Without a Net

by Kimberly Cooper Griffin

  “Maybe a lot drunk.” She helped Meg open the cab door and watched her climb across the seat.

  Meg winked at her when she got situated in her seat. “I cannot tell a lie. I’m a lot more than a little drunk.” She giggled again but quickly changed her expression to something a little more serious. “So, she’s Tammy, huh?”

  “The one and only.” Fiona laughed as she got into the car. She told the driver to head to Morningside Heights.

  Meg wrapped her arms around Fiona and snuggled against her. Her body was pliant and heavy. Fiona delighted in the feel of the embrace as the cab made its way to her apartment.

  “She wasn’t at all what I imagined her to be.”

  Fiona smoothed Meg’s hair. “She’s always been a little different.”

  “You didn’t say if you ever saw her again after your thwarted graduation getaway.” Meg’s words were a little slurred. “I sort of thought she was out of the picture.” She popped her head up. “Did I sound jealous? I’m not. Well, maybe a little.” Fiona squeezed her. Meg had absolutely nothing to worry about. She loved Tammy. She was the one constant in her life and she knew she could count on her forever. But on a day to day basis, Tammy would drive her crazy, she knew that as certainly as she knew she would drive Tammy nuts. It’s what made them such great friends.

  “We’ve managed to stay in touch, although through no fault of my own,” Fiona said. “I was a mess after my mom and dad died. Tammy stayed by my side almost non-stop until after the funeral and she was the one who took me to the airport when I left for Thailand. She was amazing. When I got back, though, she had already left for her college, and I was off to mine. Once Aunt Corny sold the house, there was no reason for me to go back to Pottstown, so I didn’t. But we manage to see each other at least once a year.”

  Meg snuggled back into Fiona. “I like her.”

  “Me too.” Fiona rested her chin on Meg’s head, breathing in the smell of Meg’s hair.

  “I have a question.” Meg sounded like she might fall asleep.

  “I don’t want to sleep with her.” Fiona stroked the back of Meg’s head. “If I had, we would have done it by now. We’re past that.”

  “Good to know, but it wasn’t my question.”

  “Oh?” Fiona lifted her chin and gazed down at her.

  Meg sat up. “Will you come out to Seattle with me for my dad’s birthday?”

  A flutter of excitement tickled Fiona’s stomach. She didn’t even have to think about it. “I’d love to.”

  “I thought I’d have to talk you into it!” Meg studied her like she didn’t quite believe it.

  “I was already starting to miss you and it isn’t for another two weeks.”

  “Week and a half, actually. I plan to go out a little early so I can talk to my aunt about the clinic and look for a place to live. Can you take a few days off? I know it’s sort of last minute. I should have asked sooner.”

  She’d have to clear it with work, but she’d make it happen. “Sure, or I can work remotely while I’m out there.”

  “Great!” Meg hugged her. When she sat back, she had a big smile on her face and Fiona thought she was cute as hell. “My mom’s going to be excited.”

  “Why will she be excited?”

  “I’ve never brought a girlfriend home.”

  “What have I agreed to?” Fiona covered her face with her hands. “This is going to be a big deal isn’t it?”

  “Don’t worry. My mom’s cool.” Meg pulled Fiona’s hands from her face. She was laughing, so that was a good sign.

  “Is the rest of your family cool?”

  “Totally. I don’t expect CJ to be there. He’s the only one who might be a dick. But not specifically to you. He’s a dick in general.”

  “How did I get myself into this?” She playfully hit Meg in the stomach. She was still nervous, but mostly excited.

  64

  Fiona splayed her hands against the shower wall, her head directly under the stream of warm water, her body continuing to respond to the orgasm that had rocked through her. Meg held her from behind and kissed the side of her neck. Their bodies were pressed together, slick and warm. Would she ever get enough of this beautiful woman?

  “I’m not sure I trust my legs right now.” Fiona turned her head to give Meg more access to explore her neck.

  Meg didn’t even try to suppress her smile. “Exactly what I was going for.”

  “Mission accomplished.” Fiona turned off the water.

