Without a Net

by Kimberly Cooper Griffin

  Once the idea entered her mind, she couldn’t stop wondering. Did Meg think of her as a responsibility? She replayed the last few days in her mind, cringing to remember her displays of embarrassing emotional instability. Fiona decided not to call. Meg would call her if she wanted to see her.

  At a little after one, she was washing her plate and silverware from lunch, when a knock on her door filled her stomach with butterflies. Hoping it was Meg, she put the plate in the drying rack and quickly dried her hands. She was about to open the door when hesitation made her look through the peephole. Mike stood on the other side of the door biting the skin around his thumb. She pressed against the wall. No. No. No. She wasn’t ready to talk to him. He finally left when she didn’t answer the door.

  At least after Mike’s appearance, she had something to think about other than whether or not she should call Meg. When five o’clock finally rolled around, Fiona’s resolve started to soften. She picked up her phone repeatedly, only to put it down without dialing. Finally she had to walk away from the phone completely. She made it all the way down the hall before its draw became too powerful. She picked it up again, but another knock at the door made her jump. Was it Mike again?

  A quick look through the peephole filled her with elation and she forgot about her earlier worry. It was Meg. She couldn’t have hidden her smile if she tried. She opened the door and bounced on her tippy toes.

  “I was just thinking about calling you.” As if she hadn’t been obsessing over it all day.

  “I’m glad,” Meg replied with a smile. Was that shyness in her eyes? “I almost went home instead of coming over. I’ve been greedy with your time lately.”

  “I was thinking I was the greedy one,” she admitted. “It’s what kept me from going down to the coffee shop to see you today.”

  Meg laughed. “I was hoping you would, actually. Betty teased me about watching the door all day.”

  She was relieved she wasn’t the only one wondering about things all day. She followed Meg into the living room.

  “Have you gone out at all today,” Meg asked.

  She tilted her head. “I haven’t been out of my apartment since I went to the coffee shop to pick up breakfast a couple days ago.

  “You need to get out, then. How do you feel about picking up some dinner and taking it to Morningside Park? We could take a blanket and sit on the grass.”

  The almost painful longing Fiona had woken up with, the longing to touch Meg—kiss her and so much more—had not faded throughout the day, and she thought maybe it would be a good idea for them to get away from the apartment. “A picnic sounds divine. I can go after I feed the kittens.”

  “Why don’t I run and grab some food while you do that?”

  Thirty minutes later, the kittens were fed and Meg had returned with a brown paper bag from McNeely’s Deli. Fiona carried a blanket under her arm as they walked the two blocks to the park. She was nearly skipping with happiness about being with Meg. The sun was still high in the sky and the day was moderately warm, but the humidity was low and a nice breeze carrying the scent of water from the nearby Hudson River made the evening perfect for a picnic.

  A block from their destination, they heard faint strains of music, which to their delight led them to an unexpected gathering of musicians and onlookers congregated in an open area inside the park. Music filled the air. Fiona spread the blanket out in a shady spot and Meg opened up the bag containing their dinner. They were on the outskirts of the crowd, and the turkey sandwiches, potato salad, and kosher dill pickles Meg had picked up were wonderful. Meg even had a surprise for her—a jumbo double chocolate caramel brownie, which they shared while watching the eclectic audience enjoy the music.

  Fiona had gone to school or lived in the area for over seven years and had never known about the casual group of musicians who performed regularly in the park. It was a happy surprise to enjoy it for the first time with Meg. She was amazed at how the musicians improvised. Sometimes one or two performed together, while at other times the entire group came together, creating a symphony of sound that somehow weaved itself together perfectly. It was amazing and Fiona was possessed by the magic of the evening.

  “The people watching is almost as fun as the music,” Meg said, bobbing her head along with the music.

