Warm November

Home > Other > Warm November > Page 21
Warm November Page 21

by Kathleen Knowles


  Often, she got wisdom and help from people who were radically different from her.

  “My name is Alec and I’m an alcoholic.” He was a youngish man, with a shaved head, nose rings, and a Megadeth T-shirt. He told a story about how he’d been sober for six months and his girlfriend had stood by him; he was doing fine and talking to his sponsor and working the steps. He was doing all the suggestions in AA. Merle knew from experience that something else was coming.

  “So like, yeah. Here I am Mr. AA. I’m the Man. I even got my old job back at the record store. The owner had booted me out and told me never to come back. You know, I took some advice from one of our fellows and just asked him for my job back, and he could see I was sober and I told him I was in AA and he said, ‘Yeah. Okay. I’ll give you another chance.’” He stopped and sniffed, trying to contain his tears.

  “Three days ago, my girlfriend left me. Out of the blue. She said, ‘It’s nothing I can say for sure. You’re different. It’s different. I can’t hang. Sorry.’ That was it.”

  He paused, to command his emotions. Merle sympathized with him, both because of his story and because of his tears. One of the effects of sobriety is to bring your emotional pain very close to the surface. No longer anaesthetized by alcohol or drugs, you are a very large and very raw nerve.

  At the end of the meeting, Merle went over to Alec and told him her name. “My girlfriend left me too,” she said. “After ten years.”

  “Holy fuck, man. That sucks.” Alec embraced her and they both cried a little.

  “It really sucks. And the not knowing why is the worst,” Merle said.

  “Maybe we don’t have to know,” Alec said. “Maybe we’re not meant to know. I mean it would be nice to, but who says it all has to make sense?”

  “True. That’s my problem. I want it all to make sense. I want everyone to do what I want them to do. And above all, they have to behave logically.”

  “Right, man. That would be a big fucking help, wouldn’t it?” Alec laughed. Merle was happy she’d cheered him up. She felt better. She wasn’t the only virtuous human whose lover had dumped her for no good reason. It was always good to be reminded she wasn’t unique.

  She drove home thinking of the inexplicability of human behavior, her own included. She’d slept with Hayley because she wanted to, and it wasn’t just mindless lust. She was certainly not completely over Kay, but she was a little further along after hearing Alec’s experience and talking to him. She probably needed to talk to Hayley again to try to explain herself better, though how that would cheer Hayley up, she had no clue. God, she despised guilt; it was such a useless emotion. Well, she wasn’t going to rid herself of it until she talked to Hayley.

  *

  Merle sat on the front porch with a glass of iced tea. It was Friday after work, and since it was October, it was still seventy-five degrees and clear. San Francisco’s summer occurred in September and October. The western wind didn’t blow so hard, and the fog didn’t roll in every afternoon. Merle gazed over the edge of Bernal Hill toward the downtown skyline. She ought to be happy, sitting on her own porch with her beloved dog looking at a striking view of one the most beautiful cities in the world. But she wasn’t.

  She knew what contentment and serenity were like. She’d felt it before but didn’t feel it now. To get it back, she had to start with having a heart-to-heart with Hayley. She expected her home any moment and hoped she’d agree to join her on the porch.

  Arthur jumped up from the floor and wagged his tail, his gaze riveted to the sidewalk. Sure enough, Hayley was striding toward the house. She turned up the walkway and waved at Merle, who waved back, mesmerized. She was so good-looking. She’d likely walked from Cortland Avenue so she was slightly disheveled, but it only made her more attractive. Merle flashed on how she’d looked when they were making love, weeks before, then sternly banished the image from her mind.

  “Hi there. Would you like some iced tea? I just made some.”

  Hayley had dropped her bag and was petting a very enthusiastic Arthur. She looked up and grinned. “Sure.”

  Hayley went into the house and returned with her glass, then plopped into the other Adirondack chair and set her glass on the old telephone cable spool that served as the table. She sighed. “Wow. Is this nice or what?”

  “Yep. It sure is. We’ve got to enjoy summer while we can.”

