Hungry for It

by Fiona Zedde

  From her position behind Dez, Rémi noticed the tears overflow Victoria’s eyes. They ran, unashamed, down her face. She looked across at her future partner as if all the answers to her life’s questions lay in the woman before her. Dez’s jaw shook. Rémi put a steadying hand on her best friend’s back and felt its tremor.

  This was real commitment. Something strong and undeniable that had taken over her friend, like a fever, or destiny. Envy pricked behind Rémi’s breastbone. Against her will, her eyes moved from Dez’s dark-suited back, drifting to the attentive figure in white sitting in the front pew. Delicate but resilient, this woman was everything that Rémi had ever wanted. But she had never dared to ask. Had never been ready to ask.

  The red pillbox hat on top of white-streaked curls bowed as the woman dabbed at her tears with a white handkerchief. Was she remembering her own wedding years before or the husband who left her in an otherwise empty bed? Did she long for someone to take his place, to be better at loving her than he was? Rémi swallowed thickly then looked away.

  Just in time, because the minister concluded, smiling. “May happiness be your companion and your days together be good and long upon the earth.”

  That was Rémi’s cue to present the ring as best woman. She took the platinum band from her vest pocket and held it out. Dez’s hand shook as she accepted the ring.

  “As a ceaseless reminder of the promise you have made to each other, these rings also speak of the oneness you now experience as partners.”

  The women exchanged rings with equally trembling fingers.

  “And now repeat after me.”

  The minister recited the vows, and Dez and Victoria solemnly repeated them, staring into each other’s eyes. With their “I dos” still echoing in the air, he faced the congregation.

  “Because they have so affirmed, in love and knowledge of the other, so also do I declare that Desiree Nichols and Victoria Jackson are now life partners. Wife and wife.”

  A breath left Rémi’s throat. It was done. The congregation of over two dozen rose to its feet in the same moment, applauding. The sound thundered in Rémi’s ears.

  After the ceremony and showering of white rose petals, Rémi stood back, watching the newlyweds receive their congratulations on the front steps of the church. They looked good together. Dez tall and handsome-pretty in her tux, a more butch Jada Pinkett Smith, and Victoria, a voluptuous visual feast with her curly hair twisted into a baby’s breath–dotted topknot with a few loose curls around her round face. Their smiles looked almost too big to be contained.

  Sage and Phil had already disappeared somewhere, probably to have sex in one of the church’s back rooms. Rémi wasn’t worried about them. When her friends were done they’d find her. Maybe at the reception where there would be drinks, dancing, and more congratulations.

  “Did you ever think you’d see a day like this?”

  Claudia appeared from behind a fall of rose petals the flower girl had just thrown at one of her friends. In a body-skimming white skirt suit that emphasized her narrow waist and the red camisole peeking from beneath the jacket, she was the sexiest mother-of-the-bride Rémi had ever seen.

  She bit her lip against naughty thoughts. “Not really. Our Dez was the last person I thought would ever get married.”

  “I know. But this happiness suits her.” Claudia smiled.

  “Yes, it does.”

  Cheers erupted as a white limousine pulled up.

  “I think that’s our ride. Are you ready?” Rémi offered her arm to Claudia, half surprised when the other woman took it, insinuating her green apple scent into Rémi’s senses.

  They got into the car on the opposite side from the church, giving Dez and Victoria time to pose for pictures and wave at friends they would see at the reception in only a few minutes. Although Claudia sat on the seat opposite her, Rémi swore she could still smell the other woman on her, feel the shift of skirted thigh against hers. She took a deep breath. This weekend might be longer than she thought.

  At the reception in the hotel, Rémi tried to keep her distance from her best friend’s mother. Although the later the evening grew, the less certain she was as to why. She’d known Claudia for years. Had lusted for years. There was no reason why an event as simple as a wedding should test her control this much.

  Claudia had the second dance of the evening with her daughter after offering a small and gracious toast to the happy couple. Dez’s twin, Derrick, did the same, although he had a wealth of complimentary things to say about Victoria, and a few warnings for his sister. All in all, what Rémi expected.