  Meg reached out of the shower, grabbed a towel from the cabinet, and wrapped it around Fiona, pulling her close and trapping her against her body. Meg stared deeply into the beautiful eyes that had enthralled her from the first moment she had seen them. The gaze meeting hers seemed to wrap around her, and her heart skipped a beat. Something huge welled up inside of her, filling her with a sense of blissful expectation and excitement. She watched as Fiona’s pupils dilated until the ring of color was a thin band around the dark point, seeming to pierce her soul. They stood there, staring at each other. I love you, whispered Meg’s heart. I love you. I love you. And she heard the answer of Fiona’s heart too, though neither of them uttered a word.

  Time stood still, their bodies pressed together and their eyes locked. It could have been hours or minutes or days. The sudden sound of the doorbell barely roused them from their trance. Neither of them moved.

  *****

  “Yoohoo!” A muffled voice called through the front door. The doorbell rang again. “Yoohoo!” The voice called out again. “Fiona, dear. It’s me. I have yummies for you!”

  Fiona tore her eyes from Meg’s. She’d seen something in Meg’s gaze that both scared and filled her with elation. She was frozen where she was, wrapped in Meg’s arms, feeling new and mysterious things. She smiled apologetically. “It’s Mrs. Rickles. I know she heard the shower running. These walls are paper-thin.”

  Meg grinned. “The theme from The Golden Girls is permanently imprinted in my brain.”

  The doorbell rang again.

  Fiona pushed the shower curtain open and Meg grabbed her wrist. “I’m not done with you. Let her go.”

  The look in Meg’s eyes made Fiona shiver, but she had to answer the door. “I promise. She won’t leave and I’m sure she’ll use the key I gave her, thinking I must have slipped in the shower.” Fiona squeezed Meg tightly, unwilling to leave her arms. Normally she didn’t mind, but normally she didn’t have a gorgeous woman’s naked body wrapped around her.

  She kissed Meg, stepped from the open shower, shrugged into her robe, and pulled her wet hair up into towel as she walked quickly to the front door.

  The doorbell sounded yet again. “Yoohoo!” Mrs. Rickles’ muffled, yet cheery voice called through the door.

  Fiona opened the door as her diminutive neighbor was about to slide her spare key into the lock. The surprise on Mrs. Rickles’ face was almost comical as she stood on the stoop in a house dress and sturdy heeled shoes, holding up a large plate of chocolate chip cookies. A leather purse looked huge dangling from the crook of her elbow. As always, Mrs. Rickles’ violet hair was perfectly coifed, and, as usual, her bright red lipstick was a little smeared, the result of her own unsteady hand. The old woman’s surprise morphed into a bright smile. It was impossible to be irritated at her effervescence, though.

  “Is that a turban you’re wearing, Fiona dear?” Mrs. Rickles squinted up at her.

  “I have a towel on my head, Mrs. Rickles!” She spoke loudly as Mrs. Rickles was a little hard of hearing.

  “Oh, yes, yes, yes! Silly, me. I seem to have misplaced my glasses again. I heard the shower. It was on so long, I thought maybe you might have fallen. I’m very pleased to be wrong.” Mrs. Rickles chuckled and shrugged her shoulders in amusement. “I have warm, gooey cookies for you, my dear.” Mrs. Rickles held the plate out to Fiona, trying to look around her and
into the apartment.

  “Come in, Mrs. Rickles. Thank you for the cookies.” She took the plate with one hand and hugged the woman with her free arm. When she pulled away, she hooked her finger under a beaded chain tucked into the light sweater Mrs. Rickles wore over her house dress. “I think we found your missing glasses.”

  Mrs. Rickles tugged the chain out from beneath her sweater and looked at them with amazement before she slid them onto her face. “So, we have!” she exclaimed.

  Fiona stepped aside as the little old woman walked slowly through the front door.

  “I’ll make us some tea. I have someone here I’d like you to meet.” Fiona glanced down the hallway as she passed. “Meg? Come meet Mrs. Rickles.”

  Meg poked her head out of the bedroom. She was clutching the towel around herself. Why wasn’t she dressed yet?

  Mrs. Rickles held up a T-shirt she’d found on the couch. Oh! Their clothes were still in a pile on the couch from when things got hot and heavy in the living room before they’d moved to the shower.

  “I caught you in the middle of doing laundry, I see.” Mrs. Rickles began to fold the T-shirt.

