Title: Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows
Author: Kimberly21570
Fandom: Guiding Light
Pairing: Olivia and Natalia
Disclaimer: The characters of Olivia and Emma Spencer, Natalia and Rafe Rivera, Josh and H.B. Lewis, Phillip, Alan, and Brandon Spaulding, Beth Raines, are owned by CBS/TeleNext and Proctor & Gamble. The characters of Lena Kundera and Bianca Montgomery are owned by All My Children, ABC/Disney.
The movie Steel Magnolias is the property of Rastar Films. SpongeBob is the joint property of Nicktoons Productions and United Plankton Pictures.
No copyright infringement intended with regard to Guiding Light, CBS/TeleNext, Proctor & Gamble, AMC, ABC/Disney, Rastar Films, Nicktoons Productions, or United Plankton Pictures, or any other entity. Dialogue in these scenes is original, with the exception of portions of the 7.27.2009 conversation between Olivia and Ava. Written for fun, not profit. All other standard disclaimers apply.
This chapter will be posted in multiple sections over the course of several weeks. It weaves back and forth between the past and the present, as Olivia, Natalia, and Emma prepare for their trip to Martha's Vineyard, and also during the flight on the Lewis Jet. Additionally, there are a couple of occasions where there are, in essence, flashbacks within flashbacks. As such, I have included dates, times, and locations in an attempt to organize the flow of the scenes, and hopefully, avoid confusion. If ever there is a section that doesn't make sense, please don't hesitate to ask.
Rating: Chapter 9.1 is rated R for sexual situations.
Hope you all enjoy the chapter…
Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows
Copyright May, 2009
"Honor isn't about making the right choices. It's about dealing with the consequences."
Anonymous
"Wisdom consists of the anticipation of consequences."
Norman Cousins
Chapter 9 – When Past and Present Collide:
(Subchapter: Anatomy of Change?)
What kind of future emerges, when past and present collide? Is it one that encompasses all the good, bad, and ugly from both worlds? Does the bad overpower the good, making the future unbearable? Or does it leave the bad behind, focusing instead on the good, and suffusing the future with wondrous possibility? These were the questions that weight heavy on both Olivia's and Natalia's minds, as the Lewis jet propelled them closer and closer to Olivia's collision with a past she had never wanted to leave behind—even as it put distance between Natalia and a past she could no longer escape, no matter how far away she ran.
And like casualties of war, they knew instinctively, that when such opposing forces collide, some relationships, even some lives, don't survive the impact…
Friday, April 24, 2009… Lewis Jet—3:15 p.m. Central Daylight Time
The Lewis Jet was a second-generation Boeing Business Jet 737-800, commonly known as a BBJ2, with a sleek exterior in silver and blue. With both upper and lower cabins, complete with separate formal dining areas, a master bedroom suite in the upper cabin and sizeable guest bedrooms on each level, as well as comfy living room/lounge areas, and two ultra luxury bathroom suites, the jet was fit for royalty. A set of glass-encased winding stairs paved the way between the two lounge areas, each of them equipped with state-of-the-art entertainment systems, including large flat-screen televisions, computer docks, sofas and matching overstuffed easy chairs in subtle shades of slate blue and gray. Glass-top coffee and end tables, and designer light fixtures complemented the natural ambiance, creating a sense of comfortable, elegance. Secretly, the oversized galley in the lower cabin was Olivia's favorite amenity. With space and facilities to prepare and serve five-star quality cuisine, in-flight, it was an Executive Chef's dream, and it made her long for the days when she had the luxury of time to do exactly that.
Natalia stood in rapt awe as they boarded the jet—she had never seen anything so luxurious. "Oh my goodness," she gasped, as her eyes darted around the lower cabin, taking it all in. "I've never seen anything like this! I never even knew something like this existed." Never would she have imagined such lavishness would exist on an airplane. She didn't want to know how much it cost.
"Oh, believe me, this is nothing, Sweetheart," Olivia said, casually. "Wait until you see Lena and Bianca's yacht."
"They have a yacht?" Natalia couldn't even fathom such a thing.
"It was a wedding gift from Bianca's mother," Olivia reported.
Natalia wondered who on earth Bianca's mother was that she could afford such opulence; but she didn't ask. At this point, she was almost afraid to know. She wandered around, exploring the aircraft, taking it all in. "I knew Josh was a wealthy guy, but I had no idea… I mean, he never puts on airs."
"No, Josh Lewis just isn't that kind of man," Olivia agreed. "He's a down-home kinda guy, who likes to shoot things and hang them on the walls." Her tone was light and affectionate, even as her face feigned dismay.
Natalia laughed softly. "That's sounds more like the man I know." Once Natalia no longer viewed Josh as a threat, they had spent the next couple of months getting to know one another, and actually became quite good friends; much to Olivia's relief.
"Yeah, he's never really cared about the money," Olivia asserted. "His daddy, H.B., made the family fortune in the oil business down in Oklahoma, and Josh worked with him for a while, but…"
Halting in her tracks, Natalia gulped, as the pieces finally fell into place. Her jaw went slack, as she stumbled for words. "The uh, yeah, the oil business?" She tried to wrap her head around it. "You mean Josh is like a… Lewis Oil, Lewis?" Her eyes were wide as saucers, as she emphasized the nature of the Lewis family business. In all the time she had spent getting to know him over the past two months, he had never mentioned a thing about Lewis Oil being his birthright.
Olivia chuckled softly. "Yes."
"Do you know anyone who isn't offensively rich?" Natalia sounded amused.
"Not really, no," Olivia said, drolly. Natalia knew there was some truth in her teasing.
"I suppose Lena and Bianca have a private jet too?"
They do," Olivia confirmed with a nod.
Natalia looked edgy. "Just exactly how rich are they?" she asked, warily. "What am I walking into here, Olivia? I need to know."
"They're rich beyond offensive, to be honest," Olivia answered, forthrightly. "But they're just as down-to-earth as Josh." She pulled Natalia close, gazing reassuringly into her eyes. "Relax, okay, Honey? I told you, they're wonderful people. You'll see. You're going to love them. And they—" she paused to punctuate her remark with a kiss, "are going to love you."
Natalia offered a weak smile, but before she could formulate a response, Lawrence, the Beacon's transportation director, made his way up the airstairs with a portion of their luggage. Ordinarily, he didn't handle chauffeur duties, but when Olivia and Emma were the passengers, he always handled the assignment personally.
The sound of Lawrence's voice pulled Natalia from her thoughts. "Where would you like your bags, Ms. Spencer?"
"You can stow them over in the lounge, Lawrence. The luggage compartment is below the stairs," she answered, pointing toward the aforementioned area. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, Ms. Spencer," Lawrence answered, politely. Pausing for a moment, his muscular arms weighted with bags, he peered down at Emma. "And Miss Emma, would you like your backpack with you, or would you like me to put it with your Mommy's and Ms. Rivera's things?"
"With me," Emma answered, cheerily. She gave him an excited smile. "Thank you, Mr. Jacobs."
Before he could respond, Emma took off like a shot; climbing the stairs to explore the upper cabin—she had already covered every inch of the lower level. Olivia and Natalia continued their exploration of the lower cabin while Lawrence loaded the remainder of their luggage onto the jet. And ten minutes later, at Emma's insistence, they climbed the stairs to the upper cabin, where they settled into the lounge area.
Friday, April 24, 2009… Lewis Jet—3:30 p.m. Central Daylight Time
All buckled in on the upper cabin, Olivia, Natalia, and Emma were finally on their way to Martha's Vineyard, for what promised to be a rather interesting visit—one fraught with unpredictability. Olivia look a long gulp from the wine glass in her hand, and Natalia took a deep breath, steadying herself, as Emma chattered excitedly about how much she loved flying—especially in Uncle Josh's jet, because it was big, like her Daddy's.
Olivia cringed at the very mention of Phillip and the reminder of her daughter's last visit to his jet. She had almost lost Emma that day; for what could have been forever. The memory of it still made her nauseous, even after all these years. She took another drink of her wine. Liquid courage would be the order of the day.