  The small hotel ballroom, decorated with splashes of red and white, was well turned out for the reception. Long tables with room for all thirty guests, a delicious three-course meal that seemed to satisfy every palate, and alcohol flowing freely enough to loosen even the most uptight of matrons. Victoria’s parents had taken care of everything.

  “Good luck,” Rémi said to Dez as the two women stood at the bar watching the whirl of bodies around the dance floor. “Not that you’ll need it. The two of you belong together.”

  Her friend, relaxed and smiling in her dove gray suit, patted Rémi on the back.

  “Thanks, man. I want to make her happy. That’s it.” She flashed that irresistible Nichols grin of hers, the one that had landed her into trouble—the good kind and bad—since she hit puberty.

  “That’s a great place to start, although obviously I wouldn’t know too much about those kinds of things.”

  “Your time will come soon enough.”

  As the two women watched, Victoria finished her dance with Derrick in a twirl of red tulle and immediately began looking around for her new wife.

  “I think that’s your cue,” Rémi said.

  Dez grinned again before walking away. Rémi followed with her eyes, a cool spot in her chest. Jealousy. Not the purest emotion, but she’d never been accused of having an abundance of those. She wanted what her friend had. Not Victoria, of course, although it would have been nice to test those waters. A lascivious smile found its way to her mouth. What she wanted was someone she could love like that. Someone she could lust for like that. Unbidden, the memory of Claudia surfaced.

  “I would ask what—or who—put that look on your face, but I don’t want to be embarrassed.”

  Rémi smiled at the cheeky little thing who addressed her. “You don’t strike me as the type to embarrass easily.”

  The redhead with the look of Veronique, Victoria’s mother, pursed her plump mouth and smiled. “Depends on what day you catch me.”

  “And what kind of day is this?”

  “It’s too early to tell.” Her pale green eyes flickered over Rémi’s tall frame. “I’m Cecile.” She offered her hand. “Victoria’s cousin.”

  “Rémi.” She didn’t bother giving her relationship to the other bride. It was fairly obvious who or what she was since she was the one who had stood by Dez during the ceremony and presented the ring for Victoria’s finger.

  “I know.” Cecile smiled again. “Care to dance with me?”

  Why not? “Sure.”

  As she stepped out on the dance floor with Cecile, she caught Claudia’s eye. The older woman meaningfully looked between her and the girl. Rémi felt herself blush, although she didn’t know why. Actually, she did. Claudia’s look made her feel guilty. If Cecile was willing, and it seemed like she was more than, this evening had its own inevitable conclusion. Rémi held the shorter woman close as they began to move in rhythm to the opening strains of Meatloaf’s “Paradise by the Dashboard Light.” Caught off guard by the song, she laughed out loud.

  Chapter 3

  Rémi walked through the doors of the hotel, leaving the crisp fall of the city outside. The soft amber ambiance, dripping crystal chandelier, French renaissance settees and baroque décor. Her boots clicked against the antique floors. As she passed through the lobby, the intermittent mirrored paneling reflected her image back at her—tousled hair, lazy-lidded eyes,
crumpled tuxedo jacket, and the shirt unbuttoned at the throat. She looked a little high, a little hot, and a lot available. Not bad.

  Rémi slipped into her room then, without breaking stride, outside to the balcony facing the St. Lawrence River. The clean air seared through her lungs, even more bracing the second time. Stars glittered faintly above the city, no competition for the ribboning lights on the bridge and in the skyscrapers with their illuminated windows. Traffic roared dimly behind her. She knew Claudia was out here. For the past few nights around this time, long after most people were in bed, even in this vibrant old city, she heard her treading softly on the wide balcony outside their shared suite of rooms.

  She’d wanted to go out and share the night with Claudia, but that struck her as strangely wrong. She didn’t want to intrude on the older woman’s quiet, although the company would have been nice. More than nice, Rémi thought, remembering the smell and feel of Claudia from earlier that day at the wedding.

  “Are you coming to join me tonight, Rémi?”

