Maura opened her eyes at five minutes to six and reached for her iphone on the beside table. She swiped the alarm off. Performing a quick calculation, she determined that the sun had already risen above the horizon; she had missed the sunrise. She lay back against the pillows and closed her eyes.
She had made it a habit on the three previous mornings to walk the one block to the beach and sit with her coffee on top of the wooden stairway winding down the dunes to the sandy shore and the rough Atlantic beyond it. Coffee and sunrise, followed by a brisk walk in the damp sand and a more leisurely stroll up and down the narrow walkways of the town where she would admire the wood-shingled cottages, noting a handsome set of pocket doors in one or a carefully tended Zen garden in another. She had her definite favorites and looked forward to showing them to Jane.
She rolled onto her side and gazed at her fianceé in the muted dawn light. Jane's face was peaceful; the lines that habitually creased her brow were smooth, her soft lips slightly parted. Maura reached out a hand and traced the sharp line of Jane's cheekbone until it disappeared into black tresses. Sleeping, Jane Rizzoli seemed smaller, delicate, as if her oversized personality added thirty pounds of muscle to the slender woman which she shed along with her clothing when she slipped into their bed.
Maura shifted herself closer until Jane's exhalations tickled the side of her neck. She wanted nothing more than to wrap herself around the dark beauty, bury her face in the hollow of her collarbone and become intoxicated by her scent. She breathed deeply; ebony wood and musk mingled with sea minerals and…and frankfurters. She laughed and Jane's long eyelashes fluttered.
"Hush, my love, go back to sleep."
The pliant detective obeyed, shifting slightly before her breathing once again became regular.
Maura resisted the urge to touch her, knowing the skin under her fingertips would be warm and supple. The depth of her own love astounded her anew each day. It did not surprise her that she had fallen in love with a woman, only that she had within her the capacity to care so profoundly and that after a lifetime of solitude, her love was returned in equal measure. She touched the ring on her left hand. Jane would be her wife.
"My wife." She whispered.
Jane stirred again and Maura froze. Her future wife had had a difficult night and needed her sleep. She was up until past midnight with cramps and indigestion. Naturally Maura was up with her, fussing around the groaning detective, offering antacids and herbal tea, a fleet enema and a mind-centering exercise that she hoped would take Jane's thoughts away from her aching belly and focus them on a peaceful mountain top in the Himalayas where saffron-robed monks rang bells and the mountain wind spun clacking wooden prayer wheels.
"I feel like someone poured gasoline down my throat and dropped a match in after." Jane had rubbed the center of her chest and belched.
"That's the gastric acids from your stomach backing up through your overstretched lower esophageal sphincter."
Jane looked horrified. "So I'm shitting backwards inside my body?"
"No, of course not. Your overfilled stomach is fighting against peristalsis, pushing its contents back into your upper digestive tract."
"Perestroika? Yeah, it feels like there's a Cold War going on in my guts; must be those Soviet hot dogs. But what about my…" Jane whispered, although they were alone in the small driftwood bathroom; "…my sphincter."
Maura tilted her head in confusion. "You have to be more specific, Jane. The human body has over fifty sphincters, small circular bands of muscle. I was referring to the one that controls the opening to your stomach. When you overeat, it stretches and leaks."
"I thought you were talking about my butt."
"Your butt?"
"Um, yeah… never mind. As long as my butt isn't going to leak, I'm gonna try to get some sleep."
"That's a good idea."
Jane had finally drifted off, bent into a semi-fetal position, her arms wound around her own middle. Maura intended to let her sleep as long as she liked today. It would be her last day for idleness; Faye and Kaye would be with them for the balance of their vacation and the older women were early risers.
With a final sniff at Jane's neck, Maura left the comfort of their bed and showered quickly, pulling on a set of peacock blue scrubs with matching crocs. She checked once more on Jane who was now laying on her back and snoring with her mouth open. Jo Friday was walking in circles at the bottom of the bed, preparing to nest. Next she would start scratching at the comforter and perhaps wake Jane.