  “Look at the joy. The woman over there is sparkling with it.” Fiona discreetly motioned toward a woman several yards away, dancing with an unreserved passion, her long skirt swirling around her, her bare feet keeping time with the music in the thick green grass. There were quite a few people dancing, including one curly-headed little girl of two or three, who was swaying with innocent intensity. She screamed with glee when the song was over, jumping and clapping her chubby little hands.

  Fiona basked in the euphoria that had enveloped the crowd. “I’ll bet people float away from here on streams of bliss, no matter how rough their days may have been.”

  “They’d have to be dead inside not to,” Meg agreed.

  The musicians played until the sun began to set; the drums the last to perform, beating a slow tempo, seeming to invite night to fall. As people began to disperse, Meg and Fiona walked slowly back to Fiona’s apartment, enjoying the peace that had descended when the last drum stopped playing. The streetlights flickered on as the evening light made way for darkness—or what acted as darkness in the ever present ambient light of New York City.

  Fiona inhaled the night air and sighed. A sense of being in the exact right place, at the exact right time, with the exact right person, filled her. “I love it when I can smell the Hudson in the evening like this. Something about it reminds me of the river back home where my dad took me fishing when I was a kid. It would be just me and my dad sitting on the muddy river bank, holding our poles, watching the water bugs skim across the surface near the edge of the river.”

  “What a great memory,” Meg said quietly. “I can honestly say that being in the city has not once reminded me of home.”

  “Is that good or bad?” Fiona glanced at her.

  “Neither.” Meg shrugged. “I love Seattle. I also like New York. Ithaca was nice, but the winters are harsh.”

  “A little cold for you?” Fiona laughed.

  Meg made a ticking noise. “Cold is an understatement. Feet of snow. Biting winds. Frozen fingers and toes.”

  “I don’t think I could live somewhere where it doesn’t snow.”

  “It snows once in a while in Seattle, but even when it does, it doesn’t stick. Hearing my mom complain, though, you’d think it was Siberia.”

  “I didn’t know it snowed there. I picture it as always green.”

  Meg nodded. “The city shuts down when it does. But inland is different. In Okanogan, where my aunt’s clinic is, they get around ten inches a month on average during the winter months—not too much, not too little. Perfect for snowshoeing and cross country skiing.”

  “Besides a layover in LAX, I’ve never been to the west coast, let alone the Pacific Northwest,” she said. “I’d like to visit some time.”

  “You should.” They descended the steps to Fiona’s front door.

  Fiona keyed the lock, but the key wouldn’t turn all the way. “It’s the humidity.” She handed the blanket to Meg and wrestled with the tricky deadbolt, tugging and trying to turn the key as she whispered an inspired curse. “I hate this door sometimes!”

  “A little graphite sprayed in the deadbolt would probably make it easier to open,” Meg said, as Fiona found the perfect tug/key-turn combination and the bolt finally slid open.

  She took the blanket from Meg. “I think my landlord gave me some for the keyhole on my storage space.”

  Meg inspected the deadbolt. “I can see if it helps.”

  “Sure. Hold on.” She pushed the door open and went to find it.

  A few seconds later, she came back with a small spray tube. Meg squirted s
ome inside of the strike hole in the doorjamb and then a little onto the bolt and tested it. It worked beautifully. The bolt slid in and out with ease.

  “That should do it!” Meg looked pleased with herself.

  “Feeling handy, are you?” Fiona teased.

  Meg gave her a roguish grin. “As much as I don’t give a damn about gender roles, it’s a bit of a rush when I get to unleash a little of my inner butch.”

  Fiona snorted and covered her mouth. “Be careful what you wish for. I’ll be calling you more often to display your handywoman skills.”

  She laughed aloud when Meg hooked her thumbs in her pockets and strutted into the living room. She didn’t look the part in her REI hiking shorts, black tank top, and Rainbow flip flops. “Is there any wood you need chopped, Ma’am?”

  “Dang! I chopped all the wood this morning.” Fiona flopped onto the couch after she gave Meg’s arm a little shove. Meg laughed and flopped down beside her.

