TrueLesbianLove.Com

by Carsen Taite

  “Bring her along,” Marty said. “I was only wondering if there was anyone special yet.”

  “Well, to be honest, I am kind of looking, but it’s a slow process.”

  “If you’re looking within the four walls of the Lakeside, I bet it’s slow. You should get out more.”

  “I suppose you think you’re the first one to deliver that sage advice. Not to worry, big brother, I’ve expanded my search to the Internet. Aimee talked me into signing up with one of those online dating sites. In fact, I was reading a message from a potential prospect when you called.”

  “Well, when you finally decide to put yourself out there, you certainly go all the way. How’s the prospect? Why don’t you bring her along to the party?”

  “Jeez, Marty, we haven’t even met. I don’t even know if I’m going to write her back. She spends all her free time fishing, from what I can tell. I can’t picture myself baiting hooks and cleaning fish.”

  “Are you going to sit around and wait for Ms. Right to come along, or are you answering ads too?”

  “Don’t hassle me. I barely started this little venture.”

  “True love doesn’t happen on its own, sis. Sometimes you have to go looking for it. Sometimes you even have to fight for it.”

  Mac was curious about the conviction her brother expressed, but she brushed it off. “When it’s right, it will happen. Look at Mom and Dad. They weren’t looking for true love, but they found it the very first time they laid eyes on each other.”

  “They loved each other, that’s for sure. But that story about how they met didn’t include all the complicating factors.”

  Marty’s voice tightened slightly. “Couples are often nostalgic about their first encounter. They want it to conform to the love-at-first-sight fantasy we all like to believe in. But the truth is, falling in love can be a messy process. As for staying in love, there are lots of bumps and bruises along the way.”

  “Who are you?” Mac asked in amazement. “That doesn’t even sound like something you’d say. Have you been watching Oprah? Since when did you become wise in the ways of love?”

  After a beat of silence, Marty replied quietly, “Since Alice and I spent the last year seeing a marriage counselor.”

  Mac gasped. “What the hell? I thought you guys were madly in love and crazy about each other.”

  “We were. We are. But mad and crazy aren’t always enough to get you through. All that passion at the beginning quickly fades when you have to find a way to blend your lives.

  You have to figure out where the lines are drawn. Trust me, if you don’t do the work of compromise at the beginning, you’ll have to do it eventually. There’s no getting around it.”

  Mac thought about the stress Marty and Alice had gone through trying to have a baby. Their attempts at parenthood had obviously strained their relationship. “Well, you sure know how to get a girl all revved up about dating.”

  “I’m sorry. I want you to meet that perfect someone. But I guess I’m trying to say that perfection is a relative state, and it may require some work on your part to achieve it. Give some of these women a chance. You could be missing out because things don’t look perfect from the get-go.”

  “Okay, old man, I’ll try to learn from your experience. I still think I’m going to toss the fisherwoman back, though.”

  “Understood. See you at the party?”

  “Spidey and I will be there.” As Mac hung up the phone, she resolved to reply to at least some of the e-mails awaiting her. She turned back to her laptop and clicked on the next one.

  Someone who called herself NoNonsense wrote: You have an interesting profile. Perhaps we should meet. I think we have a lot in common. I like books too. Let me know if you’re interested.

  Certainly short and to the point. Mac tried to see past the choppy, uninformative sentences to the woman who’d reached out to her. There was only one way. She typed a reply: Thanks for your e-mail. Glad to hear you’re a booklover too. I find it’s hard to balance all my life’s loves: books, bicycling, and running a restaurant, but I do my best to give them all equal time. What are your other passions and how do you make the most of your time?

  There, she said to herself, nothing like a question to get the conversation going.

  “Eight messages. Pretty good for not even trying,” Jordan remarked to herself.

  She sat her laptop on the stainless steel countertop of the kitchen island and opened the fridge in search of a snack.

