Delphine loved to lie between Cosima's legs after they made love. She wrapped arms wrapped around a thigh or draped one over the hip she wasn't using as a pillow. She curled herself into the warmth of the woman who's pleasure was now the source of her own. Moving her hand across her lover's body, she marveled at the silken skin; taught in places, stretched over bone or muscle; fluid in others; yielding with the softness underneath. The ordinary places of Cosima's body, the swell of her stomach, the curve of her ribs, the slight jut of her pelvis, captivated Delphine every bit as much as the rise and crescendo of her arousal. From across crowded rooms or entire pastures, Delphine often fantasized about the next time Cosima would be hers.
She barely recognized herself in the weeks since arriving in Reno, and yet somehow here… stirred and longing (always longing)… she felt more herself than she ever had, and never more so than when she allowed herself to relish the sensations of her skin against Cosima's. She tried in the in between times –when they were mending fences, or mucking stalls, or sitting down to meals– to conjure memories that might mollify her distracted mind, but recollection only ever seemed to amplify her ache rather than appease it.
Their love had weight, which thought could never quite distill into substance, so she lingered. Over all of it.
The first touches: Cosima's wetness inviting her; pulling her closer, deeper. She moved slowly outside and in. Intentionally. Hoping her deliberateness gave Cosima half the pleasure it gave her. When she kissed Cosima there, she lingered over the swelling under her tongue, savoring the responses she could elicit by massaging here or there. And when Cosima would gasp, oh my god. Delphine would feel her own arousal spread through her groin. She lingered during Cosima's climax, keeping her hands, or mouth, or both stubbornly in place as the contractions came, regular at first, and as the pulsing became more erratic she would move again slowly, slightly; enticing the last bits of pleasure from Cosima's spent body with a well timed stroke against shuddering flesh. And, of course, she lingered over the afterwards. Later her fingertips, her palms, nerve endings deep in her wrists that she didn't even know she possessed would ache for satisfaction and, absent of Cosima's actual presence, her wanting would remain, so she lingered, focused only on feeling.
The weeks since their fight had passed with out further incident. Cosima acquiesced that her rush to transfer had been as much grounded in fear as it had in passion; she continued to make inquiries about the feasibility of a change, while recognizing that it might be in her best interest to simply finish what she had started and follow her heart when the timing was right. Delphine set aside time to condense her thesis into a manuscript suitable for publication and had mailed it to her new advisor for final feedback. During the day, they fell into the easy rhythm of ranch life and at nights, more often than not, fell into the rhythm of love.
Siobhan had become accustomed to her daughter disappearing after coffee; she and Delphine often retreated to the privacy of the Riverside apartment, preferring a pre-dawn drive to the incessant, if endearing, harassment heaped upon them by Donnie and Paul, whose archness was ever inspired by the ardent declarations of love that rang through the hallways on evenings the women elected to stay.
"We won't be back until lunchtime tomorrow, S." Cosima reminded her mother, as she scrubbed up.
"Yes," Delphine added, clearing away the remaining dishes, "Mr. Leekie requires a meeting the week before the proceeding, to make sure everything is in order." Siobhan dried the tongs she used to turn the fried chicken and nodded in recognition.
"Take your time," she reassured them, stepping toward the range. "it's customary, I think." She returned the tongs to their place hanging on a board above the stove. "I've never asked before, but what is the going cost of a divorce these days?" She took the wet cast iron skillet from her daughter's hand.
"S!" Cosima cautioned with her tone.
"It's fine," Delphine shook her head dismissing Cosima's concern, "Aldous Leekie charges a flat rate of 75 dollars; my attorney in Boston assured me it was the prevailing rate." She crossed to the sink, slipping her arm around Cosima's waist as she slipped the dishes into the soapy water.
"Sweet Jesus! It's highway robbery!" Siobhan exclaimed, working her towel over the black and seasoned pan; she swept around the inside, then stopped, inspected it more closely, and frowned. "Cosima, am I supposed to wipe off what you don't wash off?" she chided. Delphine kissed Cosima, who rolled her eyes and retrieved the still greasy skillet from her mother, on the cheek then turned to fetch the glasses from the table, as Siobhan continued. "Seventy five dollars for three hours of work? It took me three months to save that much while I was cocktailing." Cosima handed back the skillet.