Phillip had been a model citizen since worming his way out of jail two months prior; but she still didn't trust him any further than she could throw him. Trust would take more time. It still pissed her off that he had allowed Emma to testify without her knowledge; and she was even more pissed off at Beth for arranging it. But Phillip had remained true to his word—he had not demanded visitation with Emma. Nor had he made any waves about their living arrangements.
At this point, it was clear that he knew the true nature of Olivia's relationship with Natalia. Hell, the whole damned town knew their business now—theirs, as well as Jen and Tracy's—all thanks to Diane Martin and her inexplicable need for revenge. Yet Phillip said nothing. And in fact, unbeknownst to Olivia, he had stopped Alan in his tracks when the elder Spaulding threatened to have Emma extricated from "that lecherous lifestyle her mother is living," as the old tyrant had phrased it, while berating Phillip for his lack of control over his own children. The threat had been issued forth as they shared an after-dinner brandy one evening. Such a civilized atmosphere for wielding that unique brand of Spaulding scorn. Once again, Brandon would be so proud…
Natalia's touch drew Olivia from her thoughts, as she offered a reassuring hand.
Olivia offered a faint smile, and leaned over, whispering against Natalia's ear. "I should be the one reassuring you. How are you feeling?"
Natalia smiled at the irony. "I'm fine, Honey. "Really. I'm not even nervous anymore," she assured. "I'm actually kind of excited now." She wanted to add a wry, "About meeting Lena and Bianca, anyway…" but she knew better. No reason to worry Olivia unnecessarily—she had far too much on her mind already.
Breathing a tentative sigh of relief, Olivia said, "I'm really glad, Sweetheart. I've been so worried about you today."
"Well, don't worry anymore. Okay? I'm better now," Natalia proclaimed. She kissed Olivia lightly, to prove her point. "No more jitters, or anything."
Olivia knew that the attempt at reassurance was about far more than their impending trip—but she didn't believe for a moment that Natalia was being completely truthful. Far too much had transpired for things to be that simple. In fact, she was quite certain that nothing would ever be simple for them again.
"I'm actually more concerned about you right now," Natalia was saying, as she yanked Olivia's wandering thoughts back to her again. "I know you have mixed feelings about everything that's happening. It's a lot to take in all at once."
"I don't have mixed feelings about you." Olivia's smile was crooked, but the sentiment was sincere. "Everything else will work itself out."
"Promise?" Natalia sought reassurance.
"Promise." Olivia sealed the proffered reassurance with a soft kiss. Their lives may never be simple again, but they would be together—come hell or high water, she silently vowed.
Captain John Kirkpatrick broke into Olivia's thoughts through the intercom. "Good afternoon, Ms. Spencer, Ms. Rivera, and again, welcome aboard the Lewis Corporate jet," he said, cheerily. He and his First Officer, Tom Watkins had first greeted them as they boarded, nearly thirty minutes prior.
"We're about to begin our taxi toward the runway. We're third in line for takeoff, and should be departing for Martha's Vineyard in approximately five minutes. Please be certain your seatbelts are securely fastened, and all personal items are stowed for safety purposes. You know the drill." They could hear the levity in his tone, and it made them smile.
Natalia glanced downward; making certain her seatbelt was fastened. A sofa with seatbelts—would wonders ever cease? Inwardly, she chuckled, as she settled in for their flight.
"We have relatively clear skies this afternoon, and our flight time is two hours, thirty five minutes, at thirty two thousand feet," he was saying. "We should reach cruising altitude approximately twenty five minutes into our flight, at which time I'll let you know it's safe to move about the cabin and use your portable electronic devices. The jet is equipped with Wi-Fi, so feel free to access the system. The password is located in the dropdown compartment near the table, or you may feel free to use the on-board terminals that are already logged on and connected to the router. If you need to call ahead to your destination, please use the in-flight telephone, rather than your cell phones. Again, we'll be departing in just a few moments. Have a nice afternoon, Ladies, and enjoy the flight. We'll see you on the Vineyard…"
After the Captain announced their impending take-off, Olivia reached over, taking Natalia's hand into her own. Their fingers intertwined, as if by instinct, and she did a final check-in with both of her Girls.
Once she was assured they were fine, she allowed her body to relax—as much as it possibly could, that is, given the intensity of emotion she and Natalia had faced earlier that morning. It hadn't been pleasant—not by any means. But at least Natalia was sitting beside her, Olivia silently reasoned. And that was something to be celebrated, despite the fact that it did nothing to change their reality—they were still on opposite courses, despite their shared destination.
She squeezed Natalia's hand, and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Then, leaning back in her seat, she closed her eyes to ward off the tears. And as they began their taxi down the runway, Olivia's thoughts drifted back to simpler times…
As easily as days tumbled into weeks, so did Olivia and Natalia tumble more deeply into love—their worlds intertwining in every conceivable manner. Thursday night dates became a staple in their relationship; each one a perfect fusion of romance and fun, as their intimacy slowly deepened. And their daily routine was seasoned with simple surprises, as they learned more and more about each other's strengths and weaknesses, families and histories, and discovered shared hopes and dreams. They bickered often, as they were prone to do. And when they fought, they did so with great passion; but seldom with as much passion as the kisses that followed when they made things right again.
The smooth cadence of their interactions, both personally and professionally, only seemed to become more perfectly synthesized with the passage of time. The more confident Natalia grew in her professional life, the more secure she felt in Olivia's world. And the more Olivia learned about relaxing and letting her guard down, the more accepted she felt, and the more secure she became in Natalia's love. It was a slow progression—a delicate balancing act; but it was one they were performing together.
Their goodnight ritual, which had begun with a few brief, yet breathless kisses at Olivia's bedroom door, had slowly transitioned into languorous explorations of the heated warmth of mouths and the soft, sinuous flesh of faces, necks, shoulders and abdomens, as they lingered together, touching, kissing, until labored breaths turned to soft moans; and neither of them possessed the physical strength to remain standing.
Only then would Natalia whisper, "Goodnight, Gorgeous, I love you," and kiss her one final time, before sauntering down the hall to bed. It was delicious torture, this building anticipation, and neither of them would have traded it for the world.
On a few occasions, their goodnight kisses had led them into such a heady state that they ended up in Olivia's bed—touching, kissing, whispering, caressing, for what seemed like hours—ever so gradually approaching the point of no return; yet never quite crossing over. And though those times were maddening to Natalia on multiple levels, she tolerated, even encouraged them, in the hopes that Olivia would finally let go of her need for control, and just let things happen between them. But when it didn't, she stayed true to her word, never questioning why. She simply held Olivia close, waiting for her to fall asleep.
She would whisper to Olivia then, telling her how much she loved her, and then gingerly slip out of bed, padding down the hall to her own bedroom, where she quietly prayed for patience and understanding. Understanding, she had in spades; but her patience, at times, wore thin. It was her own fault, though, she repeatedly reminded herself. After all, it had been her suggestion that they not become more intimate, or even share a room, until their new furniture arrived. She had kicked herself in the figurative ass almost nightly for that particularly brilliant idea. But it was what it was, she lamented, and she was learning to deal; albeit grudgingly so.
One such occasion when they ended up in Olivia's bed was the night before their departure for the Vineyard—though the circumstances on that particular evening were a little different. After sharing a leisurely dinner at Company, they had spent the remainder of date night shopping for a few special items for their trip, including attire for a romantic dinner Olivia had planned for date night on the Vineyard.
Natalia had seemed a little off during dinner; distracted perhaps, Olivia thought. But when Olivia asked if she was all right, Natalia reassured her with a kiss that left her insides feeling like one fine hot mess. After that, their evening was picture-perfect in every possible way.
They played a little game while shopping; each of them selecting items that they thought the other would wear. Picking out articles of clothing for one another proved to be both entertaining and educational. And the results only confirmed what they already knew to be true: they knew one another's styles and tastes, probably better than they knew their own.
After much up-close and personal appraisal in the space of a shared dressing room, they each bought a pair of new jeans, and a few other articles of clothing that happened to catch their combined attention. At Olivia's insistence, because she knew it would be breezy and cool on the beach that time of year, they picked out matching warm-up suits, black with charcoal gray trim. And finally, for their date night on the island, Olivia scoped out a crisp white fitted cotton shirt with a stand-up collar and cuffed sleeves to wear with her favorite Armani suit. And Natalia found a gorgeous royal blue dress with a flowing skirt, fitted bodice, and plunging neckline, which she refused to allow Olivia to see ahead of time; much to the hotelier's chagrin.