  “I know. I guess the only thing missing is the ocean.” Hayley took a sip of her tea and looked over Bernal Hill dreamily. “I only miss my old house for that reason. I could see the ocean out the bedroom window and could walk to it in ten minutes. I used to love to do that after work at this time of year. It was lovely with the afternoon sun shining.”

  Merle looked over at Hayley, who had her head back, her eyes closed, and was slightly smiling, no doubt picturing the Pacific Ocean off the Great Highway on a sunny October afternoon. She looked peaceful and very beautiful.

  “I can imagine. Look, Hayley, could we talk for a few minutes?”

  Hayley’s eyes flew open and she turned to meet Merle’s gaze. “Sure.”

  At the intense eye contact, Merle immediately forgot what she wanted to say. Hayley was looking at her so closely she was starting to weaken again, much as she had on that Friday-night post-Sherrie invasion.

  “Again, I regret things have turned out the way they have, and I’m sorrier than ever about the way I acted.”

  “Are you sorry we slept together?”Hayley’s tone wasn’t angry but it was crisp.

  “Oh, no. Not that. Not at all. I feel bad I did such a poor job explaining myself that I tried to tell you what you should do and how you should feel.”

  “Hmm. Okay. I’m listening. Go ahead.”

  She looked so stern that Merle wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or to kiss her. Neither action would be a good idea.

  “I wasn’t clear about what kind of mental state I was in, and my own feelings were sort of mysterious to me. I’ve had some time to think and also to talk to a couple of friends and—” Merle stopped talking and looked at Hayley to gauge her reaction. She couldn’t read her, and their eye contact made her lose her train of thought.

  “Right. Go on.” Merle couldn’t tell if she was angry or not.

  “My relationship with Kay ended a few months ago, and I haven’t truly processed it. My friend Clea said I’m grieving the death of the relationship.”

  “I see.” Again her tone wasn’t angry, but it wasn’t sympathetic either.

  “Yes. So. I can’t move on to anyone or anything new until I get over that.”

  “Got it.”

  “So, Hayley. I want you to know that I like you very much and I respect you and obviously some part of me is really attracted to you, but it’s just not the time, for me. I want to be clear about that.”

  “You were clear enough the other week. Don’t worry. And I’m fine, so you needn’t worry about my feelings. I’m over it.”

  Merle thought Hayley might be overdoing the hard-ass routine just a touch but didn’t mention it. She honestly was glad that Hayley seemed all right. “Okay. Well, I want us to be friends and enjoy each other’s company as we used to. I miss that.”

  “I do too.”

  “Good. So would you like to make dinner together tonight?”

  “Sure.”

  They went to the kitchen and started preparing some fish and some rice and sautéed vegetables. Arthur took up his post in the kitchen door and panted as he watched them.

  As they ate their dinner, the silence stretched out longer than usual.

  Hayley chewed on some rice and vegetables and stared into space, then said, casually, “I’m going on a date tomorrow. Someone I met at work. A client’s sister, actually. The case is over.”

  “That’s nice,” Merle said automatically. She was annoyed that, again, the prospect of Hayley going on a date called up all sorts of inappropriate jealous feelings in her. God, she was so unevolved, it was ridiculous. When was she going to get over thi
s shit?

  “Yeah. I really like her. She’s very nice and very good-looking. Smart, funny. The whole nine yards.”

  “Good. I’m happy to hear that. Good luck.”

  Hayley chewed another mouthful of food, then and looked at Merle, expressionless. “Thanks. I feel good about it so far.”

  They finished eating, tidied up, and went to their separate corners of the house.

  *

  Hayley dressed with special care for her date with Angie. She’d gotten a whole new outfit, including shoes, and made sure the fit was perfect. She even had the pants tailored. She felt good in the clothes, good in her body, and fine about the whole idea: Angie, the date, herself. The whole thing was good.

  “Not bad for an old broad,” she told her reflection. At the same time, she cautioned herself to not get her hopes up. All her other dating experiences had been so, well, so disappointing, it was hard to think this was any different. But it felt different. She’d had a chance to spend time with Angie before even reaching the date stage, and everything pointed to a good outcome, maybe even a sleep-over. Hayley shivered at that idea. She pictured Angie’s trim little body nude.

