by Fiona Zedde
"I love that woman, but sometimes she is worse than Xavie."
Sinclair chuckled. "Let me guess. She can't decide whether to keep the old toy or throw it away?"
Nikki giggled. "I'd never thought of Hunter as a toy before but that description will work."
"Hunter thinks she's being motherly."
"She is. Then she remembers what it was like to have Hunter in her bed and Della starts wanting her again."
"I saw her over there yesterday, actually."
"And?"
"And nothing. She wished us luck, talked about random things then left to go back to her shop. Despite her past relationship with my mother I still like her."
"Past relationship?"
Oops. "Nothing. Don't worry about it." Sinclair got up to leave. "Is there anything to eat around here?"
Nikki dragged her back down on the sofa. "She and Beverly used to do what you and Hunter do?"
Sinclair cursed her own big mouth and sighed. "Probably some variation of it, yes."
Nikki's eyes went wide. "Are you serious?"
"Not at all, I do this comedy routine just for you." Sinclair stood up again. "If you insist on talking about this let's at least go to the kitchen so I can find some food."
"I can't believe this!" Nikki followed Sinclair and sat at the table while her stepdaughter searched the fridge for edibles. "She never told me."
"Are you best friends or something? Is there any reason that she should have told you?"
"I'm a regular customer. She and 1 talk all the time."
"Obviously not about some things." She found the ingredients for a corned beef sandwich and set about making one. "In the lesbian community it's apparently common knowledge."
Nikki leaned back in her chair. "You think that's why she didn't tell me? Because I'm not one of you?"
That surprised a laugh out of Sinclair. "Or it might have something to do with the fact that you're Beverly's husband's new wife."
"Oh."
"Is that all Nikki said?" Hunter looked up from her contemplation of the road under her feet.
"Pretty much. And, by the way, dinner for Friday is fine. She did ask me what you liked to eat though."
"Besides you?"
"Stop." Sinclair blushed. "I didn't tell her that."
The two women walked up the hill toward Victor and Nikki's house where Hunter had left the jeep. Sinclair had already finished the ice-cream cone that they'd left the house to get and was eyeing the scant remains of the one Hunter was working on.
"Just tell her that I'll eat just about anything as long as it's well-seasoned," Hunter said.
"I already did."
"What about your father?"
"What about him?" Sinclair watched her lover suck the last of the ice cream from the cone, then pop the last bite in her mouth.
Hunter slid her a lazy look as she chewed. "Does he know that she's invited me over?"
"I would assume so, although I haven't talked to him myself about that, or about us."
Hunter stopped walking. "You're not hiding this, are you?"
"Hardly." Sinclair kept walking. "Oh, come on, the house is only around the corner. Don't make me stop now." The other woman caught up with her. "He knows where I spend most of my nights and days. He and I have just never talked about it." She tossed Hunter a grin. "If you're so anxious to be out and proud then come Friday dressed in your lesbian best."
"Very funny."
Sinclair chuckled. "I thought it was."
Hunter lightly pinched her waist. "Then you better run, funny girl, 'cause I'm coming to get you."
Sinclair screamed and took off running toward her father's house. She flew up the badly paved street, almost breaking her ankle in a pothole, but kept going, dashed through the gate, under the crape myrtle trees sprinkling their lavendercolored blossoms in the late morning air, and up the gravel walkway. Hunter caught her when she stopped to unlock the door, fumbling at the keyhole with fingers that shook from her uncontrollable giggles. Hunter pinned her against the door, pressing her belly against Sinclair's back.
"Do you know what funny girls get?"
Sinclair laughed and finally slid the key in. "No, but can I please find out soon?"
The lock turned but she didn't open the door. It felt so good to have her lover's body against her, to feel her warm length and be surrounded by her smoky sage and sandalwood scent.
"Let's take this inside, then. I don't want to give a show to the people passing by."
