A/N: So, it was brought to my attention that there are no straight people in my imaginary San Francisco. Well, there are now. But this is it. I'm drawing the line; no more! I'm moving there next year, and right up until the very last second, I fully intend to imagine it a rainbow paradise. With two straight people…Yeah, so here we go. Enjoy!
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"Sara? Is that you, darlin'? Well I'll be, if it ain't the craziest dyke in the West!"
I froze, nearly dropping the bikini-clad salt shakers I was studying. It was mid-afternoon and Sara and I were in a shop called 'Everything but the Cat.' I'd been here for ten minutes and still had no idea what they were meant to be selling. None of it seemed to have anything to do with cats. But then, maybe that was the point.
Sara had asked for the owner a while ago and, not wanting to live through another awkward introduction, I decided to look around. So far I had seen dragon kites, hand-painted Doc Martens, shelves upon shelves of assorted rubber duckies, miniature sculptures of Stonehenge, t-shirts that said things like 'Straight but not Narrow' or 'Embrace Diversity,' and there was a living breathing Dalmatian sleeping in one corner and wearing a rainbow shirt that read 'Stop BREEDING Intolerance.' And now I had yet to determine the purpose of spice holders in skimpy swimwear.
Not that any of that mattered now. I peaked around a shelving unit. Had I just heard…? Had a man just said…? No. No. Maybe there was another Sara?
A bear of a man was descending the stairs from the lofted second floor of the store and sweeping Sara up into a giant hug. He appeared to be the source of the booming voice from before, and when he spoke again my suspicions were confirmed.
"Now, where in the hell have you been keepin' that cute little bad ass of yours, Bird? Shoot, I don't think I've seen you since…"
"Since right after the wedding." Sara supplied.
The man's southern accent was considerably stronger than Nicky's. "Damn, that's right. That's got to be more than four years, huh? Hell, that means you haven't met all the kids, have you?"
Sara shook her head.
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number, "Maureen? Guess who's here? You'll never guess." He put an arm around Sara's shoulders. "I'll give you a hint- what do you get when you put two-hundred pounds of steelhead and yellow croaker and a stick of dynamite in Cherry Hixson's basement apartment?"
I watched Sara turn scarlet and look around, clearly trying to find me.
The man laughed heartily, "You bet your ass! No, I'm not shittin' ya baby, the amazing Flyin' Sidle is standin' next to me right now!" He winked at Sara who shook her head. "Well, that's what I was sayin' baby. Why don't you and Vicki come on down. Are the kids home from…?" Pause. "Okay, alright, see you in a minute. Love you, too." He hung up the phone.
I decided that this would be a good time for me to come out of my hiding place. If I waited much longer, things would be just plain awkward.
"They're on their way down. The nanny isn't picking up the kids for another hour. But-"
Sara interrupted, "Vicki's here? I thought she moved to Alaska with that guy, Trey, or something?"
Okay, freeze. I don't like that tone of voice. Who's Vicki? I retreated back behind the case again.
"Dray. She did, but you know her. Just a plain-old white hetero guy, not even an interesting fetish to his name; it don't matter how good his music is or how much he'd throw himself off a cliff for her. If it won't make her folks turn green about the gills, she don't want nothin' to do with it. So she's back here, living in the spare room upstairs. She has some sort of vision for an online fetish shop. We really thought she'd be out of this phase by now, you know? Twenty-eight years old, Berkeley graduate in French Literature; I don't care how many meat hooks she installs in my ceiling, and she can hold as many late-night shabari classes in the loft as she wants, I just want to see the girl stick with something for more than a day."
Sara smiled bitterly and tilted her head to one side, "That always was Vicki's problem, you know when we were…"
At that moment, the overly tolerant and fabulous in tie-dye Dalmatian chose to brush by me, and this time I did drop the salt shakers. Silently cursing, I bent down to pick them up and placed them back on the shelf. When I looked up again, Sara was only a few feet away and looking at me questioningly. I tried to make my smile seem like less of a guilty 'I didn't hear that much' smile and more of an 'oh, hello, fancy meeting you here' one, but I don't think I one-hundred percent pulled it off.
It didn't matter. Sara just shook her head at me and held out her hand, which I took. "Come on," she said, dragging me forward, "I want you to meet Joey."