With those purchases completed, they found a few new outfits and a couple of surprises for Emma, and picked out little gifts for Lena and Bianca's daughters, Jordan and Alex, before dropping by the Beacon so that Olivia could pull a few bottles of their best wine from her private collection—a thank-you gift for their hostesses.
Arriving home with their purchases, they thanked Jane for keeping Emma for the evening, and chatted with her for a bit. Then, after reminding her that they wouldn't need her again until the Monday after next, they bid her goodnight.
Olivia poured two glasses of one of their favorite reds—a smooth, sweet blend of Concord grape, black cherry, and plum, and met Natalia on the sofa. As she handed Natalia the glass, Olivia leaned over, kissing her.
"I thought you warned me not to get used this method of delivery," Natalia teased, as Olivia sat down beside her. She smiled over the rim of her glass, took a small sip of the wine, and set the glass on the table in front of them.
"What can I say?" Olivia grinned, and shrugged her shoulders. "You've manage to domesticate me. I even vacuumed the other day." She sounded rather proud of herself.
Natalia laughed. "Only because you knocked over the potted plant, trying to hide the fact that you were raiding the cookie jar again," she accused, good-humoredly.
Busted! "Damn," Olivia cursed.
An admonishing eyebrow arched. "Swear jar," Natalia retorted.
"I can't get away with anything around you," Olivia groused.
"Oh, I beg to differ, Ms. Spencer." Natalia's tone was low and husky, as she climbed on top of Olivia, straddling those well-toned thighs. Her fingers tangled in chestnut locks, pulling Olivia's gaze to meet her own. "At this point, I'm quite certain you could get away with just about anything," she murmured suggestively. And leaning down, she bestowed a slow, open-mouthed kiss upon those soft, pouty lips. They tasted like the wine, and Natalia licked at them, like a ravenous kitten after fresh milk.
Olivia groaned, and clutched the belt loops on Natalia's jeans, pulling her closer.
Natalia smiled against Olivia's lips, and kissed them again; this time, short and sweet. "We should probably finish packing," she suggested.
This time, Olivia's groan wasn't one of pleasure. "I hate packing," she grumped. "We should just go shopping again when we get there."
"Spoken like someone who obviously has too much money for her own good," Natalia teased, as she climbed off of Olivia's lap. She grabbed Olivia's hand and tugged her to her feet. "Come on, Miss Moneybags, our suitcases await."
Olivia laughed, and kissed Natalia lightly, before reaching down to retrieve their wine glasses. She took another sip from her half-empty glass, as she extended her other hand, offering Natalia her glass.
Natalia grinned, and moved back into Olivia's personal space. "You can have mine, too," she murmured, brushing her mouth across wine-kissed lips. "I like the way it tastes on you…"
Several enticing images raced through Olivia's mind, and she smirked. "Oh, yeah?" She emptied her glass, set it down on the table, and arched a suggestive eyebrow.
Natalia laughed and flung her arms around Olivia's neck. And Olivia plied her with playful, wine-flavored kisses all the way up the stairs.
After several hours of folding, bickering, kissing, chattering, unfolding, more bickering followed by more kissing, refolding, and finally packing, their bags were ready to go. Their pajama-clad bodies collapsed onto Olivia's bed. "I told you I hated packing," Olivia grumbled. "I can never decide what I'll want to wear while I'm gone, so it takes forever." She punched a pillow and stuffed it beneath her neck.
Lying on her side next to Olivia, Natalia propped her head against her hand. "Well, maybe if you'd clean out your closet, and get rid of half of what's in there…"
Olivia looked offended by the mere thought, and Natalia laughed.
"Seriously, Honey, you could open a designer thrift store with all the unnecessary shoes and clothing in that closet!" Natalia asserted. "Or you could just give them to me." Her dark eyes twinkled with the suggestion.
"Please," Olivia guffawed, "you would drown in them."
Natalia made a face at her—the one that said, "Yeah, right."
Olivia just laughed.
"Personally, I think I looked quite good in your jacket the day I pretended to be your assistant, and saved your sorry butt from Decker," Natalia smirked.
"Well, you certainly got my attention that day, I'll give you that."
Natalia arched an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"
A roguish grin teased at Olivia's lips. She touched Natalia's face with her fingertips. "It means I found you completely alluring, and I couldn't keep my eyes off of you," she confessed. "That's the first memory I have of feeling physically attracted to you. You literally exuded confidence; and honestly, it really turned me on."
Leaning over, Natalia brushed her mouth against Olivia's. "You weren't the only one distracted that day."
"Meaning?" Olivia's eyebrow arched this time.
"I couldn't keep my eyes off of you, either," Natalia confessed; shifting her body closer. "You were so beautiful, the way your hair framed your face," she whispered; their lips brushing together again. "I really liked that style. And the way that blouse…" She finished the observation with a low growl against Olivia's mouth, as she kissed her again.
"I can't believe you were attracted to me back then." Olivia couldn't stop the smirk that played on her lips.
Natalia's fingers tangled in chestnut locks. "I think I've always been attracted to you, Liv," she whispered. "I've always felt so drawn to you. I couldn't stay away. And I never understood why—until now."
"Sure could've fooled me, the way you were always getting pissed off at me," Olivia teased.
Natalia just gave her that look—the one that said "swear jar."
"What?" Olivia feigned protest. "We're in bed, so I can cuss if I want. You agreed to that caveat."
"And just when, exactly, did I agree to that?" Natalia challenged.
"When you didn't argue at dinner that night." Olivia smirked.
Natalia made a face at her. "Lack of argument is not the same as agreement."
"Well, it is in my book," Olivia bantered.
"Even if it was, I don't think this counts as being 'in bed'."
"Oh, yeah? What do we have to be doing to make it count?" Olivia asked, flirtingly.
Natalia grinned at her. "Stop teasing, and just kiss me." She leaned down, capturing Olivia's mouth.
"You're awfully demanding these days," Olivia said, laughing into their kiss.
"You love it, and you know it," Natalia playfully asserted.
"I do love it," Olivia willingly admitted. She propped herself up on her elbow, her eyes twinkling. "I'm excited about our trip." Her fingers tangled through raven tresses. "I can't wait for Lena and Bianca to meet you."
"I'm excited too," Natalia agreed. "But I'm also a little nervous about meeting them," she confessed, eyes focused on the burgundy duvet beneath them.
Olivia tipped Natalia's chin, catching her gaze. "There's nothing to be nervous about. I promise. They're wonderful people, and I know they're going to love you," she asserted. "Not as much as I do, of course, 'cause that's just not possible, but…"
The smile on Olivia's face helped Natalia relax. "You always know the right thing to say."
"I'm only speaking the truth. I love you, Natalia," she whispered, brushing their lips together again. "There aren't even words to say how much…"
"Sometimes words are overrated anyway," Natalia proclaimed, as she captured Olivia's mouth once again. And then no more words were spoken, as they lingered there together until exhaustion finally took them. And much to Olivia's delight, it was Natalia who fell asleep first that night, leaving Olivia the pleasure of holding her, to her heart's content…
Friday, April 24, 2009… The Farmhouse of Love—4:30 a.m. Central Daylight Time
Olivia awoke unusually early, too excited about their impending departure to sleep. A furtive grin tiptoed across her lips upon finding a scantily-clad Natalia still asleep in her arms; and she remembered with fondness, the entanglement that had led to their waking up in such a state.
Natalia's face was buried in the crook of Olivia's neck; her arm lazily draped across a taut abdomen, and one knee nestled between well-toned thighs. Olivia lay their quietly, basking in the closeness of Natalia's body, the warmth of her breath, as it wafted across her neck; and silently thanked God for another morning such as this. I Love waking up with you in my bed… she mused, as her lips brushed softly against Natalia's face, pouring out her love.
She ached in ways she had never known, for just the mere closeness of Natalia's body; and she purposed in that moment to convince the woman that it was time for this to become a permanent arrangement—despite the fact that their new bedroom suite had yet to arrive. Agreement, be damned.