She shooed the dog off of the bed and headed for the stairs, plucking a paperback novel from a shelf in the bedroom, Fifty Shades of Grey. Maura was certain that there were a near infinite amount of greys, but the limitations of human sight rendered them indistinguishable from one another. The title of this book was already problematic, but she tucked it under her arm and headed for the kitchen and Dr. Argentina's heavenly French press coffee pot. Jane hated it, of course, claiming the coffee it produced tasted like snake venom and dog shit. Maura shook her head, smiling. No one described things quite like Jane.
"Come on, Jo. Let's have our coffee outside on the deck." The little dog happily followed her across the simple kitchen and out the back door.
Maura sat at a plastic patio table and opened Dr. Argentina's novel. She read a dozen pages and placed it aside. It was impossible to concentrate on the problems of fictional characters when much more interesting reading material was within her reach. She opened her own paperback, Chemical Studies of Marine Bacteria from Protozoa to Siderphones. She had chosen it for its oceanic theme, perfectly suited for beach reading. She sighed in contentment and took another sip from her mug.
The sea breeze was cool and refreshing as it blew across the back deck of Belly Acres, scenting the air with bayberry and saltwater, beach moss and weathered cedar from miles of boardwalk—the scents of her childhood summers on Martha's Vineyard. Maura found herself daydreaming and doodling in the margins of her journal. Instead of asterisks next to assertions she found questionable, there were great looping hearts, some pierced through with arrows. Where she might have written a formula or a theory to research further, there was only one word written again and again: Jane. Jane at the center of a poorly drawn flower, Jane underlined and circled, Jane encapsulated in a lop-sided heart.
Maura had never indulged herself in the sort of silly, lovesick mooning that had infected all of her classmates at boarding school; writing a boy's name on her notebook or filling up page after page in a fantasy signature: Mrs. Rick Springfield or Mrs. Simon Le Bon. Her notebooks were always filled with small, neat rows of writing directly related to the subject matter of the class. If she doodled at all, it was a chemical compound; perfectly rendered molecules joined by thick straight lines or perhaps the twisting ladder of a double helix climbing up the side of a page. She laughed at herself, embarrassed, then picked up her pen and signed Maura D. Rizzoli across the bottom of the page. After a moment she added a hyphen and Isles.
Just as she was finishing her second try at a calligraphic Mrs. and Mrs. Rizzoli-Isles, having rejected the antiquated Dr. and Mrs., her phone farted, announcing an incoming text. Maura rolled her eyes; Jane was continually changing her ring tones. Last week, during a meeting with three visiting scientists from Japan, Maura was mortified by a loud belch coming from the pocket of her lab coat followed by a "Boom chicka wow wow."
The message was from Kaye.
Faye really cracked the whip this morning. We're on the road 10 minutes ahead of schedule. ETA depends on our elderly bladders and Annaliese's boredom level. Probably need to make lots of rest stops.
Maura texted back.
Keep me abreast of the situation. We will meet you at the ferry.
Then she added:
Urinate in southern Connecticut. There are no rest stops on Long Island.
And:
Make sure you board the ferry to Cherry Grove, not the Pines; it's very clearly marked, but Jane managed to miss it.
It was now eight minutes to seven, eight minutes before Maura was due to open the clinic. She resolved to call her mother. Eight minutes was nearly the perfect amount of time for a conversation with Constance; long enough for them to catch up, but not long enough for awkwardness, flared tempers and hurt feelings. If Constance was in Europe, it would be early afternoon, she might have only had one drink.
As her finger hovered over the send call button, a bestial howl shred the air. Maura dropped the phone and leaped to her feet. Jo Friday was already at the door, barking and scratching to get into the house.
"Jane! Jane!" Perhaps her fianceé had an intestinal rupture or a prolapsed rectum as she tried to void that mass of subquality meat.