When we arrived beside the giant man again, he was giving me an odd look. He was about my age, sturdily built, with a shaved head and watery blue eyes.
"Joe, this is my good friend, Catherine Willows. Cath, this is Joey Faye. He and his wife Maureen are some of my oldest friends. I met Joey when I was fourteen, right Joe?"
"She wouldn't leave me alone and go play nice with the other little kids, it was like takin' in a stray puppy."
Sara smiled and hit his shoulder, "And Maureen I've known since Halloween the year I moved back to California. We met at a costume party and became instant friends. I introduced her to Joey- who was living in Seattle at the time, a few months later." Sara smiled with self-pride and it made me smile too. "It was love at first sight. Of course, they were both engaged to other people- I wasn't even trying to get them together. But the three of us, along with our other friend Gina, her boyfriend at the time…Mike or something, and Gina's kid sister Vicki, ended up at Joey's friend's parent's cabin on Applegate Lake in Oregon for a holiday weekend." Sara smirked. "By the end of that weekend, if they hadn't called their fiancés to call it off, I would have. No one could go anywhere near the tool shed or the cove or the rowboat for the entire time. And then they dated for about ten million years…" She rolled her eyes.
"No, we dated for five years." He shrugged, "There didn't seem to be a reason for it, and we didn't have the money for Maureen to have the dream wedding she wanted, so we waited."
"Oh, that's so sweet." I looked at Sara. "What? I think that's sweet."
She smiled and shook her head at me. It was then that I realized we were still holding hands. Our fingers were intertwined, and neither of us seemed in a hurry to let go. I squeezed her hand tightly and delighted when she smiled and squeezed back.
"And then this girl just up and leaves four years ago without a word. Me and Maureen lead a totally different life than when you last knew us- we are upstanding citizens." Joe tried to look innocent.
"Really?" Sara scoffed.
"Well, yeah, we've had to be because of the kids. Joey jr. was born in May of 1999- she just turned four last week. Unicorn birthday cake, she got a Spiderman bike!" He sounded genuinely excited, "Reese is three and Jackson is two. They weren't exactly meant to be that close together, but," he shrugs, "they're good kids."
At that moment, a clanging sound signaled the swinging of the door. The woman that entered was a fairly light-skinned African-American with light brown eyes and well-manicured black curls. I was guessing that this was Maureen. She was a tiny woman, pretty, but not exceptionally so. Her face was sweet but she had premature lines around her eyes and mouth and her figure was a little too round for conventional beauty. Still, with three kids under four, I was surprised she looked as good as she did.
She dressed practically in what I always considered to be the 'I don't care if you drool, vomit, poop, or pee on these, they're only clothes anyway' outfit of old faded jeans, and a t-shirt under which was a tank top (in case the first layer needed to come off.) Still, she managed to find a long royal blue tank top to go under her coral colored tee, and the cuffs of her jeans were rolled up to reveal practical but fashionable sandals, proving that her sense of style had not gone out the window with her sanity and freedom. I liked her.
"Sara!" she said with an elated expression. "Vick is on her way in, but she had to stop for a quick one." She made the motion of smoking a cigarette. After that, she seemed unable to contain her excitement, and leapt into Sara's arms.
Surprisingly, Sara caught her up deftly and held her aloft for several seconds before returning her to the ground. But she didn't let her go. Obviously, they had been very close. A nasty little bit of my mind ventured, How close? But I shoved it down.
"Mm." Maureen hummed into Sara's shoulder. "How are you, girly-bird?" She gripped Sara's biceps, "You've gone all muscle! What do they make tofu out of in Nevada, huh?"
Sara smiled warmly- it was one of the happiest expressions I'd seen her make this trip. "I'm okay. I've missed you, though. I've missed everybody. The whole city. The whole ocean. But I've got other things now." Sara looked up at me and I felt a rush of heat to my chest and my cheeks.
Maureen followed her gaze and turned to me, "Now, who might you be?" she asked bluntly, a wary expression on her face.
Sara smiled at me while she spoke, "Mo, this Catherine, Catherine Willows, she's here visiting with me from Vegas."
This introduction threw me off. I had gone from colleague/maybe friend to definite friend/ colleague, and then to good friend, hold the colleague. What was this? Implied friend? I mean you don't go on a mini break with just anyone, do you? But if Sara did date women, which it was starting to sound like she did, then Maureen would know that and she might assume something other than friendship. Well, let her just assume away.