The sensation of those soft lips on her brow caused Natalia to stir in her semi-conscious dreamland. "Olivia…" she breathed; brushing her lips across Olivia's neck. The light scent of Olivia's skin called to her, drawing her ever closer. She burrowed deeper into the body that intertwined with her own; causing a sharp intake of air, followed by a soft moan, to emanate from the hotelier's lips.
Olivia closed her eyes; breathing in the familiar essence of Natalia, as she lingered there for nearly half an hour, lost in thoughts of this woman who had somehow managed to flay open her soul, leaving her more vulnerable, and yet somehow more secure, than she had ever felt in her entire life.
She remembered the night of their second date—Natalia had arranged for a private celebration, since Olivia's birthday was that coming Saturday. Olivia tried to protest, saying that one of Natalia's home-cooked meals was celebration enough, and that Jane could keep Emma at the Beacon overnight to give them an evening alone. But Natalia insisted upon taking her out, arguing that she cooked for Olivia all the time, and that this evening needed to be special.
"Special" didn't even begin to cover the weekend that had ensued. Natalia made reservations at Les Nomades, home of Chicago's premiere French cuisine—Olivia's favorite—and they made the three-hour drive to Chicago on Thursday afternoon. As they walked, hand-in-hand, down East Ontario toward the main entrance to the restaurant, Olivia nearly choked when she realized where they were going, and she subtly let Natalia know that Les Nomades was outrageously expensive. But Natalia just laughed, saying, "Relax, Honey, I know, and it's okay. I'm raising your rent, so I can afford to date you."
Olivia laughed heartily, and kissed her passionately, right there in the middle of the sidewalk in downtown Chicago.
Entering the restaurant, they felt as though they were discovering their own quaint little Parisian hideaway, where they could steal away for an intimate evening together. Dinner was exquisite, with many of Olivia's favorite French epicurean delights, and they shared the most delectable bottle of wine at a cozy table in front of a roaring fireplace.
After dinner, they took a leisurely stroll down East Ontario Street to North Michigan Avenue where they window shopped; scoping out places for further exploration on Saturday, as they made their way toward North Rush Street. Their final destination for the evening was The Peninsula Chicago, where Natalia had taken a page from Olivia's playbook, and arranged a trade with the operating manager, for a suite for the weekend. She had grinned, almost devilishly, as she recalled Olivia's tutelage: "Find out what they want—the thing that will most satisfy them; and then attain it. Once they realize you have it in your possession, they won't refuse your request—no matter how outlandish it may be." She had punctuated her tutelage with one final comment, accompanied by a mischievous smirk, "And on a positive note, it sure beats blackmail."
Natalia told Olivia nothing except that they were going to Chicago for the weekend—she wanted to keep everything a surprise. Olivia offered to arrange for their accommodations, but Natalia assured her everything was already in place. Access to a luxury box suite at Wrigley Field for the Cubs home opener that spring was what it had taken to procure their room for the weekend. Natalia had followed Olivia's lesson plan to the letter, and it hadn't even been all that difficult.
Just a few phone calls to a handful of Olivia's contacts paved the way to Natalia having tickets in hand. And it was in that very moment, as Natalia held those tickets, that she realized how truly powerful Olivia Spencer really was, and how much influence her name held within the business community. With a satisfied smile on her face, Natalia called for their messenger service, and the tickets were promptly delivered to the general manager at The Peninsula Chicago within hours of her initial contact with the man's executive assistant.
Emma hadn't been any too happy to be left behind; but resourceful Natalia had struck again, in that regard. The promise of a reciprocal getaway weekend for Jen and Tracy had procured them babysitting through Sunday afternoon. And the promise of spending the weekend playing video games with Jacob and Dylan had quickly soothed Emma's ruffled feathers. Two birds; one stone. Damn, Natalia was good.
Olivia had been quite proud of Natalia's resourcefulness at every level, and after using Friday afternoon to tour one of the properties Beacon Enterprises had recently purchased in Chicago—a convenient way to write off the entire trip, of course—they shared a wonderful long weekend together.
After brunch at the Grand Lux Café on Saturday morning, they window shopped at the likes of Cartier and Tiffany & Company, and browsed their way through Guess, Nike Town, Ralph Lauren, Saks Fifth Avenue, Macy's, Neiman Marcus, Louis Vuitton, and the Apple Store; stopping every now and then to actually purchase and item or two.
Natalia even found that she was brazen enough to dare ducking into Victoria's Secret with Olivia. It was a first for her, and not surprisingly, she blushed profusely at some of the merchandise. And some of it she actually found appealing; much to Olivia's surprise and delight. A selective handful of items were purchased there, with the intent of saving them for future getaway weekends. And as they left the store, hand-in-hand, they were each equally pleased with their purchases.
They nibbled on samples at both Ghirardelli Chocolates and Godiva Chocolatier—because Natalia couldn't seem to get enough chocolate—and then they sauntered through Borders, picked up surprises for Emma at American Girl Place and the Disney Store, and shared a late lunch at Giordano's Pizza on North Rush Street, all the while talking, and making plans for the future.
Saturday evening, they enjoyed a relaxing couple's massage at the spa in the hotel, and then shared a romantic candlelight dinner in their suite, complete with cheesecake for dessert, to celebrate Olivia's birthday. After dinner, they snuggled in the king sized bed, and ordered a "grown-up" movie—the first either of them had seen in what felt like ages.
They laughed and cried their way through Steel Magnolias—an oldie, to be certain; but one Natalia had never seen. And when it was over, Natalia nuzzled against Olivia's cheek. "Happy Birthday, Olivia," she whispered. She brushed her lips against soft flesh. "I hope today was everything you ever wanted in a birthday."
Olivia smiled at her. "It was perfect, Sweetheart. Thank you." Delivered on a fettered breath, she followed up with a slow, meaningful kiss; her fingers tangling in the softness of Natalia's hair.
Sinking down into their bed, they lingered there together, enjoying the soft caress of hands, and mouths, and tongues, until the need for air became immediate, and they were forced to part. And then, nestling into Natalia's body, Olivia exhaled a long, contented sigh, as she wrapped a firm arm around Natalia's slender waist. They whispered breathy things about how beautiful life was at that moment, and how much they wanted it to stay that way forever. And finally, after sharing quiet declarations of their love, exhausted from a perfect day of simply being together, they fell asleep in the warmth of one another's embrace.
Friday, April 24, 2009… Lewis Jet—3:45 p.m. Central Daylight Time
Olivia took another sip of her wine, as she wondered if the plans they had made that weekend in Chicago would survive the journey they found themselves on now. As she glanced across the cabin, watching Natalia coloring with Emma, she wanted, more than anything, to believe that they would.
Standing up, she crossed the short distance to the table where they were sitting, and crouched down next to Natalia.
She reached out, gently tracing her fingertips along Natalia's cheek.
Natalia offered her a shy smile in response. "Hey, you," she quietly greeted, "what's up?"
"Nothing," Olivia said, casually. She smiled faintly, as jade eyes traced the soft contours of Natalia's face. "You're just so damned beautiful I can't keep my eyes off of you." Her words were spoken in a whisper, bathed in restrained tears.
Natalia blushed in response.
Olivia nuzzled against Natalia's ear. "I swear you're even more beautiful than you were when you woke up this morning," she whispered.
"Sweet-talker," Natalia murmured. She held back tears of her own.
"I love you, Natalia," Olivia whispered, softly. She brushed her lips against Natalia's ear. "No matter what happens, nothing will ever change that."
"I know…" Natalia sighed softly, and kissed Olivia tenderly. "I know…"
"Are you guys gonna be mushy like this around Auntie Lena and Auntie B?" Emma piped in. Her furrowed brow told them she wouldn't be any too pleased by an affirmative response.
They chuckled in unison. "Is there a reason why we shouldn't be mushy around them?" Olivia asked, curious as to the source of Emma's concern.
Emma bit her lip; blue-green eyes cast downward toward her coloring book. "Well, what if they get angry, like Rafe?" Even two months later, the memory of his angry tone still resonated in the child's thoughts.
"Oh, Sweetie," Natalia whimpered empathically. She reached over, tipping Emma's chin. "That's not gonna happen. I promise."
"How do you know that?" Emma quizzed. The expression in her eyes said she was wary of believing Natalia's word.