Sinclair stumbled over the threshold and pulled Hunter after her. She locked the door behind them, shoved the keys in her jeans pocket and jumped on Hunter. The other woman gasped her surprise, but quickly slid her palms under Sinclair's ass as Sinclair wrapped her legs around her waist and kissed her, slanting her mouth hungrily across the receptive lips.
"Bedroom," Sinclair muttered. Her breasts ached beneath the abrasive cotton of the T-shirt. They needed the softness of the other woman's skin, her mouth.
Hunter stumbled through the beaded curtains that separated the sitting room from the narrow hallway leading to the bedrooms. The beads knocked together, discordant and loud. Some caught in Hunter's hair, but she impatiently pulled away, turning right into Sinclair's temporary bedroom and slammed the door behind them. The buttons on Hunter's shirt separated from their holes under Sinclair's quick fingers. Her hands found the hard-softness of the dark woman's nipples and she sighed. They fell backward on the bed with Hunter pinned under Sinclair's body and ravening hands, gasping under the greedy mouth and at the fingers that pinched and stroked her nipples. She tugged at Sinclair's zipper. They didn't hear the door open, but the high squeak of surprise and quickly drawn breath warned Sinclair.
"I can't believe this!"
They jumped apart, guiltily. Or at least Sinclair did, rolling off the supine Hunter to sit on the bed. The dark woman slowly pulled the edges of her shirt together and stood.
"Hullo, Lydia. What an unexpected surprise."
Sinclair felt herself flush wine red. Her face prickled with embarrassment.
"What the fuck is this, Sinclair?" Lydia glared at her sister before turning to the other woman. "Hunter?"
Her ex-girlfriend shrugged and began to button her shirt. "This is definitely not the best way for you to have found out."
"What do you mean the best way? This shouldn't even be happening." Lydia took in Sinclair's flushed face and the hard points of her nipples visible through her T-shirt. Then she turned around and walked out.
Sinclair stood up to follow but Hunter stood in her way.
"That probably wouldn't be the best idea," she said.
"Then what-" Sinclair sank back to the bed. "I don't know."
Outside, they heard a car start up and drive away.
"Give her a little time." Hunter's mouth twisted into a grimace. "Sorry about all this."
"It's not your fault. I should have told her before now."
"Well, you know hindsight and all that." Hunter sat down beside Sinclair. "Are you all right?"
"Not really." Sinclair sighed. "I'm going to talk to her later."
"Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow," she agreed, collapsing backward on the bed. "That was fucked."
"Do you want me to go?"
"Yes. No. Shit, I don't know." She turned to look at Hunter. "I feel awful."
"Not unexpected. Tell you what, I'll go, you relax and try not to think too hard about this mess."
"So you're just going to leave me?"
A tiny smile curved Hunter's mouth. "I'll keep you company if you want me to."
"Yes. Distract me."
Hunter looked at her trembling lower lip and the frustrated tears that lurked at the corner of her eyes. "Come on," she said. "Put on your bath suit. We'll go for a swim and wear you out so you won't have to think about this so much."
"That sounds better than the initial abandonment idea."
"Drama queen."
Hunter packed Sinclair up with sandwiche
s and drinks into the jeep and took her to the beach.
"I'm miserable. This outing isn't working."
"Well, you look gorgeous and edible," Hunter said, nibbling playfully on her ear.
She didn't look so bad herself in the pale blue bikini she'd pulled from the backseat of her jeep. It was a tiny thing made up of string and three pieces of scrap that showed off her lean body with its sweet swell of breasts and casually worn muscles. It almost made Sinclair forget about Lydia's untimely interruption. Almost. Then Hunter pulled her into the cold water and her mind became completely focused on other things.
The next day, she showed up at her sister's house. The Cadillac sat in the driveway and the savory smells of a curry dinner floated outside, teasing her nose. Sinclair rang the doorbell. She thought she heard someone approach the door, but when it remained closed she knocked again.
"Lydia, open up. I know you're in there."