A second shriek, higher pitched and more desperate hit her ears as she rushed into the kitchen. She headed toward the stairs just as two long, tanned legs appeared, followed by the naked and bewildered form of Jane Rizzoli. Her hair was a tangled snarl and she clutched her Glock in her left hand.
"Maura, stay here."
The doctor sagged against the refrigerator, relief loosening her tightened muscles; Jane was fine, anything else they could deal with together.
A third yowl and sob had Jo Friday pressed to the floor, whining and covering her face with her tiny paws. Maura straightened her spine and followed the nude form of her lover through the door that led from their private quarters into the clinic.
Jane cleared the examination room in a crouch, her gun, now held in both hands ready to fire, pointing out in front of her. She whipped her head around and gestured again for Maura to wait.
"Stay put," she hissed.
She pulled open the door to the waiting room and cleared it in the same manner. Without hesitation she unlocked the front door and opened it, stepping onto the porch, her Glock still moving in a practiced arc ahead of her.
"Nurse D'Fwan!" Maura appeared at Jane's side, elbowing past her and hurrying to a muscular black man in a nurse's uniform laying on the deck.
Jane lowered her gun, her muscles still twitching with unspent adrenalin.
"Are you hurt?" Maura rested two fingers on D'Fwan's carotid. His pulse was quick, but steady. She began palpitating the back of his skull, knocking aside his crisp nurse's hat, checking for injury.
Jane peered over the pair. "Holy shit."
Maura wrenched her eyes from the examination of D'Fwan's uninjured head, tracking her fianceé's gaze to a shiny golden statue of a hotdog protruding from an unzipped fly, the trophy from the previous day's competition. Below it, on an opened sheet of newspaper, rested a severed penis covered in gore.
Maura gasped, eliciting another piercing yowl from the distraught D'Fwan. She wrapped her arms around her agitated nurse and began to rock him, murmuring comforting words against his ear. "Hush, don't look. It will be all right. Jane will find who did this."
The detective reached for her phone which she always kept clipped to her belt, but it was not there. Nothing was there. She realized she was standing on the sunlit porch of the small cottage, naked as a newborn, and a crowd was beginning to gather drawn by D'Fwan's screams. She debated dashing inside and grabbing one of the neatly folded examination gowns from the clinic's supply closet, but decided that modesty could wait. She strode across the deck and squatted in front of the newspaper. She tilted her head to the left and then to the right. Finally, she reached out a hand and poked the amputated member.
"Jane, don't touch it. That's evidence." Maura cautioned. She was sitting on the porch with D'Fwan still in her arms, his head in the crook of her neck, eyes tightly closed.
Jane stood. "Yeah, evidence of a practical joke. It's a fucking hot dog, Maur. A hot dog covered in strawberry jelly."
She stood and faced the crowd, her police training taking over. "There's nothing to see here, folks. Just a stupid prank. Go back home to bed. You're on vacation. Sleep in."
"Well, what is it?" A man in pink poodle pajamas and fuzzy slippers started up the cedar-planked walkway toward the deck.
Jane realized that the newspaper, the faux penis, and the trophy were not visible from the walk, shaded as they were by the twisting branches of a shadblow thicket. Maybe it was best to leave it that way; this was a gossipy town, and there was no need to fuel the flames. She crossed the porch in three long strides and met the man before he had reached the cottage's front steps.
"The clinic isn't open yet. Come back in fifteen minutes."
The onlooker opened his mouth to protest, but changed his mind. He wasn't going to wrestle with a naked Amazon, especially one holding a semi-automatic pistol, to get a glimpse of whatever had frightened the cross-dressing nurse. He shrugged as if it didn't matter and turned back toward the walkway.
In the meantime, Maura had escorted her assistant into the cottage and settled him at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, heavily laced with bourbon. She returned with a plastic trash bag.
"Is everything okay, Jane?" She kissed a sinewy tan shoulder.
"Yeah, babe, it's fine."
"Detective Jane, you sure do work fast!" Barbara and Joan had joined the now dispersing crowd. They wore matching green smoking jackets over pin-striped pajamas. Barbara clutched a bored-looking Miss Pussy against his chest.
