Brenda comes to lunch Part 1
Brenda's viewpoint
Noon Sunday found me standing outside the nicely upscale apartment complex where Natalie and Anastasia lived. I had almost been late as I hemmed and hawed about what to wear for several hours, selecting and discarding one outfit after another.
Jeans and T shirt: Too casual.
Tailored skirt and jacket: Too much like work.
Fitted skirt and blouse with heels: Too dressy.
Blazer and slacks: Way too much like work.
Floral dress and sweater: I could imagine the look on Sharon's face, it went straight back in the closet.
What exactly was the expected dress code when having Sunday lunch, with a lesbian couple, at their place?
I'd had very little contact with lesbians before, the ones I had met had all been work-related. I hadn't really socially interacted with them and hadn't really wondered about their lives.
Now I was working with not one but two couples and their lives were intersecting with mine in ways I'd never even thought of before. Neither fit with my admittedly shallow understanding of lesbian's, mostly made up of stereotypes formed from pop culture
Neither Jane nor Anastasia were particularly butch, given to short haircuts and mannish clothes and while both Natalie and Maura did dress extremely well, neither of them was what I would term an excessively 'femme' woman, they both did challenging jobs very well.
Was one of them the 'male' and the other 'female' in the relationship? I didn't know if those stereotypes truly existed. I could imagine Ana and Jane as the dominant partner the 'male', in any relationship no matter who their partner was, male or female. But that would mean Maura and Natalie were subservient and that didn't seem very likely.
Natalie was way too outgoing and confident to knuckle under to anyone, while Maura had real strength under that polished exterior. Neither seemed likely to be the type to take a back seat in anything, let alone letting another woman tell them what to do.
On the other hand, maybe they did, maybe I hadn't a clue what I was talking about, which was equally likely.
I'd finally settled on wearing a nice pair of dressy jeans, paired with a thankfully pressed white blouse and cork wedge heels I'd picked up on a whim months back but not actually worn since. I'd brought a nice bottle of white, plus a bottle of merlot, to team with whatever was on the menu.
As I walked up the steps, I remembered Natalie strolling into my office a few days ago.
She had casually breezed in, chatted about the sniper case and we'd discussed what we could and couldn't tell the media and then out of the blue she'd asked me what I'd planned for the weekend.
Without thinking I had answered honestly, that is that I had nothing planned, which was all too true.
I had very few friends here, mostly the people in my squad and Sharon. Everyone else I had known I had met through Fritz and when that ended so did they. Mostly I buried myself in work, or sat around in the mess that my apartment had become.
Even before Fritz left I had been a messy person, now, with no one to bug me about it, the place was a disaster. My dry cleaning bill was a significant portion of the Californian budget deficit; thank god there was a local family run dry cleaning place that did practically everything besides underwear. It meant that I only had to do laundry once a week and drop off the rest on Monday morning and it would be ready for collection on Tuesday night.
I'd also become a very good customer of almost every takeout place in the area, often too tired or frankly too miserable to cook, it was awfully easy to pick up the phone and have something delivered, which I seemed to do more and more often.
Natalie had smiled and said in that case they'd love to have me over for Sunday lunch and before I could think of a reason why I couldn't she'd got me to agree to come over and was strolling out the door, promising to email me the address and time.
With no good reason to back out, I found myself knocking on a door, to be answered by a very casual-looking Natalie, comfortable and attractive in jeans, polo shirt and slip-ons. Stepping in, I was wrapped in a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before I knew it and then led into the kitchen. I was still processing what that all meant when I spotted Anastasia.
She was leaning against the kitchen bench next to the oven, wearing linen trousers, an oversized shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of casual runners, looking very young and fresh. Looking up with a warm smile she walked over and gave me a hug and a quick peck on the cheek before thanking me for bringing some wine.
Hugs? Kisses on the cheek? I was wondering what it all meant, or was I overthinking it, when Anastasia took the wine and walked back to the bench.
"We're having Beef Wellington, so probably the red's a better choice" I was surprised and must have shown it, as she looked a question at me.
"I haven't had Beef Wellington in years; the last time was in England in the late 90s" Ana smiled happily at my confession.
"Ah, I first had it when our family was posted to England when I was a kid. I liked it enough to learn the recipe years later"
"What did your family do?"
"Dad was in the army, so we got posted to lots of interesting places, including England. I got exposed to all sorts of different foods which I like to cook from time to time" Natalie smiled.
"I get the benefit of Ana's culinary history; I'd never had Beef Wellington, or Steak and Kidney Pie before I met Ana. Same with Pot-au-feu and Pelmeni and Rogan Josh"
"Pelmeni, now that's something I haven't tasted in a while" Ana looked at me with a surprised expression.