  She smiled sheepishly, though Claudia couldn’t see her face. The weed from earlier had made her mellow, while the smell of the stranger she’d introduced to her latest fucking technique and the pleasure of having a double-jointed lover had almost faded from her fingers and skin. She wanted to be sure that Claudia didn’t smell any of that. But what if she did?

  “Sure, Mrs. N.”

  She sprawled out on the long bench next to the older woman, propping herself in the corner to better watch Claudia, who sat with a blanket covering her from hips to toes. She smelled like apples.

  “How was your date?”

  Rémi felt herself blush. It hadn’t been so much of a date as it was a fuck and run.

  She’d never been to Canada before, but something about Montreal’s landscape and weather reminded her of Boothbay Harbor and of the family she no longer had. The feeling wasn’t quite nostalgia, really, just a prickling in her chest that made her uneasy.

  The best thing for it had been that pretty cousin of Victoria’s who’d smiled at Rémi like she recognized her. Their “date” was long—a walk on the St. Lawrence River that took them to the woman’s high-rise apartment, then a brisk round of fucking that left Rémi breathless and safely amnesiac. The drinks and weed they had afterwards were just a nice perk. Then Rémi left. She didn’t want Dez to think that she abandoned her or Claudia. And so she was back. But Claudia seemed in no danger of suffering from loneliness. The newlyweds were more than likely in their hotel room inventing new ways to fuck each other comatose. But back to the question at hand.

  “My date was fine.”

  “I’m sure it was.” Claudia’s delicate nostrils flared, and Rémi blushed again. She felt like the other woman could tell with that one delicate sniff everything that she had done that night. The scent of the night’s fisting, smoking, fingering, and fucking lay on her like a filthy cloak she longed to throw off. Rémi wanted to apologize, and barely held herself back from it.

  She shifted uncomfortably at Claudia’s side until the other woman’s hand landed on her thigh. “It’s okay.” And she smiled again.

  Just like that it was okay. Rémi smiled back and relaxed on the bench.

  Once, when Rémi was very young and very drunk, she’d thought about having Claudia. It wasn’t a specific fantasy, just a thought. A what-if idea of tasting Claudia’s lips to sample their sweet curve and inhale the fresh green apple scent that always seemed to cling to her. Rémi was very drunk. But the idea had been so sweet. It stayed with her past the next day’s sobriety and the next and the next. That was eight years ago. And the thought of tasting apples still made her lips tingle.

  “Did you enjoy the wedding?” she asked Claudia.

  “Of course. It’s not every day that I see my popular little baby commit to someone so lovely. They’re both very lucky, and I had a good time watching it all come together.”

  Rémi nodded.

  “But I know you’ll miss her.” Claudia’s eyes lay gently on Rémi.

  “That’s true. She and I have been through a lot together.”

  “So I hear.”

  Rémi looked at her. “I don’t even want to know what and from whom.”

  “Good. Then I won’t tell. I wasn’t planning on telling you anyway.” Claudia chuckled. She shifted under the blanket then glanced at her companion. “Do you mind it I—” she made a motion to the empty space between them.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Thank you.” Claudia swung her blanketed legs up and shifted until she lay with her legs almost fully stretched out on the bench. Her toes brushed Rémi’s slacks. “Even though it’s a little chilly out here, I could easily fall asleep sitting here. It’s so peaceful.”

  “It’s a beautiful city.” Rémi glanced at the steady lights below and the winking stars above.

  Claudia laughed. “But it’s no Miami. Is that what you were thinking?”

  “Maybe.” Rémi flashed her smile.

  “It feels a bit like New England to me. The mist and the smell. Very hypnotic.”

  Rémi glanced at her. So she wasn’t the only one. But for her the memory of mist and lobsters wasn’t quite so pleasant.

  Claudia’s feet shifted on the bench. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “About what?”

  “I just thought about it. New England. You don’t have very many good memories of up there, do you?”

  “They’re okay. Nothing to write home about, but certainly not nightmarish either.” Rémi shrugged.

  “That’s good. I wouldn’t want you to have a sleepless night because of me.”

  “Not from mentioning New England, you won’t.” Definitely not from that. On impulse she lifted Claudia’s feet and laid them across her lap. The burgundy velvet and lace blanket with its trailing fringe splashed across the black cotton of her slacks. Warmth from the other woman’s feet and legs slowly seeped into her thighs.