"Because they're like us, Baby," Olivia explained. "They love each other, just like Natalia and I do."
"And they're married, too," Natalia added; thinking that would ease Emma's concerns.
"Married to each other?" Emma looked confused.
"Yes, Baby," Olivia confirmed. "They're married to each other."
Emma's eyebrow arched, making her look like her mother. "I thought you said two mommies couldn't get married," she challenged.
Olivia sighed. "Time for a Civics lesson, it seems," she chuckled. She stood from her crouched position, and sat in the chair next to Natalia. "See, Em, there are some States in our Country where two women or two men can get married, and Massachusetts, is one of them," she explained. "That's where Auntie Lena and Auntie B were married."
"But Illinois isn't?" Emma surmised with a pout.
"No, Sweetie, Illinois isn't," Natalia confirmed.
"Well, that's dumb," Emma declared; drawing a laugh from her two mommies. They loved the way she always cut to the chase.
"We agree, Em," Olivia said, forthrightly. "Sometimes laws are dumb; but until they're changed, we still have to follow them."
Well, they better change them before I get big," Emma announced, sounding as authoritarian as an eight-year-old possibly could. She switched to a purple crayon, and started coloring flowers on her page.
"Why's that, Em?" Natalia asked, curious.
Emma glanced up at Natalia, her face full of seriousness. "'Cause I told Mommy I was gonna marry a girl with curly dark hair and pretty brown eyes, just like you," she said, matter-of-factly. And with that, she returned to her purple posies.
Natalia looked up at Olivia, her eyes begging the question.
Olivia just grinned and leaned in, stealing a kiss. "Who am I to argue?" she shrugged.
She stood up from the table then, sauntering over to the bar to refill her wine glass. "Can I get you anything?" she offered, glancing back toward Natalia.
Natalia stood from the table, as well. "A glass of water would be nice," she requested, as she made her way to the sofa where she knew Olivia would join her. Private jets sure had their perks, she thought, as she sank down into luxurious comfort.
Olivia brought Emma a glass of juice, reminding her to be careful not to spill; and then joined Natalia on the plush sofa across the cabin. Handing her the glass of water, she settled in beside her; accepting a kiss as her thanks.
Snuggling close, Natalia asked, "What were you thinking about earlier? You were totally zoned when I got up to help Emma get her backpack out. You didn't even hear Captain Kirkpatrick announce that we had reached cruising altitude."
A simple sideways glance and that teasing smile set Natalia's mind at ease. "I was thinking about how nice it was to wake up with you this morning," Olivia confessed. "And how much I'd like for that to become a permanent arrangement."
"I would really like that, too, Liv," Natalia quietly admitted. "Maybe we could…" She hesitated for a moment before finishing, "rethink our agreement."
"Maybe we could…" Olivia said, wistfully. She leaned her head against Natalia's shoulder, as her thoughts drifted back to that morning, and waking up with Natalia in her arms…
Friday, April 24, 2009… The Farmhouse of Love—5:00 a.m. Central Daylight Time
As her thoughts drifted back from that weekend in Chicago, Olivia released a contented sigh. She had never enjoyed a birthday as much as that one—the first of many she would celebrate with Natalia. And though future celebrations would be equally as enjoyable, for different reasons, none would ever be as meaningful as the first.
It wasn't about the venue, or the food and wine, or even the fact that it was the first birthday she had celebrated with Natalia. It was about the fact that Natalia had listened to her; taken the time and effort to arrange things so meticulously, ensuring that all of Olivia's favorite things—like cheesecake—rather than some other type of confection, were included.
Glancing at her alarm clock, she decided it best to get up and do something productive. Slowly, meticulously, she extricated her torso and limbs from Natalia's ardent hold; but still, the woman stirred, murmuring quietly for her not to go. "Not yet, Honey…" she whined, in a half-conscious daze, as she reached out for Olivia. "So sleepy…" she mumbled; stirring restlessly in Olivia's bed.
Smiling softly, Olivia leaned over; catching the corner of Natalia's mouth with her own. "It's really early, Sweetheart. Sleep…" she quietly encouraged; gently tucking raven tresses behind Natalia's ear. "I'll get Emma ready, and be back later…"
Natalia groused, made another futile attempt to pull Olivia back into bed, and almost immediately fell back asleep.
Olivia considered the sleeping woman carefully—she had been tired and listless, of late; falling asleep earlier, and sleeping later in the morning. Concern flooded Olivia's usually composed features, as she remembered feeling and behaving in similar ways during the weeks just prior to the diagnosis of her heart condition. The similarities frightened her. Why are you so sluggish lately?, she silently wondered; fingers tenderly caressing Natalia's cheek.
And the exhaustion wasn't all—Natalia had been snappish and distracted, at times, as well, Olivia recalled. It simply wasn't like her. Perhaps she just needed some downtime, Olivia reasoned. They had been unbelievably busy at the Beacon, dealing with the Springfield and Chicago renovations, and the endless details for the proposed Indianapolis and St. Louis expansions. And Rafe had certainly been weighing on her mind. He had refused to see her for weeks after Natalia told him about their relationship. And when he finally did consent to a visit, he had been less than tolerant of her presence; acting like a petulant child, rather than a grown man. It frustrated Olivia, to be sure; but it had nearly broken Natalia's heart.
With all this in mind, Olivia made a mental note to keep watch over Natalia during their trip to the Vineyard, and if the usually vibrant woman wasn't more rested upon their return, she concluded that a visit to Dr. Rick might be in order.
Another light brush of her mouth against Natalia's lips, was followed by a softly whispered, "I love you," before Olivia climbed out of bed. She grinned to herself, as she checked the buttons on her pale blue satin pajama top; making certain all of them were fastened. And then her grin morphed into a roguish smirk at the fact there was a chance that they might be askew. Slipping into her matching satin robe, she tied the sash, as she stumbled out the bedroom door in search of her morning coffee.
Friday, April 24, 2009… Martha's Vineyard—6:00 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time
Yawning, Bianca pulled the sash of her robe tighter, as she shuffled into the kitchen. The aroma of brewing coffee told her that Lena wouldn't be far behind. Her wife always started the first pot before heading down to their favorite local fish market to see what their best catch was for the day. After experiencing the succulence of fresh seafood on the Vineyard, they rarely bothered with it back home in Pine Valley anymore. And so it was a treat for them during their visits to the cottage. Being the early-riser in the family, it was Lena who went to the market nearly every morning before Bianca and their girls were up for the day.
Crossing the ceramic tile floor, she was thankful that she remembered her slippers. She reached into the cabinet to the left of the sink, grabbing a coffee mug; then tapped her foot impatiently. The coffee simply wasn't brewing fast enough.
Rather than piddling away time, she set about getting the marinade ready for the filets they were having for dinner. The recipe she used called for the filets to marinate for three to four hours; but from experience, she knew they needed to soak at least twelve, if optimal flavor was to be achieved. Thus, she had minced the garlic cloves and fresh thyme the evening prior, in preparation for that morning. Now all that was left to be done was to mix those ingredients with the cayenne pepper, soy sauce, Worcestershire Sauce, olive oil, lemon juice, salt and cracked pepper, in appropriate proportions.
Once the ingredients were mixed, she set the marinade aside for a bit to allow the flavors to meld. And pouring her cup of coffee, she headed over to the kitchen table to relax until Lena came home.
When Lena arrived home twenty minutes later, she found Bianca casually working a crossword puzzle, as she enjoyed her morning coffee.
"Well, you don't smell like fish, so I'm assuming they didn't have anything to your liking this morning," Bianca teased, not looking up from her crossword book.
Lena kissed Bianca's cheek, sighed, and sank into the chair next to her. "No, they sure didn't," she said, sounding a bit forlorn. "I was hoping for some fresh tuna—you know, something light for lunch, since we're having beef tonight."
"That would've been nice," Bianca agreed. "Maybe tomorrow."
"Perhaps," Lena replied. Pushing back up from the table, she wandered to the other side of the kitchen in search of a glass.
"What's another word for a fragrant untruth?" Bianca chewed on the end of her pen.
Lena smirked. "Try bullshit."
Bianca grinned. "That's not exactly what I'd call fragrant," she teased. "Too many letters, anyway. Try again."
"How many letters do you need?"