"Most people don't even know what it is, let alone tasted it" I smiled, remembering back through the years to sitting in Dmitri's kitchen eating Pelmeni with vodka and black bread. He may have been an exile from his home but he still loved the food he grew up with.
"Ah, my Russian teacher was very partial to it and made it often" Ana's face lit up.
"Vy govorite po-russki?" * I smiled back, delighted to speak it after so many years.
"Da, nemnogo" ** Ana smiled at me, equally pleased.
"More than a little I suspect, you have a Muscovite accent"
"Thank you, yours is of St Petersburg, but you've not spoken it for a long time I think"
"Not since before my father died, he was the one who taught me. He was a Russian language specialist with the army. Where did you learn yours?"
"It was part of my training at Langley, along with German and Czech" Natalie looked pleased.
"Excellent, someone who can translate the things Ana says when she's pissed off at something" I smiled at her.
"Russian is a perfect language for swearing, great for relieving stress. I confess to using it at times"
"Then tell me, what does 'YobTavyu maat' mean? That's the one she uses most often" I looked at her for a moment and then looked over at Anastasia, who flushed.
"That would be 'Yob tvoyu mat' *** and I don't think it would be appropriate to explain it to you. Anastasia would need to do that" The look of frustration on Natalie's face was amusing.
"Dammit, finally someone who speaks Russian and they won't tell me. What is this, a Slavic speaker solidarity thing?" I smiled..
"More something that nice girls shouldn't be saying out loud" She looked sideways at Anastasia, whose cheeks were burning.
"Ah, I see, thank you Chief"
"Please, call me Brenda" They both broke out in smiles and we wandered over to the lounge while lunch finished cooking.
As we sat I looked around the apartment, it was quite tastefully furnished, with a number of personal touches, including a photo of Natalie with what were obviously her parents, another of Natalie and Ana with the Eifel Tower as the backdrop and one with Anastasia's arms around an older man with salt and pepper hair, who I assumed was her father.
The overwhelming sense was of normality, a couple sharing a home. I suppose that this was what I should have expected, but I really didn't know what I would see; whips, chains and sex toys scattered across the place?
"I'm glad you found the place ok, I'm still finding my way around"
"Well, I struggled for a while, to the point that David Gabriel wouldn't let me go anywhere alone, I kept getting lost" Natalie nodded.
"Well, compared to LA, Seattle was a breeze; thank god for GPS otherwise I'd never find anything'
"I had to arrest an actor one day not long after I got here and David wouldn't let me drive. He told me that I would probably get lost on the way there" Anastasia frowned.
"That sounds a bit harsh" I smiled at the memory.
"No actually, he was right. He pointed out that even if I did find the right place, could I be sure that I would be able to get Dean Kingsley back to the station without getting lost, while being followed by a swarm of media? He ended up driving" Natalie nodded.
"I remember that, it made the news up in Seattle. As I recall he was released later"
"Yes, it turned out that one of his long string of casual conquests had killed his wife to free him of a non-existent pre-nup. She thought with the wife gone they could be together and raise their baby, she was carrying Kingsley's child you see" Natalie looked horrified and fascinated all at once.
"What happened?"
"Well Kingsley had already moved on to a new woman, so we convinced him to cooperate, which allowed us to extract a confession from the girl. She's doing life while her parents raise the daughter"
"Didn't Kingsley want to raise his child?" I looked over at Anastasia and shook my head.
"No, he didn't want the scandal, plus a child might slow down his career or his affairs, so he signed over custody" She pulled a face as if she had tasted something vile.
"Son of a bitch, that's low, choosing your job or mistress over your own child" I nodded.
"Well, doing anything else would suggest more character than Mr Kingsley possesses I'm afraid" Natalie nodded.
"That's something I'm still getting used to here, the number of celebrities who end up passing through the system, mostly on minor charges but occasionally serious ones like Kingsley. We had nothing like that up in Seattle" I laughed, remembering some of them who had passed through our hands.
"Don't worry, they're still human, with feet of clay" Natalie smiled.
"Well Kingsley's last show bombed on cable so maybe karma did get him"
We spent the next half hour chatting about old cases involving celebrities. I had to admit, they were very good at teasing the stories out of me, tag teaming me when I tried to protest that I'd done nothing but talk since I got there.
Mind you, I was finding their company fun, they were good listeners, plus I hadn't sat down with people like this outside of the squad and Sharon for a very long time, over a year in fact.
Before I knew it I was sitting with my shoes off, legs curled up under me on the sofa laughing as Natalie entertained us with a story about an interview with two stars making a series in Seattle.