  Fiona gently took the shirt and picked up the little pile. “I’ll just put these away.”

  Meg was in the bedroom when she took the clothes back and they both burst out laughing.

  “Can I borrow some shorts?” Meg whispered. She gave her a clean pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Meg kissed her. “I’ll be out in a sec.”

  When Fiona went back to the living room, Mrs. Rickles was sitting at the kitchen table in the chair she usually chose when she came over for tea.

  “Do I finally get to meet the young lady you’ve been spending so much time with?” Mrs. Rickles asked.

  “Meg will be right out.”

  Mrs. Rickles held a finger to her chin. “Meg, is it? Short for Margaret?”

  Fiona was about to answer, but Meg appeared beside her and beat her to it. “Yes, ma’am, it sure is. Most people guess Megan. It’s nice to meet you.”

  Mrs. Rickles waved her over. “Come sit next to me.”

  “I’ll get the tea ready,” Fiona said.

  Meg sat in the chair next to Mrs. Rickles. Fiona smiled when Mrs. Rickles placed her hand over Meg’s. “My name is Margaret, too. I always longed for others to call me Meg,” she said wistfully. “Meg is so much more glamorous. But my mother always called me Maggie, so Maggie it was, and Maggie it remains.”

  “My brother used to call me Maggie. Now he calls me Megs.”

  “You do not strike me as a Maggie,” Fiona called to them as she put the pot on the stove.

  Meg laughed. “Me, either.”

  “Tea or coffee, Meg?”

  “Milk please,” Meg said. “There’s nothing better than milk with fresh baked chocolate chip cookies!”

  “Not if you’re lactose intolerant, dear,” Mrs. Rickles said, waving her hand in front of her nose like she smelled something foul. “I’m afraid I’d be a very unwanted guest if I indulged in so much as a tablespoon of milk.” Her eyes grew dreamy. “And, oh, how I love milk. I miss it so much. More than my dearly departed Walter, I dare say.”

  Meg snorted and then tried to hide it with a cough. Fiona watched her reaction with amusement. Mrs. Rickles was definitely a character. Some of the things she’d heard the four-and-half-foot woman say had more than surprised her. She looked so innocent in her bifocals and pink cheeks lined with a roadmap of wrinkles.

  “The water will be ready in a few minutes,” Fiona said. She stood behind Mrs. Rickles, patting her arm. She winked at Meg, who looked like she was still trying to hide laughter. She didn’t blame her. Mrs. Rickles was a riot without trying.

  Mrs. Rickles reached up and put her timeworn hand over Fiona’s. “I do so adore having tea with you, Fiona, dear.”

  “I do, too, Mrs. Rickles.”

  “And now we also have Meg. It’s a proper tea party!” Mrs. Rickles tittered. “Now, tell me how you know each other. I notice you visit quite a bit, dear. Our Fiona seems happy for it. How did you two meet?”

  Fiona explained the situation with the kittens. Mrs. Rickles spent most of her days watching the neighborhood from the comfort of the recliner in her living room so she wasn’t surprised by her observations.

  The old woman clucked her tongue. “Such a sad beginning to a wonderful friendship. But, they say relationships forged in fire make for stronger ties. So, there’s that. And you work at the coffee shop on the corner, Meg? I can’t say I’ve visited Helga’s. Tea is… well, it’s more my cup of tea.” She laughed at her own joke.

  Meg laughed politely, which pleased Fiona. “We have some excellent teas to offer. One of the owners actually grows many of the herbs and flowers they use. You may like them.”

  Mrs. Rickles looked like she had some doubts, but she smiled at the information. “Well, if I can get my ancient stumps to carry me down there one day, I will sample their teas on your recommendation, Meg. But it won’t happen until the fall, I dare say. This heat will melt the teats off a swine!”

  Fiona laughed. “I’ll take you down when it’s cooler, Mrs. Rickles. I haven’t tried their teas yet either. Speaking of which…” She went into the kitchen and retrieved a silver tray displaying the tea service she had inherited from Aunt Corny. She’d already filled the silver cream and sugar containers, added a container of honey, and had placed dainty china cups, saucers, and biscuit plates on it. Bags of Mrs. Rickles’ favorite tea, Twining’s English Afternoon, were in two of the cups, and milk was in another. She took the tray to the table and placed a saucer and cup at each seat. She then placed a tiny silver spoon on the edge of each saucer.