Still no answer. Sinclair ignored the pinch of annoyance she felt and instead lay down in the hammock draped across her sister's elegant, colonial-style verandah. This was a peaceful middle-class neighborhood. The Blue Mountains soared just behind the house, the only trace of untamed nature in the manicured surroundings. When Sinclair had first met her sister she was surprised that Lydia lived here, but now she could see how the other woman fit into this carefully cultivated setting. Sinclair glanced at her watch.
"This is stupid, Lydia." She got up and knocked on the door again. "You have to talk to me." Her fist pounded the door in a loud, continuous staccato rhythm that jerked shockwaves of pain into her wrist and hand. The door flew open, startling Sinclair.
"I don't have to do shit." Her sister stood in the doorway in shorts and a T-shirt with a food-splattered spatula in one hand.
"Are you throwing a tantrum?"
"Why don't you just go back to Papa's house and leave me the hell alone?"
"Because we need to talk about this."
"I don't think that's necessary. You're fucking Hunter. End of story."
"That's not the end of it." Sinclair's voice rose. "Stop acting like a child."
"Oh, for fuck's sake." Lydia looked down her driveway to the empty street. "Come in. I don't want my neighbors watching the dykes brawl on my front lawn."
"Thanks. I think." Sinclair stepped inside the house.
Lydia slammed the door behind them and walked through the living room to the kitchen. "I can't believe you came to my house," she muttered.
"What else was I supposed to do when you wouldn't answer the phone?"
"Take a hint and not try to contact me at all." Lydia dropped the spatula in the sink and turned down the flame on the stove. "So you're here. Now talk."
Sinclair released a tense breath. "I'm sorry about what happened yesterday. That's not how I wanted you to find out."
"Like I said, there shouldn't have been anything for me to find out. After I confided in you, told you how I felt, you still went to her." Lydia narrowed her eyes. "Is that how they do things in America?"
Not again. "Stop using America as an excuse for every fucking thing that's wrong with us, with this family! I fucked her because I wanted to. My Americaness does not factor into this. You didn't want her, and I did. It's as simple as that."
"What about family loyalty?"
"When was it ever disloyal to have a little friendship with your sister's unwanted ex?"
"Friendship?" Lydia gave a short bark of laughter. "That's a good one." She paced away from Sinclair. "If it was all so blameless then why did you keep it from me?"
Sinclair opened her mouth but nothing came out. The two women looked at each other.
"I should rip your lying tongue out," Lydia said.
"Now just wait a damn minute. I don't go for any of this fighting over a sex partner bullshit."
"Then why did you touch her? You knew it would have to come to this."
"No, I didn't," Sinclair said. "If I knew you'd threaten to cut out my fucking tongue and act like a psycho over a woman you didn't want, then I wouldn't have touched her."
They both realized that she was lying at the same time. Lydia's look was poisonous. Sinclair shook her head, laughing ruefully. "OK, I take it back." She released a steadying breath. "Do you really hate her that much?" Her question was soft, barely above a whisper.
"I don't hate Hunter. I love her."
"Is this how you show your love?"
"Yes," Lydia hissed. "She deserves better than a cheap imitation of what she can never have."
Sinclair jerked back in shock. It wasn't like she hadn't thought the same thing herself, but hearing her sister say the words made it hurt worse. "You had your chance, Lydia. You had Hunter and because she'd been with someone you didn't like, you threw her away like an old toy. She's worth more than that. And I show her."
"I bet you do." They glared at each other across the narrow space.
"Don't worry. It's not like I'm going to marry her and take her back to the States with me."
Lydia gasped as if the idea had never occurred to her. That someone could physically take Hunter away.
"Don't flatter yourself into thinking that that's going to happen," she said. "You're nothing more than a piece of ass, a way to scratch the itch that I didn't."
"Don't be crass, Lydia. It doesn't suit you."
"What the fuck would you know about what suits me?"
"OK." Sinclair backed up. "I see that this isn't getting us anywhere. I'm going to leave now."
"Good riddance. I don't know why you came here in the first place." She turned back to the stove. "You know your way out."
Sinclair walked out and didn't look back.