"Is that better?"
Siobhan inspected it; satisfied, she replied, "Much."
"Well," Delphine responded, "if I could have known how it would all turn out, I'd have paid three times as much. Or rather," she added impishly, "I would have let my father-in-law pay three times as much..." then winked at Siobhan knowingly, who laughed out loud.
"Amen to that, child." Siobhan celebrated Delphine's happiness as much as her daughter's, but made sure to add, "In most cases though, it seems like taking advantage of a person at her lowest."
"I wonder how much it would have been worth to Old Man Bowles if you'd fallen for me in Massachusetts?" Cosima mused, as she rinsed the plates and stacked them for Siobhan to dry. "You know, if I'd met you on the El instead of a cross country steamer."
Delphine could not help but gasp. "No, no, no, no, no, no. Bowles men don't get left, and they certainly don't get left for …what was the phrase" she struggled to recall the words that had so arrested her mind in the hotel lobby, "oh yes… a love-starved temptress."
Cosima laughed out loud, then she stopped abruptly and barked a playfully incredulous "Hey!" She dried her hands on the towel Siobhan was still holding and marched over to Delphine stopping only centimeters from the other woman. She waggled an accusatory finger and chastised "Who are you calling love-starved?!"
Delphine couldn't help but smile at Cosima's affected indignation.
"You," Delphine smiled and practically hummed back, wrapping Cosima up in her arms and kissing her softly, "You, my little temptress."
Siobhan made a point of not looking, and though she kept her face turned down toward her chores, her smile was plain even from her profile.
"Juh-tem, Sherrie; Bessie mwah." came a loud call from across the family room. Paul, who had been reading the paper, could not help but have his share in the fun.
Cosima pulled her lips away from Delphine's and fired back. "How you mange to make French sound like the language of imbeciles is beyond me." He paused briefly before responding, matter-of-factly.
"It's a gift," he claimed, "and only one of many the good Lord blessed me with."
"Right," Cosima said, their banter broke the veil of intimacy the women had not meant to drop between themselves and the rest of their company.
"Delphine, don't you listen to her." he called, "I have talents most men can only dream of possessing!"
"C'est vrai?" Delphine chuckled, releasing Cosima and turning to face her blustering brother.
"Wee, say absolutely vray. And they aren't even all with the ladies." Delphine's eyes shot wide at his assertion, and Cosima mumbled something skeptically under her breath.
"He does make a very good chocolate soufflé," Siobhan interjected, quite sincerely,
"Mmmmmm." Delphine's eye softened again as she moaned. "Je meurs d'envie de manger un soufflé au chocolat. Paul, s'il te plait, make one; next Thursday. We can celebrate the sullying of my reputation."
"After my soufflé, your reputation won't be the only thing sullied!" he cajoled, standing up he crossed to the kitchen and paused next to his sister. "Look out, monkey; my culinary prowess is gonna be the thing that wins Ms. Cormier's heart away from you!"
"You think so, huh?" his sister mused. "Go ahead, try."
"I do and I will, with flair." He grinned playfully, stepping toward her. "Delphine, keep an open mind!" he winked.
"Possibly." Delphine replied, stepping closer to him and whispering into his right ear, "but you should know, Paul, that your sister also has many gifts, especially when it comes to the ladies."
An amused smirk crept across his face as she spoke; he shook his head and chuckled under his breath, admiringly; then turned to his sister, "you better not let her get away." And with that he made his exit out into the night.
It wasn't long after Paul's departure that Delphine and Cosima made theirs as well. They each kissed Siobhan on the cheek, leaving her to figure some bills, then stepped across the yard to say goodnight to Donnie and Alison who were cozied together on the porch of the guesthouse.