"Cath, this is Maureen Medeiros-Faye- Joey's wife, co-owner of this store, and a very dear friend."
Maureen greeted me in a friendly way, but turned back to Sara and her husband, talking back and forth about things I really didn't understand. I watched them talk like this for several minutes, clearly catching up on old times. For the first time, I wondered what we were doing here. Sara hadn't said anything, just that she'd needed to go into town. She looked so cute, so relaxed, so…different. I realized that she had never made Las Vegas her home, just a place she lived. Or was it that I had never made her feel at home there? That the team hadn't? I couldn't tell.
I didn't hear the door open this time, but I did notice when a young woman slowly sauntered in.
The girl had to be less than thirty and was about my height. She was much skinnier than I was; her hips were narrower. She was all but flat-chested, and quite clearly without a bra. Her pale gray halter top appeared to be fastened with purple cord, her jeans were obscenely tight. Her exposed arms were firm and toned.
Her hair was dyed black with a multitude of violet streaks; the bottom half hung below her shoulders and the top was up in twin buns held in place by lime green and hot pink chopsticks. Her eye make-up was heavy, but it was the only make-up she wore. Her fingernails were painted black. In one pocket was a pack of cigarettes, and in the other, what looked like reading glasses.
She had an assortment of tattoos and piercings. Countless silver hoops in her ears, a barbell through one eyebrow, and a ring through the side of her lower lip. Her most noticeable tattoos were swirling Chinese dragon cuffs around her wrists, and a blue sunburst on one shoulder- it seemed familiar somehow. The look was completed with scuffed and worn high-heeled combat boots that had been re-laced with what appeared to be laces sporting dead Hello Kitties. What is wrong with people?
She looked like one of those ravers we find out in the desert overdosed on the pill of the week. I was half looking around for glow sticks. For all that, with her big hazel eyes, slender nose, and pouty lips, I had to admit that she was gorgeous. This had to be Vicki. One look at Sara deduced that I was right. Happy, relaxed look; gone.
Either ignoring me or not seeing me altogether, the girl walked straight past and stepped squarely in front of Sara. I moved around so that I could see their interaction better. Vicki moved in as if to hug Sara and I smirked. Mistake numero uno. You do not make the first move to hug Sara unless it is an absolute emergency. Correct protocol; stand closely to Sara and wait for her to hug you. If she doesn't, quickly step back so as not to aggravate the beast. Everyone knows this. But apparently not Miss Thang here.
Vicki smirked and stood back when she realized Sara wasn't about to return her embrace anytime soon. She twirled a thread of hair in her fingers. "Hey, Birdie." She smiled and tilted her head to one side looking like she was enjoying herself.
Sara shifted uncomfortably and crossed her arms over her chest, but she held her ground. "Vicki." Okay, I officially did not like this Vicki character. Who was she to come in here and rattle my girl like that? Well, not my girl, but certainly my friend.
"Been in town long? Were you planning on calling me?"
I began circling around so that I could get to Sara who was standing between Joey and Maureen. For whatever reason, though I had a strong feeling I knew why, this woman was winding Sara up really tight, and I wanted to be there to calm her down.
"Actually, we just got in yesterday, and I didn't even know that you were in town. Last I'd heard you were on a boat to Anchorage with that musician slash fisherman."
Vicki bit her lip and turned her head to the side, smiling in a very childish expression, "We, Birdie-bird?"
Sara was becoming flustered. I think that nickname bothered her a bit. "Huh?"
Vicki giggled in what I thought was a seriously obnoxious way and batted her eyelashes. "You said 'we', Birdie-bird."
At that moment, I came up beside Sara, coughed lightly, and smiled in a way I'm sure was anything but friendly. "Yes, 'we.'"
Sara looked down at me, suddenly surprised at my presence. Up close, I could literally feel the heat of nervous tension pouring off of her. Giving her an encouraging smile and nod, I put my arm around her back and hooked my thumb through her front belt loop. I hoped I wasn't overstepping. At first, Sara looked even more nervous, then she just looked confused, but then finally she relaxed and smiled. And then she surprised me.