  Hours ago, she’d eaten something unrecognizable for dinner at the hospital where she’d spent the day on call, and she was desperate for some real food. Not that she expected to find any in her barren refrigerator. Neat rows of Fiji bottled water, a lone jar of apricot preserves, and a foil-wrapped swan containing aged leftovers stared back at her, mocking her hunger. Thank God for delivery, she thought, hitting the speed dial for her favorite Thai restaurant. She ordered the usual, tom kha gai soup and pad kee mao, extra spicy. Her next stop was the built-in bar, where she poured herself three fingers of Glenmorangie.

  Settling into a bar stool at the kitchen island, she sipped the mellow single-malt whisky and glanced around, automatically checking that everything was in order in her environment.

  Her loft occupied the entire top floor of the old railway building in Deep Ellum, a neighborhood only blocks away from downtown Dallas. The exterior of the building retained its rustic warehouse look, while the interior was entirely modern with the exception of the old-fashioned screened-in elevator and the sliding steel doors that provided access to her apartment. Her sprawling living space had high ceilings and maple wood floors, and one of the reasons she’d bought the place was the enormous travertine-tiled bathroom. Most people would probably think six showerheads at various heights and angles was over the top, but bathing was a form of relaxation Jordan cherished. There was nothing like a massaging shower or a long soak in her whirlpool bathtub after a stress-filled day with her patients.

  To the casual observer, the loft would probably look like a model home, showing few signs of an occupant. Jordan had chosen Danish furnishings and museum-quality modern artworks to enhance the sleek look of the living areas. Her clothes and personal items were tucked away in cubbies customized to her preferences. She didn’t like clutter; her work delivered all the chaos she could handle. The loft was her retreat, a tranquil zone where she could renew herself and escape from the demands of others.

  Turning to her computer, she inspected her latest messages.

  More of the same, no doubt. She’d spent the past week deleting offers from women who seemed to think she was only kidding about wanting a casual hook-up, or that she was damaged goods hiding her true yearnings behind a shield of flippancy. It was incredible, she thought, how complete strangers thought they could analyze someone from a few sentences on an Internet dating site. She wondered how Mac was doing and whether she had the same needy women responding to her with their boring thoughts on long walks and love that knew no bounds.

  She paused at an unexpected subject line, the first to capture her attention: Am I Hot EnougH to tIE up? Wasting no time, she clicked on the message and devoured the contents.

  Dear Skin Deep,

  Do I have your attention? I found your profile very refreshing. Certainly saves a gal a lot of time when she knows up front exactly what she’s getting. I’ll be candid as well. Once you see my photo, I think you’re going to want to meet me. We can go out or stay in. I promise you the only strings attached will be made of satin. I look forward to our date.

  Malibu

  Jordan found Malibu’s photo and burst into a wide grin at the sight of a gorgeous sun-kissed blonde. Well, well. After a week of disappointment, she hadn’t expected to get this lucky.

  Malibu was a looker all right, assuming she’d posted a photo of herself and not some model from a back issue of In Style. A tiny icon at the bottom of the screen signaled she was online, so Jordan began typing a reply. A little electronic foreplay could
be fun.

  Malibu,

  Satin? I kind of had you figured for a leather girl and I’m usually right about these matters. How about you let me dress you? I have impeccable taste and a strong desire to please.

  SD

  While she waited for an answer, she glanced through the rest of her in-box and clicked open a note from Mac, inviting her to a birthday party for one of the Lewis kids. She replied quickly, accepting. She loved being part of the Lewises’ extended family and had known Jeremy since he was born. As she hit Send, Malibu’s response arrived.

  I’ll defer to your choice when it comes to accessorizing, but I was hoping your strong desire to please would involve undressing me. Well, dressed or not, I’m sure you’ll be pleased with the package. Let me know if you want to get together for some unwrapping. Signing off to get my beauty rest.

  Jordan was about to close her browser when a popup window announced that Mac was online. She clicked to initiate a live chat, typed a quick greeting, then keyed, Check out this one. Her name’s Malibu. The profile says “When the sun sets, I like to let my hair down. You can run your hands through it while we paint the town.” Not only does she rhyme, she looks like she would paint the town in exactly the shades I like. She’s a personal trainer. What do you think?