Chapter 19
n the night of the dinner party, Sinclair helped Nikki cook. She didn't know half of what her stepmother was making, having been put to work chopping, pureeing, and being the general kitchen slave. Nikki knew how her discussion with Lydia had gone two days before and had spent that time trying to distract her since Hunter was off somewhere earning her computer scientist's salary.
Victor was quiet that evening, sitting behind his newspaper or overseeing Xavier's homework. Before Hunter was due to arrive he went to water the plants in the yard.
"Is Papa OK?" Sinclair looked up from setting the dinner table. They had expanded the table to its full width and unearthed one of the two extra chairs that went with it.
"He's fine," Nikki said as she wiped down the kitchen counter with a wet rag. "I think he talked to Lydia, though. She might have told him that she was mad at you but not why. It's not like she ever let him know that she and Hunter were girlfriend and girlfriend."
"True. But he acknowledged them as a couple. Remember how he asked about Hunter at the cookout?"
Nikki slid a fresh jug of carrot juice in the fridge. "You worry too much. Everything will be fine."
Hunter came at seven on the dot, dressed in her best jeans and a button-down linen shirt. She brought wine for the grown-ups and ginger biscuits for Xavier. Sinclair greeted her at the door.
"Hey. Right on time."
"I didn't dare be late today." She kissed Sinclair lightly on the mouth. "How is everything going?"
"Good, I think. Lydia may have talked to Papa and badmouthed me but I'm not entirely sure."
"Nothing to be done about that. We're here to eat and be social and be happy."
Sinclair led her into the living room, holding her hand and the bottle of wine. Xavier looked up from his toys as the women walked in.
"Hunter!"
"Hey, big boy. What are you doing?"
"Waiting for dinner. Mama says we can't eat until you come."
"I'm here." Hunter grinned.
Xavier smiled back and hopped up from his mess of toys scattered in front of the television. "Food!" He raced into the kitchen ahead of the women.
"I think somebody is hungry," Hunter said.
Victor walked into the kitchen at the same time that they did. The already small room suddenly felt very tiny.
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"Hunter." He inclined his head toward the dinner guest. "How are you?"
"Fine, Mr. Daniels. No complaints."
"Good, good." He washed his hands under the kitchen tap and sat down at the table. "Sit beside me, Xavier."
Everyone sat at the table and said grace over what Sinclair finally identified as stew peas and rice with sweet corn fritters and a bit of steamed cabbage on the side for health. Xavier wasn't the only one pleased at what Nikki turned out. They attacked their food at once, immediately making low sounds of appreciation and praises to the cook.
"Fabulous, as usual, Nikki," Sinclair said, lifting a forkful of stew and rice.
"As usual? I was hoping for out of this world since Hunter was our guest tonight."
Hunter smiled at the smaller woman. "Trust me when I say this is a stellar meal, Nikki. I haven't had it this good in a long, long time."
"Thank you." Nikki swept a pleased glance around the table, her cheeks blooming with subtle color.
Not to be outdone, Xavier raised his empty fork in the air. "This is the best stew peas ever."
"Thanks, sweetheart." She lightly touched the back of his neck.
Victor picked up a corn fritter. "So, Hunter. Nikki tells me that you and Lydia are no longer ... friends."
Sinclair almost choked on her carrot juice. She turned to Hunter as her lover slowly put down her fork.
"That's not necessarily true," she said. "Lydia and I are still friends. Or at least we were until a few days ago. We just don't have the same relationship that we used to."
"The kind of relationship you used to have with Lydia, that's what you now have with Sinclair?"
"No. Sinclair and I have something better."
Victor nodded and bit into his fritter. "Is Lydia OK with that?"
"I don't think so, but she and I ended our involvement before Sinclair and I got together so there shouldn't be any hard feelings on her part."
Victor glanced at Sinclair then back again at Hunter. "You're very honest. I like that."
Nikki cleared her throat. "How is Della doing these days, Hunter? I haven't seen her in forever."
"She's doing all right. Things have been real busy at the shop ever since you told the Breckenridges about her work. She can't make those goddess pots fast enough."