Sara put her own arm around my middle, pulled me to her until we were hip to hip, and kissed the spot right between my cheekbone and temple. Once. Twice. Three times. I think I died. I know I shut my eyes involuntarily and I know I inhaled sharply. Because these were not the quick, friendly, 'hi, how are ya?' kinds of pecks that one might exchange with someone platonically. No.
No, these were the slow, sensual, I-can-feel-every-curve-of-your-lips, your-nose-is-nuzzling-in-my-hair, god-your-breath-is-hot-on-my-skin, please-never-ever-stop, do-I-even-have-knees!? types of kisses. And I really, really liked them.
When Sara eventually stopped and pulled away, she completed her little show of affection by lightly resting the hand not currently making its home in my back pocket, on my abdomen. Then she looked up at Vicki.
The bright smile she flashed her seemed pretty genuine. "Yeah," she glanced pointedly at me, "we."
I saw Vicki's super-glued smile falter the tiniest bit, and Sara spotted it as well. She stood a little straighter.
The smile was back on quickly, though, "Aren't you going to introduce us, Birdie-bird?" She looked directly at me when she added the pet name, like maybe it would make me jealous or something. It did, I was ready to rip her face in half, but I'd be damned if I would show it.
"Sure." Sara met my gaze and there was a twinkle in her eye that I had rarely seen before. I squeezed her hip and gave her the slightest of nods to assure her that I was game for whatever she was about to do. "Hon," she beamed at me before turning back to the other woman, "This is Vicki Marinelli. Vicki, this is Catherine."
"Catherine…?" Vicki fished.
"Willows." And that was my last bit of active participation in that conversation because at that point Sara's hand started skimming over my navel like it had the morning before at the hotel.
Alright, so, I realized that this act was, in all likelihood, just a way to piss off Vicki, who I had deduced was definitely an old lover. But, you know what? I just didn't care. I decided that I was going to exploit this as much as humanly possible. So, I rested my head on her shoulder and prayed I wasn't taking it too far. Nope. Not at all. Sara pulled me so that I was in front of her, reclining against her chest. She wrapped arms around me and let her thumbs continue to stroke my abdomen beneath the hem of my shirt.
Then she kissed the top of my head before resting her chin on it. She never stopped talking or paying attention to the conversation; it was as if her actions were automatic.
Destructive and very, very not good thoughts began to circulate in my mind. Was this what it would be like to be with Sara for real? Would she hold me like this when I was cold or scared? Was she the kind of lover to leave trails of small sweet kisses? What would it feel like to have her lips meet mine? All of these questions were really not helpful.
When I managed to get my thoughts back together enough to listen to the conversation, I suddenly felt very out of place.
Joey was saying, "We'd heard about Warren and Matt, honey, and we are just so sorry." He sounded truly sincere.
"It just broke my heart. The crash was on the news and then we got the call from Lara Winters, Denny's wife- I don't think you'll have met her. Tell, me, how are those little girls holding up?"
Sara wrapped her arms tighter around me, "They're doing the best they can. Ayla's taking it the hardest. Maggie doesn't really understand, but she's upset, too."
"Where are they staying?" This was Vicki, who seemed to have momentarily dropped the bitch act when she realized why Sara was here.
"With their grandparents, but I think they're wearing them out."
I turned in Sara's arms and looked up at her. I didn't need to be here for this, and she seemed to be calming down. It would probably be easier for them to talk if I wasn't there. When Sara looked down at me, her hands still holding me close, I smiled at her and linked my arms around her neck. I had no idea what we were doing, there was really no need to take the charade this far, but Sara, for once, seemed completely comfortable with my touch, so I wasn't about to pass up the opportunity.
"Baby, I think I'm going to go outside and call the office. Just to check in? I'll let you guys be alone for a bit, okay?"
She tucked non-existent fallen hair behind my ear and it was strange; it felt like whenever she touched me, we were the only two people in a room. "Are you sure, hon? You can stay if you like."
I shook my head, "I'll only be in the way. I'll just pop out and check back in a few okay?"
Sara nodded and raised an eyebrow at me as if she was trying to decide something.
I knew how it must look to the three people behind me; two people with their arms around one another, speaking in hushed voices, touching softly, staring straight into each other's eyes, unblinking. I knew what they must be thinking, hell, a part of me wanted to believe it myself. They are seriously in love.