  “Well, you know who to call now.”

  “Seriously, though. You don’t know how much of a pain it’s been—especially when I’m loaded down with grocery bags. Where’d you learn that trick?”

  Meg shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’ve always just been good with my hands.”

  “Now I know who to call. You know. When I need a good pair of hands.” Fiona knew how it sounded and tried to suppress a smile. She almost succeeded, but when Meg looked at her, they both burst out laughing.

  Fiona wiped a tear from her eye and got up to put the tube of graphite away. As she rose, she slid her hand along Meg’s neck. “You sure get red when you blush.”

  Meg stopped laughing and when she locked eyes with Fiona she suddenly found it hard to breathe. Fiona slowly pulled her hand back, and nearly brought it to her lips. She cleared her throat. “What are we going to do with the rest of our night?”

  50

  A thousand responses went through Meg’s mind, but the one thing she really wanted to do was probably not what Fiona had in mind, even though her eyes and her touch—god, her touch!—seemed to indicate otherwise. The skin on her neck was hot where Fiona’s fingertips had swept across it and if Fiona thought she was blushing before, the heat rising to her cheeks was like a brush fire now. It was all she could do to stay on the couch and try to breathe normally.

  “What’s wrong?” Fiona asked. “You were all swagger a minute ago. Now you’re just staring at me.”

  Meg blinked a few times to clear her head. Fiona must think she was having some sort of episode or something. “I… I was trying to think of something to do.”

  “We could watch a movie or something. Were you planning on staying over again?”

  She had been hoping to stay over. The situation with Vi and all her drama was sure to continue at her place, but more than anything, she enjoyed sharing the bed with Fiona. As much as her attraction had continued to grow for her beautiful new friend, and as much as she would have expected her frustration about not being able to do anything about it to keep her from sleeping all night, she was surprised to find it was the opposite. She’d slept extremely well with Fiona by her side. But, was Fiona hoping to have her bed to herself tonight?

  She sat forward. “Do you want me to leave? Are you tired? Because, I can leave if you need—”

  “I’m not tired. I like having you here and a movie sounds good, actually.” Fiona popped the lid to the graphite on and off the tube. Was she nervous?

  “Are you sure? Because it’s not a big deal. I can poop the kittens and take off, if you want.”

  Fiona scrunched her forehead. “Well, to be honest, I feel bad relying on you to wake up in the middle of the night every night. It’s not fair for me to get to sleep, while you do all the work.”

  In Meg’s eyes, Fiona had been doing almost all of the work—getting the formula, feeding them all day, staying with them all the time. “You’re with them all day, though. And you need your sleep.”

  Fiona’s shoulders relaxed. “I’ve been feeling so much better with all the sleep I’ve gotten the last few days. And for some reason, I seem to sleep better when you’re here. It won’t be so hard to get up and go to work in the morning. By the way, are you sure you’re okay taking them tomorrow?”

  Meg smiled and tipped her head to the side. “I have the day off and nothing better to do. So I guess it’s settled. I’m staying over.”

  Fiona smiled back. “Good. It’s settled.”

  As if to support their decision, the kittens woke up and started to meow.

  Meg got up from the couch and looked into the box. Six little heads looked up at her expectantly and the volume of their pleas increased threefold. “Perfect timing, kids.”

  Fiona headed toward the kitchen. “I’ll get the formula ready if you get the wee beasties ready. You know where the clean towels are.”

  “Aye aye, Captain.” Meg headed to the bathroom. As usual, the specter of what was hidden in the tin in Fiona’s cupboard titillated Meg’s imagination. She tried and failed to push it from her mind as she attended to the kittens.

  From start to finish, it took them about thirty minutes to get the kittens fed and pooped. Soon all six were sleeping soundly in Meg and Fiona’s laps, while Fiona scrolled through the movie selection on her streaming feed. “I haven’t been to the movies in so long, anything will be new to me. You pick.”