  “I should have known you’d have a fancy tea set,” Meg said.

  She lifted her chin and stifled a laugh. “A proper lady would never consider having high tea in coffee mugs.”

  “I think it’s absolutely delightful.” Mrs. Rickles clapped her hands. “My mother always had tea in the afternoon. Nothing as elegant as this, but she always had shortbread biscuits on hand for drop-in guests. Pity the child who put a grubby paw on her Lorna Doones!”

  She’d heard the story several times, but the nostalgia gleaming in the older woman’s eyes made Fiona smile.

  “I have Lorna Doones in the cupboard if you’d like some, Mrs. Rickles.” Mrs. Rickles usually abstained from the sweets she brought over, but on the occasion when she treated herself, Fiona had the cookies on hand, just in case.

  Mrs. Rickles patted Fiona’s arm. “I’m tempted, dear child, but tea is fine for me today. Doctor’s orders.”

  The teakettle began to whistle and Fiona popped back into the kitchen to transfer the hot water into the china teapot, before she brought it back to the dining room table where she poured it for Mrs. Rickles’ and herself.

  “I hope you like chocolate chip cookies.” Mrs. Rickles pushed the plate toward Meg.

  “I’ve heard about your famous cookies. I don’t know the last time I had a homemade chocolate chip cookie.” Meg selected a cookie.

  Fiona smiled at the anticipation on her face.

  Mrs. Rickles took a sip of her tea, closed her eyes, and sighed. “The tea is delicious, as usual, Fiona dear.” She turned to Meg. “When did you get out of the service, Meg?”

  Meg tilted her head. “The service?”

  Mrs. Rickles looked confused. “Fiona mentioned you were a veteran.”

  Meg’s eyes fill with understanding. “I’m a vet, but not that kind of vet. I’m a veterinarian, an animal doctor.”

  Mrs. Rickles laughed and the corners of her eyes crinkled up. “Oh! Silly me. I just assumed the military. If you’re a veterinarian, why are you working at a coffee shop?”

  Fiona smiled into her cup. Mrs. Rickles was being direct, as usual.

  Meg didn’t seem to mind. “I was helping the owners while they were out of town
. They’re friends.”

  “Your being a veterinarian explains the help with the kittens. I was wondering why Fiona would require help from a veteran,” Mrs. Rickles said before taking a sip of her tea. She looked amused. “I was thinking it was an unusual way to get into a woman’s pants.”

  Fiona almost spit out the tea. The expression on Meg’s face was priceless. She had no response, so she picked up a cookie and took a bite. “Delicious cookies.”

  65

  That was interesting. Meg cleared the table while Fiona walked Mrs. Rickles back to her apartment. Her face burned again at the comment about getting into Fiona’s pants but she laughed. What a character!

  Meg’s cell phone vibrated in her pocket and Gilda Radner’s Let’s Talk Dirty to the Animals started to play. Aunt Claudia. She’d been meaning to call her to talk about extending her time in New York and going to work at the clinic later in the fall or maybe the first of the year. Everything was so new with Fiona, she didn’t know how to plan. She placed the dishes next to the sink and answered.

  “Aunt Claudia! How are you?” She relaxed against the counter.

  “Megsie! So glad you picked up. I half-expected you to be out exploring the city. The last time your uncle and I were in New York, we barely slept. Sightseeing every minute, eating everything in sight! We probably…” Meg listened for a couple of minutes as her aunt described her trip to NYC. Aunt Claudia always started conversations in the middle. Eventually, she took a breath. “Oh, listen to me! You asked how I’m doing. I’m doing well.”

  “And Uncle Samuel?”

  “Also doing well. Are you in the middle of anything, honey?” The rattle of pots and pans punctuated Aunt Claudia’s response. Uncle Samuel must be making breakfast, because everyone in the family knew Aunt Claudia couldn’t cook to save her life and Uncle Samuel rocked at French toast. “I wanted to know if you’ve settled on a date to be back in Washington. No pressure, or anything, I’m just trying to get my schedule figured out.”