"Seven."
Lena pondered for a moment. "How about rubbish? It's not exactly fragrant either, but…"
Glancing at the puzzle, Bianca's face lit up. "Perfect."
Grinning, Lena poured a glass of milk, and set the jug back in the refrigerator. "Need anything?" she asked, before returning to the table.
Lifting her coffee mug, Bianca glanced inside. "I could use with a refill," she said, nonchalantly.
Bringing the coffee carafe with her, Lena set her glass of milk on the table, and reached for Bianca's mug, filling it.
"Thank you, Baby," Bianca said, appreciatively.
"You're welcome," Lena replied, returning the carafe to the warmer. "What would you like for breakfast this morning?"
Bianca glanced up from her puzzle. "You cooked yesterday, Babe," she reminded. "I'll take care of it this morning."
"Are you sure?" Lena checked in. "You're making tonight's dinner."
"We'll end up sharing the work," Bianca said, knowingly.
"True," Lena conceded. She sat back down at the table, taking a drink of the milk.
"I thought I'd make pancakes," Bianca announced, as she scribbled another word into her puzzle. "Does that sound okay?"
"Banana pancakes?" Lena grinned like a kid.
Bianca laughed. "You're as bad as your daughters."
"What?" Lena feigned protest. "Bananas are good for us."
"And so is your milk," Bianca countered. "Now drink up."
Lena grinned. "Yes, Ma'am." She downed half the glass; leaving the faintest trace of a milk mustache.
"Good stuff?" Bianca said, teasingly.
Setting the half-empty glass on the table, Lena reached for Bianca's hand. "Come 'ere," she coaxed; tugging on her wife's arm.
Setting her book and pen on the table, willingly, Bianca went to her. The mischievous flash in Lena's dark eyes told her she was up to no good. Climbing into Lena's lap, she straddled her thighs. "Yes?" she husked; one eyebrow arched.
"Well, you know they say milk does a body good," Lena said, her voice low and teasing, as her hands slid stealthily up Bianca's silky thighs. "And I can't say that I argue with that…"
"But…?" Bianca waited for the finish.
"But that bottled stuff just doesn't cut it," Lena asserted, as her mouth trailed along Bianca's neck, toward her ear.
"It doesn't?" Bianca gasped softly, when Lena nipped at her earlobe.
"Huh-uh," Lena murmured, kissing that ear. "Fresh tastes best, and… you know I've always preferred yours," she whispered, seductively.
Bianca groaned. Lena always knew exactly what to say to get her going. "Where's the chocolate syrup when we need it?"
Though she knew Bianca wasn't teasing, Lena couldn't help but laugh just a little, as she remembered the first time Bianca brought a bottle of chocolate syrup into their bedroom. It had been her means of helping Lena get over her aversion to the presence of breast milk after Jordan was born. There was no way Lena would have willingly given up pleasuring Bianca's breasts when they made love—that was one of Lena's favorite parts. But breast milk made her a little edgy at first. Thankfully, though, Bianca's creativity had proven successful—her idea worked like a charm, and it quickly became something they both very much enjoyed.
"I'll pick some up at the store this afternoon," Lena decided on a whim.
Taking Lena's face into her hands, Bianca's eyes flashed with desire. "Make sure you do."
Lena smirked, and kissed her. "I love it when you get bossy."
Bianca kissed her again. "I'll keep that in mind," she said, arching a seductive eyebrow. "But for the time being," she added with a sigh, "I need to get things going in the kitchen."
"Want some help?" Lena offered, as Bianca climbed out of her lap.
"No, thanks," Bianca answered. "But if you could check on the guest room; make sure there are plenty of blankets and towels?" She paused for a moment, thinking. "Oh, and pull another blanket from the girls' closet for Emma. I'm gonna put her in with them, but you know how Jordan is about sharing the quilt Mama made for her."
"Of course," Lena easily assented, as she stood from the chair. "Anything else?" She emptied the glass of milk, and walked to the sink to rinse it out.
"Nothing until the girls get up," Bianca answered. She pulled the package of filets out of the refrigerator. "Breakfast at nine?"
"Sounds perfect, Sweetheart," Lena replied, placing the glass in the dishwasher. "Thank you." She leaned over, kissing Bianca lightly. "I'll be back around seven."
Another quick kiss, and then Lena was out the back door. Bianca didn't ask where she was going. She already knew a jog on the beach was next on her wife's morning agenda. Placing the filets in the glass baking dish, she gingerly poured the marinade over the cuts of fresh beef; making sure that the liquid coated the meat on both sides and the edges. Then, setting the dish back in the refrigerator, she returned to her now lukewarm coffee and half-finished crossword.
Friday, April 24, 2009… The Farmhouse of Love—6:15 a.m. Central Daylight Time
Olivia couldn't wipe the sappy smile off of her face as she sat there in their kitchen, stirring her third cup of decaf. One day, perhaps, she would tell Natalia she knew the truth; but for now, she enjoyed watching Natalia savor her little secret. She enjoyed watching Natalia savor so many things—like the rich, full bodied flavor or the unique bouquet of a new wine, the textures and flavors of exotic cuisine, the softness of Olivia's skin beneath her fingertips, or the inherent intimacy of a slow, sensual kiss. Watching Natalia savor such things brought such joy to Olivia; but mostly, she enjoyed just simply being with her.
Even grocery shopping—something Olivia loathed, was fun, when shared with Natalia. And somehow, Olivia wouldn't doubt her ability to make even a root canal more enjoyable. They laughed together. A lot. No matter what they were doing. And they talked about everything—no secrets, no agendas. Just them, and their children.
The thought of their children sent Olivia back in time to the weekend she spent in San Francisco with Ava, helping her move into her new place—the weekend she told her eldest daughter about her relationship with Natalia…
Saturday, March 14, 2009… San Francisco, California—7:00 p.m. Pacific Standard Time
Lounging on the sofa in the new place, Olivia and Ava were sharing a pizza with all of the trimmings, and a bottle of Ava's favorite Napa Valley red. A low moan escaped Olivia's lungs, as she savored the combination of sausage, pepperoni, and breakfast bacon. "Oh, my god, this is just so fucking good! Natalia won't let me have anything like this at home." Outwardly, she groused, but inwardly, she loved the way Natalia fussed and took care of her.
An eyebrow peaked. "Natalia won't let you?" Ava's tone begged the question why Natalia was dictating Olivia's eating habits.
"She makes me eat pizza with chicken and pineapple," Olivia pouted. "That is, when she lets me have pizza at all."
Both women scrunched up their noses, and moaned out an "Eww…"
They laughed together then, and Ava playfully poked her mother's side with her big toe. "So what gives, Mom? Fess up," she prodded. "You never let anyone dictate to you, so why is Natalia's opinion so important? Is it because of Gus's heart?"
Olivia bit her upper lip, and leaned forward, setting her plate on the coffee table. She took a deep breath, releasing it slowly, and then she reached over, taking Ava's hand. "There's something I need to tell you," she began, tentatively.
Sensing the gravity of her mother's tone, Ava leaned over, setting her wine glass on the table next to the half-empty pizza box. Eyes locked, she moved closer, firmly grasping both of Olivia's hands. "What is it, Mom?" she asked, her dark eyes flooding with tears. "Are you sick again?"
"Oh, God, Baby, No!" Olivia quickly reassured. "No, no, it's nothing like that." She pulled Ava close, hugging her tightly.
"Then what it is?" Ava asked, a deep sense of relief flooding over her. She hugged her mother fiercely, then released her; waiting for a response.
Olivia offered a tentative smile. "It was a really hard year last year. A lot of loss—with Gus, and the baby, and Coop…"
Ava choked back tears. Despite the passage of time, she still had not recovered from losing her son, Max. "It's been overwhelming," she admitted, her voice breaking from the pain.
"I know," Olivia gently soothed. She reached out, tweaking Ava's chin affectionately. "I know…" She paused for a moment, searching Ava's eyes. "And I don't know how I could've gotten through it without Natalia," she confessed. "She-she-she saved me."
"I know. She gave you Gus's heart." Ava's tone spoke volumes about the gratitude she felt for Natalia's gift.