  Angie picked her up right on time. When Hayley opened the front door, Arthur at her side, Angie held out a bouquet of autumn flowers to her. It was just right.

  “Come in while I put these in water, and then we can go.”

  “Who’s this?” Angie asked, indicating Arthur, who was watching them with his usual mix of benign curiosity and attention-begging.

  “My roommate’s dog, Arthur.”

  “He’s sweet. Where’s your roommate?”

  “Out. I don’t know. We don’t keep tabs on each other.” Just talking about Merle in such a casual way made Hayley’s heart ache. Would her longing ever go away? She hoped Angie would banish it for good. She didn’t want to expect too much from poor Angie, but still, maybe a few orgasms with another woman and her feelings for Merle would vanish into the ether. Poof. Gone.

  They went to a romantic movie at the Embarcadero Cinema downtown. Afterward, they strolled through the complex, and it seemed perfectly natural to hold hands. The mild weather was holding so it was pleasant to be out at night. The Financial District skyscrapers were twinkly with light. They walked all the way to Justin Hermann Plaza. Behind it was the San Francisco Bay, featuring the newly rebuilt Bay Bridge’s towers and cables outlined with white lights. The black water of the Bay reflected them, along with all the lights along the East Bay shore where Oakland and Berkeley cast their own reflections.

  “Look up there.” Angie pointed. “You know what that is, right?”

  Hayley followed the direction of Angie’s finger and squinted. It looked like a castle outlined in gold.

  “What the heck is that? I’ve seen it before. I should know, but I don’t.”

  “Mormon Temple.”

  “Oh, jeez, really? They’re here? In the Bay Area?”

  “They sure are, right up there in the Oakland Hills.”

  “Oh, my word.”

  “We’re safe. They can’t get us.” Her voice was tinged with humor. Hayley laughed. They became very quiet.

  Hayley could see Angie’s eyes reflecting the lights. It was a lovely visual. Angie turned to toward her. This was it. Their lips met and molded, exploring. To Hayley it was dreamlike, unreal. She tasted vestiges of the cocktail, a mai tai, that Angie had drunk a short while before, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

  Angie’s fingers entwined her hair and gently massaged her scalp, and that felt good as well.

  All elements were present: night-time, the romantic city of San Francisco, a little bit of alcohol, a lovely, sexy woman with whom she shared an easy rapport.

  So why wasn’t she massively turned on and ready to jump into the car, rush back to Angie’s flat, and dive into bed?

  Hayley suspected she knew the answer, but she didn’t want to bring it into her consciousness. She wanted this evening to be what she wanted it to be. “Mmm. This is nice but I’m getting cold. I should have brought a sweater.”

  Angie was wearing a nice gray blazer. She immediately took it off and held it up.

  “Here you go.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Never better. Would you like to head back now or—?”

  “Yes, please. Let’s get inside.”

  Angie looked at her tentatively. “Where to?”

  “How about you show me your flat?”

  “Of course. Be glad to.”

  During the drive uptown to the Inner Sunset, Hayley went back and forth in her head. Yes or No?

  The moment of truth would be presenting itself shortly, and she had to decide what she wanted to do. If she went to bed with Angie, it would likely be just fine, but wouldn’t she be a fraud if she went ahead and slept with someone she wasn’t truly, deeply, profoundly sexually attracted to? She didn’t know. She didn’t want to be a jerk.

  She really wanted to have some more sex, but as nice as Angie was, she couldn’t summon forth that headlong, no-holds-barred, deep lust she’d experienced with Merle. It didn’t seem right to say to someone who wanted you, “Gee, I don’t know. You just don’t do it for me.” Especially since up to this point she’d exuded come-hitherness. This was a sticky situation; how in the hell had she ever let herself get caught up in it?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Merle came home after the movie she’d gone to alone and took Arthur out for his last bathroom break. Because it was a nice night, she decided to go for a walk instead of letting him into the backyard. She stuck to the streets because Bernal Hill could be a bit spooky in the dark. She strolled up Bonview, in spite of her best intentions wondering where Hayley was and what she was doing. It was ten o’clock and she wasn’t home yet. Merle scolded herself for even thinking about it.