Jane winked at her fairy godfathers. "I sure do. We're engaged."
Maura flashed a smile and her ring at the older gentlemen.
"Amazing. You must have a magic vagina, Jane, though who would know what you have under all that fur. I'm no expert in the fashion of female genitalia, but I've heard that the ladies are waxing these days. Full bushes went out of vogue when Dickie Nixon was still in the White House."
Jane glanced down at the copious dark hair below her navel. Maura liked it and it suited her own laziness. She shrugged.
"Don't listen to her, Jane dear." Joan smiled. "She shaves her balls because the hair there has gone snow white. You have excellent taste in women and in rings. Now let me get a better look."
Maura held out her left hand. Both men oohed and aahed.
"Tiffany?"
"Yeah." Jane wrapped a possessive arm around her betrothed.
"Art deco, a classic piece. Very nice, Jane, very nice indeed. We owned a small jewelry store in Mount Vernon for years. But how did you get her to marry you in one day?"
"I was fucking with you. Maura's my girlfriend. We live together."
The pair laughed. "Mazel tov. We wish you as many years of happiness as we've had. We'll let you get back to whatever you were doing and we hope it was something naughty." They waved and sauntered off down the boardwalk.
Jane and Maura waved at their retreating forms before heading back toward the crime scene. Maura crouched and carefully wrapped the hot dog in the newspaper before depositing it in the trash bag. Jane watched her, amazed at how comfortable she felt chatting with her eccentric neighbors without a stitch of clothing on her back. This was a strange town, but apparently she fit in here.
"Jane, there's a note." Maura pulled a latex glove from her pocket and expertly snapped it onto her right hand. She lifted the paper gingerly and read, "To the victor belong the spoils." She frowned. "It's signed V.U.L.V.A. Vaginas United: Lesbian Voices Arise."
Jane laughed. "That's almost as good as P.U.K.E."
"Professionals for Underprivileged Kids of Excellence? That may have been an unfortunate acronym, but it was a wonderful charity."
"Yes it was, babe. I proudly wore my P.U.K.E. shirt because I was in love with you, even back then."
Maura smiled. "I've loved you too, for as long as I can remember. Do you want to dust the note for prints?"
"No, but don't throw it away just yet. Keep the hot dog, too."
"And the trophy?"
Jane sighed. "Bring it all inside. We'll put our heads together and come up with a plan."
Maura picked up both and followed her naked lover into the house. "It didn't register until just now, but I hadn't realized you brought your gun."
"I always have my gun. This is my off-duty piece."
"You didn't bring it on the cruise."
"I don't think I could have taken it through customs, and it's a good thing I didn't. I probably would have shot Ming."
Maura closed the the clinic at 1:00 p.m. sharp. She leaned against the shuttered door and rubbed her aching temples. She'd been busier than usual, nothing serious at all, but a steady stream of patients in groups of two and three who stopped in looking for an aspirin or a Band-Aid as well as the same three lesbians who visited every day for a pressure check and a free drink voucher. She surmised that the rumor of some excitement on her doorstep had drawn people in. Everyone was extra chatty, but no one directly asked what had happened. She greeted everyone with a tight smile and dispensed the requested remedies. D'Fwan had been of little help, sipping steadily of his whiskey coffee and adding more and more bourbon until he could barely stand and Maura had to call Jane to escort him home. She watched the unlikely pair slowly make their way down Doctor Walk, the disheveled nurse leaning heavily on the taller detective.
She mades some notes in a journal that Dr. Argentina kept in the small office behind the exam room and did a quick inventory of supplies. She would probably have to make a trip to the mainland to restock her acetaminophen and bandages. When she entered the kitchen, Jane was already back, pecking earnestly at the keyboard of Maura's open MacBook. She looked up as the doctor entered. "You hungry, babe?"
"Not really. Did you find anything?"
