a lesbian obsessed with another woman’s fingers as she played the violin. I wondered if that would be classed as freaky shit, or if I should give myself a high five!

  “I’ll reduce the price by fifteen percent, if you take it away today.”