  The quick response was: Nothing personal, but I think you need some training. She’s hot, at least in her picture anyway, but are looks really all you care about?

  Give me a break. Jordan typed fast. I care about a lot of things. But, like I said last week, I’m not looking for love like you are. I don’t need that. All I want is to have a good time while I am in my prime. And having a good time means getting laid without the complication of a relationship.

  Maybe it’s the way you look at relationships, Mac replied. If you had a better attitude, you might enjoy being in one. As long as your first love is your career, every other relationship will seem like a drain.

  You’re one to talk. It’s not like you’ve had a relationship with anyone but the Lakeside in years. That place will always come first, no matter how many lovesick “I want to snuggle up with you by a cozy fireplace” babes you meet online. Don’t get me wrong, I think that’s fine. Be your own partner, that’s my philosophy.

  Mac’s response popped up as the intercom buzzed. Let’s see what that gets you.

  Wait, Jordan typed. She buzzed the delivery person up.

  It’s been nice chatting with you, pal, but dinner has arrived and I’m famished.

  Let me guess, Thai?

  How well you know me. It looked odd, Jordan thought, seeing their online names, Skin Deep and Laker Gal, on the screen. Somehow Mac felt less familiar to her.

  Jeremy’s party. Let’s go together, Mac offered. I’ll pick you up.

  It’s a date, Jordan replied. She was about to type something cute about getting lucky with Malibu in the meantime, but Mac had already gone.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “I think I’ll ask Malibu if she’s free for dinner Saturday night.” Jordan panted a little as she pedaled up the steep hill. “But you barely know her. In fact, I bet you haven’t exchanged more than two or three e-mails.” Mac’s words were punctuated by heavy breathing as she fought the resistance of the sharp incline.

  After spending all of Monday doing absolutely nothing, her body was reveling in this morning’s exercise. She made a point of getting in several distance rides each week, often with Jordan if she wasn’t working, and today was a beautiful day for biking. They’d looped around the lake and then branched off onto a trail providing a circuitous route to North Dallas.

  By the time they returned to their starting point, they would have traveled over thirty miles. It never ceased to amaze Mac that these bike trails took them all the way across the big city without any sense of the bustling traffic and commerce prevalent on the car-traveled streets.

  “We don’t need to keep e-mailing to get to know each other,” Jordan said. “I know enough to know I want to meet her and see if she’s everything she says she is. Hey, my seat’s feeling a little wobbly. Let’s pull up.”

  They maneuvered their bikes off the trail near a group of picnic tables. While Jordan fiddled with her seat post, Mac grabbed a Clif Bar from her pack and broke it in half.

  “I understand where you’re coming from,” she said, handing a piece to Jordan. “But these women could be crazy for all I know. I’m not sure I want to risk a face-to-face meeting until I know someone quite well.”

  Jordan inspected the underside of her seat. “Suit yourself.

  But people can say anything online. I don’t see how a blind date is any different. You’ve met plenty of strangers that way.”

  “Not to defend the blind date, because there isn’t a defense for that convention, but at least on a blind date someone I know has vouched for the person. Even if they weren’t entirely honest about things like looks and compatibility, at least they’ve taken my safety into account.”

  “You worry too much,” Jordan said. “Life’s too short.

  Take a risk. Make a date. If you don’t, they’ll think you’re not serious.”

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  Jordan gave her seat another once-over and announced, “Looks like I’m all fixed up. Ready?”

  Mac nodded and hopped on her bike, pedaling forward slowly until she was fully clipped in. Looking over her shoulder, she called out “Race you to the park,” and then pedaled away, full tilt, while Jordan was still packing her bike wrench in her seat bag.