Jane waggled her hand. "I found out lots of sciency stuff about vulvas; some of it may actually come in handy." She raised a suggestive eyebrow. "But no solid info about a lesbian separatist group with that name."
"So maybe they don't exist. It's just someone's idea of a joke."
"No, they exist. There's a closed group on Facebook called Vaginas United. I requested admission, but I haven't heard back yet."
Maura leaned over her shoulder. "Their logo is a cherry between a pair of spread legs. An allusion to Cherry Grove?"
"That's what I thought. It will be great to get Kaye's take on this later. Any word on their arrival time?"
"They're still across the Sound, waiting to take the car ferry in Bridgeport."
Jane nodded. "I also did some research on that hotdog. It's not the same brand that Volga and Olga cooked up at the Ice Palace. In fact, I washed it off and took it to the Grove Grocery. It's actually not a hot dog at all. It matches exactly the tofu-furters in the vegan case."
"Aha. Good work, Jane."
"Wait, there's more. I asked the clerk if anyone had recently purchased those particular not-dogs and he checked the inventory, said he had sold one package yesterday, but he didn't know to who."
"To whom." Maura corrected automatically.
"That's my grammar gremlin." Jane closed the laptop and pulled her into her lap. "How was your day?"
Maura thought about it. "Tense." She finally replied.
"Yeah? Lots of angry people, huh?"
"No, not at all. I was tense. I…I guess I'm still shaky from this morning."
Jane kissed her ear. "What will make you feel better? I can rub your feet, or make you a plate of quinoa crackers with that stinky cheese you love, or we could walk on the beach."
"Sex." Maura responded. "I think a dose of neurohypophysial hormone will reduce my anxiety."
"Okay. I'm your go-to girl when it comes to neuro-happy-fizzy stuff and I'll be glad to show off my deeper understanding of your vulva. It's a win-win."
Jane followed her fianceé up the creaking wooden stairs and into the small, rustic bedroom they shared. She closed the door and locked it behind her. Maura had already removed her scrub top and bra. She stood bare from the waist up in front of the open window where an ocean breeze ruffled the gauzy curtains and tightened her nipples into stiff rose peaks.
No matter how many times she'd seen them, Maura's breasts were always a revelation to Jane; they swayed full and heavy above her lean ribcage like ripe fruit ready to be savored. She allowed herself a long, admiring look before crossing the room and taking the woman she loved into her arms. Maura plucked at her tank and Jane pulled it off, tossing it to the floor behind her.
Maura's fingers found their way to Jane's smaller breasts. She cupped them firmly, dark nipples hardening under her palms as she slipped her hot tongue between Jane's lips.
Maura led the kiss, molding herself against her girlfriend's lean frame and slipping a thigh between Jane's muscular legs. Jane allowed herself to be backed up against the bed then abruptly switched positions, pushing Maura onto the mattress and pulling down her scrub pants and lacy blue panties in one motion.
She dropped to the floor between Maura's legs and buried her face in her beloved's wet sex. "Vulva." She murmured.
"Mmm." Maura agreed.
Jane spread her further, darting her tongue in quick runs along the scalloped ridges of Maura's inner lips. "Labia minora…delicious."
Another moan of agreement.
She stroked firmly from Maura's opening to her clitoris then circled the hard bud slowly. "Clitoris."
"Just so…Clitoris…stay there." Maura groaned.
She did, building a steady rhythm of firm strokes, that had Maura moaning, her trembling thighs pressed against Jane's ears.
She knew Maura was close, so she deliberately pulled back, nipping and kissing the very edges of her outer lips. "Labia majora." She rasped.
"Yes." Maura hissed above her. "Very good, Jane. So good…but I need…"
"I know." She kissed down one silky white thigh and back up the other, drawing Maura's own wetness with her. "It's always better when you wait. You taught me that."
"Yes." Maura agreed again, but she didn't want to wait. Her fingers were tangled in Jane's tresses and she pulled, desperate to get that talented mouth back where she needed it.