"She gave me more than that," Olivia said, forthrightly. "She-she nursed me… back to health, and she stood by me when I probably didn't deserve it, and um… made me realize how precious life is. And she… she taught me how to love."
A slow smile moved across Ava's face as she watched the swirl of emotions dancing in her mother's eyes. "She's a very special woman," she said, fighting back tears.
"Yes, she is," Olivia quietly acknowledged. "And that… that's one of the many reasons why I…" She took another deep breath, steadying her nerves. "Why I fell in love with her."
"You-you-uh, you love… you love Natalia?" Ava looked bewildered.
"More than I've ever loved anyone in my life." The depth of that love reflected in jade eyes that danced with emotion, as it radiated from Olivia's voice.
Completely taken aback, Ava looked as though someone had just given her some bad cough medicine, as she processed the information. Olivia stiffened, fearing the worst; but Ava surprised her. "I think that's wonderful," she practically gushed. A delighted smile spread across her lips. "And I'm really happy for you," she said, collecting her mother in her arms. "God, Mom, I'm so happy for you."
"Thank you, Baby," Olivia barely choked out, as she clung to her eldest daughter. Given the acrimonious response they received from Rafe, Olivia knew all too well that she could lose Ava the same way. And the fact that her daughter had been so immediately accepting meant more to her than Ava would ever understand. "Oh, God, thank you," she said.
Olivia's words sounded oddly like a prayer, and that fact was not lost on Ava. "She has you praying now?" she teased.
Laughter bubbled from Olivia's chest, as she released her hold on Ava. She smiled through tears. "She pretty much has me wrapped around her little finger," she confessed. "And I'm not complaining. Not in the least."
Ava reached out, gently wiping her mother's tears. "I knew there was something different about you. I've known it for a while," she revealed. "Even before I visited at Christmas, I could tell. You bristled and you postured when you talked about Natalia, but I heard it in your voice. You were happy—and Natalia was the reason."
"I've loved her for a very long time, Honey," Olivia admitted. "So long, in fact, that I can't remember a time when I didn't."
"I knew you loved her," Ava said, softly. "I just didn't realize it was the romantic kind of love."
"And you're really okay with that?" Olivia asked, tentatively. "It doesn't bother you—the whole same-sex thing?"
That eyebrow arched again, and Ava grinned. "I live in San Francisco, Mom," she reminded, as if that should explain it all. "It's like the Gay Mecca of the World!" she laughed. She reached for Olivia's hands again, as her tone softened, "But regardless of where I live, or anything else for that matter, I would still be okay with you and Natalia. You're my Mom, and I love you. And all I really want is for you to be happy. If Natalia brings you the happiness you deserve, then I'll love her too."
"You'll never know how much that means to me," Olivia said, sincerely. She lifted one of Ava's hands, kissing it tenderly.
Ava asked her then, about how their relationship began, and they snuggled together on the sofa, as Olivia told her the entire story from start to finish. Olivia cherished every moment of their time together, the way she did such moments with Emma. There were moments of laughter, and moments of tears, and moments of laughter through tears. And Ava had to laugh when Olivia told her about date night. "So that's why you couldn't fly out here on Thursday," she teased. "You had a hot date with your Latina lover!"
Olivia blushed at the comment. "She's not exactly my lover just yet," she sheepishly confessed.
Ava laughed softly. "What? Why not?"
"Because everything is different with Natalia," Olivia said, softly. "I want everything to be different with her. I want this to last, Ava. I want forever with her. So I have to be a better person than I've been in the past. I need to be the person she deserves."
"The fact that you recognize that, tells me you already are, Mom," Ava gently proclaimed. "You just need to learn to see yourself the way we see you."
They talked long into the night, about everything and nothing; no minute detail left unattended. And by the time the story came to the end, they had finished the bottle of wine and emptied nearly an entire box of Kleenex.
Ava offered her mother a teary-eyed smile, as she reached out, gently tucking strands of chestnut behind Olivia's ear. "I'm so proud of you, Mom," she said, softly. "It takes a lot of courage to be open and honest about the things that scare us. And you've shown that courage over and over again throughout your life. But honestly, I think admitting your feelings for Natalia—not just to her, but to everyone in your lives who matter—took the most courage of all."
That trip had marked a defining moment in Olivia's relationship with Ava. It was the place where they came to understand one another not just as mother and child, but as women; fully equal, and completely accepting of one another as human beings. It was the place where they truly became friends.
And now Olivia faced another trip—one that would mark defining moments in her relationship with Natalia, as well as with the people who would become closest to them throughout their lives.
Pouring another cup of decaf, she sauntered into their living room with her newspaper, and settled in on the sofa; relaxing and enjoying the quiet. Today was gonna be a great day, she decided. A great day, indeed.
Friday, April 24, 2009… Martha's Vineyard—7:15 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time
Slowing her pace on approach, Lena took the stairs two at a time, effortlessly reaching the lower level of their back deck. Sandy, their five-year-old Cocker Spaniel, was close on her heels, as was always the case—except when the dog was with their daughter Jordan. Despite the fact that she had been a gift from Lena to Bianca on their first Valentine's together, the dog had bonded most with Lena and Jordan. They had just returned from their morning run on the beach, and they were both in need of a cool-down.
Wagging her tail, Sandy barked, and circled Lena's feet, causing her to laugh. "Okay, okay! Hold on a minute, Girl," she chucked, clearly amused. She knew exactly what the impatient little canine wanted.
Grabbing a towel from the wooden cabinet near the Jacuzzi, she wiped the perspiration from her face, arms, and chest. She dropped the towel on a nearby chair, exchanging it for the bottle of water she had left there when she began her run. A long drink of the cool water momentarily satisfied her, and then she stooped down, tipping the bottle to give Sandy a drink. The dog lapped at the rim of the bottle with practiced ease, emptying it with surprisingly little spillage.
Lena playfully tousled the dog's sandy-blonde fur. "Good girl," she praised.
Sandy barked her response, as Lena recapped the empty bottle, and set it back on the chair.
Breathing deeply then, Lena meticulously stretched out her core muscle groups—thighs and calves, abdominals, then back. Her arms, shoulders, and chest muscles followed in succession, as she cooled down each area of her body with measured ease. She had it down to a science—twenty minutes, to be exact. And then she was slipping one of Bianca's PVU sweatshirts over her head—keeping her muscles warm was crucial to preventing soreness.
She retrieved the towel and empty bottle of water, and headed up the stairs to the mid-level deck; once again, with Sandy on her heels.
Spotting her pink football, Sandy tore across the deck. She snatched it up, quickly bringing it back to Lena. Dropping the prized possession at Lena's feet, she nudged it with her nose, and barked twice—Lena's cue to throw the ball.
Lena bent down, retrieved the ball, and hurled it across the deck. It squeaked out a moan as it made contact with the surface; then bounced several times. It was still in motion when Sandy grabbed it, and before Lena even made it up the stairs to the top level, the football had been deposited at her feet once again.
A nudge, followed by two barks, announced that Sandy wasn't finished playing yet.
Laughing, Lena bent down again. "Do you ever wear out?" The fondness in her tone was unmistakable.
Another bark marked Sandy's response, as her feet shifted back and forth in eager anticipation.
"Zostan," Lena commanded in Polish, ordering the dog to stay until given another command.
Obediently, Sandy dropped on her haunches, watching Lena with measured interest.
Lena tossed the ball again, and dropped her gaze to the dog. Her noticeable eagerness was not lost on Lena, and she was proud of Sandy's restraint. "Biegaj," she said, granting permission for Sandy to break her stay, and retrieve the prized possession.
Sandy took off like a shot.
Turning around, Lena unlatched the gate, and stepped up onto the upper level of the deck. Sauntering across the deck, she couldn't help but smile—on the table next to her chair, a travel mug full of piping hot coffee and that morning's edition of The Wall Street Journal awaited her. Her wife was far too good at spoiling her. Each of them on her own was wealthy enough to afford just about anything a person could want or even imagine. And with their wealth combined, it was beyond offensive. But lavish gifts and opulent settings meant nothing in comparison to the little things—like finding her morning coffee and copy of The Journal, waiting for her after a run. Not that they didn't appreciate their wealth. They did—and in fact, they felt quite blessed by it. But the little things said, "I love you," far better than any material possession ever could, and so those were the things that meant the most to them.