Delphine made her intentions toward Cosima's body clear as the car slipped in and out of the shadows between street lamps; she ran her hand across Cosima's shoulders and chest before dropping it to cover her breast. She squeezed, then leaned in and kissed Cosima's neck. Finally, letting her hand settle softly on Cosima's thigh, her head on her shoulder. As they drew closer to the Riverside, Cosima felt Delphine inhale deep and long, then heard the breathy release of a yawn.
"So we'll sleep when we get back then." she teased. Delphine grinned; she drew her fingers, which had trifled with the inseam of Cosima's dungarees, to its apex and pressed against the warmth there.
"No." Delphine answered, "not until I've had you." Cosima's body betrayed any reserve she might have pretended to employ in the face of Delphine's words of wanting. Her hips pressed forward as her breath caught in her throat. Delphine moaned at the heat evident even through the layers of denim cotton.
Cosima had become accustomed to and delighted in the gentle affection the other woman showed her body after their lovemaking. More than once, in the first days of their relationship, she wondered if Delphine had fallen asleep using her leg or stomach as a pillow, but it was only ever she who drifted off as they lay together. Now, she knew the rhythm of Delphine's breath and how it became deeper and longer as sleep took her. Tonight they both lay awake. Tonight, Delphine's head rested inside her left hip; Delphine's fingers and palm trailed paths over her stomach, hips and thighs; Cosima could feel the light feathering of breath across her lower abdomen.
"What are you thinking about?" Cosima wondered out loud, reaching down to take Delphine's wandering hand in her own.
She felt Delphine smile before she answered, "Aldous Leekie." she replied, mischievously, clutching Cosima's hand tighter as she relished her own audacity.
Laughter bubbled up through Cosima's spent torso; "I have to admit, that is quite possibly the last thing I expected to hear you say." She wrapped her foot around and between Delphine's legs and pressed them together. "He's a little old for you, don't you think?" Delphine turned her eyes up to meet Cosima's.
"Perhaps, but I wasn't thinking about him as a sexual partner." she offered.
"Phew, I was worried for a minute." Delphine took her hand back and playfully slapped the side of Cosima's right buttock.
"You are cheeky." she remarked, "to say such things while I lay between your legs!"
"Hey, you brought him up, so I might argue that mine was not the first Cheeky Leekie comment." Cosima tossed out light heartedly, and then after a moment, "but seriously, what were you thinking?" Delphine's playfulness subsided with the seriousness of Cosima's tone; she threaded their fingers back together and settled her head back onto Cosima's stomach.
"I was thinking how impulsive it was of me to tell him you would be my witness, how presumptuous, and also how perfect and how devastating." Her recollection and her anticipation collided into a melee of swirling sentiment.
"Yeah," Cosima conceded, "it does feel a bit like I'm cutting off my nose to spite my face, to be the one who swears you've been here long enough to be able to leave."
"It must, chérie." she squeezed Cosima's hand. "and I dislike it so much, but also, there is no one I want there more than you."
"Yeah." Cosima agreed. "I know what you mean."
Delphine thought about the moments ahead of them, the separation, the uncertainty about Cosima's academic program and course of study. She thought about the day she arrived in Reno, on the train platform, feeling lost and foolish and too proud to accept help, and she thought about how much a part of something she finally felt, and how anxious she was to know the end of her own story. It was tempting to want to linger here as well, in Reno. To simply stay, and yet she knew, if nothing else after life with Phillip, that her work was important to her and doubtless, once they settled into the patterns of what ever came next, it would feel so again. Berkeley was close enough by train. She could make a few trips back before Cosima left for fall semester. She'd thought it all out, how to make the next six weeks less painful for Cosima, to ensure the woman knew that she was wanted, that she didn't need to make rash decisions or force choices. She turned her face into Cosima's body and kissed the juncture of her hip.
"You know," Cosima offered, "I could always tell the truth and force you to stay with me for six more weeks." Delphine's brow wrinkled in confusion for a moment until…
"Mon dieu!" Delphine cried. "Eagle Falls!"
She had completely forgotten that she had technically violated the law that would make her divorce possible. Delphine stirred from her place, no longer quite comfortable with not being able to look Cosima in the eye.
"What will you do, chérie, with all this power?"