  “You beast!” Jordan yelled, clumsily trying to clip in, speed up, and simultaneously avoid a pair of Rollerbladers winding their way down the trail. She double-timed to catch up and when she did, her heavy breathing punctuated the continued conversation. “If you’re concerned about safety, meet her in a busy place. Valet your car and you’ll avoid the awkward ‘I’ll walk you to your car in the dark, deserted parking lot’ moment.

  For that matter, make plans to meet in the middle of the day.

  There’s safety in sunlight.”

  “I guess I could do that.” Mac didn’t see herself gazing longingly into the eyes of the future Mrs. Lewis over lunch, however. “Dinner is much more romantic.”

  “Silly girl, if you believe in all that love-at-first-sight crap, then you have to believe that it can happen anytime, anywhere, don’t you?”

  “Been secretly reading romance novels, Dr. Love?”

  “Even I can’t avoid the constant influx of romantic imagery permeating our society,” Jordan replied. “It takes all my energy to steer clear of Cupid’s arrows.”

  “Maybe you should conserve that energy for something more productive, like—”

  “Don’t say it,” Jordan warned. “Don’t you even say it.”

  “What? I was going to say cycling.” Mac laughed. “Use some of the energy and race me to Starbucks.”

  Jordan sped off, shouting, “Last one there buys!”

  After a short sprint to the coffee shop, they declared a tie and clipped out of their bikes, leaving them propped them against the glass storefront. An icy blast of refrigerated air swept over their heated, sweaty bodies as they stepped indoors.

  “Great day for a ride,” remarked the clerk.

  Jordan met a pair of deep blue eyes. They belonged to a slim, dark-haired, androgynous girl. Cute, but young. Jordan thought, Stop staring, she’s a child. Shaking her head, she said, “Sure is. Too bad you’re stuck in here.”

  “Yeah, I’d love to be out enjoying the day, like you and your girlfriend.”

  Jordan’s head snapped up. Did this kid call Mac her girlfriend? She stared hard, but the girl’s expression didn’t reveal any hidden meaning.

  Mac threw an arm over Jordan’s shoulder. “I’ll have my usual. I’m going to have a seat outside with the bikes.”

  As Mac walked away, Jordan withdrew her Starbucks card, but when the clerk reached for it, Jordan held her end of the card tight and pulled the pretty young woman toward her.
/>   “I don’t do girlfriends,” she whispered in her ear.

  “Is that right?”

  “It most certainly is. I do, however, like to have fun.”

  Jordan released the card.

  The clerk straightened. “Well, then we have something in common.”

  “How about you write your number on that receipt?”

  Jordan asked. “I’ll give you a call and we can discuss our newfound common interests.”

  Her eyes never leaving Jordan’s, the clerk scrawled something on the little white scrap of paper and pushed it toward her. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I won’t tell your girlfriend.”

  Jordan stiffened slightly but offered a vague smile, picked up the frosty drinks, and walked outside to join Mac at one of the tables.

  “What the hell took you so long?” Mac stared down into her drink. “The whipped cream is melting.”

  “Apparently, so is my technique. Miss Young Thing in there thinks you and I are some old married couple.”

  “Well, that certainly is insulting.” Mac laughed. “Don’t worry, Granny. I still think you’re foxy, for an old lady.” She curled her lips around her teeth and mimicked a toothless smile. “Do you want me to go set her straight?”

  “No, dear, I don’t want her to be straight. I was trying to get a date with her.”

  “That’s great. Ditch me for a pretty young thing when I’m reaching my prime. I should’ve known it would come to this.”

  Jordan kidded back, “Seriously, you’ve known me forever.

  What makes you think I’d make a good mate?”

  Mac paused for a minute and decided to end the levity. “I think you’d make someone a great partner when you decide to quit living like a playgirl. In fact, I’m not insulted that the little girl in there thinks I have what it takes to snatch a smart, successful, beautiful woman like you off the market.”

  Jordan smiled and reached across the table to wipe a spot of whipped cream from Mac’s upper lip. “Well, married or not, I’ll always be around to keep you from having food hanging off your face.”