  The bench felt warm at her back. The cool beauty of Claudia at her side and the sparkling light off the sky of Montreal gave her another kind of high. She felt at peace, yet strangely more stimulated than she had been earlier that night with the girl’s—Cecile—pussy riding her clenched fist and squeezing in perfect time with Rémi’s pulsing clit. Rémi sank even deeper into the chair. So, this was contentment. She looked at Claudia again and smiled.

  Chapter 4

  From the stage at Gillespie’s, Cassandra Wilson held the audience in thrall, her smoky voice wrapping around the hearts and ears of everyone in the room as she sang her hypnotizing version of “Time after Time.” Rémi sat in her office overlooking the club and its dimly lit stage. She’d sent Claudia an invitation on a whim to come see the jazz diva at the club, but hadn’t gotten a response. Rémi was disappointed. But she didn’t want it to ruin her night. It would be better for her to be downstairs socializing with the people who made her club a success night after night but she didn’t want to go down there just yet. Her eyes darted once again to the entrance of the club, hoping to see Claudia.

  With Dez sailing the high seas for a month on her honeymoon, Rémi knew that Derrick would probably want to spend as much time as possible with his mother. After the cancer, he still thought of Claudia as fragile. They all did, including Rémi.

  She leaned back against her desk with her hands in her pockets, her mind firmly on Claudia. She didn’t know what she had initiated in Canada. If she had initiated anything. All she knew was that the mostly dormant feelings she’d had for her best friend’s mother had flared up even more powerfully than ever. She didn’t know if it was the wedding or the fact that the older woman’s beauty had pierced through her at a particularly vulnerable time. When she was high and just come from sex, anything could happen. Then again, Rémi thought with a smile, she was always vulnerable to Claudia.

  It had been an effort hiding her feelings from Dez in the beginning. Then as Rémi grew older, she learned to hide it in the open. No one thought she was serious when she brought Claudia fl
owers or raved about her cooking or went to visit her for no reason. Now, after too many years of wanting, she was about to make things complicated.

  Cassandra’s voice trailed off to enthusiastic applause and whistles. Someone threw a scattering of red roses at her feet and she smiled graciously, picked one up, and brought it to her nose. The band began the opening strains of “Tupelo Honey,” and the crowd went wild with cheers again.

  Something made Rémi look toward the door. She smiled. Claudia looked gorgeous even in the dim light of the club. A simple cream sheath hugged her slight body, made her seem like nothing less than an angel as she made her way through the club to find herself a table for her and her son. That was going to be impossible. All the general seating tables were taken on both levels of the club.

  Rémi made a quick call, and one of her bouncers appeared out of the shadows to show Claudia and Derrick to the table that Rémi had reserved. She released the tense breath she had been holding since the beginning of the night. It didn’t even matter that Claudia had brought Derrick. At least it wasn’t one of her banker boyfriends that she was being seen around town with these days. Rémi checked her reflection, running hands through her short curls, before leaving the office.

  Her friends, minus Dez, were at their usual table. They sat quietly, for the most part, paying attention to the beautiful woman on the stage and the magic she created in the room. Phil sat in Sage’s lap, almost purring as her girlfriend stroked her back. Nuria leaned forward in her chair as she watched the stage. Her fingers circled the rim of her nearly empty martini glass while her eyes roamed the stage and the crowd around her. Rémi noticed that she paid special attention to the table a few feet away from her on the right.

  She must have seen Derrick walk in with Claudia. Ever since Dez announced her involvement and subsequent engagement to the woman she was now married to, at least in the eyes of the Canadians and a few American states, Nuria noticeably shifted her interest to the twin. She wasn’t at all subtle in her attentions, and none of her friends cared one way or another. After all, they were pretty much all of the live and let live school of philosophy. As long as you aren’t hurting anybody, sure, go ahead and get yours. Derrick was attractive enough. He had a handsome face, a slim and muscular body, and a respectable bank account. In short he was a biological penis-wielding version of his twin sister.