She dropped the empty water bottle in the recycle bin, and tossed her towel over the back of her chair. Settling in her chair, she leaned back, casually crossing her legs, as she reached for the mug of coffee. Breathing it in, she savored the aroma of pure vanilla and roasted hazelnut, as appreciative eyes scanned the expanse of their deck—a wedding gift from Bianca.
The multi-level Honduran Mahogany deck ran the entire length of their cottage, twisting and turning in sharp angles; creating the illusion of depth, even in areas where the surface remained flat. Six matching mahogany Adirondack chairs were strategically placed in the center of the upper deck, surrounding the custom-built fire pit. Rectangular in shape, the pit was constructed of New England Fieldstone Mosaic, with blue ice glass granules; creating the paradoxical illusion of "fire and ice," as the flames danced in the ocean breeze.
On the far end of the upper deck, just outside the door exiting off the family room, which was located right next to the kitchen, there was a custom-built outdoor grill that perfectly complimented the fire pit. The grill had been constructed to accommodate charcoal or wood fires rather than gas, as Lena preferred not only the method of grilling, but also the aroma of the crackling fire and flavor of the food from what she termed a "real" grill.
Lining the outer edges of the upper deck were built-in mahogany benches, providing an abundance of casual seating options for guests. And finally, in the evenings, old-fashioned gas lanterns infused the atmosphere with soft, flowing light, and a warm, inviting ambiance.
Beyond the latched gate, two sets of angled steps twisted around; one leading to a mid-level deck that sprawled out across the sand toward the ocean, and the other down to the lowest level where the intimate Jacuzzi was nestled in a cozy alcove.
The lower-level deck set flush against one side of the Jacuzzi, allowing direct entrance to the water, while the remaining three sides were open, revealing that the tub itself was encased in New England Fieldstone, matching the masonry on the upper-level decks. The entire area was shrouded under a pergola, with English ivy twisting and intertwining amongst the wooden pillars and crossbeams. A mixture of potted plants and flowers, including burgundy and white roses, pale pink azaleas, and kaleidoscope orchids, entwined with thick, green foliage, surrounding the area. And in the evenings, gas lanterns bathed the flowing water in a soft, flickering glow. The secluded location and well-chosen foliage created a truly private oasis, complete with a picturesque view of the beach; while stealthily cloaking the Jacuzzi from the intrusiveness of fellow beach dwellers.
A mischievous dimpled grin formed on her lips as she recalled their first dip in that Jacuzzi—their wedding night had been beyond spectacular. And much to her pleasure, their lovemaking had only gotten better from there.
Taking that first refreshing sip of coffee, Lena released a contented sigh. Life could not possibly be better.
The unmistakable sound of an excitedly wagging tail and two precise barks announced Sandy's return. The football squeaked as Sandy clutched it in her mouth. She pranced in eager anticipation. Lena set her mug down and bent forward, ruffling the soft fur on Sandy's head. "Enough for now, Girl," she said, declining the dog's request. "Waruj."
Sandy responded to the command by lying down beside Lena's chair. She dropped the football between her two front paws, and laid her head to one side with a sigh.
"Later, Girl," Lena promised, as she turned her attention to the morning financials.
Whiskery eyebrows shifted back and forth as Sandy eyed Lena, then the football, with curious interest. And then, satisfied that no further play would ensue, she closed her eyes to rest.
Friday, April 24, 2009… The Farmhouse of Love—7:30 a.m. Central Daylight Time
Having downed nearly a pot of coffee as she read through the business and finance sections of The Wall Street Journal, Olivia gave a cursory glance to the clock on the wall. She had gotten Emma up, dressed, fed and ready for school, and now wondered after Natalia, who had yet to make an appearance in their kitchen. It was still a bit early, by their normal Friday morning standards at least, but even on the all-too-infrequent mornings, when Olivia did manage to stumble out of bed early, Natalia was always awake long before her. The fact that she hadn't roused caused Olivia more than a bit of concern.
She folded the towel she had used to dry Emma's breakfast dishes, and emptied her coffee cup. Rinsing the cup in the sink, she set it aside to use during breakfast with Natalia.
Passing through the living room, she reminded Emma that they would need to leave for school soon. "Fifteen minutes, Em," she said, lightly kissing the top of her daughter's head. "It's a little chilly out this morning. You should probably wear your gray Nike jacket."
"I think Natalia packed it for our trip," Emma reported.
"Oh, that's right," Olivia faintly recalled. She had forgotten they decided to take that jacket, as opposed to Emma's windbreaker, because it was lined. "I'll get it for you after I wake Natalia."
"Yeah, thank you, Mommy," Emma replied, passively. Her attention was otherwise engaged.
Olivia shook her head and grinned. Leaving Emma engrossed in her favorite episode of SpongeBob, she climbed the stairs to check on Natalia.
Stealthily, she crept back into her bedroom, finding a soundly sleeping Natalia still tangled up in her 2,000-count Egyptian cotton sheets. God, you're even more stunning when you're asleep… she thought; smiling softly at the beautiful woman in her bed.
Slipping beneath the sheets, Olivia snuggled up behind her, nuzzling against her ear. "Hey, Sleepyhead…" she whispered; causing the slumbering woman to rouse slightly.
"Ooh, your feet are cold…" Natalia groused, groggily.
"Cold feet, warm heart," Olivia murmured. She kissed Natalia's ear lightly.
Rubbing her eyes, Natalia turned toward Olivia, gently pressing her hand against Olivia's heart. "Very warm," she whispered. She burrowed into Olivia's body once again. "What time is it?" she asked; nestling her face in Olivia's chest.
"Almost time for me to take Em to school," Olivia reported; fingers tunneling through raven tresses.
"Why are you taking her? Did she miss the bus?" Natalia inquired; still only half conscious. "I'm sorry, Honey. I should've been up to help you."
Olivia reached down, tipping Natalia's chin. "No, Sweetheart, she didn't miss the bus…" she replied; searching fog-laden eyes. "She has that huge presentation board to take this morning. Y'know—the one for her Social Studies project? We didn't want her to struggle with it on the bus. Remember?"
"Yeah…" Natalia replied, woozily. "I remember. I jus… I forgot what day it is. Guess I'm not quite awake yet." A yawn punctuated her assertion.
"Well, I hope you didn't forget too much about what today is…" Olivia smiled; attempting to rouse Natalia with the poke of a finger in her side.
Natalia giggled, her eyes meeting Olivia's. "Of course, I haven't forgotten about our trip," she smiled. "You kept me up half the night, packing. I never realized how much crap one woman could need for a week's vacation," she laughed; sliding up in Olivia's arms to kiss her.
"You are so not funny…" Olivia murmured against Natalia's lips.
"Then why are you smiling?"
Natalia's soft laugh warmed Olivia like the sunshine after a springtime rain shower. Gently rolling Natalia onto her back, she brushed their noses together. "I'm smiling because I love you," she whispered, kissing Natalia again.
"I could start and end every day with you saying that to me, and never get tired of hearing it," Natalia said, wistfully.
"Me too," Olivia agreed. "Though, I think hearing it in the evening would hold more meaning for me, personally."
"Why's that?" Natalia's face held a confused and curious expression.
"Because that would mean I made it through another whole day without screwing things up between us," Olivia answered, with a hint of humor in her tone. But Natalia knew there was something more to the comment.
The tips of Natalia's fingers brushed Olivia's cheek. "Even when you screw up, I'll still love you, Liv," she quietly reassured. "You don't have to be perfect, Honey. You just have to be perfect for me—and I love you exactly the way you are."
"Sweet-talker," Olivia playfully accused.
"Only with you." Natalia sealed her declaration with another kiss.
Friday, April 24, 2009… Lewis Jet—4:00 p.m. Central Daylight Time
The sweet memory of their morning made Olivia smile again, and she glanced at Natalia, who was snuggled up against her on the plane. Leaning toward her, she brushed her lips against Natalia's temple, as she pondered the ways in which their life had changed, virtually in the blink of an eye. Never in a million years would she have believed that within the span of a single hour, their world could be completely turned upside down. The fact that Natalia was sitting there beside her was a testament to the commitment they had made to one another that night outside the Beacon—a commitment to stay together, come what may…