"Their characters were supposed to have 'unresolved sexual tension'…" She said, putting air quotes around the words. "…but it was obvious they didn't really have all that much liking for one another. Can't say I was all that surprised when he tried to hit on me, he came across as a real sleaze bag" She laughed, looking over at where Anastasia was working on lunch in the kitchen.
"Ana was standing nearby and I was afraid she might hear him and probably shoot him, which would have been a career limiting move". Ana's voice came from the kitchen behind me.
"I did hear him; I just couldn't believe what he was saying"
"Anyway, I finally got away from him, where he trying to peer down my blouse, to interview his co-star. I thought it would be a relief to get away from him, only to find out she was even worse" She rolled her eyes at me.
"My god Brenda, she blatantly propositioned me; got all touchy feely and then, when the interview was over I felt something sliding into the back pocket of my jeans. It turned out to be the key card to her hotel room" I laughed, although I could understand the attraction to Natalie, she was stunning and I wondered how Anastasia dealt with it. It must be hard to love someone that everyone else wants, men or women.
"So what did you do?"
"When I pulled it out of my pocket, I marched back up to her, shoved it into her hand and told her that I was in a relationship"
"How did that go down?" She shrugged.
"Told me that we were both here now and I didn't have to go home. I pointed out that not only was I in a relationship, but my partner was a real live FBI agent standing not 20 feet away"
"Did that scare her off?" She shook her head.
"No, she turned around, spotted Natalie, looked her over and asked me to bring her too" Anastasia's voice piped in from the kitchen.
"You never told me that part!" Natalie looked over to the kitchen.
"I wasn't going to share anything with her and besides, she wasn't even a natural red head"
"Oh"
Natalie looked back and shrugged at me.
"Ana has a thing for red heads, I'm sure she's got the hots for Scarlett Johansson as the Black Widow, even if she is faking it" Ana's voice rang out from the kitchen again.
"Hey Blondie, you were the one rewinding during her action scenes, not me" Natalie rolled her eyes at me again before responding.
"Only because you were too busy drooling to work the remote" I had to laugh, they sounded like a normal couple, even if they were both women.
"So Brenda, now you see why I work for the police, we get to put the sleaze bags in jail, not promote their careers" I nodded.
Anastasia must have opened the oven, as the most delicious aroma came wafting out of the kitchen, causing my mouth to water. Natalie obviously saw the expression on my face as she laughed and stood up.
"C'mon, let's go see what Ana has for us"
What she had for us turned out to be a sensational Beef Wellington with roast vegetables and it was delicious. So delicious I had to go back for seconds.
I ended up declining dessert simply because I had no room for it; I was so proud of myself, especially when they told me it was gourmet chocolate chip ice cream. I ended up back curled up on the sofa, nursing a red wine as Natalie and Anastasia sat on the other sofa.
Well more honestly, Ana sat at one end with Natalie lying curled up next to her using her shoulder for a pillow. It was a very affectionate position and I could see she wasn't self-conscious at all about how she behaved in front of a stranger. On reflection I couldn't see why she should be, we were in their home and they weren't doing anything more than just being close.
We had been chatting about lots of things, including parents and the various ways they had embarrassed us over the years. Some of the things Clay and Willie Ray had done over the years, mostly involving Major Crimes, had them in stitches
"What about yours, surely mine can't be the only ones to do something that makes you want to curl up and die?" They looked at one another for a moment before Ana nodded in a 'you go' gesture.
"My parents are really cool, spoilt me as I grew up and always supported me, even when I decided to do journalism instead of medicine like they hoped. I did first year medicine, but found I couldn't stand cutting people open, which was kind of a problem as a surgeon, so I switched to communications instead"
"Anyway, the first time I went home with Ana, I was trying to tell them about her, but I couldn't find the right time, or the right place, or the right words. It wasn't that I was ashamed or anything, just fretting about how you come out to your parents when as far as they know you were completely straight without a gay bone in your body"
I nodded, fascinated. How do you tell your parents you're a lesbian? I couldn't imagine my parent's reactions; I think I'd probably be too afraid to tell them.
"They already knew that she was my best friend, we had been friends for about four months before we moved from friends to being partners" I watched as Natalie reached out and intertwined her fingers with Ana's in a casually affectionate move.
"Anyway, mom was going to put Ana in the guest bedroom, while I slept I my old room, which had two single beds in it, the other was for my younger sister before she went off to college" she added. I nodded.
"Anyway I suddenly had this idea that we would spend a week there and be stuck in separate rooms, so I told mom and dad that as we usually stayed up late at night chatting, she could stay in the other bed in my room and this way we wouldn't wake anyone when Ana went back to her room" She shrugged.
"They agreed to it and Ana stayed in my room. Each night we would push the beds together and then set the alarm for very early to push them apart the next morning before my mom came in" Ana laughed.