  Meg stroked the belly of one of the kittens in her lap, amazed at how much they’d grown in the last few days. “How about a comedy?”

  “Are you into romantic comedies?”

  “It’s one of my very favorite genres.”

  “Mine, too!”

  In the end they settled on an old Meg Ryan film and recited most of the lines together. About halfway through the film, Meg looked over and caught Fiona staring at the kittens in her lap with the saddest look on her face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Fiona looked up and her eyes were glittering with tears. “Once they go to the foster home tomorrow, I’ll never see them again.”

  Fiona’s sadness pulled at Meg’s heart and she used the remote to pause the movie. “They’ll go to good homes. I promise.”

  “But, I’ll miss them.” Tears rolled down Fiona’s cheeks. Meg didn’t know what else to do. She pulled her into a hug. With kittens in both of their laps, the position wasn’t incredibly comfortable, but Fiona held onto her. Eventually, Fiona pulled away and wiped her nose on the hem of her shirt. “God, you must be sick of me bawling all over the place.”

  “If anyone has the right to cry, it’s you.”

  Fiona rolled her eyes. “Because I’m such a sad sack these days? I wish we met when I wasn’t such a wreck.”

  Meg ran her hand along Fiona’s arm. “You’re not a wreck.”

  “Believe me, I am.” Fiona wiped her nose again. “And now, I’m a snotty wreck. I have to change my shirt. Actually, I think I’ll go to bed. You can finish the movie if you want. There are only a few minutes left.”

  Meg put the kittens in their box. “I’ve seen it enough times. I’m tired, too.”

  They got ready for bed, and once again, Meg declined Fiona’s offer of pajamas, wearing her T-shirt and underwear to bed.

  As soon as they crawled under the covers, Fiona moved to Meg’s side and snuggled in. The physical response Meg had was stronger than the night before, and she wondered what it would be like to explore the beautiful body within the circle of her embrace. She dozed off with a hungry ache and less than innocent thoughts of the woman who fell almost immediately asleep in her arms.

  51

  The clock said she had a few minutes before the alarm would go off, but Fiona was wide awake and didn’t want to get out of bed. She blamed it on the woman who had her arm draped around her, gently cupping her breast, but she wasn’t complaining. She snuggled further into the soft body pressed along the length of her back a
nd tried not to groan when electric bolts of desire pulsed through her body and converged between her legs. This time, the body next to her was very real.

  In the predawn shadows, she lay on her side and floated in the erotic comfort of Meg’s warmth. She could barely stand it. Breasts against her back. Bare legs tangled among hers. Strong arms wrapped tightly around her. She ached with desire. Shifting further into the warmth, her core pulsed and Meg tightened the embrace in her sleep. Fiona couldn’t hold back a shudder when Meg’s lips brushed across her exposed shoulder. Gooseflesh rose all over her as warm breath tickled across her skin. Arousal coursed through her. Meg’s leg, so close to her core, tempted Fiona in ways she’d never felt before. As much as Fiona didn’t want to move, she needed to get up before she did something embarrassing.

  Once again, she had slept like a log. She hadn’t heard the kittens at all during the night. Meg must have attended to them, so it was only fair to let her sleep. She slid from the cocoon of warmth and sat on the edge of the bed. A sound of displeasure made her turn in time to see Meg reach out in her sleep. Fiona almost crept back into bed at the sight, but instead she turned off the alarm and watched Meg sleep for a few more seconds before she stood.

  A short while later, Fiona was showered and ready for work. She had some time to spare before she set out on her short walk to the office. Most days, Fiona went into the office early, but with Meg in her bed, she found it hard to leave the apartment. A shiver ran through her at the thought of the possibilities lying under the feather comforter. She stood at the front door contemplating the short distance spanning the real world and the fulfillment of her desire. It was pure terror that helped her decide to leave for Helga’s, instead. With nothing in the house for breakfast, she’d get coffee and muffins for Meg.