Jane made her way slowly up to the apex of Maura's thighs, but skipped her sex entirely, blowing instead on the feathery light brown down above it. Maura groaned.
"Mons pubis." Jane whispered.
She slipped her arms under Maura's thighs and lifted, opening her. She ran her tongue in tight ovals through the slick of her labia before entering her deeply with her tongue. Maura pulled harder at her hair, her thighs tightening against Jane's shoulders.
She replaced her tongue with three fingers, moving them slowly in and even slower out, pausing at her opening before entering her fully. Maura's hips moved to meet each thrust, deepening it.
"Please, Jane."
Only then did she move her lips to Maura's erect clitoris, teasing it with quick flickers of her tongue and then suckling it back and forth between her lips.
Maura's breath hitched and she shuddered, a hot burst of liquid shot down Jane's hand a second before the deep clenching contractions began. Jane stayed with her, slowing her thrusts until the last spasm of pleasure had subsided and Maura lay serene on the mattress, her fingers still tangled in Jane's hair.
Jane took took her time kissing every part of her love's swollen sex, savoring her, but avoiding her overly sensitive clitoris. Slowly she made her way up Maura's curvy body, licking her belly, dipping her tongue into the sweet divot of her navel, kissing every rib in turn, finally arriving at the glorious swell of ivory breast. She raked her teeth over pink nipples, nipping and soothing, while Maura stroked her hair, humming her pleasure.
When they were face to face, she planted a gentle, almost shy kiss on the corner of Maura's mouth. "I love you."
Maura gazed into intense chocolate eyes, filled with love and desire. Shifting her weight, she pulled Jane roughly against her, kissing her cheeks, her chin and finally her mouth. The taste of herself on Jane's tongue made her desire spike again. "I want to feel you, Jane. I want to feel you against me."
Jane straddled the smaller woman, lifting her leg so they fit flush together. She began moving slowly, making small adjustments until she felt the engorged knot of Maura's clit against her own. The contact was exquisite. Jane felt it in her spine. All the muscles in her body sang. They rocked together, their sexes kissing. Maura lifted her calf to Jane's shoulder, drawing her even closer. Jane bent and kissed her under the black curtain of her hair, moving faster, harder, sliding herself fully against Maura's open labia.
"Tell me…tell me when I can.." She panted.
Maura nodded, her eyes were closed tight, a light sheen of sweat coated her body. Her eyes shot open, pure gold. "Now…now…I…"
Jane howled her release, shuddering. Maura's hips fell back to the mattress, her body limp and placid. Her slack leg rolled off of Jane's shoulder and she summoned just enough strength to hook it around Jane's waist and pull her close.
Jane rested her sweaty face in the peerless canyon between Maura's breasts, counting her slowing heartbeats, synchronizing their breaths. Maura moved an indolent hand, drawing languid circles on the damp skin between Jane's shoulder blades.
Jane moved first, kissing a trail of freckles up Maura's chest and across her collarbone, but lacking the strength to move beyond her neck where she snuggled into a warm nest of soft skin and fragrant strawberry-blonde tresses.
"Whatcha thinking about, baby?"
"Bonobos." Maura replied.
"Um, I think that must be advanced placement vulva because I didn't read anything about that today."
Maura chuckled, winding a damp ebony tress around her finger. "Your hair smells like me."
"I'll never wash it again."
"You'd better. We're having guests."
Jane leaned her weight on one elbow. "I must really have worn you out. You're missing an opportunity to lecture."
"Hmm?" Maura turned to face her fianceé. Her eyes had gone a soft grey-green in the late afternoon light, the sun having passed over the small cottage during their lovemaking.
"Bonobos, babe."
"Oh, yes. Bonobos, genus Pans pansicus, are close relatives of the chimpanzee. The females of the species are known for their intense and omnivorous sexuality."
"So they're really horny apes."
"Not apes, small chimps."
"And…?"