"We thought we were being very discrete and secretive, while still being together" Natalie shot a happy look at Ana before continuing.
"Right up til the third afternoon, when we came back in after a day out shopping with mom, to discover that dad had moved the single beds out of my room and replaced them with the double bed from the guest room. When I asked them why, Dad replied that this way we wouldn't be dragging the beds back and forward over the polished floors" Now it was Anastasia's turn to laugh again.
"For a moment there I thought that we might have got away with it, that it was all innocent until Natalie's mother Carol pointed out that this way, there was no gap between the mattresses and it would be a lot more comfortable no matter what we were doing"
I laughed, imagining how I would have felt if my parents had done that if I had turned up with a girlfriend in tow, on second thought, considering my daddy and his temper, perhaps not.
"It tuned out that on the first night my mom, who hadn't been sleeping well, had walked past our door on the way to get a glass of water and decided to look in on her baby girl. Well, she found us curled up asleep together under the covers, obviously naked" I must have looked as appalled as I felt, as Natalie laughed at my expression.
"Oh for heaven's sake, what did she say?'
"Nothing to me, but she told my dad the following morning. He apparently told mom, who was a bit upset, that I could have done a lot worse and if she cared to remember some of the guys I dated before university, I had" Ana leaned over and kissed Natalie's brow before looking at me.
"I think it helped that her dad was a farmer and my dad became one after he retired, so we got to talk about stuff like crop rotations and animal husbandry and farm stuff. We sort of bonded over wheat seed catalogues and types of fertilizer so now I'm the favourite daughter" Natalie looked up at her with mock outrage in her voice.
"Hey!" Ana was unfazed.
"Well I am. I wormed my way into their affections when I remembered their wedding anniversary and you didn't" Natalie pulled a face.
"Jeez, you're never going to let me forget that are you?" Anastasia looked smug.
"Nope" Natalie sat up and mock-frowned up at her before looking over at me
"Honestly Brenda, I don't know why I keep her around" Ana smirked.
"It's really simple Brenda, she may have the looks but I'm the brains of this outfit"
"Says you!" cried Natalie as she launched herself onto Ana in a tickle attack.
"Damn right" I watched as they wrestled for a few seconds, each trying to tickle the other into submission, before they subsided into a gasping, giggling heap.
I had to smile; they were so sweet, so obviously happy and content with each other, that I couldn't help it. I missed that. Even though the worst of the silences and the fights that marked the last six months of our time together, there were other times when I could snuggle up against Fritz and feel the comfort of someone else.
As I thought back, I realised that I had been at least as much at fault as he had been. I wanted a career, I wasn't ready to stop and walk away from my job for children and a family home and the whole happy families fairy-tale but I desperately wanted someone safe who would look after me and treat me like I deserved to be loved.
Fritz had wanted someone to love who would have his kids and who would be safe at home, not out being shot at by criminals and stalked by serial killers.
Basically they were mutually incompatible objectives that we had papered over, he wanted someone to love and take care of, and I wanted to be loved and held. That got us through a couple of years but the cracks had started to show, especially about children.
It had been nine months since Fritz left and three more before that when we had slept in separate beds since I had last felt real human contact and I felt a gaping chasm open up in front of me.
I watched the women in front of me demonstrate what a life full of warmth and love really was and it just made the loneliness even worse. In fact I don't think I'd ever had the sort of easy intimacy with someone that they did, they were so comfortable with each other that they didn't mind looking silly, or others seeing how much they loved each other.
All my life, with the people I loved, or thought I had, there had always been a tension there.
My first husband turned out to be an asshole, I'd been young and stupid and I'd paid the price for that before escaping via a divorce and a move to a different city.
With Fritz it was the understanding that we really wanted different things and that I had pushed that aside in the hope of making it work, only to realise it wasn't.
With Pope, it was the hiding and the sneaking around and the eventual dawning realisation that we were never going to work, he was never going to leave his wife for me.
With the few others; one night stands and short term lovers and the two longer term boyfriends I'd had, I'd realised that I was taking physical solace but there was an emotional void in there, one which I never really managed to fill.
So I had poured myself into work, a career, catching criminals that thought they were too smart or too powerful to ever be caught, because it gave my life purpose and helped me try and avoid staring to the emptiness inside me.
Now, as I sat on a comfortable couch in a nicely furnished apartment with two women I barely knew, I truly realised how empty and alone I really was. I wanted what they had; love and comfort and acceptance and instead I had a black abyss in my soul.
I suddenly realised that tears were running down my face and that I was tightly sandwiched between both of them, their arms around me, holding me and whispering quiet words of comfort. How had we got here? How had I lost control?
More importantly, how did I get out of here?
Translations
* Do you speak Russian?
** A little
*** Fuck your mother, a Russian curse