Apparently decided, Sara brought her hands to cup my face and leaned in. Oh, my God. Was she about to kiss me? Here? Now? I shut my eyes tightly, not daring to breathe. Moments later I felt soft lips connect with my forehead. I inhaled maybe a bit too loudly. Unidentifiable emotions were coursing through me.
"Thanks, Cath," she whispered.
Stay cool, keep calm, breathe. Breathe. And then get the fuck out of there.
I hugged her close, snuggling into her shoulder and pulling myself up on my tiptoes I whispered back, "Anytime." Then I kissed her neck and spun around quickly. It took all of my energy not to run out of the store.
What the hell had just happened?
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Out of sight of the storefront window, I ran around the corner and power walked the six blocks west to the waterfront. I stood watching the families and couples, not really taking it all in. Any of it. God, this was so not good. Had I wanted her to kiss me? Like really wanted it? When she hadn't kissed me, I had felt the strangest rush of relief and disappointment. Her lips had been right there; I had felt her breath on my face.
She was right there, and it was all my body could do to cover the base functions- and even those were faulty. Her proximity was intoxicating. And then when she looked in my eyes…Christ, just thinking about it made something flutter somewhere, everywhere. She had just stared me down and for those few moments I'd really felt like…
But, hell. That's not right is it? One minute we were just playing around, trying to piss off Miss 'Online Fetish Shop', and the next…it hadn't felt so much like we were pretending, had it?
I shivered in the warmth of the perfectly sunny, spring day. I shook my head and for some reason, fought down tears. I couldn't handle this. It was too much. What if in those precious seconds, it hadn't been pretending for her either? What if she had felt it, too?
I turned and paced again. But what if she hadn't? I had no idea which was worse, or more terrifying. This couldn't be happening to me! I was forty years old! This kind of confusing adolescent bullshit just didn't happen to people like me; not to working single mothers. Not to people who had done the things I had done or seen the things I'd seen. It just didn't happen. It. Just. Didn't.
I paused in my pacing. But what if I really wanted it to? What did that mean?
It was too much. I pulled out my cell phone. I couldn't actually call work like I had said to Sara. It was either way too late or several hours too early. And while it was highly probable that Gil was in his office anyway, I didn't really want to talk to him. Instead, I dialed Nancy. She should be picking Lindsey up from school right about now.
I was in luck, and Nancy was in fact waiting outside Linds's school. We talked mostly about what Lindsey was up to, after I circumvented any and all questions pertaining to Sara. About the time she was telling me about Lindsey's upcoming play auditions, I started back for the store- somehow, I'd managed to be gone more than half an hour. When Lindsey got in the car, Nance handed the phone over to her. By the time I reached the store, Lindsey was in full gossip mode, so I stayed outside, listening to her and leaning against the wall around the corner from the entrance.
She was so excited, some of her happiness and familiarity drifted through the phone. My daughter could always make me smile. She started talking about making a mess in Nancy's kitchen and I heard Nancy make a sarcastic remark in the background.
I laughed. "I thought you were going to be a good girl while I was away."
Linds asked me when I was coming home.
"I should be back in a few days, sweetheart." She whined. "Don't pout at me," I smiled. This kind of talk always relaxed me. "Maybe I'll bring you something back…if you're good that of course."
She asked me what I would bring her.
"Well, what would you like?" I asked, knowing probably what it would be.
She suggested an iPod. Surprise.
"Hmm…" I said, pretending to think about it, "Lindsey, I don't think you've earned a present that special. But if you're really, really good- and I mean really good, when I get back, I'll make it worth your while."
She went into 'worship the Goddess, Mommy' mode, which involves a great deal of shrieking and 'I love you's. I shook my head.
"Okay, okay. I've gotta go, babydoll, but I'll call again soon."
She asked if Sara knew that she was getting an iPod.
Forgetting to correct her and say that she only might be getting one I said conspiratorially, "Of course Sara doesn't know! And I don't think we should tell her; think how jealous she'd be?"
Lindsey agreed. It would be a secret just between us.
"All right, I love you."
Still in her worshipping state of mind, she insisted that she loved me more.
"Nope." I grinned. "Not possible. I love you the most. Bye, Linds."
After that phone call, I felt much more like my old self. I could do this. Just put on a brave face. I took a deep breath and turned the corner with the intention of returning to Sara. But I didn't. Instead, I ran straight into Vicki.
And she looked livid.
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