"Their clitorises are roughly three times the size of ours and visibly hang from between their legs. Female bonobos regularly engage in lesbian sex; tribadism, rubbing their enormous clitorises together to produce orgasm. They also tongue kiss and perform oral sex, which is a rarity among mammals."
Jane laughed until she snorted, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. "You are endlessly fascinating, Maura, which is one of the many reasons why I love you. No one has a mind quite like yours. I can't wait until you're officially my wife and we can spend the rest of our lives fucking like bonobos and laughing like hyenas."
Jane leaned in and kissed her again. "I have another wedding idea. Let's get married in Africa. I assume bonobos live in Africa?"
"Yes, mostly in the Congo basin."
"We'll have a dozen female bonobos as bridesmaids and as soon as we say 'I do,' they'll start rubbing their giant clits together in celebration."
Maura grinned. "And I love you because you accept my weirdness and just run with it. We're a good match, Jane."
"Faye and Kaye made the four o'clock boat." Maura held up her iphone. "Do you think we should borrow a red wagon to carry their luggage?"
"Not everyone packs like you. I think we can manage between the five of us."
"Four, Jane. I hardly think our friends will use their granddaughter as a pack mule."
Jane grunted her assent, continuing to scrub at a stain in her jean shorts with a damp paper towel. Finally satisfied that the pants were as clean as they were going to get, she tossed the wadded towel toward the garbage. "How many trips did you have to make with a little red wagon to get all of your stuff to the house?"
"One." Maura smiled.
"Impossible."
"I befriended a lesbian softball team in the parking lot of the ferry terminal. A lovely group of girls from Brooklyn. I didn't have to carry a thing but my purse."
"A lesbian softball team? Is there any other kind?"
They took a meandering route to the ferry dock, fingers laced together, enjoying the cool breeze blowing from the south bringing with it the salty scent of the ocean as it wafted toward the bay. Jo Friday trotted along beside them, stopping every few feet to sniff at a damp board or poke her nose into a brush of bearberry or beach heather.
"Be careful, Jo. Bearberry, also known as Arctostaphylos uva-ursi, has narcotic properties. The Unkechaug tribe native to southern Long Island would mix it with tobacco and smoke it for its stimulant effect. They called it kinnikinnick. Good girl, you listened!"
The little dog sat on her haunches, taking in everything Maura said, tilting her head in expectation of further instruction.
"See, Jane. Jo listens better than you do."
"Sure she does. All she heard was 'wah wah, Jo Friday, wah wah wah wah wah. Good girl, wah wah."
They continued on, Jo once again jumping off the boardwalk to follow a scent, catching up with them farther along the path. A small doe leapt onto the walkway ahead of them, stared for a moment then just as quickly bounded back into the underbrush and disappeared. After that, Jo Friday kept close to Jane's side.
"I was going to buy her a new leash at the grocery store, but all they had were pink ones with rhinestones. Jo isn't that kind of girl."
"I saw a rainbow lead in the gift shop near the ferry. We can pick it up now if they're open."
"That perfect. I saw a woman with a pair of pugs earlier. They had on t-shirts that said 'gayby.' Do you want a big gay rainbow leash, Jo? Are you our little gayby?"
"We should get TJ a 'gayby' shirt."
"Yeah, Tommy would love that. Maybe I'll buy him a rainbow leash instead. That kid has a death wish; he's always running into the street." Jane yawned. "I slept so good here, Maur. I think it's the sound of the waves. I'll have to download one of those nature noise apps."
"Well." Maura corrected, unable to keep the word in.
Jane only smiled and squeezed her hand. "I slept so well."
"I'm sorry, I can't help myself."
"I know. It's just one of the things that makes you who you are. I love that you don't give up on me, that you try to improve me."
That wasn't it at all, but Maura let it go. They felt, before they heard, the rumbling of a golf cart carrying lumber traveling fast down the narrow boardwalk. Planking rattled in a disjointed rhythm. They stepped off of the walk, luckily only a foot above the sand in this spot, to let the vehicle pass. The driver waved in thanks as he rounded the corner.