  Back home, she thought about how to structure her day. She needed way more meetings to help her get past this obsession, which was threatening to take over her life. She looked online and found a couple of meetings she’d never been to before. Maybe they would help her get a different perspective.

  It took her a long time to fall asleep.

  *

  “Nice place. Have you got anything to drink?” Hayley asked. If she was going through with this she needed some lubricant—of the alcoholic variety. She’d fluctuated the whole way over to Angie’s flat but couldn’t reach a conclusion. If she were in Angie’s shoes and her date backed out now, she would be royally pissed. Then again, if she went through with it and then kissed her off, that would be worse, or would it? She decided to just see what happened and how she felt.

  Angie handed Hayley a large glass of wine, the twin of the one in her hand. Oh ho, someone else was a little nervous. That helped.

  They sat on the couch and clinked glasses.

  “How long have you lived here?”

  “About five years. I used to live over in the Excelsior. Out in the boonies.”

  “No shit? Why’d you live out there?”

  “We wanted to buy a house, and that was the only place we could afford. Outside of Visitacion Valley or Hunter’s Point.”

  “We?”

  “My partner and I.”

  “Oh. Wow.”

  “She’s dead, passed away from breast cancer three years ago.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m okay. I’m over it. I don’t want to talk about it especially. Not now.”

  Angie took a healthy gulp of wine and smiled at Hayley over her glass. She ran her wet finger over the rim, and the glass made a ringing sound.

  Hayley was stunned, though she didn’t know why she should be. Women died from breast cancer with depressing frequency. She took a big mouthful of her drink, and it rushed right to her head. She smiled vaguely at Angie, completely at a loss as to what to say.

  Angie saved her from further anxiety about making small talk by moving closer, putting her arm around her shoulder, and playing with her hair. They were close e
nough to kiss, so Hayley took the lead and brought her head near Angie’s, and they met in the middle. The kiss was longer this time and more sensual. Angie was a superior kisser. She was tender and just assertive enough but not overwhelming. Hayley’s breathing speeded up, and she grew warm and tingly in the right places. Maybe it would be all right, after all. They got closer and more active with their hands. Hayley ran hers down Angie’s sides. She could feel her ribs and the firm muscles in her shoulders and back. It reminded her of Merle.

  She firmly shut her mind off and concentrated on pure sensory input. Angie squeezed her breast, which felt really good. They kissed with more ardor but stopped and looked at each other panting.

  “Shall we go on?” Angie asked, and it touched Hayley that she would be willing to let Hayley make that decision.

  “Oh yes. I want to very much.”

  Angie’s sexy smile, which lit up her face, was enough to propel Hayley to a higher level of arousal. This was going to work out. Her misgivings seemed silly.

  Angie stood up, took her hand, and led her down the hallway to a small, cozy bedroom. They took their time undressing each other, kissing and touching. Hayley unclasped Angie’s bra to reveal small breasts with large nipples, engorged with blood. Hayley kissed and licked each one, rewarded with a couple of deep moans from Angie. Angie tugged her hair and massaged her scalp more forcefully, but it felt good.

  They finally got totally naked and edged toward the bed. Angie drew down the covers and had Hayley sit, and then, with a hand on her chest, she pushed her gently backward. Again, to Hayley, it felt right that she let Angie carry the momentum. Her body was responding in all the right ways, and she welcomed the touch. She relaxed into the pillows and let Angie have her.

  Closing her eyes, she imagined Merle was touching her, making her warm and wet and craving an orgasm. Angie kissed her way down Hayley’s body from her cheeks to her neck to breasts, belly, and hips. The bed shifted as Angie moved down to her feet, then gently spread her legs. At the first touch of her tongue, Hayley gasped and moaned. Angie was as good at oral sex as she was at kissing. Her tongue was wet and her strokes were slow and steady and felt very good, but Hayley knew she wasn’t going to come. She almost got a leg cramp from tightening her muscles, but to no avail. She didn’t know how she knew it, but she was sure she wouldn’t come. After a while, Hayley tapped the top of Angie’s head.

 

‹ Prev