"I guess pedestrians don't have the right of way here. He was driving entirely too fast."
"Give him a ticket, Jane." Maura nudged her in the ribs. She was in a playful mood.
Jane lifted Maura back onto the walk, taking a moment to enjoy the unaccustomed perception of looking up at her shorter fianceé. Maura leaned down and planted a sloppy kiss on her nose.
"You seem less tense."
"I am. A double shot of oxytocin was exactly what I needed."
"I know that one. O is for orgasm. Oxytocin is the come chemical."
Maura giggled. "I love you."
"Did you just giggle?"
"Yes. I think I did."
"You're adorable. I would do anything for you."
"Anything?"
"Yes. Name it."
Maura paused, placing a finger on her chin in mock thought. They had just rounded the corner onto Bayview. The red and white awning of Cherry's was just visible ahead. "There are two things I would like…"
"Oh…kay."
"First. You need to tighten the bed frame. There was a distinct squeak when we were having intercourse earlier. We won't be alone in the house anymore and I plan on regular oxytocin release."
"Done!" Jane agreed. "Kaye and I will tackle it first thing. What else?"
"Buy some clothes, Jane. You can't walk around for the better part of two weeks in those same dirty jean shorts." She pointed to a pink and silver sign next to Cherry's: 'This Ol'Drag,' it read.
"Is that the drag queen boutique?"
"Yes. One nice outfit to wear to dinner at Top of the Bay and a few casual items."
"Casual items? Drag queens are the exact opposite of casual."
"Perhaps, but they're very creative. I'm sure they do custom work."
Jane looked into earnest hazel eyes and could refuse them nothing. "Fine."
"Tomorrow, Jane."
"Yes."
The ferry had arrived and soon an eclectic stream of gay and lesbian humanity began to glide past; a chubby woman wearing nothing but a pair of overalls and a beanie with a propeller was first off the ship, she waddle-jogged behind two enormous Rottweilers straining on their leads.
"They need 'gayby' t-shirts." Jane mused.
Maura bent and scooped up Jo Friday before she was trampled by the slobbering beasts.
Next came a bearded man in a mid-century nun's habit with full wimple. He roller-bladed down the pier licking an ice cream cone. "The lord be with you." He blessed them as he whizzed by.
A gaggle of drag queens were next, cackling at something one of them had said. The tallest stood a head above Jane in stiletto kitten heels and a leopard-print tutu.
"That's how you want me to dress, Maura?"
"Of course not. I trust you to choose something a bit more modest."
Their friends were last off of the boat. Kaye emerged first, an enormous mountaineering rucksack on her back, held in place with straps across her chest. She gingerly descended the three steps from the ship and shifted her burden before reaching back to guide her wife. Faye clutched a black medical bag in one hand and the small arm of a pigtailed red head in the other.
Jane and Maura waved, jogging up the pier to greet them, hugs and warm smiles all around.
"Kaye, let me take that pack. It looks light it weighs a ton and a half."
"I'm not too proud to say no, Jane." She unbuckled the chest strap and dropped the backpack onto the dock. "This one packs like she's going on safari for six months." She gestured to her wife.
"Sounds like Maura."
"I'm not kidding, Jane. She's got mosquito netting in here and some kind of water filtering system plus enough clothes and shoes for the whole town."
"Semper paratus." Faye intoned.
"You must be Annaliese." Maura squatted in front of the little girl. "I'm Maura, that's Jane and this is Jo Friday."
"I'm allergic to dogs."
"So am I, but Jo's breed is hypoallergenic. I don't sneeze or cough at all around her and she sleeps in bed with us."
Annaliese reached out a tentative hand and stroked Jo's soft ear.
"How was your trip so far?"
"Pretty sucky."
"I'm sorry about that. What can Jane and I do to make it less 'sucky' for you?"
The child shrugged. "I'm good, but Nana has to take a shit and Gran needs a fucking beer."
Jane roared. "I love her already."